Hollywood Rage (The Hollywood Alphabet Series Book 18)

by M. Z. Kelly

  “She was extremely upset. I know that she wanted to see Dunbar in prison for what he did to her and the other women.”

  “Did she ever mention someone threatening her, telling her not to testify against him?”

  Marilyn shook her head. “Who...who was threatening her?”

  “We’re not sure. There were some phone calls and a message left that we’re aware of.”

  She sniffed, and her features hardened. “Do you think that bastard killed her?”

  “We don’t know. It’s still early in our investigation.”

  She shook her head and looked away, but otherwise didn’t respond.

  After giving her a moment, Woody continued. “Was your sister having problems with anyone that you can think of? Friends, family, maybe acquaintances?”

  He got a head shake. “No one comes to mind. Mel did her best to get along with everyone.”

  Woody glanced at Olivia before brushing the blond hair off his forehead and forging into deeper water. “Was your sister seeing anyone else, anyone besides Henry?”

  She dabbed her tears. “I don’t think so, but there are some things we didn’t share.”

  Woody softened his tone. “Can you tell me what you mean by that?”

  “Mel was a private person. I’m just saying, if she was seeing someone else, I didn’t know about it.”

  “I see.” Woody took a moment before saying, “There were some other men that we’re aware of.”

  “Other men?”

  “Your sister was seeing men that she met on different websites. It appears they were short-term relationships.”

  Peters’ forehead tightened as she looked at Woody. “What exactly are you saying?”

  “These men...it looks like they were arrangements where someone pays for sex.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  He shook his head. “What can you tell us about that?”

  “I can’t tell you anything. If Mel was...if she was seeing these men, I can’t explain it.” She choked up, and there were more tears.

  Woody gave her a moment and looked at us, a silent signal that it was our turn if we had additional questions.

  Leo waited a beat before taking over. “Is it possible one of the men your sister was seeing was giving her a bad time?”

  Our subject cleared her throat. “What?”

  “At odds with Mel, maybe asking her for money?”

  “Money for what?”

  Leo softened his sonorous voice. “For silence. Not to tell anyone that she was seeing someone who took money for sex.”

  “I still don’t believe my sister would do that.”

  Leo leaned closer, lowering his voice even further. “I’m sorry. I know this is difficult. Did your sister ever tell you anything about these men, maybe about someone who might have been threatening her?”

  Marilyn’s voice pitched higher. “Never. If she was...if she was with these men, I don’t know anything about it. Mel and I didn’t share a lot of personal information, and I certainly don’t know anything about her paying for...for sex.” She broke down again, then said, “I really don’t have anything more to say.”

  Olivia remained seated and said to the rest of us, “Why don’t you give us a moment.”

  After leaving the residence, we waited on the street for Olivia. Bernie made use of the time by sampling the exotic scents of the grass near the sidewalk, while Darby expounded on his theory about the killer being a male prostitute. “You ask me, Mel was a sexual addict.” He looked at me. “She was probably acting out because of her past assault. We’ve all seen that scenario play out dozens of times. Who knows, she might have even been turning tricks on the side.”

  “I think you’re way off base,” I said, tugging on Bernie’s leash as he eyed a flowerbed. “While Mel might have had some past trauma, that’s a far cry from her being a prostitute.”

  Darby shrugged as Olivia came out of the house. “All I’m saying is that sometimes past issues are an indicator of future behavior.”

  After Olivia came over to us, I said, “Did you get anything more?”

  Our lieutenant took a breath and released it slowly. “No, but I think there’s something Marilyn Peters isn’t saying.”

  “Like maybe that her sister was turning tricks,” Darby said, apparently deciding the lieutenant was unknowingly confirming his theory.

  Olivia shook her head. “I doubt that. I just get the feeling there’s something more. I’m just not sure what it is.”

  When we were in the car, I could tell something was still on Olivia’s mind from her discussion with Marilyn Peters and asked her about it.

  “I’m not sure what Marilyn is hiding,” she said. “All I do know is from personal experience that sisters sometimes share secrets. To solve this crime, I think we’re going to have to uncover those secrets.”

  TEN

  Olivia had a meeting at the Police Administration Building and directed Darby and Woody to attend Mel’s autopsy at the coroner’s office. Leo and I were sent to meet with Kathy Maitland at the Forensic Science Division, or FSD, in downtown Los Angeles. That division of SID was responsible for overseeing field investigations of crime scenes and the related technical analysis of evidence.

  Maitland was in her thirties, with mousy brown hair, and a pale complexion from spending long hours in the laboratory and at crime scenes. After taking a seat across from her in a cluttered office in the Erwin Piper Technical Center, she went over the facts of our case.

  “I talked to Randolph with the coroner’s office earlier today. He confirmed from his preliminary examination there were two rounds, one that severed a major artery.”

  “Do we have anything more on the murder weapon?” Leo asked, pulling out his notebook.

  Maitland shuffled her notes as she responded. “The gun was manufactured in Germany in the early 1940s and issued to the army during the war. It’s a collector’s item that’s probably worth in the neighborhood of a thousand dollars.”

  “Was it ever registered?” I asked.

  “Yes, to a dealer in Arizona, but that was several years ago. We’re trying to contact him and get some more specifics.”

  “Anything else that was noteworthy at the scene?” Leo asked.

  “No, but there is evidence someone cleaned up after the attack.”

  “In what way?”

  “The prints at the point of entry all came back to the victim, but there’s evidence other areas were wiped down with bleach to get rid of any prints.”

  Maitland went on for a couple minutes, discussing the scientific particulars of fingerprint detection and analysis.

  Leo then asked, “What about hair, fibers, other evidence?”

  “I’m sorry. We came up empty.”

  I studied Maitland for a moment. She had years of experience working crime scenes, and I knew that sometimes the best evidence wasn’t hard evidence, but rather conjecture based on years of experience.

  “Tell me what’s between the lines,” I said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Your best guess how the crime went down, based on the facts as we know them.”

  Maitland took a breath and drew her thin hair back with her fingers. “Don’t hold me to this, but if I had to guess, I’d say that someone your victim knew came in through the back yard and knocked on the patio door.”

  “Did we find any footprints in the yard?” Leo asked.

  Maitland shook her head. “Just that the grass was wet and trampled down.”

  “Go on,” I said.

  “We know that the victim had prior threats made against her. She probably had the patio door locked, but knew her attacker and unlocked it. What followed was a sudden, unexpected attack, probably made by one individual.”

  I gave her a moment as I processed what she’d told us, then said, “Anything else?”

  “I think the attack was personal. It might have even been an act of rage, giving further credence that our victim knew her attacker. I thin
k our killer was acting out of revenge or anger, or both.”

  My phone rang as Leo asked a few follow-up questions, but I’d already heard enough. Mel Peters knew her killer, and the attack was personal. It made Reginald Dunbar a prime suspect, but it didn’t rule out someone else having a personal vendetta against my friend.

  I saw that the call was from Woody as I asked, “Is the autopsy finished?”

  “Randolph just completed everything, and Olivia’s on her way over here.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The autopsy revealed something that might explain what was happening with Mel over the past several months.”

  “Leo and I are on our way.”

  ELEVEN

  The dress was low-cut and black. It hit Haley Robinson above mid-thigh, just low enough to conceal the black garter belt that supported her dark silk stockings. Her wig was darker than her real hair, and she used latex appliances to change the appearance of her nose and chin. The finishing touch was an application of heavy makeup to conceal her features. When she was finished, she decided it was the perfect disguise. She laughed. No one would recognize her, not even her own mother—not that she had seen her mother in years.

  Haley walked over to the vanity desk in the corner of her bedroom. She looked into the mirror and said, “What do you think?”

  The ghostly visage of her long dead sister appeared, and her disembodied voice rose up. “You don’t even look like you,” Lizzy said. “What are you going to do?”

  Haley smiled, seeing the image of her sister just as she had been at age twelve. It was strangely comforting to know that Lizzy never changed, even as she herself got older. “You’ll know soon enough.”

  The conversations with Lizzy had begun a few weeks after what Haley now referred to as “the transformation”. Her sister wouldn’t talk about that long ago day on the boat. But, since the transformation, Lizzy had become Haley’s constant companion, even though she couldn’t actively participate in her life.

  When she was younger, her mother had no idea that she talked to Lizzy. She was always careful not to tell anyone, especially Dr. Tanner, whom she still occasionally saw. Lizzy always seemed happy to hear about her day. They discussed all the things that typical sisters share. During Haley’s teen years, the topic was school, clothes, and boys—mostly boys. Lizzy was always keenly interested in the subject, until it came to intimacy.

  “You did what with him?” Lizzy had asked Haley after she’d lost her virginity one night in her junior year in high school.

  Haley smiled. “Donny and I...” She giggled. “We had sex.”

  “That’s disgusting. I hope...” Lizzy studied her sister. “You didn’t enjoy it, did you?”

  Haley was confused, unsure how to answer. “I guess...I’m not really sure. It was...” She took a breath. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Does mother know you’re seeing...Donny?”

  “Of course not. I don’t share anything about my life with our mother.”

  Lizzy’s eyes, a shade darker than Haley’s, were still fixed on her. “You know what was done to me.”

  Haley’s eyes met her sister again, before her gaze moved away. “Yes, I’m sorry. It will never happen again.”

  After that day, Haley understood that she and her sister shared a special bond. What had been taken from Lizzy before she had died would be avenged. She had realized that on that long-ago day in her psychiatrist’s office. It was a matter of time. Pleasure, especially that of the flesh, was no longer possible. She was an empty shell that had carried one need through the long days since Lizzy’s murder: revenge.

  And tonight, revenge would be hers.

  TWELVE

  After leaving Kathy Maitland’s office, we met up with Olivia in the lobby of the coroner’s office. We then joined Woody, Darby, and Dr. Randolph in one of the conference rooms near the autopsy suite. Bernie settled beside me after we all took seats, and the deputy coroner told us about his findings.

  “Death was caused by a gunshot wound that dissected the subclavian artery, as I discussed at the crime scene.” The youthful deputy coroner smiled. “That was the immediate cause of death, but there was another killer already at work.”

  “What are you talking about?” Olivia asked.

  “I received Ms. Peters’ medical history early this afternoon. She was suffering from pancreatic cancer.”

  I looked at Olivia. “I had no idea. She never said anything.”

  Randolph went on. “Unfortunately, the cancer went undiagnosed for some time and had already spread when it was detected. The marks on her antecubital fossa were likely caused by blood samples taken and the administration of drugs by medical personnel during her diagnosis and treatment. The weight loss and jaundice were also symptomatic of her condition.”

  “How long ago was she diagnosed?” Leo asked.

  “Just over two months when she went to the hospital complaining of back and abdominal pain. That resulted in a series of tests that confirmed the diagnosis.”

  After taking a moment to process the findings, Olivia asked, “Anything else that’s noteworthy in her medical history, or that came up during the autopsy?”

  “I would estimate the TOD at between two and five in the afternoon.” Randolph went on for a couple minutes, discussing more than I cared to know about liver temperature, stomach contents, and lividity. Nothing he said added to our knowledge about the crime.

  “Thank you for your findings,” Olivia said when Randolph was finished. “May we use your conference room for a few minutes?”

  “Of course.” He rose. “If I can be of any further assistance, please don’t hesitate to call.”

  When he was gone, I said to Leo, “Randolph obviously didn’t go to the Earl Mumford school for coroners.”

  He chuckled. “A breath of fresh air.”

  “Let’s talk about where the findings leave us,” Olivia said after Leo and I filled everyone in on what Kathy Maitland had said.

  “It leaves us with a victim who knew she was terminal a couple of months before her death,” Darby said. “It might explain what was happening with her.”

  “I’m assuming you’re referring to the men she was seeing,” Leo said.

  Darby shrugged. “If you know you’re gonna die, why not go out getting laid?”

  We were all silent for a moment, impacted by Darby’s blunt statement. I finally said to Olivia, “It could account for the recent changes in her lifestyle.”

  She nodded. “We need to talk to her boyfriend in the morning.” She looked at Darby. “Did Jenny and Molly come up with anything more on the men she was seeing?”

  “Not sure. They were going to do some more digging today, but I haven’t heard anything.”

  “There’s still the Dunbar factor,” Woody said. “Since he had a motive, we need to follow up on his alibi.”

  “Let’s have our crime analysts do some research on his relationship with Howard Livingston and verify they were together. We’ll also need to talk to the wife.”

  “I’m sure she’s a pleasant lady,” Darby said with a snort. He looked at me. “I vote we let Sexton handle her.”

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “She’s a woman. I just thought she might relate better to you than someone like me.” He looked at Olivia. “I obviously have a reputation that precedes me.”

  Olivia smiled, but otherwise didn’t respond. “We’ll discuss assignments in the morning.” She looked around the table. “Anything else?” When there was nothing further, she said, “Have a good evening.”

  Leo and I stayed behind for a couple minutes, chatting with Olivia about the case after Darby and Woody left. As we were gathering up our belongings, Olivia said, “Are you two up for a bite to eat? I know a great little restaurant around the corner.”

  “I’ll have to pass,” Leo said. “My granddaughter has a school play that I’m already late for.”

  “Why don’t you take the car and go ahead,” I offered. I l
ooked at Olivia. “If you can drop me and Bernie at the station later to get my car, dinner sounds great.”

  Olivia and I went to an Italian restaurant called Giovanni’s, near State Street. The place had a nice vibe and the delicious smell of fresh bread hit us as we settled into a table that overlooked a courtyard. I agreed to let the server walk Bernie in the enclosed patio area for a moment after he brought us glasses of Chianti and doted over my furry partner.

  Olivia and I clinked glasses as I said, “Just what the doctor ordered.” I chuckled. “Or maybe I should say the coroner.”

  Olivia sipped her drink before telling me, “I might need another one of these.”

  I agreed with her, as Mel came to mind. I remembered having drinks with her and Cynthia McFadden a few days earlier. The reporter had left me a message earlier in the day, asking for my thoughts about Dunbar being involved in her death. While I couldn’t discuss the case with her, she was a friend, and I made a mental note to call her.

  “You look like you’re a million miles away,” Olivia said.

  My thoughts surfaced. “Sorry, I was just thinking about Mel.”

  My lieutenant swirled the wine in her glass. “Let me ask you something that’s been on my mind. Did Mel have any history of...I guess you would call it ‘promiscuous behavior’, for lack of a better word.”

  “Not that I know of. She’d been divorced for several years. I didn’t even know she was dating.” My earlier thoughts about Darby came to mind, and I decided to tell her about them. “I could be way off base, but I wonder if she and Darby could have been involved at one time, since they were partners.”

  She chuckled and swept her dark hair off her forehead. “Darby? Really?”

  I smiled and shrugged. “He was her work husband for a while. Stranger things have happened.”

  “Probably. I just prefer not to think about them, or the thought of him and Mel hooking up.”

  I smiled. “It’s just conjecture. Forget I said anything.”

  “This is homicide, so I won’t forget it, or rule anything out.”