She was going to kill this audition.
11
Day 2
Whatever Harri had assumed CLA Partners would be from speaking with Elle Lambert, she had been completely wrong. CLA Partners sat on one of the most impressive streets in all of Beverly Hills.
It was a gleaming white building five stories tall that overlooked Rodeo Drive. Harri was having a hard time connecting Sophie Lambert with such a place. Sophie was only seventeen and at the beginning of her career. This agency looked like it was for actors at the pinnacle of their careers.
She’d even heard of the agency even though she didn’t follow the goings-on of Hollywood very much, though she had grown up in the area. It was in the periphery. Harri, consumed by her sister's disappearance, had never thought much of it.
When they walked to the lobby Harri turned to Tom. “Is that a Rothko behind the receptionist?” she asked.
Tom looked harder. “Bet you that it’s real,” he said in a singsong voice.
“With this address? Absolutely.”
“Wasn't expecting this,” Tom said.
“Neither was I,” Harri said. “Sophie hadn’t been in anything yet, had she?”
Harri assumed it would be difficult to find this kind of representation at the beginning of one's career. She was waiting for some megastar to walk right by them. Tom took out his police ID and showed it to the receptionist.
“We’re here to meet with Derek Cosgrove. He's expecting us,” he said in a clipped tone.
The receptionist nodded and looked at something on her computer screen. “He's on the fourth floor. You can't miss his office,” she said as she pointed to a bank of glass elevators to the left. “Take those up,” she said.
“Thank you,” Harri said.
They left the receptionists and the brilliant red Rothko behind and stepped into the glass elevator. Tom punched in number four and the elevator silently rose up, giving them a fabulous view of Rodeo Drive.
“Fancy digs,” Tom said.
“You sign with us, we will give you the world,” Harri said.
“I wonder how true that actually is,” Tom said.
“Same,” Harri said.
The elevator dinged open and let them out into a large open-plan office. Harri looked past the small computer stations to a massive office beyond. Three desks stood near the door, young women with headsets all busy at their computers. Awards lined the walls behind them.
“This must be the office she was talking about,” Harri said.
Tom walked over to the nearest assistant and cleared his throat.
The assistant looked up and frowned. “There's only supposed to be one of you,” she said, looking pointedly at Harri.
“Mr. Cosgrove is expecting us. We’re from the Los Angeles Police Department. This is Detective Harriet Harper and I'm Detective Tom Bards,” he said, completely ignoring her rude remark.
The young woman flushed red and nodded. “One moment, please,” she said.
She hurried out of her seat and knocked on the door. A muffled ‘come in’ came from inside and she peeked her head in.
“LAPD is here,” she said.
She opened the door further and nodded at them. They were being led into the inner sanctum, Harri thought sourly. Who was this guy anyway?
They entered the large office and again were treated to an incredible view of Beverly Hills, West Los Angeles, and beyond that, the Pacific Ocean.
A man in his forties with a perfect salt-and-pepper crewcut and a hardbody jumped up from behind his desk and came over to them, pumping first Tom's hand and then Harri’s.
“I'm destroyed by what happened to Sophie. I can't even get over it. She was on her way to being a star. No question,” he said and directed them to a small seating area.
Cosgrove sat on the sofa, taking the entire space for himself. Harri and Tom seated themselves in the leather club chairs flanking both sides of the sofa. Harri was surprised he was going for the informal touch as he seemed like one of those power players that would get off on being behind a massive desk while talking to two lowly police detectives.
Derek Cosgrove didn't pull that power move. Instead, he sank low and deep into the soft leather sofa and looked at them expectantly.
“How can I help?” He placed his open hands on his knees, palms up. “You have to find out what happened to Sophie. It's such a tragedy. I’m destroyed,” he added again.
“How long have you been representing Sophie Lambert?” Harri asked.
“About a year now,” he replied. “She’s been up for commercials and indie films. She was up for the love interest on one of the Alien Guard movies. Have you seen those?” he asked.
“No, I'm not that into superheroes,” Harri said.
“She was on her way. The new Megan Fox. That blue-black hair and baby blue eyes and that face. Stunner. She had the look, just needed the first break to crack it open. And it was happening. It was happening.”
“How did you come to discover her?” Tom asked.
“Uh, well. You must have met Elle Lambert already?” he asked.
“The parents made the identification last night,” Tom said and let that sink in.
Derek Cosgrove blew out a breath. “That woman is the most ridiculous momager I have ever encountered.”
“Momager?” Harri asked.
“Mom. Manager. A mother who needs her kid to be a star at any cost,” Derek explained. “She’d been knocking on my door for years, trying to get Sophie representation since she was twelve. I don't rep kids. I waited until Sophie got a little older and picked her up when she turned sixteen. Once her looks had developed more.”
Even though he had tried to say it diplomatically, it still came out ugly, Harri thought. A sixteen-year-old girl was nowhere near a woman and once again she was struck by how viciously commercialized the industry was to its young. Probably to everyone, Harri thought.
“We’re trying to pinpoint all the people Sophie Lambert had contact with in the last three days before her disappearance. She disappeared on October 19. That was a Friday night,” Harri began.
Derek Cosgrove held up a hand to stop her. “I made sure to have one of my assistants put a list together for you. We know she disappeared that Friday night and we’d hoped she’d turn up. We had so much lined up for her. As the weeks went by and then she never checked in, no one heard anything. I worried this might be the outcome, but I still held out hope.”
“Did anyone come to speak to you after she disappeared?”
“No one contacted me,” he said with a shrug.
Harri did what she could to hide her annoyance. This case hadn’t been handled right from the beginning. What was wrong with Jorge Hernandez?
Derek pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Taylor, bring in the Sophie Lambert paperwork,” he said.
He hung up the phone without waiting for an answer and moments later a soft knock sounded at the door. The door opened and another young assistant came in with a manila envelope. She handed it to Derek who handed it to Harri. Irritation flashed through Harri at his assumption that she was the one who dealt with the paperwork.
Harri opened the manila folder and saw a sheet with a list of 13 auditions for the week before Sophie Lambert had disappeared along with addresses, the names of the production company, and the casting directors.
“Who would be the best person to speak to about getting a list of other actresses at each one of these auditions?” Harri asked.
“Talk to the casting directors first,” Derek said. “They should have a list of everyone they called in, who showed up, and they could probably give you tape on all of them. If you want.”
“What do you think happened to Sophie Lambert?” Tom asked.
“She met the wrong person,” Derek said. He looked past them with a grim look on his face.
“Did you hear of any wild parties that week?” Harri asked.
“In this town? There's a party every night. Just depends
what part of town and what your poison is,” Derek said.
“Did Sophie Lambert participate in that kind of stuff?” Harri asked.
“I have no idea.” Derek shrugged and sighed. “I imagine Elle Lambert would keep a tight leash on Sophie. She was her meal ticket, after all. I’d hope she’d have enough sense not to send a seventeen-year-old out to the party circuit.”
“Would Elle think Sophie dating someone famous would help her career?” Harri asked.
“I see you understand how aspects of this town work,” Derek said with a smile.
“Was she that hungry?” Tom asked.
“I don’t know,” Derek said with another shrug. “Elle had been dragging that kid all over town for years. If she wasn’t in school or an audition, Elle had her in a class or networking group or some other shit. Elle was convinced that all it would take was for the right person to get a look at Sophie. And she was probably right. Look, there's talented actors and beautiful actresses. I'm not saying that actresses can't be talented, but you also gotta be beautiful. I mean you can’t totally suck, and you can’t be a raging bitch, either. Not at first. But what I’m saying is that it’s the face or bod that opens the doors. At some point, yeah, you gotta know your craft and you’ll either sink or swim with good and bad projects. That's my job. I don't put my people in stinkers. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to afford such a humble office. I know a good project and I don’t waste my people’s time on anything else. Why bother? I don't know much about my actors’ personal lives, but they have to be clean, punctual, and know their lines. I drop clients if they become a mess. That's a liability for everyone and a waste of time and money.”
The room fell silent for a moment as Harri and Tom took in everything Derek Cosgrove had just said.
“So, you’re saying you never knew Sophie to have any drug or alcohol problems?” Harri asked.
“From my side, absolutely not. She was punctual. She knew her lines and every casting director was happy with her audition. She was a great client and I’m telling you, that face was gonna break hearts all over this town before she even got on screen,” he said.
“Thank you, Cosgrove,” Tom said standing up.
Harri followed suit and Derek followed them to the door.
“Before you go, can I ask you to do something for me?” Derek asked.
They both turned back to him and Tom said, “Sure.”
“Find the son-of-a-bitch who did this,” Derek said. “Sophie didn't deserve that.”
Harri could swear she saw a tear forming in his eyes. He was a good actor, she thought, then immediately felt bad for being so cynical. Maybe he actually cared about her. Or was it because he’d lost a valuable client with no return on his investment?
Harri and Tom returned to the building lobby and Tom gave the valet their ticket. They waited to speak until they were safely back in the cruiser.
As Harri turned right onto Rodeo, her thoughts went back to Sophie.
“Didn't sound like Sophie was a partier,” Harri remarked.
“But would he even know that? It didn't seem like her mother would have minded if she’d been rubbing elbows with the Who's Who of LA,” Tom said.
“Would a mother allow her teenage daughter to drink or do drugs? That wouldn’t make her a star. You heard him. He’d drop her as a client.”
“And why are you thinking that she was using?” Tom asked.
“There’s no obvious cause of death. No obvious signs of violence on her body. I'm thinking we’re going to find drugs,” Harri said.
“This is when I feel fortunate to have grown up in a hayseed town. I would have hated to be brought up here,” Tom said.
“I was brought up in Southern California. It wasn't all that bad. But then I did live in El Segundo and that was a world away from Hollywood,” Harri said as she maneuvered the cruiser onto the 10 Freeway.
“Were you a little surfer girl, Harri?” Tom teased her. “A little beach bunny?”
He chortled to himself even after she shot him a look of death.
“I'm thinking we split up the casting directors to see how much we can get from them before this story hits all the papers,” Harri said.
“You think press will stop people from talking to us?” Tom remarked.
“If there are drugs involved, they’ll put the blame on the victim,” she said.
“You’re right about that,” Tom said. “You gonna tell me what that was all about with the envelope?”
“Did you see him hand it to me like I was your secretary or something?”
“Oh, is that it?” Tom laughed. “I could tell you were annoyed, just wasn’t sure why.” Tom looked at the information from Derek Cosgrove. “We have a lot of people to interview.”
“We could get lucky and find what we need on the first one,” Harri said hopefully as she took a right onto Main Street.
She was glad to be back in the gritty world of downtown Los Angeles. It felt more real than the gleaming white tower they’d just been in.
She thought once again of the glittering facades that Hollywood offered the world. The building was literally an ivory tower, but the business preyed on the dreams and sometimes the flesh of the young hopefuls flocking into the industry, determined to see their name in lights. Harri pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She needed to focus on Addison and how she got mixed up in all of this.
12
Day 2
Jake Tepesky walked into the Bradbury Building on South Broadway and once again marveled at the ironwork atrium. He’d been excited to see the Bradbury Building for the first time after seeing Blade Runner, the 1981 movie that had prominently featured the building.
The movie became a favorite of his and Lauren’s. They’d visited every location from the film they could find when they were freshmen in high school. At one point, Jake had been so inspired by the building he even thought of becoming an architect, but then Lauren disappeared, and his life trajectory changed forever.
He watched the ornate elevator slowly rising to the third floor. The sight reminded him of one of the first images of this interior in the movie. The red brick building from the outside looked like any other old office building. If a person didn't know what it was, they would walk right by it. But if they walked inside and looked up, they’d see a glass ceiling and some of the most ornate ironwork on the West Coast circulating around the light-filled space, with glass elevators rising up and down between the balconies.
However much he loved the building, there was no way Jake was getting into that elevator. First, they were the original elevators from 1893. Second, he was claustrophobic in elevators already.
The FBI offices were on the third floor and he took the stairs two at a time. He was an old hat at stairs seeing as he lived on top of a steep hill. He smiled at the memory of Harri swearing up a blue storm the second time she came to his home. She still gasped at the top of the stairs. He took it as his exercise for the day.
When he got to the third floor, he looked into the camera and the door buzzed open. Special Agent Leonora Dean in Cybercrime was expecting him. He went to the front desk, showed his credentials, and signed in. Leonora turned up behind the receptionist and smiled.
“Jake Tepesky! It’s been too long,” she said.
“It has been,” Jake said as he turned to face the tall, slim, brunette.
“Do you miss us at the FBI at all?” Leonora asked.
Jake shrugged and then nodded and then shook his head no.
“At least you're honest,” she said.
It had been six years since Jake walked away from his career as an FBI profiler. He'd traveled all across the country profiling on open cases of rapists, murderers, and terrorists. Then one day he found himself in a hotel room, unsure of the city he was in, and another file to work on and he decided to come home.
Now he was a consultant for private businesses and police departments. He helped them screen potential clients and employees. It was boring work, bu
t it paid well. The difference was that he was back in control and could say no if he wanted to or needed to. He also didn’t need to see what human monsters did to their prey.
Jake frowned at that thought. He’d been seeing bodies for the last four months. First, it was the Creek Killer and then the bodies up in Oregon.
But he’d found Lauren, like he’d sworn he would all those years ago. He knew becoming an FBI profiler had helped find her, but that had been more about Harri, her little sister. Little sister with whom he was now in a relationship.
“You still with me, buddy?” Leonora asked.
“Sorry. It's been a while since I've been in an FBI office,” he said.
“I heard you had quite the run-in with an agent up in Oregon,” she said.
“Wow. Forgot how fast the FBI gossip train travels,” Jake said.
“I know that guy. He's a dick,” Leonora said.
“Better be careful what you say, Leo. Somebody connected might hear you,” Jake remarked.
Leonora rolled her eyes and waved him off. “Follow me,” she said.
“How’s Danny?” Jake asked as he followed down a hallway.
Daniel Dean was Leanora's husband, a professor of Anthropology at UCLA and lover of Pinot Noir. Jake had a momentary pang of guilt about not getting together with them when Leonora first transferred to this field office.
Jake hadn't been ready to make contact with any of his FBI pals because of his own last case. It had stayed with him worse than any other and was the reason he finally walked away from the agency.
“He's doing great. He loves UCLA. We really should get you out to dinner, or for some Pinot,” she said.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” he said.
“Here it is,” she said with a flourish of her arms as if she was on a game show and presenting the amazing prizes. “The LA outpost of the Violent Crimes against Children Program.”
Jake took a slow glance around the room and noted the bank of cubicles with agents scrolling through social media accounts, chat rooms, and computer code. Each station had multiple monitors and there were more agents across from them in what looked like listening booths. They wore gaming headsets and all of them were chatting away with some child predator.
The Broken Trail: A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller (Harriet Harper Thriller Book 3) Page 7
