Hollywood Murder

by M. Z. Kelly

After having Bernie settle next to my desk, I took a seat across from Leo who saw me massaging my brow. “Everything okay?”

  I got monkeys in my head and I’d rather be dead. I decided I was bordering on delirium. “I made the mistake of stopping by my friends’ apartment when I got home last night and had a nightcap. Let’s just say that it had some lingering effects. I didn’t get much sleep.”

  He smiled and regarded me for a long moment before saying, “I’ve been there myself a time or two.”

  “I also found out that I have to move in thirty days.” His brows went up and I explained, “They renovated my apartment complex and the rents are doubling. I don’t suppose you know anyone who has an apartment for rent for someone who’s a paycheck away from being homeless.”

  “Sorry, no, but I’ll ask around.”

  I decided to try and forget my personal issues and concentrate on work. “What’s the latest on Marsh?”

  “Oz wants to meet in about a half hour. The scuttlebutt is they’ve already got a replacement for Mel.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Not sure, except I heard he’s a lateral from the sheriff’s department who’s got a background in homicide.”

  A lateral transfer was a term used in law enforcement for someone who transferred from one police jurisdiction to another, keeping their same employment classification.

  “Maybe the new guy can mellow out Captain Compassion,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “Darby. If someone told him his mother was in a burning building he’d want proof she was on fire before going in.”

  Leo laughed. “You’ve got a point.”

  We chatted about our case for a few minutes before Selfie stopped by our desk. Our crime analyst had orange hair this morning, maybe because we were supposed to meet with Shelia Woods for another filming session late in the day.

  Selfie lowered her voice, looking in the direction of the lieutenant’s office as she told me, “I just saw the new detective that’s been assigned to Section One. He’s really hot.”

  I smiled. “I’m off the market, but a little eye candy never hurt anybody.”

  She giggled. “I think he might have rode in on a horse.”

  My brows inched closer together. “What makes you think that?”

  “He’s wearing a cowboy hat. Have you ever known anyone in Hollywood who wore a cowboy hat?”

  My anxiety level immediately took off like a rocket ship to the moon. I did the math: a lateral transfer, a background in homicide, he worked for the sheriff’s department, he looks like he rode in on a horse. The rocket exploded. It all added up.

  I gulped in a breath, the drunken monkeys playing a rap song in my head called Loved ya Once. “What’s this guy’s name?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think someone said it’s McCray or…”

  “McCade,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Could it be Buck McCade?”

  “That’s it.” Her eyes narrowed on me. “Do you know him?”

  I glanced at her, looked away. “I think we met once.”

  The truth was, we’d done a lot more than just meet. Buck McCade and I had been an item at one time. We’d met on Catalina Island where he’d worked as a homicide detective. Mo’s niece had been kidnapped and we’d worked on the case together to find her. Along the way… It’s a long story. Let’s just say that things heated up and we fell in love before his mentally ill ex-wife showed up and started threatening me. Despite Buck’s insistence that she wasn’t dangerous, I’d called things off.

  “You okay?” It was Leo, again checking on me. I saw that he was on his feet. I realized that he and Selfie were about to head for Oz’s office while I’d mentally been on an island with a cowboy.

  I took a breath. “I just need to take something for my headache. I’ll meet up with you in a minute.” I handed Leo Bernie’s leash, telling my big dog, “I’ll be there in a minute, buddy.” Maybe I can find a dose of cyanide in my purse.

  I went into the restroom to search my handbag for poison and try to do something with my hair.

  “Oh, my God,” I said out loud, standing in front of the mirror.

  Why hadn’t I realized before now that my hair made me look like Peter Pan had escaped from Neverland? I took several deep breaths, trying to control my nerves and the pounding in my head. Why was I acting like this? Buck and I were history—maybe not ancient history, but at the very least old news kind of history. And besides, I was in love with someone who rocked my world. What the hell was wrong with me?

  All the questions swirled around in my head until I felt dizzy. I looked up, seeing the reflection in the mirror of someone walking into the restroom. That’s when Peter Pan wished Captain Hook would show up, use his sword, and end her misery.

  “What the hell happened to your hair?”

  The question came out as a hiss from a snake known as Jessica Barlow. In my mind, Jessica was an historical figure. She was personally responsible for expanding the English language by replacing the letter w with a b in the word witch. Jessica and I had gone to high school together, before she’d decided to also become a cop and ruin my life. We’d had more than our share of tense words, and even a few shouting matches over the past few years.

  The snake hissed again. “Do you have alopecia?”

  Jessica had just struck a nerve. I hated it when anyone, let alone a woman with a forked tongue, made disparaging remarks about a medical condition. I didn’t turn around, but my eyes narrowed on her reflection in the mirror as the monkey troop played a hater song in my head.

  “Tell me something,” I said. “Do you live in this restroom, suddenly materialize, and climb out of a toilet when I show up?”

  I know, I was showing no mercy, but between the monkeys, Buck, and now the hissing serpent standing behind me, I was fresh out of compassion. An outsider might have even said I was Darby’s sister.

  The snake rattled. “You’ve got some nerve, talking to me like that.”

  The merciless Peter Pan resurfaced. “If what I just speculated is true, you know what that makes you?”

  “I’m not going to stand for your nasty comments again,” the human turd snarled. “I’m going straight to Profession Standards.”

  The Professional Standards Bureau, also known as PSB, was the department’s euphemism for internal affairs.

  I turned around and laughed at her. “Go ahead. While you’re there, turn yourself in for impersonating an officer—no, make that a human being.”

  I left the restroom as Jessica went on a rant, saying something about me losing my hair. I knew it was just a nasty comment intended to make me feel bad, but it brought back my thoughts about looking like a boy in a magical realm. I dragged a hand through what I now decided was my balding pate, sucked in a breath, mentally yelling at the monkeys to knock it off, and walked into Oz’s office.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said, taking a seat at the table and not looking at the handsome man sitting at the far end of the table. Bernie wandered over, wanting a dose of attention.

  Oz was apparently unaware of our history and, after giving me some background on Buck added, “I think Detective McCade will make an outstanding addition to our unit.”

  I took another breath, gave my dog the hand signal to settle down, and mustered the nerve to look at Buck. “Welcome to Section One, Detective McCade. Nice to see you again.”

  “You two know each other?” Oz asked.

  Time stood still. Even though I realized all eyes had turned in my direction, I’d been rendered speechless. Buck McCade was just as I remembered him—tall, broad shoulders, sandy short hair, and eyes the color of a Montana sky in the summer. He was even wearing one of those coats with a western cut and I saw he had his Stetson on the table in front of him. I gulped in a breath and tried to speak, but realized someone had dumped sand in my mouth.

  Buck saved me by telling Oz, “We met a while back. Got along real good as I recall, didn’t we Kate?”

  I nodded,
and my voice came out as a squeak. “Yes.”

  The room remained quiet for a long moment as Oz looked at us, maybe trying to piece things together. He finally looked around the table and said, “Okay, let’s get down to business. I’ve brought Buck up to speed on Marsh and want you all to know there’s been a new development.”

  I braced myself, wondering if this development involved Shelia Woods. As it turned out, I was way off base.

  “As of this afternoon, the feds are being brought into our case. They will take the lead and we’ll assist, as needed.”

  I glanced at Leo, pushing down my anger. My partner said what we were both thinking. “Everyone at this table knows that bringing in a bunch of new players at this point in the game is just going to make a bad situation worse. I’ve seen cases…”

  Oz cut Leo off. “I know, Buster. But this isn’t my choice.”

  I looked at my partner, the skin on my forehead tightening. I was about to ask him about the nickname Oz had used when Darby chimed in. “We might as well just pick up our toys and go home.”

  I shook my head, annoyed by both the pounding in my head and his bad attitude. “We can’t do that. We have an investment in this case and I’m not willing to just walk away.”

  The lieutenant supported what I’d said, adding, “At least we know now that we’re dealing with two kidnappers, a man and a woman. The media is also putting blow-ups of their photos out there, taken from the ’copters, even though they don’t have much detail. Maybe somebody will recognize something.”

  Buck spoke up. “I’m just the new guy in town, but I think Kate’s right about continuing to work the case. We back off and the feds will run this case into the nearest ditch like a tractor with a bum wheel.”

  Damn. Buck McCade was not only one of the most handsome men I’d ever met, he was also smart. And there was the way he talked. It brought to mind strong men in the west who spoke in an easy way, but always got their point across.

  His partner wasn’t impressed. Darby eyeballed him and said, “You’ve been on too many cattle drives. This case is a loser and the press is going take us down with it if we give them a chance.”

  Oz had heard enough. “I don’t care about the press, the feds, or the brass, for that matter. We work this case for the victims and give it everything, like with any other case.” His baby blue eyes swept over us. “End of story.”

  After letting what he’d said settle in for a minute, Darby asked, “So where do we go from here?”

  The lieutenant turned to Leo and me. “Let’s try to get ahead of things before the feds get here. I want you two to go back to Henry Montreal this morning. The kidnappers are going to contact him again and we’ve got to make him understand that he needs to cooperate if he ever wants to see his daughter and grandkids alive.”

  Darby spoke up again. “You ask me, Montreal only cares about his money. He’s going to end up with a dead kid or another piece of his daughter’s body.”

  Oz sucked in a breath and released it slowly, obviously irritated. “That might be the case, but we do everything we can to try and head that off.”

  “Maybe we should think about working another angle,” Buck said.

  Oz looked at him. “What’s that?”

  “We know this Henry fellow’s a hard row to hoe, but what about his wife? Maybe she can take the starch out of his underwear.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at the way he phrased things. The lieutenant also apparently saw the humor in what he’d said, and the wisdom. “That’s not a bad idea.” He smiled and looked at Leo and me, raising a silver brow.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to try,” I said. “Georgette has obviously been devastated by what’s happened and desperately wants her family back.”

  “Maybe we can talk to her away from her husband,” Leo suggested.

  The lieutenant nodded. “Let’s make it happen.” He turned to Darby and Buck. “I want you two to go back to the Hancock Park neighborhood where the Marshes lived.” He focused on Darby. “Question that witness you and Mel spoke to before. Maybe she remembers something about the maid being with the husband or something else that’s worthwhile.”

  Darby shrugged. “We talked to her once, but it’s your show.”

  Oz told Darby and Buck they were dismissed. As they left the room, Buck leaned over to me and said, “Maybe we can grab a cup of brown later.”

  I knew brown was his word for coffee. “We’ll see,” I said, glancing at him. He turned and was gone.

  The lieutenant then asked us for an update on the Potter case. Leo summarized where we were.

  “We had a preliminary meeting with Woods and her crew, and spent a few hours filming the murder scene the other day. Shelia Woods is insisting on interviewing Sam, the victim’s daughter.” He looked at me. “Kate came up with something that might be worth checking out.

  “The Potter residence sits in a lower area in the Hollywood Hills,” I said. “There’s lots of homes on the hillside overlooking it. I thought it might be worth checking out the neighbors.”

  “We got something yesterday,” Selfie said. “But with everything happening on Marsh we didn’t get a chance to tell you.” She looked at Molly.

  Her counterpart swept a strand of red hair behind her ear. “We did a 290 search and found there’s a registered sex offender that lives almost directly above the Potters’ house. The guy’s name is Howard Dern, age twenty-six. The offense involves him molesting a twelve-year-old girl back in 2013. He’s on felony probation.”

  Oz looked at Leo and me. “Our case doesn’t involve a sexual assault.”

  “I think it’s still worth checking out. Maybe his hobby is burglary when he’s not molesting kids.”

  “Let’s do it. It’s my understanding you’ve got another session with Woods this afternoon.”

  “If I don’t kill her first,” I said, remembering what my friends had said about her quoting me as a source during yesterday’s ransom drop.

  Oz smiled. “According to Mel, the department is totally behind her. She gets complete access to the investigation.”

  “Mel.” I shook my head in disgust. “Anyone else here feel betrayed?”

  After listening to my coworkers grumblings, Oz said, “No one likes this less than me, but we still have to play nice in the sandbox.” He then dismissed Selfie and Molly.

  We took a moment as the room cleared, Leo and me venting about both Shelia Woods and Mel Peters.

  Oz expressed his sympathy before changing the subject, his eyes narrowing on me. “I wanted to give you both an update on what you found out about Kellen Malone as it relates to the deaths of Jean Winslow and your dad. Captain Dembowski privately told me he thinks you’ve raised a lot of important concerns. He and Commander Miles wanted to meet today about everything, but it’s been pushed back a couple of days because of workload issues.”

  “That sounds more promising than I expected,” I said.

  The lieutenant nodded. “I think you’ve opened a door to something. I’m just not sure where this will lead.”

  Leo spoke up, lowering his baritone voice a notch. “We owe it to one of our own to pursue this, Ozzie.”

  “That’s why we’re here. Let’s see how things go.”

  We were gathering up our paperwork to leave when Oz said, “It sounds like you and Buck McCade have some history.”

  A half smile found my lips. If you only knew.

  I tried to choose my words carefully, but ended up saying, “Like he said, our paths have crossed. He’s got some skills.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  “Buster?” I said, referencing what Oz had said earlier, as Leo drove Bernie and me to Trousdale Estates.

  He chuckled. “A childhood nickname that I unfortunately didn’t have the good sense to lose when I went to work for the department. Only Ozzie and a couple of others still use it.”

  I smiled, grateful that the pain reliever I’d taken was finally working. “I like it.” I glanced at him. “Makes me think
of your mama calling out to you as a kid, ‘Buster, time for dinner!’”

  He met my eyes as his voice pitched higher. “It was more like, ‘Buster, what kinda trouble you been in now, boy?’”

  “Really? You don’t seem the type to get into a lot of trouble.”

  “Most of it was pretty tame, but mama didn’t let me get away with much.”

  “What about your dad?”

  His smile waned. “Haven’t seen him since I was about eight. Not even sure if he’s still alive.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “He made me a better man.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Some people learn by bad examples. I guess I’m one of them. Him not being around made me a better dad and grandpa.”

  What he’d said made me think about what my love-dad had said about a gift being left behind where there is loss. Leo then changed the subject, asking me about Buck.

  I took a breath and ran a hand through my short hair, trying not to think about Jessica’s earlier comments about my new hairdo. “We were involved at one time.” I glanced at him. “I’m not sure how it’s going to go working with him.”

  Leo took a moment before responding, driving through the tree-lined streets of Beverly Hills. “It’s like most things that are difficult. You put them in a box and walk away.” He met my eyes. “You’ll find a way to deal with it.”

  “I hope so.”

  After announcing ourselves at the front gate to the Montreal estate, we were let inside. A servant led us to a sunroom where Henry Montreal was studying a small mound of paperwork in front of him.

  Our host nodded toward some chairs for us to take seats, not bothering with greetings. “If this is going to be another lecture about what went wrong yesterday, I don’t want to hear it.” He turned away, sipping his coffee and looking through his paperwork.

  “We just want to talk about how things go from here,” Leo said. “At some point, you’re going to be contacted again.”

  He tossed a couple of papers he had in his hand on the stack and looked at Leo. “I’ve got the money, so they gotta deal with me. I’d say that still leaves me in the driver’s seat.”