by M. Z. Kelly
“Does he have any friends who live close by?”
She chuckled. “My dad’s not big on small talk. The job is his life. So, to answer your question, no, there’s nobody that I know about.”
“Maybe he’s gone fishing to get away. I know that what happened in DC was pretty stressful for everyone.”
She nodded, her pale eyes holding on mine. “Can I ask you something personal?”
I hesitated, but said, “Of course.”
“Are you and my dad...are you in a relationship?”
“No. We’re just friends, but really close friends. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“Dad told me about some of your cases. I need to pick your brain about police work one of these days.”
“Are you still thinking about joining the FBI?”
“Dad told you about that?” I nodded. “Actually, I’m thinking about getting a law degree. I’d like to be a US attorney one of these days.”
I hoisted my drink, and we clinked glasses. “It’s another way to go after the bad guys, so good luck.”
“To great careers, and new friends,” she said.
***
A half hour later, as Michelle drove us to her father’s house, she told me about his property. “Dad actually lives by the Salt River. It’s about a half hour from the city.”
“Did he take you fishing there when you were younger?”
She glanced at me. “Dad and me...our relationship was...is complicated.”
I smiled. “I know all about those kinds of relationships.”
She went on. “When Mom and Dad divorced, Dad lost himself in his work. Our relationship suffered because of that.”
“He told me you two weren’t close for a while.”
She nodded. “It’s only been in the past couple years that we’ve reconnected.” A smile. “Sometimes age and maturity changes a person for the better. And I’m talking about both me and my father.”
I chuckled. “I’ve had my own issues with that.”
Joe’s house was a sprawling single-story that backed up to the river. It was cold, and rain was threatening, as Michelle rang his bell, and we waited on the porch.
When there was no answer, she looked at me. “I have a key. Do you think I should try it?”
“Why not? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
After unlocking the door and silencing the alarm, we called out, but didn’t get a response. We did a cursory look through the home, finding no sign of Joe. I was passing by a home office, behind Michelle, when something caught my eye.
“Can we check the office for a moment?” I said, stopping at the door.
She came back to me. “Of course. What is it?”
“Give me a sec,” I said, moving into the office.
I took a moment to glance at his desk, the photographs on the wall. Something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
“Anything?” Michelle asked, coming over to me.
My gaze moved to each of the photographs on the wall, studying them. There were pictures of Joe in his younger days, including one when he was sworn in as an FBI agent. There were also several photos of him fishing. I went over and took one of the framed photographs off the wall. It showed Joe holding a string of fish. There was a man standing next to him.
“Does he look familiar?” I asked, pointing out Joe’s companion.
Michelle took the photograph from me, taking a closer look. “Not really.” She studied it a moment longer, then gave it back. “Do you know who he is?”
I sighed and told a lie. “I’m not sure.”
“Maybe we should take a look in the back yard, then talk to the neighbors.”
I followed her into the yard, which was partially covered in snow. There was an old swing set near the fence. I started to ask Michelle about it, when my eyes held on something glistening on the snow, where the yard led down to the river.
My pulse raced as I got closer to what I’d seen. I quickly turned back to Michelle, not wanting her to see the bloody trail. “I’m going to just take a quick look down by the river. Why don’t you go back to the house? I’ll be right there.”
She did as I asked, while I followed a short trail leading down to the water’s edge. It was there, in a small clearing, near a rock that had probably been a place where Joe had gone fishing, that I realized what had happened to my friend. Joe was lying in the snow. There was blood everywhere.
As I went over to check on him, Pearl’s words about a maze that runs through the underworld came to mind. I realized that I was in Phaedrus’s world now, and, despite what the monster had said, it was a place filled with madness, devoid of the soul or the divine. The man I’d seen in the photograph in Joe’s home office was Isaac Caine.
I bent over, checking Joe’s wrist for a pulse, but finding none. A cry that felt like it had arisen from the depths of a lost world escaped from my lungs and shattered the frigid air. My mind split apart, drifting somewhere between reality and madness. Was Joe really dead? Had my best friend in the world been murdered by Phaedrus?
THE END
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MORE BY THIS AUTHOR:
The Hollywood Alphabet Series, with Detective Kate Sexton and her canine partner, Bernie:
•Hollywood Assassin
•Hollywood Blood
•Hollywood Crazy
•Hollywood Dirty
•Hollywood Enemy
•Hollywood Forbidden
•Hollywood Games
•Hollywood Homicide
•Hollywood Intrigue
•Hollywood Jury
•Hollywood Killer
•Hollywood Lust
•Hollywood Murder
•Hollywood Notorious
•Hollywood Outlaw
•Hollywood Prisoner
•Hollywood Quest
•Hollywood Rage
•Hollywood Scream
•Hollywood Taken
COMING SOON : Hollywood Vendetta
Copyright © 2018 by MZ Kelly
Published by Kingston Roads Press, L.L.C.
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