by D. V. Berkom
“Come on, Eddie. Let's go make us a grilled cheese sandwich and watch some Stooges, okay? You've had enough excitement for one day.”
Edward grinned and clapped his hands. “Yes—the Three Stooges. I like the Three Stooges.”
Peter took him by the hand and they walked into the house together.
“Hey, Moe!”
CHAPTER 13
“YOU HUNGRY?”
Jensen poked his head out of the bathroom door. Leine corrected herself: Santiago. They'd just had an evening of wild, no-holds-barred sex. Calling him 'Jensen' seemed somehow too removed from what they'd done to each other.
“Not really,” she replied. “Hey—what do your friends call you? Santiago is nice, but it's a mouthful.”
Jensen grinned. “Putnam calls me Santa. My mother calls me Santiago Reynaldo Tomàs Jensen, but that's usually when she's mad.”
“I'll stick with Santiago, or maybe Jensen. Or how about Snookie-wookie-buns? Would that work?”
He laughed as he came back in the room and crawled into bed. “Yeah, that'd go over great with the guys.” His brilliant green eyes bored into hers. “As long as you call me.”
She could swear her knees melted. Good thing she was lying down. Jensen bent his head and nipped at her shoulder. He slid down to nuzzle her neck, followed by a slow, leisurely lick of her right nipple. Leine felt a shiver dance down her back.
“Are you ready for the red-hot tamale grandé?” he asked between nips, his voice husky.
Leine rolled her eyes and sat up. “Look, Santa baby. It's late, and I've got to be at work in less than an hour. Not that I wouldn't love to stick around, but I need to swing by my place, see if April got back all right.” She sighed. “Hopefully she's calmed down and we're on speaking terms.”
Jensen lay back with a smile. “No problem. But remember what's waiting for you,” he said, sliding the sheet off his impressive erection.
Leine laughed as she climbed over him and padded into the bathroom. “Believe me, it'll be tough enough to function today without having that picture in my head.”
***
Leine kicked the door to the bungalow closed and dropped her purse on the chair by the fireplace. The key was gone from under the pot on the porch. A vase of Black-eyed Susans stood on the counter, along with a twenty-dollar bill. She walked over to the fridge and opened the door. A half-gallon of two percent milk, a block of cheddar and a head of romaine took up residence on one shelf. Several cans of Red Bull stood on another.
Leine moved down the hallway and stopped at the closed door to the guest bedroom, hesitating to knock. She didn't want to wake April if she'd gotten in late. Thinking better of it, she went to her room, picked out some clean clothes for the day and headed to the bathroom to shower.
Showered and dressed, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The guest room door was open and the bed made. Not sure what mood her daughter would be in, Leine walked to the kitchen, bracing for anything. April sat at the counter, wearing the skull t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants, drinking a cup of coffee. Her backpack rested against the stool next to her.
“Want some?” April indicated the fresh brewed pot of coffee next to the stove.
“Sounds great.” Leine poured herself a cup and took a sip. Pretty good. Better tasting than hers.
“Did you have fun last night?”
April's tone held no trace of anger from the day before. More like polite interest.
“Look. Obviously, we got off on the wrong foot yesterday. I can't change the past, but I'm willing to start working on the future. Can we please start fresh?”
April studied Leine for a moment, ran a hand through her hair. “Where were you last night?”
Leine's shoulders relaxed a fraction. “With a friend. Detective Jensen.”
“I'm sure a date with him was a lot better than staying at home waiting for a daughter you haven't seen in over three years.” Her voice echoed against the kitchen walls. “You really don't care about anything or anyone, do you? But I already knew that, didn't I?”
Leine's heart broke at the hurt in her voice. Her eyes welled. She couldn't stop the tear from trickling down her cheek. Another followed. Oh, God, not now. Maintain, Leine. She covered her face with her hands, unable to stop the torrent of emotion that engulfed her.
When the storm passed, Leine lifted her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. April sat frozen to the stool, evidently unsure how to handle seeing her ex-assassin mother go through an emotional breakdown.
That's what I get. No one expects me to have any feelings. How can a person who did what I did for a living be human?
Leine grabbed a kitchen towel and blew her nose, leaning against the wall for support. She took a deep breath and let it go.
“Detective Jensen called at a vulnerable moment. If we hadn't had a fight, I wouldn't have left. And, I know it's no excuse, but being back in L.A. has been stressful...so weird, the old neighborhood, the memories.”
April traced invisible circles on the counter with her finger. Leine stared at the delicate silver and lapis ring she wore.
“That's why I'll be staying at Frank's.”
“What? I thought he was out of town.”
“He gets back today.”
“You don't have to do that.” Leine's stomach curled into a knot. “I said I was sorry. Give me some time. I really want to talk to you, try to figure us out.” When would another chance like this come along? When she was eighty?
April straightened on her stool and shook her hair off her shoulders. Like she did when she was a little girl. “It's already done. I called him last night. His plane lands at LAX in a few hours.” She lowered her gaze and started with the circles again. “So what's your new job like? Del told me you were working security for a reality show. Kind of overkill, don't you think?”
Do I detect a hint of sarcasm? To her, Leine would always be a killer. No wonder she doesn't visit. She still seethed at the thought of her old boss, Eric. He single-handedly destroyed the close relationship that had existed between her and her daughter. It didn't matter to Eric how devastating killing Carlos had been for Leine. As long as he got what he wanted.
“Yeah. Well. I'm not in the business anymore. I have to pay the bills.”
“You hate television.”
“Hate's a strong word.”
April shrugged, took another sip of coffee.
“Look, can we talk later? I need to get down to the studio. How about we have dinner tonight? I'll come by Frank's and pick you up after work, okay?”
April stared into her coffee like a fortune teller reading tea leaves. Then she looked at Leine. Why hadn't she noticed the red-rimmed eyes? Shit. How horrible of a mother am I to make my only daughter cry?
“I think Frank has something planned already.”
“Come on, April. You need to meet me part way.” Leine's heart pounded steadily in her chest. That in itself was a wonder, since she could barely breathe.
April paused a beat, considering. Then, “If you want. Sure.”
Leine noticed her mouth twitch. She decided it was a smile.
She could work with that.
CHAPTER 14
LEINE LOCKED HER purse in a desk drawer in Serial Date's administration office and was just leaving to grab a cup of coffee when Gene cornered her next to the water cooler.
“We gotta talk,” he said in a low voice. Large patches of perspiration bled through the armpits of his short sleeved shirt and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He grabbed her by the arm and led her behind a cubicle, checking to make sure no one was nearby.
“Sure, Gene. What do you need?”
“Kaneesha quit…”
“Okay? And?”
“Bronkowski gave the spot to Brenda, my niece.”
The worry on his face didn't jibe with what he was telling her.
“How is that a problem? They caught the killer, Gene. Don’t worry.” Leine made a move to leave, but he gripped h
er arm.
“Stacy's missing…” The words came out in a hiss.
“There you are, Gene.” Peter's voice slid between them as he walked across the room toward the cubicle. Gene backed off, plastering an artificial smile on his face.
“Yeah, boss?”
“I need you to check on Javier. He's having some kind of meltdown in the dressing room.”
“On my way.” Gene cast a furtive glance at Leine as he left.
Peter sighed and turned to Leine. He looked gaunt. The skin around his bloodshot eyes had a grayish cast and his lips looked like a bloodless gash across his face. Leine wondered how much cocaine the man ingested that morning.
“Actors.” He scowled as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the end of the cubicle. “So, you've heard about what happened with Kaneesha and Stacy?”
Leine decided to play dumb. No point in getting Gene in trouble. “No. What's up?”
“Kaneesha quit. I can't really blame her. Finding Mandy was pretty devastating to the girls—I mean, contestants. Couldn't quite pull it together afterward. Anyway, Gene's niece, Brenda, stepped in. I think she'll be great. Gene's a little stressed, though. He's pretty overprotective.”
“And Stacy?”
Peter shook his head. “Stacy took off with Devon. They're both gone. Found a note saying they were headed for the redwoods, gonna live in wine country.” He chuckled. “It's happened before. Sometimes these gals get a taste of dangerous and just can't help themselves.”
Leine remained quiet, her curiosity about what Gene tried to tell her growing.
“Thought I should let you know. Bring you up to speed, so to speak.”
“Are you going to replace her?”
“Paula's looking at submissions now. Should have someone within the week. I'll keep you posted.” Peter rolled his eyes as he backed away toward the door. “Never a dull moment…”
As soon as he'd gone, Leine went in search of Gene. She didn't find him in a quick sweep of the building and ended up getting sidetracked by Billy and his inane questions about her past as a bodyguard. By the time she extricated herself from the conversation, she caught a glimpse of Gene and Peter leaving out a side door.
She walked back to the office to grab some cash, intending to find something to eat in the vending machine in the break room. As she bent down to retrieve her purse from the desk drawer she overheard Peter's assistant, Paula, speaking to someone on the phone.
“I understand that, Mrs. Ross, but she's no longer employed by Serial Date.” There was a pause. Then, “Officially, all I've been told is that she left. I don't know why, ma'am. I'm sorry.” Another pause. “Yes, ma'am, I'll have Mr. Bronkowski call you as soon as he gets in.”
Paula hung up the phone. Leine walked over to her desk.
“Stacy's mother?”
Paula nodded. She didn't look happy.
“She says Stacy didn't call them last night like she always does and she's worried. Mr. Bronkowski told me not to tell anyone about the note she and Devon left about going to northern California to live. If anyone calls looking for her I'm supposed to tell them what I told her mom. He said he'd take care of any callbacks.” Paula busied herself tidying a stack of papers. “If it were my mom, she'd be here in a heartbeat, looking for me. It's not like Stacy to run off with some guy. Especially one of the bachelors.”
“Why not? Devon was attractive and seemed nice enough.” His alibi of having dinner with his mother had checked out, too. “And, he must have made a boatload of money being on the show.”
“It's not that. When she first got hired she and I became friends, I guess because of me being active in church and all. None of the other girls go and Stacy was really lonely. She told me she decided to come on the show as a way to minister to non-believers. I told her good luck. I've been around here since the beginning and I haven't figured out a way to make a dent. Basically, I keep my head down, do my work.”
Leine's urge to talk to Gene ramped up a notch. “Why do you stay? It's got to be frustrating to see everything that goes on around here.”
Paula's cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink. “The money's really good, you know? I've been able to tithe a lot to my church. I figure it evens out in the end.”
“I guess we all have our reasons. Stacy must have had hers.”
“I suppose. It still doesn't seem like her, though.” The phone buzzed and one of the lines lit up. Paula gave Leine an apologetic look before answering.
Leine grabbed her purse and headed toward the break room, more determined than ever to find Gene.
***
The chance didn't present itself until after five. Leine was getting ready to leave to pick up April when she saw Peter and Gene walk through the front door. Gene stopped to talk to the new security guard on duty as Peter continued toward his office. Peter had fired the guard that fell asleep the night of Mandy's murder. This one wasn't much better, in Leine's opinion.
She stepped behind a column. As soon as Peter passed by and rounded the corner, she marched up to Gene, grabbed his arm and pulled him out of earshot of the guard.
“What were you trying to tell me earlier?”
Gene shook his head. “Nothing. Don't worry about it. I had a momentary lapse.” He glanced down the hallway where Peter had disappeared.
“C'mon, Gene. That's bullshit. You were upset this morning. Something about Stacy missing?”
“Nah. I was over reacting. Peter told me about the note they left. Not a big deal.” Gene shifted his weight, looking toward the hallway.
“Yeah, I don't think so, Gene. I know when you're lying. You forget who you're talking to.”
Gene's expression hardened. Leine knew that look. His stubbornness had kicked in. She continued, ignoring his discomfort.
“I had an odd conversation with Paula this morning about Stacy. Did you know she was using Serial Date as a kind of a missionary outreach thing for her church? You know, trying to save souls and shit like that?”
Gene blinked, but didn't look away. Good. She had his attention.
“Why would Stacy go running off with Devon? Wasn't he one of the two original suspects in Mandy's murder?”
Gene closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were filled with despair. He took her elbow, dragged her into a nearby office and shut the door.
“I don't know what to do.” He leaned against the wall and covered his face with his hands. Alarmed, Leine stood next to him, her hand on his shoulder.
Gene sighed and dropped his hands to his sides.
“Last night when I was locking up, I found Stacy…” He stopped, obviously trying to collect himself before he continued. “Someone had...she was dead.” Gene tried to take a deep breath but it looked like a struggle. “It's gotta be the same guy from before.” He leaned over like he was in pain, his hands on his knees, his breathing rapid.
Afraid he'd hyperventilate, Leine rubbed his back, trying to calm him, stunned by the implications. They've got the wrong guy. He's still out there. I need to tell Jensen.
“Gene.” She glanced around the room, looking for something he could breathe into to calm down. Nothing looked usable. “Gene. Listen to me.” She put her hand under his chin and lifted his head so she could look him in the eye.
Focusing on Leine seemed to help quiet his breathing. He stared at her through misery-filled eyes.
“Peter knows, am I right?”
Gene nodded.
“I've got to tell Detective Jensen.”
Gene shook his head. “You can't tell anyone. Do you know how many people rely on this show? They'll shut it down. Peter has it under control. He's making sure it doesn't happen again.”
“Are you crazy? How can he do that? Does he know who did it?”
By the look on Gene's face, he wasn't telling her the whole story. This was insanity. Careful to keep her voice calm she asked, “Gene, where's Stacy now?”
“I don't know.”
She could tell the stubborn
ness had kicked back in by the set of his shoulders and his tight-lipped reply. She could also tell he was lying. She had to tell Jensen. It didn't matter if they shut the show down. Be the best damn thing that ever happened to this fucked up little slice-of-life. Sure, she'd be out of a job along with everyone else, but for Christ's sake, people were dying.
“You can't tell anybody, Leine.” Gene's eyes glittered in the fluorescent light. His breathing had become more measured, calm. This was a look of his she'd never seen him use before. It held a strong warning mixed with something Leine had seen many times in her life.
Malice and implied threat.
“Sure, Gene. You know me. Not a word.”
His face relaxed, but not by much. He wasn't convinced. She'd have to be careful.
She looked at her watch and realized she was late. “I've got to go.”
“Things can happen, Leine. Remember that.”
Gene was threatening her? She almost laughed, but realized she couldn't always be on alert. He did know her. Knew her habits, knew where she was living. Didn't matter how long they'd known each other. The term “thick as thieves” was never very accurate when it came to actual thieves. She'd have to rely on her instincts to stay safe. Good thing April was staying at Frank's.
“I will.”
***
As soon as she cleared the front doors and Gene's line of sight, she called Jensen but it went to voicemail. She left a short message asking him to call her.
Leine disconnected and walked quickly to her car. She tried April's cell on the way, but no luck there, either. Then she tried Frank's. April had given her the number before Leine left for work that morning.
“Hello?”
Frank's voice set her back on her heels. God, she hated that she still felt like this. When was she going to get over him and move on? She left him. Not the other way around.
“Hi, Frank. It's Leine.”
“Oh. Hi.”
There were so many things she wanted to say but realized none of them mattered right now. What mattered was April.
