by Lee Hollis
“I’ll make sure of that, Doctor,” Poppy said with a huge sigh of relief, determined to make it her personal mission to prevent Matt from blithely putting himself in harm’s way again.
Chapter 14
Poppy was not surprised to find out that late the previous evening a highway patrolman had pulled over a speeding Jaguar on the 10 freeway heading west to Los Angeles, and when the officer ran the license and registration, she was informed the driver’s name was Chase Ehrens and there was a warrant out for his arrest.
Poppy had been confident that it would not take long for the law to catch up with the arrogant movie actor after Speedy’s confession. But what did surprise her was at his arraignment the following day at the Larson Justice Center in Indio, where Chase pleaded not guilty to the charge of attempted murder in the first degree, the judge had granted him bail in the amount of five hundred thousand dollars due in no small part to his high-priced lawyers who tossed out arguments like no priors, no history of violence, well respected in his industry. Chase’s manager promptly paid the bail money and the accused was now free until his trial in three months’ time.
And now on the set of Palm Springs Weekend in the wide open range of Joshua Tree National Park where Poppy and Matt were keeping watch over their client, Danika was still fiercely defending Chase, refusing to believe he had had anything to do with causing the crash that had nearly killed Matt. She had cornered the two of them at craft services where they had stopped for coffee. The gaffer was still discussing the lighting plan with the cinematographer so they still had plenty of time before Danika would be called to the set to shoot the scene.
“I know he has a hot temper at times, and can be a handful, but he is basically a good guy. I wouldn’t be defending him so vehemently if I didn’t believe it in my heart,” Danika said to Poppy and Matt, both of whom remained thoroughly unconvinced.
“A legal process has begun, Danika, so why don’t we wait and see how that plays out first,” Poppy said diplomatically.
“No!” Danika shouted, stomping her foot. “You don’t understand. Prosecutors chomp at the bit to go after famous defendants. It’s a way to make a name for themselves, get rich writing books and scoring gigs as TV pundits. It’s a racket and it’s disgusting!”
Matt stayed uncharacteristically quiet.
Poppy was confused as to why Danika was badgering them about Chase’s court case. “What is it you think we can do, Danika?”
“Matt can talk to the prosecutor, refuse to testify, ask them to drop the charges,” she said with a straight face.
“Drop the charges? Seriously, even if he wanted to do that, and I would strongly advise him against it, the prosecutor doesn’t have to listen to him. I’m sure they feel they already have enough evidence to win the case, plain and simple. A plea from Matt will not change that.”
“What’s the harm in him at least trying?” Danika whined. “Matt, I thought you cared about me. . . .”
Poppy could feel her face burning up with rage. This spoiled young actress was so obviously, so shamelessly trying to manipulate him.
“I do . . .” Matt said. “It’s just that—”
Poppy could not take anymore. “Chase is going to stand trial for nearly killing Matt, whether he personally sabotaged those brakes or had someone else do it. There is no point in discussing this any further.”
Danika reared back like a coiled snake, eyes blazing. There was a long moment of deadening silence before she hissed, “I don’t like your tone, Ms. Harmon. As a matter of fact, I no longer feel comfortable having you near me.” She whipped around to Matt and hissed, “Matt, if you want to continue working for me, I need you to fire her.”
Poppy suppressed a smile.
Matt cleared his throat and looked sheepishly at Danika. “The thing is, technically I work for Poppy. She is the boss.”
“What?” Danika cried. “But I thought . . .”
“The Flowers in the Desert Flowers Detective Agency doesn’t actually stand for Matt Flowers. The three founders are named after flowers, Poppy, Iris, and Violet.”
Danika was thunderstruck. The idea of three women old enough to be Matt’s grandmothers as his bosses was utterly inconceivable. She took some time to process all of this before addressing Matt again. “And so you refuse to do as I wish, even though I’m paying you a lot of money?”
Matt slowly nodded.
“Then you’re fired. All of you. I want you off the set now, or I’m going to call security and have you escorted off,” she snarled before stalking away.
“What do you think she’s going to do when she finds out we’re stuck here as actors with contracts and aren’t going anywhere?” Matt asked Poppy.
“It’s going to make for a very awkward day,” Poppy said, chuckling.
“I thought she really liked me,” Matt said wistfully. “And now I find out she was only interested in Chase all along, and was just using me to make him jealous. She gets off on toying with men, playing them off each other.”
“I feel as if this is all my fault. I encouraged you to pursue a relationship with her. How could I have been so wrong?” Poppy said with despair.
Matt hugged her. “You couldn’t have known. At least Danika proved one thing. She’s a decent actress. She had us all fooled.”
Greta Van Damm suddenly blew on the set, panicked eyes scanning the area, clearly disturbed by something.
Poppy and Matt exchanged curious glances and wandered over to her. Before they had a chance to speak, she zeroed in on them. “Have you seen Hal?”
“No,” Matt said. “Is something wrong?”
She didn’t bother answering him. Instead, she made a mad dash over to Trent, who had now joined the conversation between the gaffer and cinematographer. “Hal drove out here ahead of me, his car is in the crew lot, so he’s around here somewhere but I can’t find him.”
Trent sighed, irked by Greta’s interruption. “I haven’t seen him. Maybe he’s visiting with one of the actors in their trailer.”
Greta suddenly registered a look of alarm. “Well, that would be a disaster in the making, now wouldn’t it?”
Trent finally saw the implication of Hal Greenwood somewhere on the loose unsupervised. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
“So why don’t you have the assistant director call all the PAs and have them spread out and find him.”
“Got it,” Trent said, hustling off to find his AD, who was at the moment nowhere in sight.
“Why do you think everybody is so nervous?” Matt asked.
“Hal Greenwood’s reputation has been an open secret in Hollywood for years,” Poppy said before adding bluntly, “He’s a sexual predator.”
“Oh . . .” Matt whispered, wide-eyed.
“From what I heard from some of my old friends still working in the business, there is a long list of actresses who have worked for Greenwood over the years, all of whom were bought off with fat settlements and silenced by ironclad nondisclosure agreements.”
A thought abruptly popped into Poppy’s head. “You stay here, I’m going to go check on Danika.”
“What for? She dismissed us.”
“I know, but if Hal Greenwood is on the prowl, I’d feel much better knowing he’s not trying to worm his way into her trailer. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to her.”
Poppy scurried off toward the row of trailers that housed the cast located several hundred feet from the main set and opposite the rest of the trailers for makeup, hair, wardrobe, and production. Since today’s schedule did not involve any crowd scenes, the cast area was almost deserted. Poppy glanced around for any sign of Hal, but found none. When she reached the first trailer, the biggest one reserved for the star, she stepped up on the rickety stairs attached to the aluminum-sided trailer and rapped on the door with Danika’s name printed in the middle of a yellow star.
There was no answer.
Poppy tried again, knocking her fist harder against the metal door. �
�Danika? Are you in there? It’s me, Poppy. I need to speak with you!”
Still no answer.
Suddenly from behind her, she heard someone say, “I don’t think she’s in there.”
Poppy spun around to find Timothy, the production assistant. “What makes you say that?”
“I mean, she could be. Maybe she’s got headphones on listening to music, but when I brought Mr. Greenwood by just a few minutes ago, she didn’t answer.”
Poppy’s heart nearly jumped in her throat. “You brought Hal here to Danika’s trailer?”
“Yup, he wanted to see her about something. He knocked and knocked but she never opened the door. He finally got frustrated and stormed off mad.”
Worried, Poppy whacked on the door a few more times.
Still nothing.
She tried the door handle.
It was unlocked.
She wasn’t sure if she should just barge in, especially if Danika was napping, or with someone, or just wanted to be left alone. But it was not as if Poppy was in any danger of displeasing her client; the girl had just fired her.
So she just went for it and swung open the door.
The lights were on inside the roomy trailer and the TV was broadcasting the E! Entertainment channel and some fluffy report on Lizzo’s upcoming concert tour.
Poppy’s eyes scoured the room until they settled on someone lying on top of the bed. She instantly recognized the cute patterned strapless T-shirt dress Danika had been wearing when they last saw her. There was a pillow over her face, which caused a dreaded feeling of déjà vu deep within Poppy.
Timothy called from outside the trailer, “Is everything okay in there?”
Poppy raced over and removed the pillow and tossed it to the floor. Danika’s empty, glassy eyes stared up at Poppy. Her mouth was open and contorted as if she had been screaming at the top of her lungs as someone snuffed the life out of her with the pillow.
Everything was definitely not okay.
Because Danika Delgado was unmistakably dead.
Chapter 15
Poppy had been so shaken and unsettled by her stumbling upon the lifeless body of Danika Delgado sprawled out with a pillow over her face that she had nearly fainted dead on the spot. Matt swooped in to catch her and half escorted, half carried her out of the trailer while Greta Van Damm, who was quickly called to the scene by Timothy the production assistant, took charge and called 911.
Matt gently led Poppy over to a nearby director’s chair and had her sit down. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. This was highly unusual for her to react in such a dramatic way. After all, this was not the first time she had seen a dead body let alone a crime scene in the time since opening the Desert Flowers Detective Agency. But it was the strong sense of déjà vu that was overwhelming her, and Matt quickly picked up on it.
“What is it, Poppy? What has you so spooked?” Matt asked, clasping her hand, trying to offer her some comfort.
Poppy shook her head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“But—”
“Please, Matt. Not now.”
Her tone was firm and Matt relented and asked no further questions. Poppy knew she would have to explain everything at some point, but was not emotionally prepared to do so just yet.
Remarkably, the police arrived within twenty minutes followed closely by the county forensics team. The set was swarming with law enforcement, and Poppy recognized the head honcho running the entire show immediately. Detective Lamar Jordan, primary detective with the Riverside County Central Homicide Unit. He was tall, handsome, African American, outspoken and charismatic. Poppy had met him on a number of occasions, and although she could not claim that the detective was outwardly hostile toward her, he certainly did not appreciate her recurrent presence at the crime scenes he was called in to investigate.
Poppy watched with a sense of dread as Detective Jordan questioned Timothy about who it was who discovered the body. Timothy turned, pointing in Poppy’s direction. When Jordan’s eyes fell upon her, he audibly groaned. He then shook his head and sternly marched over to where Poppy was sitting with Matt.
“Hello, Detective Jordan,” Poppy said tentatively.
“Poppy Harmon,” Lamar said, rolling his eyes. “Of course you’re here.”
“It’s always nice to see you,” Poppy said. “I wish just once it would not be under such tragic circumstances.”
“Me too, believe me,” he said, stone-faced. “Now, would you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
Matt, who didn’t appreciate Jordan’s dismissive attitude toward Poppy, interjected, “Poppy is playing a role in the movie they’re shooting.”
Jordan turned his head toward Poppy and arched an eyebrow. “You’re acting again?”
“Yes,” Matt answered for her. “We’re both in it.”
Jordan chuckled derisively. “Matt Flowers. The Hercule Poirot of the Coachella Valley. My wife reads of your exciting exploits in the Desert Sun. I think she may even have a little crush on you.”
Matt could not help but crack a smile, flattered.
“So you’re strictly actors and not here in any official capacity as private investigators?”
They both hesitated before Poppy answered, “No, that’s not exactly true. Danika Delgado hired us to find a stalker who has been harassing her.”
“I suspected as much,” Jordan said, sighing.
“His name is Byron Savage,” Poppy continued. “And we have found a home address in Desert Hot Springs. You really should look into him because he has crashed the set before and—”
Jordan cut her off. “Yes, I know. And according to the crew we’ve already talked to, security has been tightened considerably since then. The guard swears no one outside of the cast and crew working today has been anywhere near the victim. We’ll check it out, but it’s unlikely this stalker is actually responsible for murdering Ms. Delgado.”
A chill ran through Poppy’s body.
Jordan noticed Poppy slightly trembling. “Are you okay, Ms. Harmon?”
“Yes,” Poppy whispered, obviously disturbed.
“Something you want to tell me?” Jordan asked.
Poppy raised her eyes to meet his and said firmly, “No.”
She needed to process what was now racing through her mind before she could seriously consider discussing it with anyone, even the detective looking into Danika’s murder.
“All right then, that’s all for now, but you can bet I’ll be in touch with more questions,” Jordan said firmly.
“And we will certainly be available at any time to answer them, Detective Jordan,” Poppy said, forcing a smile.
Jordan shook his head one more time and walked away.
“Not our biggest fan,” Matt remarked.
“He just doesn’t like us sticking our noses into police business, making his job harder.”
“But maybe if we all try working together . . .”
“Detective Jordan doesn’t strike me as a team player.”
Matt sighed. “I somehow feel this is all my fault.”
Poppy sprang to her feet. “Matt, no . . .”
“I should have stuck by her side, even after she fired us, and then maybe this would never have happened.”
“You heard the detective. The set was locked down. We thought she was safe,” Poppy insisted.
“But she wasn’t. And that’s on me.”
“I will not allow you take the blame for this, Matt, but if it makes you feel any better, we can push forward and try to find out who—”
“There you are!” Hal Greenwood bellowed as he hustled his hefty frame toward them with Greta chasing after him. “I just heard you two are not really actors!”
“Well, I have a People’s Choice Award that would help argue that point,” Poppy balked.
Hal turned to Matt. “I thought you were a security guard, not a private detective!” Hal bellowed.
“Danika hired them,” Greta calmly explained. �
��To find her stalker.”
“So Danika was paying them?” Hal growled.
Greta hesitated. “Not exactly. There was a clause in her contract for added security, if necessary, and so—”
“I’m bankrolling these two clowns? Well, okay, if they work for me, then I can fire them!” Hal yelled at Greta before turning back to Poppy and Matt. “You’re fired!”
“Twice in one day,” Matt said under his breath.
Greta quietly said, “Hal, they still have contracts as actors—”
“It doesn’t matter! I’m shutting down production until this whole ugly mess is figured out. If and when we start up again, it will be with an entirely new cast!”
And then Hal angrily waddled off, his face as red as a ripe tomato, followed on his heels by his loyal lieutenant, Greta.
Poppy and Matt exchanged resigned looks. Poppy’s comeback and Matt’s big break were both now officially kaput.
Chapter 16
Linda Appleton.
Poppy sat back in her chair in front of the desktop computer in the garage office, stunned.
She stared at the name again, making sure she had read the name right.
Sure enough, there it was in black-and-white on a news Web site.
Linda Appleton.
She had known the woman a long time ago.
And memories of that awful day way back in the mid-1980s when Linda had so tragically died suddenly came flooding back.
Poppy swiftly grabbed her phone and called to arrange an emergency meeting at the Desert Flowers Agency with her partners. Violet and Matt were already en route to the office. Iris was on the golf course and grumbled about having to cut her game short, but reluctantly agreed to come right away.
When they were all assembled, curious to know what was so important, Violet handed out cups of coffee to everyone as Poppy took the floor and solemnly addressed them.
“I’ve stumbled upon a possible development in the Danika Delgado murder I need to share with you,” Poppy said, visibly rattled.
“Poppy, you look pale, perhaps you should sit down,” Violet suggested, worried.
Poppy waved her off. “I’m fine, Violet.”
