Hollywood Taken Read online

  “Just go easy on him,” I said. “Robin mentioned he was a little traumatized by his date last weekend.”

  “I’ll betcha the guy wanted to play mud darts and Otto wasn’t ready for it.”

  Mo’s big forehead became pinched. “On the first date?”

  Natalie shrugged. “It happens,”

  I had no idea what Natalie meant, but gave them my thoughts. “I think Otto needs someone older, maybe even someone who’s an intellectual.”

  Mo looked at Natalie. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Baby sis and me are big on intellectuals.”

  “Not to mention homosexuals, heterosexuals, and polysexuals,” Natalie added.

  I chuckled. “You’re starting to sound like Dr. Doris?”

  “Don’t mention that robot. Last I heard, she and Tex we’re talkin’ ‘bout getting married.”

  “Didn’t know you can marry a robot,” Mo said.

  “Tex said something ‘bout gettin’ a animatronic marriage license. Not sure how it works.”

  My friends went on for a few minutes, discussing the merits of robotic marriage and sex when I looked over and saw Dave Turner wave to us. He was walking up the dirt road with his dog, toward his house.

  “I’m going to apologize for Mattie’s behavior, I said.

  I was headed for the door, when Natalie said, “We’ll wait up for you, unless you spend the night.”

  I ignored her and walked up the road, and calling out to Dave.

  “I wanted to apologize,” I said after he stopped and his dog came over to me. I reached down and brushed a hand through Cruz’s fur. “I heard what happened with Natalie’s aunt.”

  He laughed. “We’ll I gotta say, it made things interesting around here. Some of my guys thought a naked alien had landed in the fields.”

  “Don’t tell me, she was wearing a mask with tubes?”

  “Yeah, not sure what it was for.”

  “She has narcolepsy and has a terrible snoring problem. The device is supposed to help with that.”

  His smile was still there as he glanced up the road. “I was just headed back to the house for a glass of wine, something my dad bottled back in the nineties. Care to join me.”

  I smiled. “It sounds lovely.”

  We made our way up the road to his idyllic wood and stone house, overlooking the winery. We stopped on an outdoor terrace that had a magnificent view of the vine covered hills.

  “It’s such a beautiful setting,” I said, taking in the view.

  “This was mom and dad’s favorite place to end their day. Sally and me used to play on the grass right over there.” He pointed to a shady area under a oak tree.

  Cruz came over, pushing against my leg with his big head, looking for some attention. I rubbed him behind the ears and said, “Sally? Is she your sister?”

  “Was. She and my parents were killed in a car accident while I was in the army.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  His green eyes fixed on me. “It took me some time, but I’ve come to grips with what happened. Maybe being in the army...” He seemed to lose his train of thought and excused himself. He went into the house, returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses. After he poured us each a glass of Syrah, we clinked glasses.

  “Here’s to living each day with a grateful heart,” he said.

  “That’s a nice saying.” I said before tasting my wine. It was delicious and tangy

  “It was one of mom and dad’s. They had a lot of those.”

  Cruz was still at my side, looking for some more attention. He nuzzled my hand as I said, “You must miss them a lot.”

  “Yeah. What about your parents?”

  I chuckled. “How long do you have?”

  He smiled. “Long as it takes.”

  We finished our glass of wine and half a glass more by the time I’d told him the story of my adoptive dad, his relationship to the Rylands, the bio-dad I never knew, and Pearl possibly losing his life while trying to find out the truth about everything.

  When I’d finished, my gaze moved off to the sun setting on the vineyard. “As you can probably tell, it’s been a long and winding road for me.”

  I looked back at him as his brows lifted. “And, a lotta miles left to travel.”

  “Yes.” I studied him for a long moment. Dave Turner was a handsome man, but was haunted, probably both because of the loss of his family and the war. Maybe it was because I’d told him about my life that I made the decision to gently move the conversation in the direction of his past.

  “Wade told me you served in Iraq.”

  He nodded, but didn’t say anything. His green eyes were luminescent as he looked toward the fading rays of sunlight illuminating the winery.

  “I just want you to know, if you ever want to talk, I’m a pretty good listener.”

  He looked back at me and I saw his eyes change. What had been friendly and interested became intense, maybe even bordering on anger.

  Dave stood and said, “It’s been a nice evening. Take care.”

  FORTY

  I was still trying to come to terms with what had happened with Dave Turner when I went to bed that night. He had completely closed down, maybe even becoming a little upset when I suggested he talk about the war. Had I overstepped the bounds of our budding relationship? I cursed myself, thinking I should have been more sensitive to his feelings.

  I continued to struggle, trying to make sense of what happened as I lay there trying to read. I closed my book, deciding to call Joe and ask about the Harlans. After getting my phone from my purse, I thought better of it. While Joe did have a sensitive side, he wasn’t someone I wanted to talk to, especially after my evening with Dave. There was also the issue of him still wanting to take our relationship to another level.

  Instead of calling Joe, I got Olivia on the line. “Just calling to check on things in the big city.”

  “Just the usual murder and mayhem,” she said. “How about wine country?”

  I sighed. “If you’ve got a minute, I need to process something with you.”

  “Of course. What’s going on?”

  A told her about moving into the guest house on the winery with my friends and Natalie’s aunt. I then talked about Dave Turner, his apparent trauma during the war, and what had happened tonight.

  “I’m not sure if I spoke out of turn,” I said. “Maybe I pushed too quickly into territory he isn’t ready to talk about.”

  “If you did push, it sounds like it was more like a nudge. It also sounds like he’s got a lot of demons. I’d give it some time. If, and when, he’s ready, he’ll talk. Otherwise, it’s probably best not to even go there.”

  I took some time, thinking about what she’d said. “You should be a counselor. You always give good advice.”

  She laughed. “I don’t feel like much of a counselor these days. Byrd paired me with Jessica while you’re gone. We caught a decomp case and, let’s just say, it’s been a little strained working with her.

  “She’s not the easiest person to get along with.” I gave her our back story, telling her that I’d gone to high school with Jessica and that we’d had more than our share of conflict.

  “I think she’s still got some past issues, but she’s also jealous of you,” Olivia said.

  “Jealous, of what? That’s ridiculous.”

  “I think she sees you as someone who’s, not only attractive, but very successful at working cases. It’s been my experience that most people aren’t happy about other people’s successes, especially when they’ve got their own problems.”

  After telling her that Jessica was being petty, I asked if there was anything new with the Anna Levkin case.

  “I’ve still got in my drawer,” Olivia said. “But, unless something else breaks, it’s going nowhere. Byrd told me Van Ness isn’t interested in even discussing it.”

  I was angry and told her as much. I then had another thought. “I’m going to call HTU again. There has to be a Russian connection to what
happened that we’ve missed.”

  “I think it worth another shot. Just be sure it doesn’t get back to the captain or the lieutenant. They wouldn’t be happy.”

  “I understand, but it’s not my job to make them happy.”

  “Agreed. Have you talked to Joe about the Harlans?”

  I told her what Robin had found out. “Joe knows that Harlee’s apparently back in LA, so he said the taskforce will take things from there.”

  Olivia and I spent another twenty minutes talking, her telling me that she and Martin had talked, but had decided to go their separate ways. I ended the call by trying to sound encouraging about the single life, even as my thoughts went to Grant. I realized I hadn’t thought about him in a couple days and wondered if that meant I didn’t really have feelings for him.

  After turning out the light, just before sleep finally found me, Dave came to mind again. Maybe it was the fact that he was, in many ways, broken like me that made me realize I couldn’t just give up on him. I would find a way to talk about what haunted him, no matter what it took. Dave Turner was worth whatever it took to learn the truth about the demons that haunted him.

  FORTY-ONE

  The soft light filtered through the single small window above her when Faith Winslow’s eyes fluttered open. Her head throbbed, the images of her escape from her prison returning. She remembered the joy of finally pulling herself up and out of the underground room, running through the darkness, then the sharp blow to her head. She brought a hand up, feeling the place where she’d been struck. It throbbed and felt sticky with blood.

  Faith forced herself to focus, looking around the room and trying to regain her bearings. This place was different from her earlier prison, but it was a prison, just the same. There were ancient bricks and wood that supported the roof, and what looked like a heavy steel door across from her. She realized she was lying on a barren dirt floor. Then she saw the chain. It was attached to the brick wall and fastened to one of her ankles. Her spirits sank, as the reality of her captivity again sank in.

  Her thoughts went back to that moment when she’d escaped from her underground prison. The last image she’d seen was that of a woman, her face hovering above her as she was struck. In that instant she thought she had recognized her, but now she couldn’t be sure. She remembered reading somewhere that a concussion can cause memory loss. Her thoughts felt jumbled, the last several days were like a blur, lost to her. Why was this happening? None of it made any sense.

  It was several hours later when Faith heard what sounded like keys working a lock in the door. An instant later, the door was pushed open and a figure stood before her. It was a man. As he came closer, she studied his features. Had she seen him before? Her head throbbed. She wasn’t sure.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  Faith continued to study him. She tried to respond, but her words wouldn’t come.”

  The man moved closer and bent down to her. He reached out and touching her head where she’d been hit.

  “It might take some time, but you’ll eventually feel better,” he said.

  She realized he had a bag with him. There were some sandwiches and water that he placed on the ground in front of her.

  “Wh...why...?” she managed to say.

  The man studied her. “You’ll know, soon enough.”

  He reached into the bag again. This time Faith saw that he had a bundle of papers. He used a small flashlight to illuminate them.

  “This is a codicil,” he said. “Do you know what that means?”

  Faith shook her aching head, having no idea what he was talking about.

  The man went on. “When your father died two years ago, he left you a lot of money that was put into a trust for your son. This codicil allows your husband, Jack, to make sure Owen gets the money in the trust should anything happen to you.”

  “Ow...wen...” Faith said, images of her beautiful son suddenly rushing back to her. Her thoughts coalesced. Owen had problems at school...he needed special help...Jack had refused to believe that.

  The man held a pen out. “You need to sign this, then you get the food and water I brought.

  Faith’s thoughts were still jumbled, but she realized what was happening. She was going to die and Jack would have the money held in trust for Owen.

  “No...no...” Faith said, shaking her head. “I w...won’t ss...sign.”

  The man’s voice turned angry as it pitched higher. “Sign, or you will regret it.”

  Faith continued to refuse, even as the man’s fists rained down on her. As the light of the world once again began to dim, pushing her into the dark regions of time and space, Faith was sure of only one thing. Her son had to be protected, even if it was the last thing she would ever do.

  FORTY-TWO

  Despite my upsetting evening with Dave Turner, I slept well and got to the station early the next morning at the same time Wade arrived. We then spent the first hour of our day, briefing Lieutenant Sutton on our case in his office.

  After discussing the likelihood that both Faith and her husband had been unfaithful, Wade told the lieutenant, “Everything we’ve learned points to lots of problems in the marriage, something that Jack denied in our original interview. We’re going to talk to him again today.”

  “There’s also their son’s school teacher...” I checked my notes. “I called Summit School this morning before coming into the station. Her name is Meg Randolph.” I decided to leave what my friends had told me out of the discussion, only saying, “There are some rumors that Jack may have been involved with her.” I looked at Wade. “I thought we could go by and talk to her before seeing Jack.”

  “Works for me.”

  After we finished debriefing the lieutenant, he updated us on the press coverage our case was getting. “The chief wants us to give Jordan Knight an interview for his TV show.”

  Wade and I simultaneously groaned.

  Sutton held up a hand. “I don’t like it any better than you, but she thinks it will improve the department’s image and show that we’re still actively working the case. When I get something set up, I’ll let you know.”

  Wade and I vented, telling the lieutenant that Knight had a reputation for sensationalizing stories, but our protests went nowhere. After giving up the battle, we left the station and headed for Summit Elementary School.

  As Wade drove, he mentioned his previous encounter with the reporter. “He’s one of those guys who puts his own spin on things. I’m not sure our meeting is going to go well.”

  “He also knows about my family history and my relationship with Harlee Ryland, so he’ll probably try to drag that into the conversation.”

  “I say we just stick with the facts and hope for the best.”

  I smiled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re turning into an optimist.”

  He looked at me, shaking his head. “Not going to happen. My wife calls me Wade the Worrier. She says I can always find a dark cloud in a silver lining.”

  The weather had grown colder and I saw there were clouds on the horizon. “Speaking of that, have you heard a weather report?”

  “Rain tonight, clear tomorrow.”

  “Then I’d better look for that silver lining quick.”

  We had to wait an hour until Meg Randolph found a teacher to cover her yard duty assignment. We then met with her in a faculty office in the school’s administration building. Randolph was around thirty and pretty, with dark hair and thick lashes that I thought were real. Her violet eyes fixed on us as she asked us why we were there.

  “We’re doing some follow-up on Faith Winslow’s disappearance,” Wade said. “We understand her son Owen is a student in your class.”

  “Yes, he’s in my reading class and I see him when I have yard duty at recess.”

  “Faith’s husband mentioned that you had a meeting scheduled with him and his wife on the day Faith went missing,” I said.

  She nodded, taking a breath. “Yes, Faith was havi
ng some concerns with Owen’s progress in his classes. She wanted me to talk to her husband about the situation.”

  “Was he having problems with his school work?” Wade asked.

  “Yes.” Randolph folded her arms and released a breath. “Actually, it was more than that. I think Owen has some of the classic symptoms of Asperger’s Syndrome. I shared my thoughts with Faith in that regard and she broke down crying. I think it confirmed what she’d already suspected.”

  “And, do you know how her husband felt about that?”

  “Faith said he didn’t believe Owen had a problem. I met with her husband briefly after we talked and she was right. Jack didn’t believe Owen had special needs.” Her gaze moved to the window. “Owen’s on the school yard.” She stood. “Let me point him out to you.”

  We all walked over to the window, seeing the children were at recess. There were groups of children gathered in the yard, most of them laughing, playing games, or running. Randolph pointed to a boy who stood alone near some playground equipment.

  “That’s Owen,” she said. “He spends almost every recess and his lunch hour alone in that exact location, not interacting with the other children.”

  It was heartbreaking to see the little boy, standing in the shadows of the playground, making no effort to interact with the other kids.

  “How does he do in class?” I asked.

  “He’s very withdrawn. When I call on him, sometimes he doesn’t respond and the other kids laugh. It’s very disheartening.”

  After we took seats back at the table Randolph went on. “Faith and I were hoping that together we could get the issues across to her husband at our meeting, but, as you know, it never happened.”

  “I’m assuming you never talked to her husband after Faith went missing?” I said.

  “Actually, we did end up meeting at a restaurant near the school a couple days later, but...” She shook her head. “Let’s just say that he had no interesting in discussing his son’s problems.”