by M. Z. Kelly
“We’re hoping you might help us with that,” Leo said. “Do you have any idea who might have wanted to harm your partner?”
Taylor shook his head, the lines on his wide forehead growing deeper. “I haven’t got the foggiest. Everyone liked and admired Lee.”
Charlie had on his game face. “You’re in a difficult business, Mr. Taylor. You deal with lots of celebrities and high profile clients. Surely someone comes to mind that you or Lee had some concerns about.”
“Our client list is confidential, so even if that was the case, I couldn’t say anything.”
My partner’s voice grew deeper. “We’re talking about the murder of your friend and business partner. You need to cooperate with us.”
“As I already told you, no one comes to mind.”
“What about Brett Denver?” I said. “We know you represented him, and he’s got a lot of anger problems.”
Taylor took a breath and ran a hand through his sparse brown hair. “What you’ve probably seen in the media about him having some legal problems due to drugs is as much as I can tell you.”
“What about his relationship with Harlee Ryland and the Tauists?”
The attorney’s voice pitched higher. “I heard that he and Ryland were involved, but that’s all I know. Mr. Denver makes it a point to keep his private life private.”
“We need to see your client list,” Darby said. “It’s the least you can do for your partner.”
“That’s out of the question. This practice is successful because we operate based on complete confidentiality.”
“You’re stonewalling,” Charlie said, finding common ground with Darby for the first time. “I’m willing to bet you have some thoughts as to who was behind these murders.”
Taylor again told us he had no idea who might have wanted to harm his partner. After letting him ramble for a couple minutes, Leo tried a new tactic. “I’m sure your law firm has a solid reputation in the community.”
“It’s without equal,” Taylor agreed.
“We wouldn’t want anything to interfere with that. It would be a shame if word got out to the media that you weren’t cooperating in the investigation of your partner’s homicide.”
Taylor’s fleshy features hardened. “What are you insinuating?”
Leo smiled. “I’m not insinuating anything, but we all know how the media can react when word gets around.”
Taylor huffed out a breath and rose. He walked over to a window that overlooked the city. When he finally turned back to us, his features had softened. “I’m going to tell you something, only because I want to do the right thing by Lee. He was not only my colleague, he was my friend. You didn’t hear what I’m about to tell you from me. Agreed?”
Leo answered for us. “You have my word.”
“Lee and his wife were having a lot of marital problems that I think went back to when Linda was killed. I happened to run into him one night about three months ago, coming out of a restaurant with a woman. He was nervous and introduced her as a friend.”
“Do you think they were having an affair?”
Taylor took a moment to answer, maybe choosing his words carefully. “It was much more than that. Lee and this woman had obviously been drinking. When he introduced her as a friend, she said to him, ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She then went on to say that she and Lee were married.”
“Married?” Leo glanced at me, looked back at Taylor. “Are you trying to tell us that Lee Bratton had another wife?”
Taylor was visibly shaken. “I confronted Lee about what she said when we were at work the next day. He admitted that he’d married her a couple of years back while in Las Vegas. I told him what he’d done was not only illegal, but morally wrong.”
“This woman, do you know her name?”
He nodded. “It was only later that I realized who she was because I’d seen her on TV.”
Leo was growing impatient. “Who are you talking about?”
“The woman who does that legal segment on the six o’clock news every night. She wears those tight dresses that don’t leave a lot to the imagination.”
Charlie and Darby must have been regular viewers, because they both said the woman’s name at the same time. “Carmen ‘The Bod’ Todd.”
“That’s her,” Taylor said. “Lee said he was madly in love with her.”
TWELVE
“So, the locals now know about the husband’s secret life,” Monica Linville said. The director of security for Agrasom was at an outdoor restaurant in a suburb of Washington. The establishment wasn’t crowded, but she kept her voice low as she spoke to Jack Ramsey. “I’m a little surprised Lee was able to keep things quiet for this long.”
“He had dozens of affairs, even cheating on the second wife,” Ramsey said. The handsome agent swirled the last of the Yanjing beer in his glass. “It was bound to eventually unravel.”
“And Laura, did she know?”
“Of course. She kept her mouth shut and went along with everything to try and protect the family. As we know, that didn’t happen. Her biggest concern now has to be the surviving daughter.”
Linville pushed around the remnants of a chicken salad on her plate. “I’m assuming we have operatives in place, watching her sister’s condo.”
“Twenty-four seven.”
Linville’s gaze moved off for a moment as she considered the latest developments. She looked back at Ramsey. “This complicates things.”
“You think Lee might have told Carmen Todd about what Laura has on the company?”
“It’s possible, and if that’s the case, she could expose everything.”
“But only Laura has the actual Z-91 research on Intersep. Todd might have some general information, but it wouldn’t be the first time the press has gone after the company.” He smiled. “Two words come to mind: plausible deniability.”
Linville brushed a hand through her short dark hair and exhaled. Intersep was the active ingredient in their genetically modified crops, an insecticide that intercepted invasive species and killed them so that corn, soy, and a host of other crops could thrive. It was a proprietary process that had made Agrasom a fortune.
Linville met Ramsey’s dark eyes. “The company knows that Bratton has the research on the effects of Intersep. That’s been her protection all these years.”
“Until Miller came along and began working his own game, blackmailing us.”
“Anything new on him?”
“His monetary demands are still out there. He might go after Bratton’s biological daughter if we don’t pay.”
“That would blow the lid off everything. The only reason Bratton hasn’t released the research is fear over the safety of her daughter. We know that if she or the daughter dies, the research will go to an unknown third party who will release it.”
“Her ace in the hole.”
Linville’s eyes shifted, taking in the street beyond the restaurant. She took pride in her instincts, her ability to anticipate any situation. Prescience. That’s what a Special Forces instructor had written in one of her evaluations years ago. He said her instincts and intuition bordered on the ability to predict events before they happened. That gift had kept her alive in the Middle East, and later while working for the agency. It would now be called upon to save the company and her job.
“Let me know what our people on the ground see,” Linville said, after settling the check. “I’ll be in touch about moving forward.”
After Ramsey walked up the street, Linville moved in the opposite direction. She used her burner phone to put into place actions that would protect her interests.
“Let’s move ahead on Todd, the set-up,” she said to her contact. “Sooner, rather than later.”
THIRTEEN
“So Lee Bratton was a bigamist,” Darby said after we left Jason Taylor’s office late that afternoon.
“It would seem to be the case,” Leo said.
Charlie was chewing a wad of gum. “I say we go confront
Carmen Todd at the TV studio. Maybe she got angry about her husband’s other family and took it out on him and the kids.”
I knew that confronting the TV lawyer at work would only inflame things. “It would probably be better to talk to her at home. If they were married, she not only committed an illegal act, the station will likely fire her when they find out about it.”
“I always thought that attorney was a whack job,” Darby said.
“Why is that?”
“She’s a cock-tease. Who knows, maybe she’s got other secret lives and more husbands.”
Leo smiled. “I think Kate’s right. Let’s meet with the lieutenant first thing in the morning, fill him in, and then make arrangements to talk to Ms. Todd.”
After leaving the station, I started to head for home when I got a text from Natalie, reminding me that we were supposed to meet for drinks at Delgado’s on Sunset, then go to Nana’s house for her makeover reveal. I was exhausted and thought about cancelling, but knew my friends would track me down and make me go. I dropped Bernie at home and changed before heading downtown.
Delgado’s was an upscale, trendy Hollywood bar that had opened a couple years ago. It was said to be a favorite hangout for the young, hip crowd. Lately, I wasn’t feeling very young or hip, and as I parked my ancient beat-up Ford Escort a block from the bar, I again toyed with the idea of turning around and going home.
As I walked up the street, I saw my friends getting out of a limo. I went over to them as they tipped the driver. “You two win the lottery?”
“Supa-Uba,” Natalie said, in her British accent. “Beats drivin’ Mo’s beater here and searching for parking.”
“Tell me about it,” I said, before Mo took exception to what Natalie had said about her car.
We made our way into the bar that had neon lights, pulsing music, and a meat market—as in the dating kind. A guy immediately came over and hit on Natalie, maybe because she was wearing a miniskirt and a tight blouse that left little to the imagination. I couldn’t hear what she said to him, but he hung his head and sauntered off.
We eventually found a table away from the pulsing music, where we ordered drinks, and I asked Natalie what she’d said to her potential suitor.
“I just leveled with him and said I don’t date road kill.”
“Baby sis sure knows how to let a guy down easy,” Mo said, before tipping up her drink.
“Me and Tex are exclusive to one another,” Natalie said. “No other guy comes close to his attributes.”
I didn’t even want to think about Tex’s “attributes”, as Mo asked me when I was going to get back in the dating pool. I told them about my weekend plans with Ross Adams. “We’re just friends, but we’re going to Ojai for lunch.”
“Ojai,” Mo said, looking at Natalie. “I heard ‘bout that place.”
“That’s where the celebs go when they wanna hide out and get laid,” Natalie said. “I heard that everyone from Ellen to Reese have lived there.”
I shrugged. “I’m not going there to see celebrities or get laid. It’s just a luncheon with a friend.”
Mo looked at Natalie again and rolled her dark eyes. “Right.”
After they both spent ten minutes interrogating me about my intentions, Mo mentioned the Bratton case. “I got me some juicy 411 on the couple.”
“I can use all the help I can get,” I said.
“When I mentioned before that the rumors had it the hubby had a secret life, I was right on. According to my sources he had another family.”
“Really?” I said, trying to sound like I was shocked.
“What’s so surprising ‘bout that?” Natalie said to Mo. “This is Hollywood.”
Mo regarded me for a moment. “You already knew ‘bout this, didn’t you?”
I saw no reason to deny it. “We found out late today. We’re planning to talk to the other wife tomorrow.”
“Who is she?” Natalie asked.
Before I could say no comment, Mo said, “Carmen Todd.”
“You mean that TV lawyer they call ‘The Bod’, with the big titties?”
“That would be her,” Mo said.
“I heard some guys almost launch the tuna torpedo when her segment comes on the telly.”
I thought about Charlie and Darby’s reactions earlier and decided she was probably right. “What do you know about her?” I asked Mo.
“Just that she’s a ball buster, takes on lots of underdog causes. You ask me, she found out her hubby had another family and wasn’t too happy ‘bout it.”
“Mo’s right,” Natalie said. “She must be the one that whacked the family and put masks on ‘em. Wonder why she didn’t whack the other wife? I woulda.”
I took a sip of my Chardonnay. “I think there’s a lot more to what happened.”
Mo still had her eyes fixed on me. “Like what?”
“It’s too soon to say. We still have a lot more work to do.”
My friends went on for a few minutes, speculating that everyone from a TV news anchor who worked with Todd to the former chief of police was involved in the killings.
Mo then changed the subject and mentioned something that caused my anxiety level to spike. “I heard the Tauists finished their retreat and are back in town.”
“Is Harlee back at their compound?” I asked.
Mo shook her head. “Word has it she’s renting a big house up in the hills and is planning to put the Tauist headquarters up for sale.”
“Really? I wonder why she would do that.”
Natalie gave us her thoughts. “I think she just wants to sell the place so she can party. You ask me, she’s not really into the whole Tauist thing like her granddaddy was.”
I remembered my confrontation with Harlee, her telling me that she was committed to the Tauist cause. “There must be other reasons she’s selling.”
Mo lowered her sonorous voice. “We heard through the grapevine that she’s planning something big.”
“As in?”
Mo shrugged her big shoulders. “Don’t know. But if I was you, I’d watch my back.”
After listening to my friends tell me that Harlee had it in for me, I was happy to leave Delgado’s and head for Nana’s to take my mind off what they’d said. I’d already been threatened once by Harlee, and knew from her reputation that she was capable of almost anything. A wave of depression hit me as I contemplated always looking over my shoulder, wondering if she would be coming for me.
A butler met us at the door after we arrived at Nana’s estate, which she was now sharing with her dead husband’s brother, Boris. “The lord and lady of the manor will be with you shortly,” the servant said, after showing us into the great room.
After he was gone, Mo motioned to a framed portrait of Nana and Boris on the wall and said, “Next thing you know, we’re gonna have to call her Lady Nana.”
Natalie lowered her voice. “I can’t wait to see what she looks like.”
“You won’t have to wait much longer,” we heard a man say.
We turned and saw that Boris was coming downstairs. As he came over and greeted us, I had to put a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. Nana’s new beau had developed an interest in rap music after his own recent makeover. He was calling himself J-Bo and was wearing a black shirt, lots of gold chains, and a backward baseball hat. The look would be fine—for a man half his age who didn’t resemble a werewolf.
“I have a favor to ask you,” Boris said. “This makeover...” He took a moment, drawing in a breath and releasing it slowly. “It didn’t go exactly as we’d hoped for. That’s why there’s been a period of seclusion.”
“Does she look like a freak?” Natalie asked, her hazel eyes growing wide. She glanced at us. “I’m just askin’, so we can prepare ourselves for the worst.”
“On the contrary...” A door closed somewhere upstairs. Boris glanced up and lowered his voice. “I have to be going, so I’ll let you judge for yourselves.”
After he was gone, Natalie
said, “I’ll bet she looks like some kinda zombie. I heard ‘bout a woman who had her face done and can’t even close her eyes now. Whatever happens, don’t let her bite you.”
“If she does look like a zombie, maybe we can put her on display for Halloween,” Mo said. She must have seen my disapproval. “All I’m saying is we should take advantage of a bad situation.”
I was cautioning them to be sensitive with their comments when we all looked up, seeing a shadowy figure coming down the stairway. I then realized it was a woman, dressed in black and wearing a dark veil.
“She really is a zombie,” Natalie said, staring at the figure coming toward us.
“Or worse,” Mo said. “Maybe she’s turned into some kinda psycho and is carrying a knife.”
“I’ve got pepper spray.”
“Sshh,” I said as the woman in black, who I was now sure was Nana, came downstairs and walked toward us. Natalie was standing behind me now, maybe hoping I’d take the bite if Nana really was a zombie.
“I hope you’re ready for this,” Nana said, stopping a few feet in front of us.
“At least your voice is still the same,” Natalie said. “You might be a zombie, but you still sound like the old Nana.”
“How bad is it?” Mo asked, trying to see through Nana’s veil. “Do we need Kate to go into the kitchen and get us all barf bags?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nana said. She turned to me with her veil still in place. “You really should give Dr. Theodore a try, maybe he can do something with those prunes you call tits.”
I suddenly lost all empathy for her. “Okay, enough with the suspense. Let’s see the result.”
“You asked for it.” Nana said, reaching up and removing her veil with a flourish before also removing her black sweater.
The gasps in the room were audible, including mine.
“I don’t believe it,” Natalie said.
“What the hell?” Mo said, her eyes wide and her mouth falling open.
“You don’t...even look...like yourself,” I said, realizing that maybe I was the most tactless one in the room.
