“Who was that?” Drake asked.
“Stuart and CeeCee Washington. They weren’t around until later.”
“Did they know Miss Bloom was home alone tonight?”
“I don’t know, but—”
“No buts, son. The pizza box—did you recognize the printing—the address, your name?”
Tyler shook his head. “Nothing distinctive,” he said sliding the paper back to Drake.
“There’s a name you didn’t include.”
“Who?”
“The ABC Rental guy—”
“Why him? He didn’t know Star.”
“I questioned him. You know, he was the one who bumped into Roth. Almost knocked him over. As it happened the lad was carrying a cupcake—the cupcake laced with arsenic. He told me someone told him to take it, his words, ‘to that blonde.’ If that’s true, then Roth wasn’t the target.”
“There were several blondes—Star and Suzie to name two. Did he say who gave him the cupcake,” Tyler asked.
“No. Happened fast he said. He didn’t look—not sure if it was a man or a woman. Umm, that’s not right. He said it was a woman’s voice.”
Chapter 44
HURRYING DOWN THE EMPTY sterile hallway to the ICU everything seemed the same as thirty minutes ago yet he wished he hadn’t left her. His eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness as he stepped beside Star’s bed. Looking down at her he was overwhelmed with his love. She was truly his soul mate in every respect. He wouldn’t let his mind wander to the unthinkable—life without her.
Picking up her hand, he kissed the open palm.
Wait.
What was that?
Did her thumb move ever so slowly over his scruffy chin?
Her eyelids fluttered but remained closed. If he hadn’t been looking he wouldn’t have witnessed the beginning of a miracle.
There…again, the lids fluttered.
Gradually her eyes opened…gazed into his.
A hint of a smile, then more.
“Baby, it’s me. I love you. Here’s my hand. Squeeze if you hear me,” he whispered.
The pressure was weak but to Tyler the earth shook.
“Don’t move. Of course you won’t move. I’ll get the nurse. You’ll be doing cartwheels on the beach before you know it.” His words ran together as he laid her hand on the sheet then scrambled to the nurse’s station.
“She’s awake. Please help. She’s awake. Hurry. Please, please make sure she’s okay,” he said then ran back to bed #3 the nurse following close behind.
The nurse checked Star’s vitals—pulse strong, heartbeat strong, the grasp of Star’s hand with the nurse’s was strong.
“You’re in the hospital, Miss Bloom. The doctor will be in soon. He’ll have the results of your latest tests, but I think you’re going to be fine. Do you know who this young man is?” the nurse asked looking across the bed at Tyler. A tear running down his cheek splashed on Star’s hand he was holding to his cheek.
“He’s Tyler Jackman, my soul mate.” Her words were soft, slow, but there was no doubt she knew who he was—her soul mate.
“That’s right,” the nurse said with a smile. “Now you rest, sleep if you can. You’ve been through a tough few hours but they’re behind you.”
The nurse patted her hand and left.
- - -
Two hours later the doctor strode in to check on his patient. Tyler was lying next to Star on a sliver of the bed. They were holding hands, both sound asleep, a soft snore escaping Tyler’s open mouth.
Tyler sensed the doctor’s presence and slithered to a standing position with a goofy look on his face.
“It’s okay, son. You both needed the rest.” The doctor had a bit of a smile on his face.
Star had a smile on her face as well.
Why was everyone calling him son? Tyler thought. Maybe I need to grow more facial hair.
“The tests?” Tyler said.
“Results are good. I want Miss Bloom to stay today but if she recovers as quickly as I think she will, she’ll be able to go home tomorrow, for sure the next day,” he said looking from Tyler to Star. “You’re a lucky girl, Star. You acted quickly calling for help.”
“What happened. I remember drinking a strawberry martini…that’s all I remember...oh, I called Tyler.” Her words started as a whisper but grew stronger as she said each one.
“Babe, I lost my phone. I got home and you weren’t there. I didn’t know where you were. I called Detective Drake. He found you here…the Hollywood Medical Center Hospital.” He knew he was babbling, but he didn’t care. The doctor said she was going to be fine.
A knot constricted in his stomach. Who poisoned his beautiful blue-eyed angel?
Chapter 45
WITHIN THE HOUR STAR was transferred out of the ICU to a bed on the next floor. Tyler knew this was a real sign that Star was gaining ground. The Hollywood PD officer moved as well and was now sitting outside of the room’s door. Attendants rolled a cart down the hall picking up breakfast trays. Star was propped up in bed. Tyler handed her a glass of ice water with a straw as Drake shuffled in the room a lock of silver hair grazing his right eyebrow.
“Well, well, Miss Bloom. You’re looking mighty fine. What did I tell you, Mr. Jackman?”
“That Miss Bloom is a strong young woman?”
“Yes, yes. Miss Bloom, I need your help.”
“How can I help, Detective?”
“I’m hoping you can identify the person who delivered the pizza and the strawberry drink to you. Can you describe him or her?”
“Umm.” Star closed her eyes. “Medium height, young man, boyish, in a hurry. I asked him to wait while I got him a tip, but he was gone when I came back to the door. Could have been less than a minute.” Her eyes shot open. “How’s that, Detective,” she said glancing at Tyler with a proud-of-herself nod.
“Fine, fine. But there must be thousands who fit that description in Hollywood,” the detective said with a chuckle. “Let’s take a stab at what you see in your mind’s eye. I have a lineup of pictures on my cell. Here, you take it. Scroll through. Tell me if you see the young man or someone who is similar. Okay?”
Drake set his cell up as a lure. When he asked someone to identify a picture, he always added other random people he had questioned in different cases hoping to trigger a look-alike clue.
“Sure.” Star held the cell, her finger stroking the display, images one by one filling the screen. “This one…this one is familiar…but I’m not sure.”
Drake took a look as she held up his cell showing him the image.
Star had fingered Jimmy Spider.
Chapter 46
PIZZAS GALORE WAS OPENING for the lunch crowd when Detective Drake shuffled in. He looked up at the various toppings listed high above the counter then down at a girl tying her bib apron in the back of her shirt as she spoke to him. The bib was stenciled—Pizzas Galore, Julie.
“Hi, mister, what toppings suit you for lunch today? Cheese with—”
“Ah, nothing, miss,” Drake said flashing his badge. “But I would like your help. By any chance were you working last Thursday night?”
“No, sir. I work the eleven to three lunch shift.”
“I see, I see. Who works the night shift? Eight o’clock…Thursday?”
“That would be Doris. But you’re in luck. She just popped in to see the boss.” The girl leaned in with a big smile. “The boss is her husband,” she whispered.
“Oh, I see,” Drake said nodding. “Could you tell her I’d like to talk to her? I’ll be over at that table in the corner.”
Waiting, Drake brought the line-up on his cell as a woman dressed in a pantsuit and sneakers walked up to the table.
“Hi. Julie said you’d like to talk to me? You’re a detective?” Doris said.
Drake stood, nodded, again showing his badge and with a slight wave of his hand suggesting they sit.
“Yes. My name is Detective Drake and I’m working a case.”
“I do hope you don’t think of our shop as something that has to be investigated. We run—”
“No, no, ah, Doris. Just a few questions. Is this pizza box yours?” Drake turned his cell so Doris could see the image.
“Yes, Detective. But you already know that’s our box. Pizzas Galore in big red letters, but rarely do we write anything on the top.”
“Can I trouble you to scan through these pictures? Do you recognize anyone?” Drake started his line-up and then put his cell in her hands.
Doris engaged her index finger to do the walking through the pictures. At the end she handed the cell back to Drake. “No, I don’t recognize anyone.”
“Think back to last Thursday. Anyone come to mind? One of the pictures? A mannerism—fidgety?”
“Detective, any evening in this place is lined up with people fidgety to get their pizzas and then skedaddle. I doubt I’d recognize my own mother. Some drop by, some call ahead, but they’re all in a hurry and—”
“Yes, yes, call ahead, place an order. You must take a name? Jackman…on the box?”
Doris laughed. “You’d be surprised at the names—Romeo, Angel face—”
“Jackman, Doris. Can you check your records last Thursday, around eight o’clock?”
“Well, we do ask for a credit card. Let me check. It will take a few minutes. Can I get you something—a pizza perhaps?” Doris said with a chuckle.
“No, no,” Drake said patting his stomach. “The missus has me on a diet. But maybe next week, and Doris, while you’re looking please add a Mr. Spider.”
Doris shot him a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look and disappeared behind the counter.
His mind whirling, Drake called the precinct and asked to speak to one of the officers he’d worked with on several cases. Wilson came on the line remarking that he only heard from his old friend when he wanted something. Drake ignored the dig and explained he had a situation on the Star Bloom case and needed his help.
Doris returned shaking her head as she approached. “Sorry, detective. Nobody called in an order by the name of Jackman or for a Jackman. Same for Spider. I have to run. I’m holding you to pizza next week. You can eat here—the missus will never know, or what the heck, bring her in too.”
Drake smiled, thanked Doris, and returned to his car. Settling behind the wheel, he called his old buddy again and asked him to bring in three persons of interest. He added that he’d appreciate him staying in the interview room to play their good cop, bad cop routine. The three people were Paul Templeton, Suzie Savage, and Jimmy Spider. He had no clue if they had a motive for perpetrating such a heinous crime on Star Bloom and Vincent Roth, but they acted fidgety, or overly interested in what he was saying, or were in a hurry to leave when he questioned them. Savage could want revenge on Roth for not giving her Star’s role in the reality television show. Spider served up the cupcake to Roth. Nothing pointed to Templeton but maybe he overheard something, a rumor. All three may know something and just needed a little incentive to talk.
“Bring them in separately and hold them in different interview rooms. Thanks, Wilson. I owe you one,” Drake said.
“Yah, yah. But you never pay up,” Wilson said with a chuckle.
Chapter 47
THE AIR CONDITIONER WAS on the fritz leaving stale humid air in the Hollywood Precinct’s concrete block, windowless interview rooms. #1 was no better than #2 or #3. Suzie Savage tried to make the best of it hiking her flowered dress above her knees. She mopped her forehead with a paper towel that Detective Drake tore from the roll. Officer Wilson tinkered with the oscillating table fan in the corner so the three of them received a puff of air as it swept back and forth with a low hum.
“Miss Savage—”
“Excuse me, Detective, Savage is my stage name. My real name, legal like, is Sullivan. I thought Savage gave me a certain edge. Also, Detective, why am I here? The kind officer said that you would explain. Of course, anything I can do to help I certainly will, but—”
“You’re a person of interest, Miss Savage, in the death of Vincent Roth and the attempted murder of Star Bloom.” The detective let his words hang in the air.
Suzie’s eyes popped wide. “Person of interest?”
“That’s right. Where were you last Thursday night around eight o’clock?”
“You’ve got to be joking, Detective. Attempted murder? Star? I admit I was miffed, more than miffed, angry when Vincent gave my role to Star, but—”
“Were you and Vincent…friendly?” Wilson asked.
Suzie shot him a snippy look, a look that softened as her fingers on her right hand inched the flowered dress a notch higher. “I’m friendly with everyone at Burnett Media, officer. I mean a girl never knows who’s going to give her a big break,” she said looking down demurely while mopping her brow.
“Last Thursday, Miss Savage. Eight o’clock. Where were you?” Drake said.
“Well, let me think…oh yes, I was watching a detective show. I bet you’d like it. CIA-LA,” Suzie said with a grin.
“Ever place an order with Pizzas Galore?” Drake said.
“Never heard of it. Are their pizzas yummy?”
“Can anyone corroborate your story…stayed home watching TV?” Wilson said with a warm smile.
“Yes, Tina. We’re roommates.”
Wilson slid a piece of paper across the table along with a pen. “I’d appreciate Tina’s cell number and last name, Suzie,” the officer said.
“Certainly, officer.” Suzie wrote Tina’s name and number on the paper and laid the pen down. “If that’s it, can I leave? It’s very hot in here and Mr. Burnett wasn’t happy when you said I was needed in an investigation.”
“Yes, that’s all. A sergeant will take you back to work, but don’t leave town. Come on I’ll show you out,” Drake said nodding to Wilson. Drake closed the door to Interview #1 as he and Suzie walked out and down the hall to her ride.
Wilson immediately dialed Tina’s cell number. He made a note on the paper with her name that Tina was watching a detective show on television with Suzie last Thursday and gave him the name of the show—CIA LA.
- - -
Paul Templeton sat in Interview #2, his face a few inches from the fan. His scowl spoke volumes that he was not happy. As an hourly cameraman he was wasting valuable time and losing money, to say nothing about losing the job altogether when the director called in a substitute, a permanent substitute. When Detective Drake informed him he was on the person-of-interest list in the case of Vincent Roth’s death and the attempted murder of Star Bloom, his first inclination was to laugh, but seconds later his instinct was to bolt out of the room. But he didn’t laugh and he didn’t bolt. Instead when Drake asked where he was last Thursday night. He’d not heard about Star’s escape from death. He was sorry to hear that but he was shooting a commercial that night in Las Vegas. Wilson corroborated his story right then and there in front of him. He was told he could leave the precinct but not town. If another out-of-town shoot came up, he should notify Officer Wilson in case the detective had more questions.
Chapter 48
JIMMY SPIDER WAS SMOKING weed out back of ABC Rental when two Hollywood PD officers strode in the front door. He’d seen their squad car pull into the parking lot. He smelled trouble but there was nothing he could do about it. A chain link fence bordered the back of the building with large gates that opened and closed when the front office pushed a button.
Spider took a long drag then flicked it into the bushes and strolled in to the display floor. He was on deck to unload a truck but it was late.
“Hey, Jimmy, this officer wants to talk to you,” the dispatcher said.
“Sure thing. What can I do for you, officer?” Jimmy asked, his sneakers rocking back and forth.
The officer addressed the dispatcher. “Mr. Spider may have some critical information about a case we’re working on. I’ve been asked to escort him to the precinct to be questioned. Not sure how long he’ll be.”
“W
hoa. That leaves us shorthanded. Make it quick.”
“Come on, Mr. Spider, let’s go.”
Outside, an officer opened the back door to the squad car, putting his hand on Jimmy’s head so he didn’t whack it. The officer behind the wheel started the car as the second officer climbed in the passenger seat.
“What’s going on?” Jimmy shouted. “Are you arresting me? You can’t—”
“No, Mr. Spider, we’re not arresting you. Officer Wilson and Detective Drake just want to ask you some questions.”
“I’ve already been questioned by Detective Drake. I told him I know nothing.”
“Well, it shouldn’t take too long then. Sit back. Relax.”
- - -
The officers led Spider to Interview Room #3. He felt himself starting to hyperventilate. He wished he’d put the little pouch of white powder along with the weed in his pocket before he left his apartment this morning. He slumped down on the metal chair, jumped up, paced around, stood by the fan, sat again.
Drake and Wilson were watching through the one-way mirror.
“He’s jumpy, Drake. I’d say he has something on his mind,” Wilson said.
Drake led the way into the interview room. Wilson on his heels set a recording device in the center of the table and pushed the ON button.
“Hello, Mr. Spider,” Drake said. “Can we get you something to drink…water, coffee?”
“No,” Jimmy snapped. “I already talked to you. I told you I know nothing. Why am I here?”
“Yes, yes, the barbecue and Mr. Roth’s sudden death.”
“Sorry the guy croaked, but he walked right in front of me, cut me off. He didn’t have to eat that cupcake…like I told you.”
“Right. You were heading for a blonde, you said. Who was that, exactly?”
“How should I know?”
“You said…umm, let me refresh your memory. You told me that whoever pressed the bowl holding the cupcake into your hands said to take it to that blonde. Now that you’ve had time to think about it, do you have any new ideas about that blonde? I’m asking you, Jimmy, who was that blonde the person pointed to? After all this time, after all the newspaper and TV reports, do you now recognize the blonde? Before you answer, let me show you some shots that people took with their cell phones, and after looking at hundreds of those images, the only blonde in your path was that one. Do you know who she is?”
A Cupcake to Die For Page 12
