by M. Z. Kelly
“What about Marsh?” I asked. “Did you see him coming and going?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but the times roughly corresponded with his work schedule. Nothing out of the ordinary, and he was always alone.”
I considered what he’d said for a moment. “Since we have no idea who we’re dealing with, it could be that our shooter is in the recordings, walking through the lobby, and we just don’t know it.”
He agreed, and said, “Why don’t we have Selfie and Molly go through everything? Maybe they can make stills from the recordings. It might help us out down the road.”
I agreed to work with them on the project. I then mentioned what Brie had said about the CFO for Wallace Studios dying under suspicious circumstances. “She said that Walberg was either pushed or fell from a three story building. Brie speculated that he might have known if Donald Regis had ties to the Revelation.”
Leo nodded. “I remember the case ended up cold and came to us. As far as I know, nothing much ever came of it.”
“Just another mystery,” I said as we pulled up at the Montreal residence.
The gates to the modern residence were already open, and there were a couple of unmarked cars in the driveway. After being let into the house, we saw that Darby and Mel were already there, along with Nadine McKee. They were all in the living room, sitting across from the Montreals.
We took seats and I had Bernie settle at my feet. Darby then gave us the latest. “Mr. Montreal got a call about an hour ago. It came in on a business line and went to voicemail.” He looked at the billionaire, raising a brow.
“The guy said he wanted five mil. I told him that kind of money will take some time to pull together. He gave me twenty-four hours.”
“This can’t be happening,” Montreal’s wife said, falling against him and weeping. “I can’t imagine what the children are going through—or Allison.” She began weeping. “And Vince is gone. Oh, God…”
“I can play the recording, if you’d like,” Nadine McKee said, lowering her voice out of sympathy for Georgette. “It came through on a burner phone, so there’s no way to trace it, of course.”
I nodded as the youthful analyst pulled the phone out of her briefcase. McKee was probably in her late twenties, but looked like she was barely out of high school. She had brown hair and deeply set green eyes, about the same color as mine. Her enthusiasm for her job was obvious as she told us about the call.
“We have taps on all the phones, including the house, personal, and business phones. This call came through on the phone that Mr. Montreal uses strictly for his private business affairs.”
“I don’t know how in the hell he got the number,” Montreal growled. “It’s only known to my secretary and business associates. Since the number’s been compromised, I’ll have to get rid of it.”
“Not until this is over,” I said. I looked to McKee. “Let’s hear it.”
She hit the play button and we heard a man’s electronically altered voice. It reminded me of something out of a sci-fi movie. “I have your daughter and grandchildren. They will die unless you do as I say. Keep the cops out of this. I want five million in unmarked bills. I will contact you within twenty-fours with the details.”
As the line clicked dead, Georgette took the opportunity to fall apart again. Deep sobs wracked her body as she slumped down on the sofa.
“Get a grip,” Henry said to her. He patted her knee and glanced at me and Leo. He looked back at Georgette. “We’ve got to be strong through this for…for everyone.” He looked at Leo and me again. “How do you want us to proceed?”
“We wait for another call, but you tell him you want proof…” I glanced at his weeping wife, being careful about how I phrased things. “…that your daughter and grandkids are okay. We don’t move ahead until we get it.”
Georgette spoke up. “What if…” She looked at me, finding some measure of composure. “What if…they won’t give us proof?” She looked at her husband. “We can’t let them die.”
“No one’s going to die,” Henry growled. He was obviously irritated by the way his wife was handling things. He looked back at me. “What kind of…proof should I ask for?”
“Tell him you want to speak to your daughter.”
He nodded as a phone chirped in his coat pocket. He stepped out of the room and answered the call as his wife started weeping again. I took the time to try and offer her some reassurance. “We’re going to get them back safely, but, your husband is right, you need to be strong. Allison and the children will be home soon.”
She used a tissue to blot her tears. “You really believe that?”
I glanced at Leo, then back at her. “Yes. But, you also need to keep the faith.”
Her husband came back into the room after ending the call. “I’ve got some pressing issues to deal with. If there’s nothing else…”
His wife stood up and came over to him. “Henry, you can’t leave…” She cleared her throat. “We have to stay here until Allison and the kids are safe.”
Her husband’s eyes drilled into her. “I won’t be held hostage by the bastard who took them. You stay here if it suits you. I’m going…” He turned to us, maybe realizing that his true personality was showing. “I’ve got some work to do on a deal that I’m putting together. I also need to work on some liquidity in case we have to pay the ransom. If another call comes through, I’ll be in touch.”
Twenty minutes later, we’d done our best to calm Georgette down by calling a friend to come over and stay with her. Darby and Mel had left immediately after Montreal, following him at a distance.
As Bernie and I got to the car, I turned to Leo, “What do you think?”
Leo regarded me for a long moment. “I think this case is going get real ugly before it’s over.”
TWENTY-ONE
Leo and I got back to the station just after five. Bernie and I were headed for my car when Noah called. “What are you doing right now?”
I stood in front of the ancient green Ford Escort that I drive called Olive. The car was all I could afford because I was still in financial recovery after my divorce. “I’m about to get into a death trap and head home. What’s up?”
“I’m on the street in front of the station. I’ve come to rescue you and Bernie.”
I looked toward the street, now seeing that his car was parked on Wilcox Avenue. He waved to me and I said, “Are you stalking me, Mr. Fraser?”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I tugged on Bernie’s leash, moving in his direction. “Then I’ll go willingly.”
A couple of minutes later, Bernie and I got in his car. Noah kissed me and then put the car into gear. “Hold on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Outer space.”
I regarded him as I buckled up. “Have you lost your mind?”
“I’ve heard love will do that to a person.”
I laughed. “Then we’re both desperately in need of help. Take me to your leader.”
As it turned out, Noah had brought a picnic dinner and took us to Griffith Observatory for the evening. The iconic domed structure, built in the 1930s, was nestled on a hillside overlooking Hollywood. I knew from reading about Hollywood history that the famed art deco building had been used as a backdrop for several movies over the years, including Rebel Without a Cause and The Terminator.
After our picnic, we spent a couple of hours touring the observatory and attending one of their programs that included a presentation about the history of our solar system. It was dusk, with the moon rising over Hollywood, as we left the building and walked around the grounds with Bernie. We chatted for a few minutes, me telling Noah the latest with my friends and Nana, something that was always good for a few laughs. He asked me about the latest with Kellen Malone and the Revelation.
I filled him in and said, “Robin’s got a new love interest who works as a script writer at the studios. He said Adam’s been working on a script for a crime show re
cently, and was told to make some changes to it. He mentioned that somebody at the studio wanted him to insert some lines of dialog into the script.”
“What kind of lines?”
“It had something to do with locations and dates. He thought it might be some kind of message about an upcoming meeting.
“Did he make the changes?”
I nodded. “He said he didn’t have any choice. I suggested that the four of us get together for drinks so we could ask Adam for more details about what happened.”
Noah considered what I’d said for a moment, before saying, “Do you think that’s a good idea? This group sounds really dangerous.”
“I’m a big girl…” I took a breath, remembering the promise I’d made to myself to find my love-dad’s killer. “…and if Malone or someone else was behind my dad’s death, I have a moral obligation to find him.”
Noah reached over and took my hand. “I understand. I just worry about you…and us.”
I told him I would be careful before we took a seat on a bench overlooking the darkening city. The conversation turned more serious, Noah mentioning his grandparents. “My grandfather, I called him Poppy, was a big fan of the original Mercury astronauts. He brought me here when I was about eight. I’ll never forget it.”
“It sounds like the two of you were close.”
His gaze moved off toward the lights coming on in the city below us. “I still remember the day he died. I was in high school and got called into the office by the principal. My mom was there and told me Poppy had passed. It was the saddest day of my life.”
I touched his hand, sharing the emotion of what he’d said. “And your grandmother? What was she like?”
“Bessie.” His smile grew wider. “She was the original Mrs. Doubtfire, a pure dose of unconditional love. I miss them both every day.”
I rested my head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. They sound like they were wonderful.”
“They’re part of the reason we’re here tonight.”
I looked at him. “You mean, because of your grandfather’s love for space.”
“There’s that and…” Noah reached into his pocket and removed a silver locket. “This was worn by my grandmother. It’s nothing expensive, but every time I look at it I’m reminded of her and Poppy.” He handed it to me. “I want you to have it.”
I held the heart-shaped locket in my hand. There was something elegant and simple about the necklace that had been passed down through the years to me. It brought tears to my eyes.
Noah took the locket and placed it around my neck. “There,” he said. “Now it’s just you, me, Poppy, Bessie, and Bernie. All my favorite people in the world.”
I smiled at him, brushing my tears away. “I just realized something, Noah.”
He cupped a hand around my neck, leaning in closer to me. “What’s that?”
“You’re a hopeless romantic.”
He chuckled and, just before our lips met, said, “I’m guilty, Detective.”
***
Noah dropped me back at the station to retrieve my car just after nine. When I got home I found Mo, Natalie, and Carly Hogg, on the patio next door to my apartment. The evening was warm and the trio appeared to be taking advantage of the weather and one of Natalie’s exotic drinks.
“I made us a batch of Leonardos,” Natalie said. “They’re like that old movie the handsome bloke starred in. A couple of these and you go down for the count faster than the Titanic.”
I took a seat as Bernie went over and got a dose of Natalie love. “I’ll pass. I’m still in recovery from the Dirty Harrietts.”
Carly, a big woman, who was a co-star on their Hollywood Girlz sit-com, shook her head. “If you’re gonna be on TV, you’ve got to learn to party like a rock star.” She took a swig of her Leonardo, swallowed, and blew air out of her pursed lips like she’d just swallowed vinegar. She looked at Bernie. “Now that’s what you call the hair of the dog that bit you.”
“Speakin’ of being a star,” Mo said. “What’s the latest with Hollywood Detective?”
“We’re just getting started. We’re supposed to shoot some scenes where the couple was murdered tomorrow.”
Mo went on, “I asked around town ’bout what happened. A couple of workin’ girls referred to the bad guy as the Walk-in Killer.”
“You mean like the bloody Night Stalker?” Natalie said. “Maybe I should start sleepin’ with Clyde’s pistol.”
Clyde was Natalie’s deceased octogenarian husband. The thought of her sleeping in an apartment next door to mine with a gun was scary as hell. “I think you’re safe. We’re still in the process of putting the facts of the case together.”
“Mo’s got the facts,” Carly said. “I think you should hire her as a special assistant on your case. She could solve it faster than…” She took another gulp of her Leonardo. “…a sinking ship.” She made a whoop-whoop sound and stomped her feet, which made me glad I hadn’t tried the concoction.
“I’m available for consultations at a reduced fee, just for you,” Mo said. She straightened the night’s headpiece, a blue wig. “I also heard that Marsh case is ’bout to get hot and heavy, especially with the kidnappers demanding ransom from the billionaire daddy.”
“How do you know about that?” I demanded.
“It’s all over the telly,” Natalie said, answering for her. “That reporter you’ve been workin’ with broke the news on her six o’clock show. She even said somethin’ ’bout you giving her inside info.”
“What? That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe so,” Mo said. “But Shelia Woods sounded like you’re her new best friend.” She regarded me. “You got somethin’ goin’ with her on the side?”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s hardly my type.”
Natalie had taken a swig of her Leonardo and put the glass down. It didn’t seem to bother her. “Kate’s committed to Noah, and he’s got himself somethin’ Shelia don’t.”
Carly guffawed. She was obviously drunk. “Like rabies?”
“Don’t know ’bout no rabies,” Mo said. “But the doggy doctor’s got Kate in heat.”
Carly stood up, wobbled, and nearly fell down. She got up again and said, “I better go before you all have to carry me home. See you later.”
When she was gone, Mo said, “One of these days Carly’s gonna go down like a turtle on its back and won’t be able to get back up.” She regarded me. “What you got ’round your neck?”
“It’s a necklace Noah gave me. His grandmother wore it.”
My friends both leaned closer to me, examining it. Natalie made the pronouncement. “He’s a goner, Kate. When guys start giving you grandma stuff, it’s all over. Next thing you know it’ll be an engagement ring.”
I laughed, maybe a little too loudly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
My friends shared a look, like a couple of judges pronouncing a guilty sentence. After taking bets on how long it would be before I got engaged, they changed the subject.
“That fashion show we mentioned is next week,” Natalie said. “And Nana’s gonna be the oldest cat on the catwalk. We need your help.”
“It’s for charity,” Mo said, looking at me and raising her brows. “You can even designate who gets the proceeds from your part in the show, and we know you wanna send that girl whose parents got whacked to see her grandma.”
Mo was now tugging on my heartstrings. Samantha, the daughter of the victims in our Hollywood Detective case, had never seen her grandmother who lived in England. I’d made a promise to take up a collection to send her there if we broke the case.
I stood up. “I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too long,” Natalie said, calling after me as I headed for my door. “All the good outfits will be taken, and you’ll be left with somethin’ Nana turned down.”
TWENTY-TWO
Frank Dyer paced around the living room of the mountain cabin while Sasha continued to watch TV. Afte
r seeing the news reports, he stopped and looked out the window. From where he stood, he could see the sun glistening off Big Bear Lake as it began to set. Even though it was spring, he knew the nights in the mountain cabin he’d rented could get cold. He went over and put a log in the fireplace as he considered their circumstances.
Allison and the children were locked in the basement below them. It had been a smart decision to move them. He’d seen the reports that the police had located the shipping warehouse near the port where they’d been kept. It had been Sasha’s idea to come to the mountains after telling him that she had a feeling the police were closing in on their location. She’d said she had a sixth sense about some things and to trust her. He was glad he’d listened to her.
There was also the matter of Vince Marsh being dead. His murder had been unexpected and put a whole new slant on things. Dyer had no idea who had killed him, but Sasha said her money was on one of the bimbos the attorney had been screwing. She might be right about that. He’d followed Marsh for weeks before supposedly going to work for him. The handsome attorney had his pick of companions and had been involved with half a dozen women over the past year. Jealousy might be behind his death, but Dyer knew they had to be cautious. This was the endgame and nothing could interfere with their plans.
After the fire was roaring, he joined his companion on the sofa. He saw that she’d turned off the news and was now watching one of those reality TV shows, something about that Olympic gold medalist who had become a woman.
“Why are you watching that junk?” he demanded.
Sasha smiled at him. “I think he makes a great looking woman.” Her eyes held on him. “Have you ever thought about it?”
“Thought about what?”
“Becoming a woman.” She laughed as he tossed a pillow at her.
“Not in this lifetime.” He pulled her over to him. “Later, I’ll show you what a real man can do.”
