That was the key to commercials. They were looking for a type. The funny one, the girl next door, the sexpot, the mom, some stereotype that could immediately be telegraphed.
At least that's what her agent, August, told her. She trusted him and hoped that was the right choice to make. She was as street smart as a kid could be coming out of the suburbs of Arizona.
She had come to Los Angeles two years ago at the age of fifteen as a runaway. Her mother was an opioid addict and her father had been in prison for so long she couldn't even remember the last time she saw him. After the last time her mother nearly overdosed and died, Debi knew she had to get away. She took off, taking a Greyhound bus from Arizona to Los Angeles.
It had been a tough first year, but she’d come with a plan. She found a room right away in a charity house for runaway teens. There she met a girl who helped her get extras work on tv shows with live audiences. She met August Jackson at one of those gigs. He became her agent.
She hadn’t booked any real commercials yet, but she was getting a lot of auditions. It was just a matter of time. August helped her get a fake ID stating she was twenty-one so she could waitress. She’d sent out her headshots to all five of the places he’d recommended. The fifth one said yes. It was a diner in Echo Park that had open mic comedy nights. She was able to find a room in a house a few blocks from the diner.
It wasn’t glamorous, but at least she didn’t have to watch her mother waste away from her addiction. It was a tough life, but it was her own.
She looked down at the lines again and wished she’d get called already. A waft of expensive perfume made her look up. A well-dressed woman in her thirties with a dark bob had taken the seat next to her. Their eyes met and the woman gave Debi a warm smile.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked.
“As ready as I'll ever be,” Debi said.
“When’s it your turn?” the woman asked.
“My audition was for three o’clock,” Debi said and looked at the time. It was already four o’clock. Why did all the auditions have to always run late?
“They do always run late, don’t they?” The woman echoed Debi’s thoughts.
“God, yes. Why is that?”
“It’s always been like that. Are you new?” the woman asked.
“I’ve been at it for a couple of years,” Debi admitted. She was surprised she’d told her that. Debi wasn’t so into talking to strangers.
“You look young,” the woman asked.
“I think that's why I'm getting so many auditions,” Debi said without thinking.
“Because of how young you look? How old are you?” the woman asked.
“I'm seventeen.”
“I would've never put you past fourteen,” the woman said. “Are you getting a lot of callbacks?”
“I am. Mostly for girl-next-door type for commercials,” Debi admitted.
“Your age helps that since you can work longer hours than a fourteen-year-old,” the woman said.
Debi nodded and wondered why she was talking to her. Some other girls were glancing her way with jealousy in their eyes. She must be someone important. That made Debi sit up straighter.
“My name is Georgie,” the woman held her hand out to Debi. “Georgie Shipwell.”
“My name is Debi Mills, nice to meet you,” Debi said as she shook her hand. “Are you a casting director here?”
“Oh no,” Georgie said. “I’m here to see Marguerite. She's a dear friend of mine. We’re supposed to grab an early dinner. It looks like she's going to be late though.”
“Yes, we still have four girls left,” Debi said and looked over at the girls still reading their sides.
One of them shot her a dirty look and looked away. Debi was happy to be chatting with Georgie. It was helping her nerves.
“Are you new in town?” Georgie asked.
“Why would you ask that?” Debi asked in surprise.
“You seem so fresh,” Georgie said. She leaned closer to Debi and lowered her voice. “And Los Angeles can kind of wear a girl down if you know what I mean,” she said.
“I came here two years ago,” Debi said.
“Why did your parents move here?”
“I moved here myself,” Debi said and didn't expound on the reason why. Georgie smiled brightly. “I do hope you get it. I'll put in a good word for you with Marguerite. Be good to have some fresh faces in these commercials that you see.”
Debi nodded and smiled. Could this be the break she was looking for? It couldn't be that easy, could it? She’d heard stories about girls being plucked out of obscurity and getting their careers rolling just like this. And this wasn't some guy that would want to try to have sex with her. It was a woman which is so nice because a lot of times women just didn't want to help other women. Georgie didn't seem like she was that kind of woman, though.
The door opened again, and another girl came out. The blonde-haired woman peeked her head out and took note of the remaining girls in the room. When she caught sight of Georgie, she smiled.
“Georgie, I’m so glad you came. I'm going to be so late,” Marguerite said. “Come inside,” she waved her over.
Georgie stood up and smiled down at Debi.” Nice to meet you. Best of luck,” she said and sauntered over to Marguerite where they air-kissed and gave each other hugs.
The door closed and Debi went back to her sides. She was having trouble concentrating on her lines now, as her mind raced at all the possibilities this first job could potentially open for her. Oh, she did hope that Georgie would put in a good word with Marguerite for her.
Her heart skipped a beat and her cheeks flushed.
A little jolt of happiness found a home in her chest. She had endured so much in her short life and she would be so grateful to finally catch a break. It was her time and if she did manage to book this job, she knew all the others would soon follow.
That's what August always said. It just takes that one job and then they were off to the races.
He was in a small agency out in the valley and was trying to make a name for himself, too. It's probably why he was sending her to so many auditions.
Debi was grateful for his support and wanted to prove to him and herself that she could and would be a successful actress.
If just given a chance.
The door opened again, and another girl was called. Debi took a deep breath and lifted up her chin.
Today was going to be her day.
6
Day 1
Detective Harri Harper pulled up to a modest bungalow in the Los Feliz area of Los Angeles. Los Feliz was one of those neighborhoods that eighteen years ago was working class. Now it was filled with million-dollar homes nestled between smaller bungalows whose residents had lived in them for over thirty years when it was a gang-infested hood.
It was a strange eclectic mix of the upwardly mobile and the working class. Mavis James’s home looked more working class than the million-dollar homes surrounding hers.
Harri grabbed her purse, her notebook, and her phone and walked up to the front door. She knocked and a woman in her forties opened it a crack. Her eyes were puffy and her skin blotchy. She’d been recently crying.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“My name is Detective Harriet Harper,” Harri said. “I've been tasked to help find your daughter, Addison. I’m not sure if you’ve already spoken with my colleagues?”
“I'm so glad you're here,” she whimpered and gestured for Harri to come inside.
Harri stepped into the darkened hallway and walked into a small living room furnished with couch, chair, coffee table and a flat-screen TV on the wall. Mavis James was not interested in decorating, apparently. The furniture was purely functional.
“Please sit,” Mavis James said and motioned to the couch.
Harri sat down and Mavis joined her on the other end.
“If you don't find a missing person in the first forty-eight hours, they’re most likely gone for good,”
Mavis began.
“That does not necessarily have to be the case. Especially with teenagers who have the tendency to run…”
“Addy did not run away,” Mavis said in a weary voice. As if she’d said that same thing a thousand times already.
“How can you be so sure?” Harri asked.
She knew the question came off as blunt, but it was easier to get to the bottom of whatever family dynamics were happening. Addy had already been gone for three weeks and Harri needed to cut to the chase.
“We didn't have problems like that.” Mavis shook her head as if she already knew what Harri was going to say. “Addy didn’t run away. She had just started seeing a boy and he is kind and nice. She has her guitar here and, quite frankly, if she had run away, she would've taken her guitar with her.”
“Addison's father mentioned that she had a full ride to Julliard?” Harri asked.
“That's correct.” Mavis nodded. “She’s going to start next fall. They wanted her to come early because of how exceptional she is, but she decided she wanted to finish up her senior year at John Marshall.”
“John Marshall was her high school?” Harri asked, jotting it down in her notebook.
“Yes,” Mavis said and sniffled.
“When was the last time you saw your daughter?” Harri asked. She got out her phone and activated the voice recorder. “You don't mind if I record this, do you?”
Mavis shook her head no. She was an attractive blonde with creamy skin who could easily still have men turning their heads as she walked by. She’d caught a slight scent of alcohol and body odor from Mavis. As if she hadn’t showered in a day and drank herself to numbness instead. Harri wondered what she did for a living, but she knew that wasn’t a pertinent question yet.
“I saw her on her way to school,” Mavis said carefully, so as not to start crying again. “It was a Friday and she went off at the normal time. She doesn't have any guitar lessons on Friday, so she left her guitar at home. She’d mentioned to me she was staying over at Sophie Lambert's house that night.”
“And Sophie Lambert is her friend?”
“Her best friend actually.” Mavis smiled. “Since they were little girls. She's trying to be an actor. I kept telling her that it’s a grueling profession and not worth all the sacrifices you have to make for it, but she doesn’t listen. She’s got the bug.”
Harri nodded and jotted down that Mavis James was a former actor.
“And does she typically go anywhere without her cell phone?” Harri asked. That was one of the things she’d discovered as she started looking to the case. “Addy’s cell phone was found at Sophie Lambert's house. Knowing teenagers, that doesn’t make a lick of sense.”
“Never.” Mavis shook her head. “I know that if she left it at Sophie’s, it was by accident.”
The other detectives must've told Mavis about the phone.
“Did Addy and Sophie have any problems recently?” Harri asked. She jotted down that she would need to be seeing Sophie Lambert next.
“No.” Mavis shook her head. “Thick as thieves, those two. If there was a snit, I would have known it. She's missing too, you know,” Mavis said.
“Has she been reported missing by her parents?” Harri asked.
Harri struggled to keep her composure and not alarm Mavis James. This was new information to her. Nothing in the files mentioned that Sophie Lambert was also missing. How could Jorge Hernandez have missed that? He couldn’t have, Harri knew. He wasn’t the best detective on the force, but he knew better than that. He was no rookie. Something was wrong, but Harri filed it away for the moment.
“Of course, she was,” Mavis insisted. “Elle Lambert, that's her mother, is a full-blown stage mom. Sophie was constantly being pulled out of school for auditions. There is no way that Elle would let a single day go by without knowing where her daughter was.”
“So both girls went missing Friday night?” Harri asked.
Mavis nodded and put her hand on her own throat, to stop the threatening tears from coming again.
“And where did Elle Lambert think Sophie was?”
“Here, if you can believe it.” Mavis shook her head. “The oldest trick in the book. Each girl telling their parents they’re at the other’s house. Hard to imagine parents still fall for that crap,” Mavis said as tears sprouted in her eyes again. “But I did.”
“And what is Addison's boyfriend’s name?”
“Nick Young. He also goes to Marshall High.”
Harri jotted down more notes as she gave Mavis James time to compose herself. Teenagers were always running away, but this didn’t feel like one of those cases. Harri thought about Addison’s father, Levi Monroe. He and Mavis were right. Their daughter was extraordinary, but every teenager could have a reason to run. Something about this case so far didn’t add up. Harri could feel it.
“Can you please show me Addison’s room?” Harri asked.
Mavis got up and led Harri to a room down the hall. “I’ve kept it exactly as it was that day. Just like the other detective told me.”
Harri looked into a bedroom painted baby blue. Where Mavis had neglected decorating with any warmth or cheer, Addison had surrounded herself with an explosion of color and femininity. Harri glanced around the room and noted the white painted furniture, white metal-frame bed, the patterned bed cover and pillows and the guitars. Three of them, two were in cases.
Harri nodded and closed the door. She followed Mavis back to the sofa where they both sat again.
“Have you put up flyers in the neighborhood?” Harri asked. “Talked to her friends? Checked her social media?”
Mavis wiped a tear and waved her hand dismissively. “All of that. I’ve done everything that other detective suggested. I’ve posted flyers and posted in the mom groups on Facebook, but nobody has seen her. She’s just vanished.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to find her,” Harri said before she could stop herself.
“Please find my baby,” Mavis said and burst into tears again.
Harri reached out and took Mavis’ hand in hers. “I will do my best.” Harri assured her.
“I gave Levi your name. I read all about how you found your sister up in Oregon. After twenty-five years. If you could find her in the woods, you can find my daughter in this goddamn city.”
Harri nodded again. “I never give up.”
Mavis wiped her tears with a linen handkerchief. Harri saw the same monogram of Levi Monroe’s that was on the card he’d left with Lt. Violet Howard.
“I'll be in touch as soon as I have any information,” Harri said as she gathered her purse and heaved herself off the couch.
Mavis nodded meekly and began to stand.
“Don't worry. I’ll see myself out,” Harri said.
Relieved, Mavis fell back into the sofa.
As Harri passed by her, she caught another whiff of light body odor and a lot of alcohol mixed together. Mavis was in the same kind of pain that her mother and father had endured when Lauren had gone missing.
Harri placed her hand to her chest and rushed out of the house. Gulping for air, she ran away from Mavis’ pain and didn’t stop moving until she was in her car.
As she started the car, her mind played through the interview. She had to speak with Jorge Hernandez next because the investigation into Addison’s and Sophie’s disappearances didn’t make any sense to her. Whenever a detective took a case over from another detective, there was an exchange of information. She’d tried reaching him before she’d left for this interview but, he was out in the field and unavailable.
Her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. When she looked at the number, she didn’t recognize it. She answered it anyway.
“Detective Harper speaking,” she said.
“Hi Harri, Tom Bards here.”
Harri frowned. Detective Tom Bards worked in the Robbery Homicide Division. She’d worked with him on the Creek killer case back in September but hadn't crossed paths with him since. As far as s
he’d heard, they were still down at that ranch digging through evidence.
Harri pulled into the traffic on her way back to the PAB. “Detective Bards, what can I do for you?” she asked.
“Seems we have intersecting cases,” he replied.
“Please don’t tell me you’ve found Addison James?” Harri said, biting her lip.
“Actually, no,” Bards said. “We do have a body, but we’ve identified it as a Sophie Lambert,” he said.
“Her best friend.” Harri sighed. “Where was she found?”
“In the wall of some B&B off Beachwood Canyon. You anywhere near there?” he asked.
“I can be. Are you there?” she asked.
“I am and I've been given the go-ahead to bring you onto this seeing as you're working the Addison James case.”
“Really?” She couldn't help but ask. Lieutenant Richard Byrne ran the Robbery Homicide Division and they were mortal enemies. Tom Bards must've moved mountains to get her attached to an RHD case. The RHD was famous for taking high-profile and media-heavy cases. It was the elite of elite detectives and a full-on boys club ruled over by one Lieutenant Richard Byrne.
Byrne had tried to push her off the Creek Killer task force even though she’d been instrumental in bringing those killers to justice by finding the woman calling herself Jane Smith.
She’d left on decent terms with the detectives she worked with, but after her escapades in Oregon she thought any hope she'd have of taking a crack at getting into RHD was long gone. Just as well because she found the cold cases suited her. And now, Detective Tom Bards was giving her a chance again.
“On my way from Los Feliz,” she said.
Tom gave her the address and she put it into her navigation app on her phone. Her heart raced as the adrenaline of getting a new case filled her. The news of Sophie’s death didn’t bode well for Addison still being alive. But with a body, they had clues. There’d be records of people in that home. A lead.
As she drove, Harri almost felt like herself again. Back on a case. Focused on helping find someone’s loved one and bringing a killer to justice.
The Broken Trail: A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller (Harriet Harper Thriller Book 3) Page 4
