Helena Goes to Hollywood: A Helena Morris Mystery

by CC Dragon

  “There are men who’d pay a lot for that treatment. Maybe your new job should be a dominatrix.” He covered his crotch with his hands in case I decided he needed more attitude adjustment.

  “Violence isn’t hot. It’s a means to an end.”

  My cell chimed and I decided this conversation had grown boring and unproductive. The text message popped up from a blocked number.

  Someone is writing a tell-all about Danny and Sonia. Thought you should know!

  Damn right I should. But who was it? I replied but the text failed. I really hated games...

  Chapter Thirty-One

  On the drive home Sonia vented about Bernadette incessantly. Even after telling her it was Rob’s joke, she vilified Bernadette. I let her rant since something else had my attention. I changed lanes and watched the tinted out old model Cadillac that had been behind me.

  It didn’t immediately follow but within five minutes it had weaved two lanes to the right and then back over behind me, very casually. This driver knew how to tail someone. No doubt about it, we were being followed. I shifted over one lane to the right.

  “Know anyone who drives an old Caddy with dark tinted windows?” I asked.

  “What?” She looked at me like I was crazy.

  “Don’t turn around—use the visor mirror to check your make up. The car behind us, it’s been following us.” I didn’t want to panic her but Sonia needed to know it wasn’t all a joke.

  “Following us?” Her hands shook as she followed my instructions, touching up her lipstick as she got a look at the car.

  “No, I’ve never seen it before. That tinting can’t be legal because I wanted mine tinted more and they said it was as dark as the law allowed,” she pouted.

  “Legal only matters if you get caught, like my gun. Okay, if you don’t know him then let’s lose him.” I shifted over to the right again and took the next exit without racing. I didn’t want to tip the dark car that I knew I was being followed.

  This exit took me near Emmy’s and since I didn’t know L.A. well, being in familiar territory was a good start. I picked up my speed and cornered a few turns fast enough to make my sister clutch her seatbelt.

  “Relax,” I said.

  “Can’t you slow down?”

  They were still behind me. “Nope, they’re following. There’s too much traffic here.”

  She pointed to a street. “That’ll get you back to the freeway. No stop lights or signs—it’s a feeder ramp.”

  I took it and floored the gas pedal. After less than a mile I knew why I was alone. The construction signs told me the merge was closed. I looked behind me to find the dark car back in the distance. They’d angled to block the two lane road. “Not good.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know there was construction.” Sonia’s voice shook.

  “Not your fault.” I turned around and assessed my options. Concrete walls on either side, no way out there. No other ramps or off streets so it was either go through them or something a lot worse.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Chicken,” I smiled.

  “I’m not letting you do this! This is crazy!” She grabbed her phone and started dialing 911.

  “No.” I grabbed her phone. “Not now—they’ll be gone the second they hear sirens and we’ll have gained nothing. I’ve got the plate memorized. It’s probably stolen but we’ll deal with that part later.”

  “So how do you think we’re getting out of this?” Sonia shook her head at me.

  “A game of chicken and I always win.”

  “You really are totally crazy—that car is bigger than yours. We’ll get kidnapped and end up on the news!”

  “But my car is old and I don’t care if it gets demolished. I bet they don’t want to lose their ride.”

  “So even if they do move, they’ll still follow us home. Run us off the road. Who knows?” Sonia’s voice tightened in terror.

  “No, they won’t.” I pulled my gun from the holster and set it between my legs.

  “Guns and car chases? Hel, this is way too action movie crazy.” Sonia started to hyperventilate. “This is real! I don’t have a script.”

  “That’s life.” I released her seatbelt. “Get on the floor just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” she asked.

  I didn’t want to say just in case they had guns. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She didn’t argue and pushed the passenger seat back as far as it would go. Then she smashed her tiny body into the open area with her head and shoulders still on the seat.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  She nodded and closed her eyes.

  I floored the sports car and it revved to life. I didn’t let up, angling for their back end which was lighter without the engine. The more ground I covered the more speed and force I had on my side.

  “How can you be so calm?” Sonia asked.

  “The key to a game of chicken is no fear.” The Academy taught defensive and aggressive driving. Showing no weakness was the key. My ex loved it and taught me a few tricks when there were rashes of road rage incidents and car-jackings around DC. I’d taken defensive driving courses as well. You had to intimidate the opponent. Most of the time it was about wills, not skills.

  I didn’t let up on the gas pedal. Closer and faster, I saw the Caddy inch. I didn’t falter in my trajectory. At twenty feet I stared into the driver’s seat. I could see nothing but that wasn’t the point. I’d demonstrated my intent. I clutched the wheel and stuck with it.

  Three seconds later the Caddy shot out of my way. It moved up the ramp a few yards and stopped. Sonia was probably right, they’d try to follow.

  I jerked the wheel left and hit the brakes so now my car took the up space, dominating both lanes and blocking them in. Grabbing my gun with my right hand, I aimed quickly and took out their back two tires before they could speed away.

  Without waiting to see the reaction, I floored it out onto the main streets where I tried my best to drive normally. They didn’t return fire. They couldn’t pursue us without killing the rims and I wasn’t sure what to think. Was that the killer looking to finish us both off? Aggressive paparazzi that’d just ruined the seats of their Caddy and probably got good photos of me shooting at them? The amount of adrenaline pounding through me made me itch for more.

  “You okay?” I asked Sonia.

  “Yeah.” She sat up slowly and put on her seatbelt. “That was insane.”

  “But they won’t follow us with two flat tires and those spinner rims aren’t cheap.” I found an In and Out Burger and pulled in the drive-thru.

  Sonia crossed her arms. “I’m not eating that stuff. It’ll kill me.”

  “So could the guys in the black Caddy. I’m eating.” I ordered a double cheeseburger, huge fries, and the biggest chocolate shake they had. It wasn’t just about the food. If the guys in the Caddy were crazy enough to come after me, they’d be looking on the street or expecting me to head back to the mansion fast or go straight to the cops—not go for fast food.

  As I drove home I ate some fries and caught Sonia stealing a few as well.

  “It’s not fair,” she said.

  “Life isn’t fair. Are you referring to something specific?” I asked.

  “Maybe Danny had a stalker or the murderer is after me. Why? We never did anything to anyone.”

  “The stalker might be considered a downside of your job. The fame comes with consequences. Worry more about the killer right now. I think it’s the same person.” That was pure gut feeling talking but maybe it’d make her feel better.

  She took more fries. “And I don’t care what that Queen Bees website says. You shouldn’t be the Hollywood Ninja or a PI—it’s dangerous too.”

  “I’m not looking for that sort of work. It’s just glitz and flash for their pictures and publicity, nothing real about it. You’re enough excitement in California.”

  I grabbed some fries before they were all gone and took the
exit that’d get me back to her mansion in Brentwood. I didn’t see the Caddy on the road. Maybe I’d won for today.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Apparently no one had reported my shots fired on a car. Then again, the area had been mostly deserted. The next morning I called Ricky and asked him to come over.

  Ever prompt, Ricky sipped coffee at the kitchen table as I finished off an orange and some yogurt.

  “You shot out the back tires?” he asked without shock or amusement.

  I tossed my empty yogurt cup and orange peel. “He followed us and blocked me on some dead end construction ramp. It was either disable them or who knows what sort of dangerous L.A. car chase I’d be in.”

  He grinned. “You’d win.”

  “Yeah, but I could’ve hurt innocent people in the process. I’m not interested in being on television, but I would be more entertaining than OJ’s run. This way no one got hurt except a couple of tires. If it’s the tabloids, they can bill me.” I knew what I wanted to do. I just needed Ricky to back me up with Sonia. “Can you babysit her today? I need to go visit someone.”

  Ricky leaned back and looked me. “Doesn’t sound like a social call. Where are you going?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “I want to talk to that creepy Brian the poet guy.”

  “Why? LAPD and the FBI ran him through every computer. The cops already paid him a visit and nothing. Nothing in his letters to Sonia sounded threatening. Danny spoke at this guy’s romantic literature class. The guy had no motive, he’s just a zealous fan. Danny had a picture of the two of them with his college class. That’s all we found.”

  “He’s a rabid fan. He’s all over the blogs and sites and loops and he writes fan fic. He’s over the normal line for me.” I couldn’t shake that bad feeling.

  I’d been up half the night with the leftover adrenaline so I’d done plenty of my own online research. There were many angry fans but Brian was the only one I knew who had made contact with Danny and Sonia at more than a random event.

  “What’s fan fic?” Ricky asked.

  “These original stories using someone else’s characters. He’s continuing my sister and Danny’s story as a soap couple. Plus he came to Danny’s funeral. Not weird enough yet?” I asked.

  “Creepy about the stories but he had Danny talk to his class. Romance is dying. Soaps kept the drama and romance alive and all that crap. He’s a college prof—it’s his thing. The funeral was odd. I don’t know if he and Danny were good friends but paying your respects isn’t a crime. He didn’t protest or disrupt Danny’s funeral or the cops would’ve arrested him. I can go talk to him if you want,” he offered.

  It was my hunch, not LAPD worthy. “No, I’m going to talk to him—less official. You stick with Sonia.”

  “Sorry, it’s an active case. I trust you, Hel, but I need to be there. We’re not going to let this go on. If he’s involved you could spook him and blow our chance at hard evidence. The killer isn’t getting away.” He opened his cell phone and texted someone.

  “There’s no hard evidence that he’s a threat. You just said so.” I felt for my gun unconsciously. It was covered up by my shirt but it was there.

  “I know, but until it’s solved we’re keeping an eye on everyone. If this is a big lead, what can you do about it? I can’t use your interrogation. No, Nancy Drew, it’s a murder investigation. I’ve got an off duty officer on the way to stick with your sister today. He owes me a favor.”

  Arguing was useless because Ricky was right. Plus, if Brian did anything or said anything suspicious enough, Ricky could arrest him while I couldn’t. “Thanks.”

  “Why the sudden focus on Brian? We knew all of this before. I figured you’d be after the Caddy driver.”

  I smiled. “When you ran info on Brian it included his address and all cars registered to that address. Brian drives a blue Altima but his mom owns a black 2010 Caddy. Spinner rims didn’t scream someone’s mom but Brian could’ve swapped them out after borrowing the car. If I can get a look I’ll at least know if he used it to chase us down. For all we know he took a bunch of pictures from inside and is making money off us. Or he wanted to kill us.”

  “You want to rattle him and see what comes out?” Ricky nodded.

  “That’s the idea.” I didn’t like or trust Brian.

  Just an instinct I couldn’t explain. Like there was something trying to get loose in him. He held it in check but it was a matter of time.

  “Let’s do it,” he agreed.

  “You drive. If he sees my car it might make him nervous to start. Let‘s see how far we can get being nice.”

  On the road Ricky drove through a doughnut place and I got a large black coffee. The detour wasn’t planned.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  He parked the car and sipped his own coffee. “I want to make sure you don’t go off on this guy. We’ve got reason to question him but it’s personal to you.”

  I’d been expecting this lecture. “I know. I won’t get physical or anything. It’s a lead. He knew and contacted Sonia and Danny. He had their home address. He has more knowledge of them than any average fan.”

  “But no proof of motive to harm. Maybe I should go without you.” Ricky was serious.

  “Brian commented on my pictures over at the Queen Bees. Brian watched me on the street. He’ll recognize me and maybe he’ll be interested enough to talk. I’m not a liability here. And if he’s guilty you can arrest him.” I nudged him. “You go in solo it’ll be cop and suspect.”

  Ricky sighed and put his coffee in the center cup holder. “You play it low key. Like we’re just trying to see if he knows anything that could help us.”

  “Done. I’m open for any lead. Did you run the plates from the Caddy?” I asked.

  “Just like you thought, the plate was stolen off an old Buick from East L.A.” He drove back out on the highway and headed to the suburbs of Los Angeles. “Let’s compare notes. What do you know about Brian?”

  “Teaches at UCLA, poetry, classic literature, and he’s on the tenure track. Father died when he was in high school, cancer. He lives with his mother. She’s in her early sixties and he’s thirty-seven. No record according to Todd or you.” I grabbed a sip of coffee. “Danny talked to some of Brian’s classes. Brian sent Sonia a lot of odd love letters. Very Shakespearean and yet puritanical.”

  “We saw him at the funeral,” Ricky added.

  “I’m sure there are plenty of guest speakers in college classes. He just wants to be close to fame or maybe he wanted my sister.” My gut said Brian was not some sweet fan who adored her from afar even if that’s how his fan mail read. “I want to be sure.”

  “Maybe he wanted Danny? There are a lot of angles here, Hel. You’re focused on one and I understand that. But let me explore it all. We don’t want to miss something.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t even think about that.” The gay obsession was a possibility but I didn’t get that feel from Brian. “He could have fallen for Danny and murdered him when the advances were rejected. I’m not totally obsessed with this suspect either. Todd is running info on Carmen too, just in case.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Half an hour later we walked up to the modest home. I glanced up the driveway where the Cadillac sat in the open garage. I shook my head at Ricky. Not the right car. Even if they’d changed the tires, that wasn’t the right model and the windows weren’t darkened.

  Ricky shrugged and we moved on to the porch. He rang the doorbell and I tried to relax and smile. Good cop was the role we both needed to play for now.

  The door opened and it was the mother. Maybe it would’ve been better if we went after Brian alone while he was at work but it was too late to leave now.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Conners. I’m Detective Evans. We’d like to talk to Brian if he’s home.” Ricky flashed his badge but Mrs. Conners stared at me.

  “You’re Helena Morris. Brian mentioned he met you at the funeral.” She opened the door wide
. “Come in.”

  We followed her into a well-kept house that looked stuck in the late seventies with minor updates here and there. “Please sit down. I’ll let Brian know you’re here and put on some coffee.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Ricky sat in an armchair.

  I sat on the couch. When Mrs. Conners left I frowned at Ricky. “She saw the badge, right?”

  “Yeah, I think she‘s more interested in you. Play it friendly, like he can help us. Who knows what he knows.” Ricky played good cop really well. But he’d always wanted to help people.

  A few minutes later Brian came out. Dressed in jeans and a UCLA T-shirt, he looked relaxed. Cute and in shape, he wasn’t the typical poetry or even Star Wars geek. I’d seen him at the funeral and once before on the street, though I didn’t know it was him then. Still, in the drama of the funeral I’d never taken a good look. He could get a date without trouble so why was he obsessed with soap operas?

  “I didn’t believe it.” He stared at me. “Helena Morris, I figured after the funeral you’d have me arrested if you ever saw me again.”

  I looked at Ricky for a split second. “No, no law against coming to a cemetery. I’m just paranoid for my sister’s safety and I’d never met you before. You understand that some fans are a little...”

  “Crazy—I know, I see it on the web all the time. That’s why I always identify myself as Dr. Brian. To show there are educated fans of the genre.” He turned to Ricky. “Brian Conners, PhD.”

  The men shook hands. “Rick Evans, LAPD. Hope you don’t mind if we ask you some questions. You knew Danny and we’re checking every potential lead and I’m sure one of our uniforms was by already.”

  “No problem. They haven’t caught Danny’s killer?” He sat down next to me. “How’s your sister doing?”

  I put my competition face on and didn’t budge despite wanting to put a little more space between us. “She’s holding up okay. No, they haven’t caught the killer yet. The suspects are confusing. Do you know anything that could help us?”