Hollywood Intrigue: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Page 3

  Brie regarded me for a moment. “You doing okay?”

  My friend knew that I’d had a difficult few months. I’d spent some of that time in counselling over the losses I’d suffered in my personal life. Brie was one of the few people in the world, other than Natalie and Mo, with whom I could share my innermost thoughts and feelings. I treasured my friendship with her and was glad that she was the on-duty coroner at our crime scene.

  “I’m alright,” I said, wrapping my hands around myself and feeling the chill of the cave. I cut my eyes to the girl. “I’ll be a lot better when we get her out of here and find the son of a bitch who did this.”

  “I’ll take a look, then we’ll see about…” Brie paused and looked over at our victim. “We’ll find out what’s been making the noise you heard.”

  While Brie worked over the body, I stepped away, feeling slightly dizzy again. The cave had become a strobe-like vision of images, a contrast of darkness and light; sights and sounds that were overpowering.

  I took a few minutes and left the cave to check on Bernie. The disparity between the blackness of the cavern and the now partly cloudy noontime canyon where an army of technicians were staged, caused me to shield my eyes for a moment until they adjusted to the brightness of the outside world.

  I found my big dog with the same uniformed cop I’d left him with earlier. As I nuzzled Bernie and thanked the officer for taking good care of him, I heard the sound of helicopters in the air.

  “The media’s been on this for most of the morning,” the cop said. “I’m told they’re doing newsbreaks on all the local stations.”

  I glanced skyward for a moment and shook my head, thinking it wasn’t bad enough that the murder scene had become a stampede of crime scene staff, it was now being broadcast to millions of people. My thoughts went to all the parents who had missing children. I wondered what terrors were going through their minds as they watched the proceedings and questioned whether or not our victim was their own child.

  I gave Bernie’s lead back to the cop and was about to head back into the cave when I heard a voice coming up the trail.

  “Kate, just wanted to check on things.”

  I turned and saw that it was Ozzie Powell. Ozzie, or Oz as he was known, had recently taken over the supervision of Section One from our interim lieutenant, Henry Edna. The Great and Powerful, as some cops had christened him, was a legend in the department. The elderly cop had forty years on the job and had worked every possible assignment. Oz was one of the few bright spots in a job that seemed increasingly difficult, given the nature of Section One cases.

  “Just taking a little break,” I said, coming over to the lieutenant. My new boss was pushing sixty. His hair and eyebrows were the color of fresh snow. While my own eyes were green, the lieutenant’s eyes were the color of water that I’d once seen on a Caribbean vacation, something that seemed to shift between green and blue, depending on his surroundings. I’d heard that my new lieutenant had planned to retire last year, but had thought better of it when his wife of almost forty years had suddenly and unexpectedly passed away.

  “What have we got?” Oz asked. His lips turned up in a way that made me think a father might smile at his daughter. I couldn’t know for sure because I had no memories of my own father, who had been murdered when I was a child.

  I took a couple of minutes and ran down what I knew, before adding, “Our victim…she’s…we think...” I hugged my sides. “There might be something alive…inside…” I was at a loss as to how to explain things further.

  “Maybe it’s insects,” Oz said, regarding me for a long moment.

  My new lieutenant knew all about my past, how I’d almost quit the department recently due to stress. At the time, I’d thought my unhappiness was due to the job, but I’d since come to realize that my stress was more about the losses I’d suffered in my personal life.

  Oz came closer and touched my arm. “Why don’t we take a look together, Kate?”

  I nodded and turned back toward back the cave. “Thanks.” I hesitated and then added, “I guess I’m not used to a lieutenant…” I reached down and nuzzled Bernie who was still with the big cop that was standing guard. I then looked back at Oz and said, “I’m just a little surprised that you’re here.”

  The lieutenant, who had a habit of wearing bow ties and plaid jackets, tugged at his collar and said, “The fresh air does me good now and again.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he added, “Besides, at my age, you never know when your next breath will be your last.”

  I found a flashlight for him and in a moment we made our way inside the cave. I went over the facts again as we knew them while we walked. When we got to our victim, I saw that Brie was standing over her with Ted and Selfie at her side.

  I introduced Brie to Oz and said to her, “Any more thought’s on…on what’s inside?”

  Brie had a clear plastic bag, about the size of one that’s used to freeze leftovers, and some surgical instruments on a tray set up beside the victim. “We’re about to find out. If you and Ted will assist, I want to cover her head as I open the mouth and preserve whatever…” She gathered a breath. “…any evidence that we find.”

  Ted and I took places on opposite sides of the victim, me standing next to Brie, as Oz and Selfie looked on. Most of the other SID people hung back, maybe still traumatized by my exchange with one of their colleagues.

  Brie looked at us and held up a scalpel. “You both ready?”

  We moved the plastic covering up until it was sealed against our victim’s face. Brie cut a small opening in the plastic bag. It then took her a moment to manually manipulate the victim’s jaw, opening her mouth. We waited for almost a full minute, seeing nothing. A moment later, everything changed.

  “What in the hell?” Ted said.

  I winced and instinctively started to move my hands away but consciously forced myself to keep the plastic bag sealed around the victim’s face. The creature, now buzzing louder as it crawled up from the girl’s mouth, was large, maybe half the size of my fist.

  “What have we got?” the lieutenant asked, peering over my shoulder.

  Brie pulled the plastic bag up, sealing it off at both ends and then held the buzzing creature up for everyone’s inspection.

  “I’ve never seen one this big before,” Brie Henner said, the skin on her forehead drawing together. “But I think it’s a giant wasp.”

  I was still in a state of shock at the horror of what we were witnessing when we realized something else. The giant wasp-like creature that Brie had extracted from our victim wasn’t alone.

  “There’s something attached to it,” Ted said, shining his light up to the bag that Brie was holding as the buzzing continued.

  I moved closer, giving voice to what was now apparent. “It’s a spider.”

  FIVE

  We stood in silence for a moment, examining the wasp and what we’d determined was a white spider. I had the thought that the spider might be food for the wasp as Brie placed what she’d found inside an evidence container and said, “We’re going to need to consult with a forensic entomologist on this.”

  I tried to give voice to what was likely on everyone’s mind. “How…how do you… suppose.” I found Brie’s eyes. “Do you think the insects might have somehow gotten into our victim postmortem?” We both knew that in death it wasn’t uncommon for a victim’s mouth to be open, but that wasn’t the way we’d found the girl.

  Brie shook her head. “It had to be a deliberate act…” She looked at the girl. “…by whatever monster did this.”

  I glanced over at Ted and Oz, thinking about the symbolism of the setting that had struck me earlier, the contrast of darkness and light. I wasn’t sure how the horrifying discovery fit with what I’d postulated.

  “Can you go over your preliminary findings?” Oz asked Brie. I had the impression it was the lieutenant’s way of trying to move past the discovery, put us on task again.

  We stepped away from the harsh lig
hts trained on the body for a moment as Brie summarized what she knew. “There’s no signs of rigor. So, my best guess is that the TOD was sometime in the past thirty-six to forty-eight hours. I can probably pin it down further during the autopsy. There’s some conjunctival petechial hemorrhaging that’s apparent in the mucosal, or underside lining of the eyelids. That finding is consistent with asphyxiation, but, if manual manipulation was used, our suspect was very careful not to damage the soft tissues around the neck. There’s very little in the way of bruising.”

  What she’d said fit with what Bob Woodley had told me earlier. It also probably meant that our suspect wanted his victim to appear untouched.

  “Any signs of sexual assault?” I asked.

  Brie glanced at the body and then found my eyes again. “There’s some tearing of the vaginal wall indicating recent penetration. We’ve taken swabs but, superficially, I don’t see anything in the way of pubic hair or semen. I’ll know more when she’s examined further.”

  “What about the sweet smell around the body?” Ted asked.

  “She was washed, probably with a common commercial grade insecticide. We’ve done swabs of everything and will do chemical analysis later. The area around her was also sprayed, so it appears that our suspect didn’t want anything infesting his crime scene except…” Brie’s eyes fell to the evidence bag where we heard the soft buzzing sound still being made by the wasp. “…except for what we just found.”

  Brie went on for a couple of minutes, telling us there wasn’t much in the way of other evidence that was conclusive. After the lieutenant left, Ted and I spent the rest of the day at the scene, covering every inch of the cave but not coming up with anything that seemed useful.

  As we made our way out of the canyon the rain had ended, leaving the sky a beautiful shade of turquoise and pink. Evening was settling in around us as Bernie lapped up air from the partially opened rear window. We drove in silence, exhausted by the day’s events.

  “Let’s move ahead on the girl first thing in the morning,” Ted said when we pulled into the Hollywood Station parking lot. His bloodshot eyes found me. “Maybe we can get an ID on her.”

  After telling Ted I’d see him in the morning, I glanced at my phone as Bernie and I walked to my car. I saw there was a text from Lexi, reminding me of her basketball game. I was running on empty, not having slept for over twenty-four hours, and wanting nothing more than to go home and collapse into bed, but I’d made her a promise.

  Fifteen minutes later, Bernie and I were in the bleachers of the Silver Lake Community Center, about five miles from Hollywood Station. We watched as Lexi and her teammates scrimmaged with a team from Monrovia. My youthful friend’s basketball skills left a lot to be desired, but Lexi tried hard, sprinting down the court during each possession.

  Her team lost by twelve points and Lexi seemed a little down after the game as we settled in for dinner at a small diner a couple of blocks over from the community center.

  “I’m not very good,” Lexi said. She brushed dark hair from her eyes and took a sip of her lemonade. She then added, “Maybe I should quit the team.”

  Bernie was beside my chair, watching me as I munched on some fries. I’d ordered a cup of coffee earlier. It was the only thing that had kept me from collapsing into exhaustion.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It was your first game. You’ve got to give it some time.”

  Lexi’s chocolate eyes found me. “Did you play any sports when you were in school?”

  I remembered how I’d been lucky to graduate after cutting classes to go to the beach when I was a teenager. “Actually, I surfed a lot. But it wasn’t a school sport back then.”

  Her eyes brightened, a smile finding her full lips. “Do you think we could go surfing together sometime? I’ve always wanted to give it a try.”

  I studied my young friend for a moment. From what I knew about Lexi’s circumstances, her mother had become pregnant when she was a teenager. Lexi’s mom had several relationships after that, but there had never been a father-figure in her daughter’s life. Her mother’s last relationship had gone on for a couple of years before her boyfriend shot and killed her in bed while Lexi was asleep in the another room. Her mother’s killer had then held Lexi hostage for several hours before finally releasing her and surrendering to the police.

  Lexi’s grandparents had, at first, refused to take custody of her. She’d spent several weeks living on the streets before ending up in a shelter where I’d met her while working on a charity. We’d made several visits to her grandparents, before they finally, somewhat reluctantly agreed to take her in. While I’d had my own difficult childhood, it was, in many ways, far less traumatic than what my youthful friend had endured in her fifteen years on the planet.

  I thought about Lexi wanting to go surfing. I hadn’t been on a surfboard in at least ten years. “I guess we could give it a try, but no promises. I’m a little out of practice.”

  Her voice pitched higher, along with her spirits. “Really?”

  I nodded and gave in to Bernie, slipping him a French fry. “Really.”

  After dinner, we walked to my car as Lexi asked me about my day. I’d managed to push away the terrible images of the dead girl for the past couple of hours, but they now came cascading back to me.

  “It was…just another day at the office,” I said, trying my best to sound upbeat.

  “It must be interesting being a police officer,” Lexi said. She turned to me. “Maybe I could come by and see where you work one of these days.”

  “We’ll see.”

  I saw there was a street vendor at the corner closing up for the night. As we went over to him, we found some withered stalks of flowers in some five gallon buckets.

  Lexi picked up some stalks of daisies and turned to me. “These look like they could use a home.”

  I saw that they were a little wilted. “How much?” I asked, turning to the vendor.

  The elderly Hispanic man’s weathered eyes found me, then Lexi. He smiled. “We’ve got a special tonight. They’re free.”

  Lexi was overjoyed, holding the stalks against her breast. I tipped the vendor, at the same time brushing a tear from my eye. Maybe it was his kind gesture that had triggered my emotions, or the day’s events, but I felt overjoyed by what he’d done.

  As Bernie and I dropped Lexi at her grandparents’ house, a small bungalow in the Silver Lake District, she handed me one of the flowers.

  “Daisies,” Lexi said.

  I took the flower and said, “Marigolds.” I then reached over and hugged her.

  ***

  Bernie and I got home a little before ten. It had only been a couple of weeks since we moved into the Barkley Bungalows. Our new home, a horseshoe shaped complex consisting of about twenty dwelling units around a central courtyard with a swimming pool, was built just before the Second World War.

  As my big dog took his evening stroll around the dead landscaping, I decided that our new home looked like it might have been used for target practice during the big war. The complex was undergoing renovations, something that was being filmed by one of those home improvement shows, but it looked like months of work still lay ahead. To make matters worse, our new landlord, Bub Barkley, had rented out most of the other units to starving actors, some of whom had acting roles in a show about zombies called Hollywood Walkers.

  “Looks like most of the walking dead are already in bed,” I said to Bernie as we headed for our apartment.

  As I was fishing for the keys in my handbag, I heard my friend Mo’s deep, yawning voice. “I saw you working that crime scene on the news today. Looks like it was a long day.”

  My friends rent out the apartment next to mine. “It hasn’t been a happy new year, so far.”

  “Why not come in for a nightcap. Baby sis and me got some news.”

  I thought about declining her offer but the coffee was still working in my system. I decided that a nightcap might help out. “Let me put my bag away and I’ll
come over.”

  Ten minutes later I’d put Bernie to bed and then settled onto the sofa across from Natalie and Mo in their apartment. My friends had arranged for Mo’s boyfriend, Larry, and his brother, Phyllis (yes Phyllis—his mom wanted a girl and had saddled him with the name that she’d chosen before he was born) to do some remodeling and painting. Their place looked brand new, in contrast to my apartment that looked like the before picture in a home improvement ad.

  “Me and Mo went to the Rose Parade today,” Natalie said. “We ran into that bloke your sistah works for.”

  “Jimmy Sweets,” I said after sipping my wine. “Not my favorite guy.”

  Sweets was a private investigator and first class sleaze, somebody I’d warned Lindsay about every chance I got. My sister thought she might want to go into the field of law enforcement someday, and had decided to get some hands-on experience.

  “We’re thinking ‘bout going to work for him.”

  “What?”

  “It’ll give us a chance to keep an eye on your sis,” Mo said. “Jimmy also offered us a partnership.”

  Having Natalie and Mo around Lindsay, especially on a full time basis, raised lots of red flags, given some of my friends’ past antics. “What kind of partnership?”

  Natalie clapped her hands and her voice rose in excitement. “We’re gonna be called Sistah Sweet. We get half of everything Jimmy’s business rakes in.”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Jimmy Sweets has a reputation for dealing with some pretty shady characters.”

  “What private dick doesn’t deal with scum?” Mo asked, regarding me with one eye. “It goes with the territory.” She looked over at her snoop sister. “Besides, baby sis and me will be fresh blood, raise Jimmy’s profile in the community.”

  Fresh blood just might be the operative words.

  “Whatever you do, just don’t drag Lindsay into any trouble. She’s got…Lindsay’s still working through what happened with her father.”

  My sister had shot and killed her father, saving my life. The story is long and sordid, so I won’t go into all the details, other than to say that Lindsay’s father was the man who murdered my own father when I was a child. He’d been planning to kill me after learning that his wife, Lindsay’s mother, was also my birth mother after having been in a relationship with my father almost thirty years ago.