by CC Dragon
“I don’t want to see him and I’m not worried he’ll come back anymore. I always worried about that on your birthdays and holidays when you girls were little. I never wanted the phone to ring or there to be a knock at the door.” She shuddered.
There was a question she wouldn’t ask. “He’s never contacted me.”
“You’re having him watched?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Todd found out as soon as he was in the FBI. He’s kept tabs on him. So we know he’s not crazy, not a felon, and not in jail.”
“What if he came to see Sonia? Wanted money? I always assumed you had someone tailing him.” Mom zigzagged her hand like it was a rat in a maze.
I chuckled. If I had that kind of money I wouldn’t need a job. “Nothing that elaborate, just Todd. If Dad moves he’ll be watched via credit card activity and airline data. His name is on lists. If he were arrested, hospitalized or dead—I’d find out. If he moved to Arizona or California I’d know. It’s hard to be off the grid these days.”
Legally I couldn’t remove him from California or Arizona but the FBI’s powers of intimidation were impressive. If Dad entered Nevada Todd would be right behind him. I’d like to see that since Todd worked out a lot.
“I miss Todd,” Mom smiled. “He’s still in Chicago?”
“Yeah, I actually just talked to him. He’s using some FBI resources to help with Danny and Sonia’s case.” I liked being off the topic of Dad for a little bit; it was relaxing.
As long as we weren’t talking about me, which caused more anxiety, I was happy. I’d never been the center of attention in the family; all my life it was either my parent’s fighting or Sonia. I was good in the background.
“Any thoughts of you moving? Chicago is very nice and you grew up there.” Mom never let up.
“Now? You want to talk about me settling down now? Danny is dead and Sonia might be in danger. She might go off and find Dad. I’m not worried about my social life, Mom.”
“You never are, letting a good man go. I think I screwed you up on men.” She finished off her drink and went for more.
She blamed herself for that? Interesting development. “No, Mom, I like men. I loved Todd. As for not being overly trusting of men, Dad did that. I’m not interested in settling down. It didn’t work with Todd and it won’t work with anyone else. Marriage and family are good for Sonia, but it’s not me. Don’t worry about me. Sonia needs you now.”
Mom nodded. “I know you never needed me. I knew the first time you yelled at your father to stop hitting me. You even tried to pull him off, and I knew then you’d be stronger than me. I just don’t know how to help Sonia through this.”
“Yes, you do. You’ve planned plenty of funerals. Let me worry about the murderer and stalker while you two take care of Danny. Just be sensitive to his parents.” I moved to the bar and gave her a hug.
She rested her head against mine. “What do I tell your sister?”
I took a deep breath and the last swig of rum out of the bottle.
“Helena Nicola Morris.” Mom took the empty bottle and put it in the trash.
I smiled, having broken the tension in my way. “You don’t have to tell her all the ugly details. Just tell her he hit you like he did me and you were scared to leave and scared to stay. Stuck. Having her was the best thing that happened to any of us because he didn’t want to pay for two kids and so he left.” That’s what I’d wanted to tell her but it wasn’t my place.
“That’s a whitewash.” Mom added a splash of whiskey to her glass and drank it straight. “Plus Sonia will still think he wanted you and not her.”
“She might think that but hitting isn’t wanting. Don’t let him make you lie for his sorry ass anymore.”
Indeed, that version glossed over the reality. Beatings more accurately described what Mom endured. Power and anger raged in Dad. Odds were he was abused as a kid; it was not an excuse but my personal guess. After Dad left we never saw his side of the family again. I took my hate for him out in my martial arts.
Most people played the victim because it was easier. Beaten down, lost opportunities, or they just wanted it easier like it seemed others had it...everyone could play the victim. I went the other way—bitch, crazy, or lethal. I’d been called it all—all except a victim.
I saw Lou and Ricky talking through the front window. They were back with the suit. What welcome distractions!
“Now isn’t the time. You’re right, I should focus on Sonia.” Mom went to work.
Denial and guilt were powerful but they got pushed down in favor of reality.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was too sunny out for a funeral. I walked back as they lowered the casket into the ground. Danny’s parents wanted him cremated so they could have some of his ashes but there was no evidence Danny wanted cremation over burial. Another minor conflict in the drama of death. Worse still the tabloid activity ramped up around the house, the set, and even at the soap opera.
My sister remained at the gravesite, watching them lower the coffin. Mom and Lou stood by holding her. I scanned the crowd. Faith was there as well, crying and looking very alone. She’d called the house a few times and Sonia refused to talk to her. I’d explained the situation and declined to let her speak to Sonia. Faith wasn’t pleased to be the other woman but legally she had no recourse.
Thanks to my connections I already knew Danny had no will. Not that my sister scored any big gain money-wise. Danny had little savings and his only asset was the Hummer. To the outside world Sonia gained by not having to pay out on the divorce. Being a widow also got her attention; she was all over television and they constantly mentioned the new show.
Ricky nodded to me and I walked over. Sonia remained the primary suspect so cops were always around.
“I talked to Danny’s parents yesterday.” He pulled out his notebook.
“And?”
“And Danny owed money from gambling. No names, so it’ll take some snooping to get find out.”
“Bad luck all around.” Danny never went too far into one vice. Some drinking, some gambling, and he’d gotten in over his head.
“Pretty much. We’ll see if we can find out who he owed. Once they found out he was off the show and his wife was divorcing him, his credit limit might’ve shrunk.”
“This wasn’t done by gamblers, hit men, or anyone paid to do the job. The MO is all wrong.” I dismissed it.
“I agree but we need to check it out. They’re a lot more likely to order something than your sister so it’s keeping the heat off that theory for now,” Ricky said.
I sighed. “I can’t believe she’s still a viable suspect to them.”
“They think she might’ve requested a vicious attack to cover it up or so he suffered. He basically bled to death fast. Or she snuck off the set and did it.”
“She wouldn’t do that to him. She wouldn’t know how to do that.” I looked over and saw that they’d begun filling in the grave.
“You would.” Ricky told me without telling me I was suspected as an accomplice.
“I can’t help their theories.” I froze when I recognized a man not twenty feet from me. I grabbed Ricky’s elbow.
He moved closer. “What’s wrong?”
“That guy is the same one from the street that day. That’s Brian Conners.” Todd ran his background for me after I had given him the photo from my phone and his tag number. No record but the driver’s license photo matched. “What’s he doing here?”
I marched over to him, my stomach knotting as rage filled me. This could be the killer. But what was his connection with all this?
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Helena Morris. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. My father is buried here as well. I took it as a sign.” Brian set a bouquet of flowers before a headstone.
“A sign? For what?”
Being addressed by my first name by a stranger threw me off for a minute. Sonia told me many times people acted like th
ey owned you when you were famous. They sat down at a table with her or followed her into the bathroom. Lucky for Brian, I felt Ricky walk up behind me.
“Sir, this is a private funeral.”
“I have family here, they said the cemetery was open.” Brian turned to me. “And I knew Danny so I wanted to pay my respects.”
Too many excuses. “Which is it? You’re here for Danny or your father? Or to get pictures?”
“I don’t have a camera. You can search me.” He put his hands in the air. “I don’t want to disturb your funeral.”
“Too late.” I looked at Ricky. “Why didn’t he get stopped?”
“He has family in the cemetery. We can’t take over the entire place,” Ricky shrugged.
Brian took a step closer. “I’m very sorry if I bothered you. I didn’t mean to upset things—I knew Danny too.”
“Why were you watching me in the restaurant last week?” I demanded and made a mental note to check out how Brian knew Danny. Every fan who got an autograph made that claim.
Brian blushed. “I’d seen you on the websites. I couldn’t believe it was you. I’m a fan of your sister and Danny. I don’t mean to stare.”
“Someone is out to hurt my sister—probably the same person who killed Danny. Do you really think skulking around a cemetery during his funeral is smart?” I couldn’t figure out this guy. Did he want to be caught or was it a warning?
Brian turned back to his father’s grave and dusted off the headstone. “I wanted to make sure the mass of people didn’t trample my father’s resting place and to pay my respects to Danny and my father. If you want me to leave I will simply return later. I’m not here to hurt anyone.”
He turned and headed back to his car before we could say anything more. So calm and so seemingly normal.
I felt my face burning. “Search him.”
“No, Hel, we’re not doing that. I’ll put a guy on him to watch him and be sure he doesn’t try to crash the after funeral event or do anything to the gravesite.”
“He’s here for a reason.” I swallowed hard. “You can question him.”
“We already have and we’ve got nothing. We’ll watch him. Danny is not Michael Jackson, Hel—we can’t shut down the whole city for his funeral.”
I nodded. “Thanks.” Ricky was right. Still that guy set off my creep radar so badly I wanted to figure out why.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A far cry from the rock star display, the same mansion was now somberly decked out in dark greens and black. The weird sense of déjà vu hit when I noticed the same bartender who’d given me a makeshift ice pack when I elbowed the rock star on my last visit to the residence. He now stood at the same post to serve mourners.
The food was laid out everywhere, a buffet feast that had prime rib, filet, chicken Kiev, lobster, and salmon. I swear I smelled corned beef and cabbage but it had to be my imagination. The spread was bigger than at any wedding I had attended with sides of every kind and waiters circulating with caviar and other appetizers.
“What’s up on the landing?” Sonia pointed to a few people clustered up there.
“Let’s go see.” Mom and Lou lead her upstairs.
“Hey,” Jordan said as I was left alone in the crowd of mourners.
He was decked out in all black and showing neither ankle nor midriff, although he did have black nail polish and a neckerchief instead of a tie. He looked very James Bond and anywhere else it would be over the top and rude. But at a funeral in L.A. he fit right in.
I got a hug. “Thanks for coming and finding me a dress,” I said.
“What are friends for?” He glanced up at the stairs. “How’s she doing?”
“Okay for now. The doctor gave her something to help her function.”
“Don’t knock good meds as long as she doesn’t stay on them. She really has been distraught. I’m getting texts and phone calls at two in the morning.”
“I know, but she needs to eat. Before she was stress eating and drinking but the medication has killed her appetite. Can you get her to consume something? Sonia says Mom, Lou, and I are suffocating her.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he nodded.
I shook my head and added, “Not Hollywood eat—real people eat. Carbs too. Bread, potatoes, and protein.”
I was so my mother’s daughter at times. Food didn’t cure everything but it didn’t hurt when nothing else fixed the problem. Right now losing myself in ice cream sounded good but I had to keep my eyes open.
“I talk actors into a lot of things, don’t worry.” He went off in search of my sister.
Taking a deep breath I joined the mourners wandering around the food.
What I found on the way was Sam. “Hi, I can’t thank you enough for this.”
He hugged me a little longer than I expected but Sam always smelled good so I didn’t mind. His strong arms felt good. It was odd to see him in an expensive suit and tie. On the set he was in jeans and T-shirt, which made me feel normal.
Finally he let go. “I’m happy to host—you should thank my sister. She’s the hostess in the family. Every event I ever needed to throw was either a wife’s birthday party or something for work. By then the wife was an ex-wife, so Harriet always stepped in to help.”
“I don’t think I met her the day of the band’s performance. With a rock star grabbing me and trying to keep my eye on Sonia. I didn’t have much of a chance to circulate.”
“That was a drama, plus she had to deal with some guys peeing in the fountain. Then some girls were camped out in rooms naked trying to wait for the band. I tried to help but the show had to go on. I’ll introduce you. She’s actually Sonia’s agent—-a real ball buster.” He headed back to the kitchen.
I followed and instantly knew Harriet from everyone else. She was dressed in a black tea-length dress, black pumps and had a Bluetooth in her ear while barking at the staff. Dark blonde hair in a blunt bob cut that was straight as a pin and moved only when she did. She belonged in New York.
She tapped the ear bud, gave her brother a hug, and turned to me. “It’s you, the Hollywood Ninja.” Harriet hugged me too.
I patted her back briefly and cursed that Queen Bees website. “I’m not a ninja, just Helena Morris.”
She waved it off. “I know. But it’s such a cute nickname—use it. Image sells.”
Subject change please. “I don’t need an image. I’m not selling anything. Thanks for doing all of this work.”
“This? It’s nothing, I’m happy to help. Go away Sam, we’re talking.”
Sam went and Harriet grabbed my arm. “Now do you know who did it yet?” she asked.
Usually I only gossiped with people I knew better but as Sonia’s agent, Harriet’s concern made sense. “The police are working on it,” I said.
“Don’t think I’m one of those crazy people who gossips and shares because I’m not. I need to look out for Sonia.”
“That’s good.” I half believed her.
“You’ll solve this.” Something chirped and she held up a finger.
Harriet reminded me of Streisand crossed with Fran Drescher. This woman never met a stranger and barely seemed to stop for breath but oozed class. Sonia picked a good agent.
When Harriet’s call was over I said, “I’m just here for my sister. The food looks delicious.”
“Naturally. I know it’s for mourning but Danny was Irish. I followed the theme and we only ordered the best. Not that many people actually eat,” she shrugged.
I stepped in closer. “I have a question and it might be awkward but I need the truth. You’re a new agent for Sonia. Did you represent Danny?” I asked.
Harriet shook her head. “No. Before me Sonia was with Myra Andrews. Danny stuck with her. She’s nice and good.”
“Not a shark?” I asked.
“She handled a lot of soap actors. Some moved up, some made it a career, and some fizzled into B rate movies and so on. She’s a starter agent. Over there in the black dress. Curly
black hair.” Harriet nodded.
I followed her eyes and spotted the middle aged matron. Pencil thin, flat chested, and tall. “She reps the girlfriend too?”
“Faith? Sure. Extra material, really. So many kids come here and believe they’ll be a star. Pretty and fit isn’t enough. They need a hook and spark. Hell, I can get character actors more work. You’d be a great soccer mom turned spy. Or maybe district attorney,” Harriet said.
“I’m sure that’s a compliment,” I smiled.
“It is. Different is a bigger draw than the same old pretty face.”
As I watched Myra a tall man walked up to her and put an arm around her shoulders. The woman broke down in tears.
“Is that her husband?” I asked. Danny mentioned he’d been renting the house from his agent and her hubby.
“Sure. Norm. He’s done well. When the property values tanked he bought up a bunch of foreclosures and remodeled them. He rents a bunch and sold several. But he spends money just as fast.”
“Drugs? Women?” I asked.
“Not drugs,” Harriet smiled. “Why?”
I shrugged. “No reason. Just finding out about the people around Danny.”
“You think it’s connected to whoever is stalking your sister? I agree it’s possible. Myra might be good to talk to. Now is it true you’re a black belt?”
Her topic hopping threw me off balance. “It’s a job and good exercise.”
“Jordan said you might do classes. I want in.” She wagged a long fingernail at me.
“I’m not really set up for classes. I’ve done tech consulting while I’m here and then I’ll be back in Vegas once this is all settled.”
“Oh please, you must to stay. Do you have any idea how popular you are? I had all three of the Queen Bees begging to get on the guest list for this funeral. I had to keep it to the one I’ve known since childhood or it’d look tacky.”
“One of them is here?” I stopped short and looked Harriet in the eye. “I’d like to meet them.”
“Wait, you’re not going to go all Bruce Lee on him. I know it’s a gossip website and it’s upsetting, but this one is different. It’s all true. The title Hollywood Ninja—okay, that’s just fun. All the pics are real and he’s a huge fan of yours. Why go off on Keith?”