#3 Hollywood Crazy: A Holllywood Alphabet Series Thriller Read online

  I then went on to explain what Sam Weber had said about my father’s belief that someone in the department was dirty behind their undercover investigation of Discrete in the 1980s. I also explained that my father believed Jimmy Marcello was involved in his brother’s death. I ended by telling him that I believed the mob boss may also have been involved in the murder of my father.

  “There’s one more thing,” I said after laying it all out. “A couple of nights ago, right after I talked to Sam Weber, there was an intruder in my house. He took a shot at me, but missed and got away. I didn’t see his face.”

  “Did you report this?”

  “No. I don’t trust anyone in the department except for Pearl Kramer, my partner, Charlie Winkler, who’s on medical leave, and you. Mags Warner didn’t come right out and say it, but she gave me the impression that someone in the department’s been providing protection to Discrete for years.”

  I took a breath, knowing what I said next would be difficult for Reed to hear. “This is speculation on my part, but I saw a car leaving the area after I was shot at. It was one of those classic Mustangs.” I kneaded the muscles in the back of my neck. “Captain Andrews is a classic car collector.”

  The chief’s brows lifted. “Andrews has been with the department for almost thirty years. He’s one of our most trusted officers.”

  “I know. I don’t want to believe he’s involved either, but...”

  The chief looked away, removed his cap and ran a hand through his thick graying hair. He put the cap back on and looked at me. “What I’m going to tell you is just between us, for now. In forty-eight hours, at my request, the department is going to ask for federal oversight. I don’t know how far Sanders’s use of prostitutes for political favors went or if anyone with the department was involved in providing protection for the escort service, but I’m determined to find out and let the chips fall where they may.”

  “There’s a lot more to the wedding murders than we know,” I said. “The investigation was killed at a high level, possibly by Captain Andrews.”

  “I’m going to reopen the investigation as soon as the feds are in place.” Reed’s sharp brown eyes fixed on me. “As you know, there’s already a lot of political fallout from everything that’s been happening. There’s some talk about the street demonstrations turning violent, especially with Reverend Vollmer inciting people and demanding mass resignations at city hall.”

  “I saw him on the news the other night. He was really stirring things up.”

  “Word has it that he’s going to run for office after the resignations.” Reed’s eyes lifted and he scanned the park for a moment before turning back to me. “I don’t know if I’ll still have my job when all is said and done, but, regardless of that, I’m determined to get to the truth.”

  I shook my head, thinking how everything was unraveling at once. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

  The chief of police leaned closer to me. “There is something you can do for me, Detective.”

  I met his eyes and said, “Just tell me what you need.”

  “I want your resignation on my desk by the end of the day.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  I left Bernie with Charlie and spent most of the afternoon after meeting with Chief Reed sorting through my desk and boxing up my personal belongings. Jessica watched me with great curiosity before finally asking what I was doing.

  “I’ve met a very wealthy man who’s taking me away from the madness of this job,” I said.

  “What? You mean you’re quitting?”

  “Why should I work here when I can live with a multi-millionaire who will attend to my every whim?” I leaned in closer to her. “And he’s great in bed.”

  Jessica was momentarily speechless. She finally asked, “Who is this guy and where did you meet him?” Her jealous scowl was more prominent than usual.

  “Actually, we’ve known one another for a long time. We just recently got back together.” I smiled. “I have you to thank for that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I leaned even closer to her and my smile grew wider. “Brian Hopper and I are eloping.”

  After watching Jessica’s jaw drop until there was enough room for a large rodent to enter, I walked into Lieutenant Edna’s office. I pushed a letter across the desk to him.

  “I’m resigning effective the end of the day,” I said. “Please be sure this goes up the chain to administration.”

  Now it was Edna’s turn for the jaw-drop. “What the fuck is this?”

  “My resignation.” I turned and started to walk away, but swiveled back to him for a moment. “Oh, I need to gather Bernie’s belongings and say goodbye. I’ll bring him by in the next day or two for reassignment.”

  I closed his door as a string of obscenities spewed forth.

  I found Pearl in his office and asked for help carrying my belongings to the car. Before we left the office, Jessica said, “You’re not eloping with Brian. You’re just making things up.”

  I smiled. “Brian wanted me to say hello to you for him before I left. In fact, his exact words were, ‘Be sure and say hi to the screamer.’”

  Out in the parking lot, Pearl turned to me after stowing the last of my belongings in Olive’s trunk. “What’s going on, Kate?”

  I gave him my best Meryl Streep imitation. “I’m quitting. Jessica, Henrietta, the wedding and homeless murders, they’ve all taken a toll. I just can’t handle the job anymore. I’m sorry.”

  He held on my eyes for a long moment before I finally broke. I smiled.

  “Okay,” Pearl said. “I’m not going to ask anything more right now. You need something from me, be sure to call.”

  Twenty minutes later, I pulled up in front of Charlie’s house. For the first time in several days, he was dressed and his hair was combed. He was waiting at the curb with Bernie like a school boy looking for a bus.

  “How does it feel to be unemployed?” he asked after he got into the car and Bernie had settled into the backseat.

  “Wonderful. How does it feel to be back on the job?”

  “It would be better if I wasn’t working undercover. Are you sure I can’t tell anyone about this, even Wilma?”

  “Especially not Wilma. Chief Reed made it very clear that we could work undercover and report directly to him only if we didn’t tell a single person.”

  I knew what my partner was really talking about. Sex. Wilma had said, no sex until the doctor released him and he returned to work. And Wilma had no way of knowing that lover boy was working undercover.

  “This is hard, Kate. I’m still not sure why Reed wanted you to resign.”

  “In the words of the chief, ‘I want you to sit out the rest of the game until things settle down.’ My resignation’s temporary. He wanted me out of the way, partly for my own protection, but he also agreed to let me do some undercover surveillance.”

  “I sure hope the chief doesn’t lose his job. There’s a lot of talk on the news about the department needing fresh blood.”

  “We just have to hope for the best.”

  I’d had a few second-thoughts since I quit the department, worrying about the possibility that Reed might lose his job. If he was forced out in the political firestorm that was raging at city hall, I had no guarantees that I’d get my job back. It was a gamble, but one I’d decided was better than the alternative of being stalked by a killer who was probably working for Jimmy Marcello.

  “So who’s our target tonight?” Charlie asked, unwrapping a sandwich and munching down.

  “I made a deal with Chief Reed. I told him that I’d resign if he’d let me do a couple of night’s surveillance on a guy who loves classic cars.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  I stopped at Mom’s house on the way to our undercover assignment and borrowed her car, deciding that Olive was too easy to recognize from being parked in the police lot every day. With Captain Andrews also being a classic car enthusiast, I
couldn’t take any chances that he’d notice a twenty-plus year-old ride, even though it was far from being a classic.

  My mother seemed distant and subdued as she got her keys and agreed to take Bernie for the night. I imagined that she was still upset over our earlier conversation about my father, but I still didn’t understand why she’d been so distraught.

  As Charlie and I drove to West Hollywood where Andrews lived, the conversation drifted to my father. I asked him how well he’d known my dad.

  Between bites of his ham sandwich Charlie said, “Saw him a few times at the Short Stop on Sunset. Bunch of us used to hang out at the bar during the Dodger games. I think maybe I also saw him at a couple of retirement parties. Didn’t really know him well.”

  “My mom said something to my brother about him not being a very good family man. Do you think he might have had a drinking problem?”

  “What cop doesn’t?” His shoulders went up. “I dunno. All I remember is that...”

  “What?”

  Charlie finished the last bit of his sandwich, chewed, and finally said, “Your father was a good-looking guy, Kate. I think maybe the ladies liked him.”

  “Do you think he could have cheated on my mother?”

  As I asked the question, I realized that maybe I’d made a hero out of a father who wasn’t. Maybe that’s why my mother never wanted to talk about him. I also thought about the woman I’d seen with him at the park during my hypnosis session. Had my father been involved with her or was she just a figment of my imagination working overtime?

  Charlie shrugged again. “You’re asking me something I can’t answer.” He looked over at me. “You need to let it go.”

  “I’ll let it go the day I find out who murdered him.”

  We found Andrews’s house off Fountain Avenue. The neighborhood was a mix of older residential dwellings and commercial shops.

  The captain lived in a modest bungalow with a red tiled roof and a small front porch. As far as I knew, Andrews was divorced and lived alone, but that’s all I knew about him.

  We drove past the house and saw that a couple of interior lights were on. The Camaro that the captain had driven to the station a couple of days earlier was in the driveway. I didn’t see the Mustang, but it could have been in the garage. We parked far enough up the street so that Andrews wouldn’t be able to see us.

  It was after midnight and Charlie was snoring like a bear when I saw a porch light come on, then Andrews moving to his car in a hurry.

  “Charlie, he’s on the move.”

  I started the car and told him to get down as Andrews passed by. When the captain turned onto Fountain Avenue I pulled away from the curb and followed him.

  “Maybe he’s going out on a call,” Charlie suggested. “The department’s probably short-handed with the demonstrations and crowd control.”

  We watched until Andrews came to Wilcox Street.

  “I think he’s headed for the station,” I said, but then we saw him continue on until he was on the freeway.

  “Must be a call,” Charlie said. “But it’s out of our jurisdiction. He’s speeding up.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we followed Captain Andrews as he passed the 110 Freeway and then took the Broadway exit. When we got off the freeway, I looked up the block and saw the orange glow. I knew then where the police captain was headed.

  “City hall,” I said to Charlie. “It’s on fire.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  It was after four in the morning by the time I finally got home. Charlie and I had watched helplessly from a distance as cops and firefighters descended on city hall, trying to restore order and put out the fire caused by a protest demonstration that had turned into a riot.

  By the time we left downtown Los Angeles, the fire was under control but the damage had been done. City hall was in ruins and there was talk about more rioting when night again fell.

  My roommates were all in bed when I got home. I slept until ten before dragging myself out of bed and showering. I threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and found my friends milling about the kitchen. I poured myself a cup of coffee as Natalie came over.

  “Did you see the news?” Natalie asked.

  I glanced into the family room and saw that Tex and Prissy were in front of the television as Nana denture clicked her way down the stairs on her mechanical stallion.

  “I heard there was a fire,” I said, deciding to let them think I’d slept through everything.

  “City hall burned to the ground last night thanks to that preacher,” Nana said, coming over to us.

  “You mean Reverend Vollmer?” I asked.

  Mo joined us and said, “He’s the same guy that’s always preaching ‘bout hell and damnation. He told the crowd if they didn’t take back their city, it was time to burn it down. Seems like he got his way.”

  I went over to the television and watched with the others as the reporter recapped the night’s activities and said the chief of police was going to hold a news conference that afternoon. We then saw a videotape of Reverend Vollmer telling the crowd it was time to stand up to the police and the politicians. The preacher looked to be in his early forties with a shock of gray hair that was spiked up on his head. When he spoke, he had a way of making everything sound dramatic, like Armageddon was coming.

  “Heard the reverend is called the popsicle man by some of his congregation,” Mo said.

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “Seems our man of the cloth likes little boys. Buy’s ‘em popsicles every Sunday and, every now and then, gets his own lollipop licked.”

  “Really? I think I’m going to have to make a couple of calls about Reverend Popsicle.”

  “Your boss is in the hot seat,” Natalie said, motioning to the reporter who said the chief of police’s job was on the line. “Betcha he resigns.”

  We watched for a moment as the news anchors took turns talking about Chief Reed’s upcoming news conference and speculating that he would resign. They made it sound like it was only a matter of time until the chief fell victim to the inquisition that was purging the political power structure at city hall.

  “I hope he doesn’t quit,” I said, then realized that my roommates didn’t know about my resignation. “And, just so you know, he’s no longer my boss. I quit my job yesterday.”

  “What?” Mo was suddenly in my face. “You’re the only one with a lick a sense over there, Kate. You can’t just up and quit the department. It’s not right.”

  “Yeah,” Natalie said. “Besides, if you quit you might have to get a real job like Tex’s.”

  Tex looked over at me. “There is an imminent opening at Chica Caliente. We’re desperately in need of a de-boner.”

  The thought of working with Tex at the chicken restaurant depressed the hell out of me. I prayed that the chief wouldn’t resign and said, “I don’t think I’d be very good at deboning.”

  “Yeah, Kate’s better at boning,” Natalie said, laughing. “Especially if there’s a rabbit involved.”

  “Speaking of boning,” Nana said. “I took that Mr. Peepers that Tex made me for a ride last night. I think I’m going to need some safe words.”

  I was speechless, looking from Natalie to Mo. They both shrugged.

  “Just in case I get stuck in the saddle,” Nana explained. “If you hear me yell, ‘code red,’ it means I need someone to come quick.”

  I walked away, doing my best to concentrate on the scenes of city hall burning down so that I wouldn’t have to think about Nana calling a code red.

  Natalie came over after a while and said, “Mo and me are gonna talk to Mags Warner tonight.”

  “What for?”

  “Mo heard that Discrete closed down. The website is no longer up and their offices are closed.”

  I’d heard a rumor about them closing yesterday, but had been too busy to confirm it.

  Natalie continued, “Mo thinks Mags might know more than she’s told us ‘bout China and Michael. We’re gonna
pump her for the 411, see what she gives up. After our last performance on Hollywood Daybreak we talked to Holly Sawyer. She told us if we come up with some new information to call her. She said we might even get to be rovin’ reporters for the show.”

  Natalie and Mo acting as reporters was all I needed. Neither of my friends knew that I’d already talked to Mags and learned that she’d worked for Discrete, scheduling appointments for dirt bags like Ray Halstead. Given the fact that the chief was planning to reopen the murder investigation, I couldn’t tell them what I knew.

  “I doubt that Mags has anything worthwhile to tell you,” I lied.

  I picked up Bernie from my mother at seven that night and we drove to Charlie’s house. We decided to take his car for our evening surveillance. I told him what Mo had said about Reverend Vollmer’s interest in young boys.

  “I’ll give Gene Conner in sex crimes a call,” Charlie said. “We go back a few years. Maybe we can get the reverend off the street before the city completely burns down.”

  “I thought the chief did a good job with the news conference this afternoon,” I said. “You know I’m not crazy about the feds, but I think bringing them in is the only option at this point. I’m also glad he didn’t resign.”

  Charlie agreed. “Maybe the feds coming in and the curfew will calm people down. So far, I haven’t heard about any riots tonight.”

  We took our spot up the street from the captain’s house. The neighborhood was quiet and I was beginning to think we were wasting another night.

  It was after eleven and Charlie was on his third bag of Fritos when we saw lights come on in Andrews’s house. He pulled out of the driveway in his Camaro a few minutes later.

  “Maybe our captain has a hot date tonight,” Charlie said, as he started the car. “Maybe he’ll get lucky.”