Fade to Blue

by Bill Moody

  I close my phone and start out, then remember Ryan and Melanie are out, the BMW is in Malibu. I find Emillio in the kitchen. “Andie just called. I have to pick her up in Westwood. Would you mind if I borrowed your car?”

  “Of course not,” he says. He fishes the key out of his pocket. “I’ll make a special dinner.”

  “Thanks, Emillio.”

  I make the drive into Westwood in record time, my mind bouncing back and forth from Ryan’s disclosure that his dad hadn’t seen him until the morning after his drive, and trying to guess what Andie couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me on the phone. I find the coffee shop easily, remembering now Andie and I had been there a couple of times before during the Gillian Payne case. I find her in a booth, nursing a cup of coffee. I give her a quick kiss and slide in opposite her. She manages a weak smile. I reach across the table and take her hand. “Okay, what is it?”

  “It could be nothing, but Wendell thought I should know and he left it to me to tell you.”

  “What? C’mon, Andie, what is it?”

  “You’re going to need a cigarette. Let’s go outside.”

  I wave off an approaching waitress, throw some money on the table for her coffee and follow Andie outside. We start to walk up Wilshire. The traffic is heavy, cars streaming by as I look across toward the Veteran’s Cemetery.

  Andie stops, touches my arm. “We, they, lost Gillian Payne.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I just stare at Andie for a long moment, as if I haven’t heard what she’d said. Coming from a meeting with Wendell Cook at the Bureau Office, she was dressed more officially today. Dark blue pantsuit, powder blue blouse, the jacket slung over her shoulder. She was right. I did need a cigarette.

  I light one and sit down on a narrow wall surrounding a flower bed outside the coffee shop. “What do you mean they lost Gillian Payne? She was in a state prison for God’s sake.”

  Andie stands in front of me, her arms crossed, looking down. “She was being transferred, temporarily moved to another facility for more psychiatric counseling. I don’t know all the details, but somehow she managed to slip away. They think she may have had some inside help.”

  Gillian Payne had murdered four people and almost killed her brother in Las Vegas during a concert. She’d also seriously injured Coop. I’d been recruited by the FBI to help them decipher clues she’d left at the crime scenes nobody in the FBI could make sense of, but it had become personal, and I was made a conduit between her and the FBI when she discovered I was working with them. There were phone calls, poems, threats, music, all directed at me. It was a nightmare for me, a game for her.

  “We’ve notified her brother as well,” Andie says. “We’re on it, Evan, really. She won’t get far.” As far as I knew, Gillian’s brother Greg Sims was in the witness protection program.

  Except for the concert, the last time I’d seen her was in jail. She’d insisted on seeing me and the FBI agreed, catering to her to ensure her cooperation to help strengthen their case . I would never forget seeing her through the glass in the visitors room just before I left for Europe.

  I’d picked up the phone and looked at her. “What do you want, Gillian?” I said.

  “I wanted to see you once, under different conditions, thank you for finding Greg, see that you understand.”

  “I’ll never understand what you did Gillian. I don’t think you do either.”

  Her smile was chilling. I saw not a trace of remorse. “No, I guess you don’t. But think about it, Evan. Are you so different from me?”

  I had no idea what she meant. I put the phone down then and walked out, convinced I’d never see her again. But it wasn’t quite over. At LAX, Andie had seen me off, and gave me a slip of paper with one of Gillian’s poems. It was like all the others, a modified Haiku.

  Dizzy Atmosphere

  Miles Smiles in a Silent Way

  Bird Lives!

  That was over five years ago, and now this psycho was out, on the run somewhere. “Jesus, Andie, she got a life sentence. Don’t they take extra precautions with someone like her?” I finish my cigarette and stamp it out.

  “Of course they do,” Andie says, “but she’s apparently been a model prisoner. Sometimes things just…happen.” She sits down next to me. “We’ll get her, Evan. She’ll go right to the top of the FBI’s most wanted.”

  “What does Wendell Cook say?”

  “That there’s no reason to think she will come after you, or have any idea where you are. Wendell just wanted you to know the status of things.”

  “That’s very comforting.”

  “C’mon, let’s go,” Andie says.

  We get in the car and start the drive back to Malibu. Reliving some of the horrible moments with Gillian’s voice in my ear, I negotiate the rush hour traffic to the Coast

  Highway. I can still see her holding a knife to Nicky Drew’s throat, backstage at the concert in Las Vegas, her brother Greg lunging at her, hitting her in the face with his saxophone, Coop and the police finally subduing her, pinning her to the floor while she screamed, “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it!”

  I try to shake these and other thoughts off but I know in my heart they’ll never go away. And now, Gillian Payne, cold-blooded killer, is free again, at least temporarily.

  “Evan? The light’s green.”

  I blink and look at Andie, her voice pulling me back to the present. A horn honks behind me. I wave my hand out the window in apology to the driver and pull away, crossing Topanga Canyon Boulevard.

  “Are you okay?” Andie asks. I nod but don’t answer. At the next available opportunity, I turn off into a parking area on the beach side and stop the car. I turn off the engine and look at Andie.

  “It’s all coming back.”

  “I know, but don’t get ahead of things. She won’t be free for long and there’s no reason to believe she’ll be looking for you.”

  “I helped send her to prison. Why wouldn’t she?”

  “She’s a fugitive on the run. She won’t have time to think about you or me or Coop. Anyway, she has no idea where you are now or what you’re doing.”

  “I hope you’re right, Andie.”

  “I am. Believe me, escaped killers are high priority for the FBI. They have some leads.” I feel her eyes on me as I light a cigarette and stare out at the ocean. “Before we get back to the house, bring me up to speed on Ryan’s situation.”

  I know she’s trying to divert my thoughts from Gillian Payne, and it does help to think in another direction. I recount most of what I’d already told her earlier. She doesn’t stop me until I mention Ryan’s admission about his dad not knowing he was home until morning.

  “Whoa,” Andie says. “That kind of changes things, at least the time frame.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s only got half an alibi now. He can’t prove when he got to his dad’s house.”

  “Does that make a difference?”

  “It could. He should have told the police that when he made his statement.”

  I wanted to ignore it, but I know Andie’s right.

  “What about this Manny guy at the car wash? You think he’d cover for Ryan if there was damage to the car?”

  “I really don’t know. My take on him was he was telling the truth.”

  Andie looks away, out at the ocean. It’s turned a dark blue now, the sun shimmering off the waves. “You just never know,” she says. “You just never know.”

  We sit for a few more minutes, both lost in thought, mesmerized by the ocean. I start the car and pull out to the highway, waiting for an opening in the heavy traffic. It’s slow going until we get past Malibu Pier. The rest of the trip is easy. At the end of Broad Beach Road I pull up to the gates and punch in the number code on the keypad.

  Ryan’s Mercedes is back and parked behind it is Grant Robbins car. I park the VW off to the side and we go inside. Emillio greets Andie in the kitchen. “So nice to see
you again, Miss Lawrence,” he says.

  “Thank you. I missed your cooking.”

  Emillio smiles. “We’ll make up for that this evening.” He nods toward the deck. I see Ryan and Grant Robbins. “There’s some good news.”

  I hand Emillio his car key with a nod of thanks and Andie and I go out to join them with hellos all around. Robbins seems about to burst. “Great news, Evan. The Malibu Police are releasing the car tomorrow morning. Everything is fine.”

  I look at Ryan. He meets my gaze with a wink as if to say, ‘I told you so.’ “Great,” I say. Andie says nothing and sits down.

  “There’s more,” Grant continues. “Ryan is going on the Today Show tomorrow morning to help clear up everything for his fans.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be relieved,” Andie says, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice but not very successfully. Ryan gives her a look but says nothing in response.

  “Is the Today Show a good idea?” I ask Robbins.

  “Sure. It gets Ryan out there again in a positive light, takes away that cloud of suspicion. I think it’s a good move.”

  Emillio comes out then with two Bloody Marys for Andie and me. “You are a wonder,” Andie says, taking the glass from Emillio.

  Robbins finishes his drink and stands up. “Well, I have to run. Lots to do,” he says. “Could I see you outside for a moment, Evan?”

  “Sure.” I get up and follow him out to his car.

  He turns toward me. “It’s all go on the movie now. I’m having a contract drawn up for you to score the film and lock things in. Once that’s done, we’ll have a script for you.”

  I feel a rush at his words. “Great. I’m ready.”

  “Yes, Evan. It’s going to happen now.”

  Why now, is all I can think as I watch Robbins drive out through the gates.

  I go back in the house and find Andie in deep conversation with Melanie at one end of the deck. Melanie is in a white warm-up suit that clings to her body. She’s wearing light makeup and looks better than I’ve seen her for days, much of it I think, due to seeing Andie again. She’s like an older sister for Melanie.

  “Those girls do get along, don’t they?” Ryan says, his eyes on both of them. He turns to me. “What’s it like having an FBI agent for a girlfriend?”

  “It can be exciting,” I say. If you only knew, I think.

  A half hour later, Emillio serves up another sumptuous dinner on the deck. Ryan talks about doing the Today Show. He seems relaxed and not at all snappy with Melanie. I catch Andie studying him all through dinner, profiling him I imagine, based on what she already knows. I can’t wait to hear about that later.

  We linger over coffee then I get a look from Andie. I stand up. “We’re going to hit it, folks. Andie’s had a long day.”

  “Hey, sleep in,” Ryan says. “I’ve got to leave at the crack of dawn for the taping. Check me out when you get up.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Andie says. We make our way to the guesthouse where Andie immediately begins to strip off her FBI suit. She walks naked into the bathroom, turns on the shower, and looks at me. “Want to wash my hair?”

  I awaken to light knocking on our door. When I open it, Emillio has left a tray with coffee, all the fixings, and a plate of warm cinnamon rolls. I get the TV on just in time to hear the anchor say, “When we come back, a conversation with Ryan Stiles.”

  I give Andie a shake and hand her a cup of coffee. “Time for our boy.”

  Andie groans and buries her face in the pillow. “You watch and tell me about it.”

  “No, I want your take on his performance.”

  She struggles upright, leans back on the headboard, and takes a cup of coffee. I join her and we sit through several commercials, then Matt Lauer’s face appears. “Welcome back. Our very special guest this morning is one of the biggest box office stars in the business. Ryan Stiles’ face is known throughout the world, but of late, the young star is embroiled in controversy surrounding the death of photographer Darryl McElroy.” There’s a shot of Ryan facing a camera, then it’s split screen as they both talk to monitors.

  “Ryan, thanks for getting up so early.”

  Ryan smiles big. “Always a pleasure, Matt. Nice to be here.”

  “Ryan, it’s no secret that the last few days you’ve been linked to the death of a paparazzo named Darryl McElroy. I understand you’ve given a statement to the police. It’s also no secret that you’ve had several run-ins with McElroy in the past.”

  Ryan’s smile is a tad weaker, but he presses on. “Mr. McElroy and I have had our differences, but I understand he had to make a living, and taking pictures of me and other actors is one of the ways he did.” Ryan changes his expression then. “His death was tragic, and I certainly offer my thoughts to his family.” He pauses for a moment, takes a breath. “I want to go on record right here that I had nothing to do with Darryl McElroy’s death.”

  “But isn’t it true that on the night of McElroy’s death you had a violent altercation with him at a restaurant in Malibu?”

  “I wouldn’t call it violent, Matt. We had words and in my opinion, he overstepped his bounds. I simply reacted.”

  “By breaking his camera? Some people would call that overreacting.”

  Ryan looks away for a moment, then back to the camera. “Things got a little heated, Matt, but I simply left and tried to diffuse the incident.”

  Lauer glances down, consulting notes. “So are the police satisfied with your statement?”

  “Absolutely, Matt. They also checked my car for damage and found none. As far as I’m concerned, the incident is closed.”

  Matt Lauer smiles then. “I’m sure your fans will be pleased to hear that. Before we go, can you tell us what new project is in the works?”

  “I wish I could, Matt, but for now all I can say is it’s a very different role for me.”

  Lauer nods. “Thanks for taking time to be with us, Ryan. Best of luck with the new film.”

  “Thanks, Matt. Always a pleasure.” Ryan’s face fades from the screen.

  “We’ll be right back with the weather where you are,” Lauer says. “This is Today on NBC.”

  I turn off the TV and look at Andie. “Well?”

  She shrugs. “He went public. I’ll give him that. He almost lost it when Lauer pressed. He was clearly annoyed, but he recovered well, not too defensive, and once the talk turned to movies, he was his old self.” She drains her coffee and sets the cup on the nightstand.

  “Anything else?”

  “He never blinked once. In his mind, Ryan is convinced he did nothing wrong”

  “Unless you call breaking a camera a way to diffuse an incident.”

  After breakfast, Andie and I head for the beach. We spend the morning walking, splashing in the water like a couple of kids. While Andie plops down on the sand, I take a quick dip, and surf a couple of waves. The water is cold, invigorating. The sun on my shoulders feels good as I reach the beach and make my way back to Andie, who’s talking to Ryan.

  “Dude, good news,” he says as I wrap a towel around me. “I was just telling Andie the Malibu Police are releasing the car. You guys catch me on TV?”

  “We did,” Andie says. “Very impressive.”

  “So what’s next?” I ask.

  “The movie, dude, the movie. Grant says the investors are satisfied and ready to put the cash in place.” He takes a long look at me. “You ready to sign a contract now?”

  “You ready to show me the script?”

  “Grant has the details. The director wants to make some changes, but we’ll get you a copy as soon as possible.”

  I glance at Andie, then gaze out at the ocean. I know what she’s thinking. See the script first, then sign. It’s my feeling too. “Look, you have a lot to do. You don’t need me around here for awhile. I’d like to go home.” I catch Andie nodding approval. “When you get a final copy of the script, send it to me with the contr
act and we’ll go from there.”

  “Fair enough,” Ryan says. “We can do that.” He looks down for a moment, dragging his foot through the sand. “I’m counting on you to do the music. You’re not going to bail on me are you? ”

  “I haven’t yet.”

  “Cool. See you guys inside.” Ryan turns, jogs up the steps to the house.”

  “Can we get a flight this evening?” Andie takes my hand. “I want to spend some time in Monte Rio.”

  “I don’t see why not. Had enough of Malibu?”

  “Malibu I love. Star power gets old.”

  I make some calls and we get lucky with an evening flight to San Francisco. Emillio offers to drive us to the airport. When he drops us off, he gets out of the car and shakes hands with both of us.

  “It’s been nice having some real people around,” he says.

  “You stay in touch, okay?” I hand him one of my cards. “Call anytime.”

  We grab out bags and walk into the terminal. I turn around and look back over my shoulder. Emillio is still standing there, watching us go.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Getting back to Monte Rio and my own place is exactly what I needed. The contrast between the beach in Malibu, and the scent and sight of huge Redwoods and the Russian River acts like a tonic. The absence of movie stars helps a lot too, and makes me begin to rethink everything. All these thoughts run through my mind as I open all the windows to air out the place. I pop the top on a Brother Thelonious beer, and sit out on the deck, to absorb the quiet and solitude.

  Our flight had been on time, and as we touched down in Oakland, Andie and I were already talking about Chinese takeout. We had picked up her car from long-term parking, made the quick drive to her place and ordered by phone. We stuffed ourselves on rice and kung pao chicken, then fell into Andie’s bed. The next thing I heard was Andie as the alarm went off.

  “Oh, not already,” she groaned. She pulled herself out of bed and stumbled for the shower. When I opened my eyes again, Andie, clad only black bra and panties, was rummaging in her closet. I sat up a little, thought sometimes it’s just as fun to watch a woman dress as it is to see her slowly strip off.