“We need to discuss it, take notes.” She walked toward her front door, and Jose stood. He looked between Sofia and Aidan. “You can take your beer and the pizza with you.”
Aidan shrugged. “Women.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said.
“If it works out.” Jose leaned in to give her a kiss, then changed his mind at the last second and veered away. “Only then call.”
He walked out onto her porch, tore a chunk off his pizza, and left it on the railing for Fred. Fred swooped down and snagged it up without landing, and Jose walked off into the darkness.
She closed the door and glared at Aidan. “What was that all about?”
“Just being friendly to your booty call.”
“He’s not just a booty call.” He was. He totally was.
“So, you’re serious about him? Long term? Marriage? Kids? White picket fence?”
She wasn’t serious about anyone long term. Aidan knew that, which was why he was asking. To get under her skin. “Let’s watch the rest of the show.”
Aidan chuckled and turned it back on. She tried not to sit and steam, because she really didn’t have anything to steam about. Aidan had been friendly. Jose had been friendly. Jose and Aidan seemed to get along fine. Maybe that was what bothered her. She pushed it out of her mind and watched the last of the documentary.
After it was over, Aidan turned to her. “What’s your analysis, Salgado?”
For a second she thought he was talking about the situation with Jose, but then she caught herself. “There’s something off with Polly.”
“Like what?”
“When she talks about her son being dead, she never says dead. She says ‘gone’ or ‘away.’ It’s as though Oliver stepped out to get a pizza, but he’ll be back some day.” Sofia stared at the blank screen. “But Gus identified his body. They buried him in the family plot. He’s not coming back.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to face it because she’s too upset,” Aidan said.
Sofia shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s like she’s not upset enough.”
Aidan turned to face her, looking interested. “How so?”
“It’s as though she’s acting sad, but she isn’t really. When she talks about the addiction, her whole face and body are involved. Watch.” She brought up a scene. “See how her eyebrows are?”
“They’re raised?”
“And sad. She’s genuinely upset about her son’s addiction. It’s real to her, and she feels pain because of it.”
“OK.” Aidan set his beer down on the table. “Then what?”
“But when she talks about his death ...” she moved through the footage, trying to find the right part. “... she’s not as engaged. Her shoulders are tight, she looks down, and her face isn’t moving right. It’s as if she doesn’t believe that her son is really dead. Maybe she’s just numb. Sometimes people go numb after a tragedy.”
Aidan watched the clip without saying anything, and Sofia began to doubt her instincts. Maybe Polly was keeping her emotions tightly in check. Maybe she didn’t want to share her feelings about her son’s death with the world.
Brendan had once told her that people were often suspects in murder investigations because their reactions didn’t ring true to the detectives. Sometimes the detectives were right, but often they were wrong. There was no right way to talk about the death of a loved one with a stranger.
CHAPTER 26
Sofia woke to the sound of someone pounding on her door. Based on the light leaking in behind her curtains, it was early in the morning. Was she ever going to get a full night’s sleep?
She pulled on her flannel robe and picked up the baseball bat next to her bed. Burglars probably didn’t knock, but Gus had knocked yesterday, and he’d meant trouble. She choked up a little on the bat to get a better grip. She’d played Little League ball before they moved to California so Emily could become an actress, and she’d learned how to swing. If a baseball broke through her front door, it’d be in real trouble.
Brendan had taught her that looking through the peephole was a bad idea. The person on the other side could see your shadow in the hole: they would know where your head was and could blow you away through the door. Brendan was full of helpful advice. If she listened to all of it, she’d live under her bed.
“Who’s there?” she called, moving as she spoke just in case the person on the other side could get a lock on her through the sound of her voice.
“Sunshine and happiness,” said a familiar voice.
“Brandi?” Sofia put down the bat and opened the door. Brandi wore a beat-up leather jacket, tight leather pants, and carried a motorcycle helmet. She seemed awfully chipper for such an early hour.
“Why are you dressed for bed?” Brandi shouldered past her and slammed the door.
“Because it’s four in the morning, and I was sleeping.”
Brandi stumbled by and sat on the couch. “Coffee.”
“I’m out.” Sofia hadn’t had time to buy groceries since this case had started.
“How do you live like that?” Brandi dropped her head back against the couch and looked at the ceiling.
“If you want I can put on some clothes and we can go to Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. In an hour. When they open.”
“Do you have water? Maybe a teabag?”
Sofia rummaged through her kitchen and found a box of Earl Grey. Gray had brought it because he didn’t like coffee. She put on a kettle and made tea, setting cups and saucers and sugar and milk on a tray. The tea set was a gift from Gray. She added a package of English biscuits he’d also brought. Gray was serious about tea.
When she’d set the tray on the couch, she turned to look at Brandi. Her eyes were closed, and she was snoring. Sofia decided against waking her up. If she left Brandi on the couch, maybe she could grab a few more hours of sleep, and they could talk about whatever it was over a cup of coffee.
She took one slow step toward her bedroom, her footfalls silent on the carpet.
Brandi’s eyes snapped open. “Earl Grey?”
Sofia sat down again. “So, a long night for you?”
“A long one for you is coming up.” Brandi dumped five spoons of sugar and a giant dollop of milk into her cup and stirred vigorously.
Sofia put in a spoonful of sugar, but no milk, and waited for Brandi to get to the point.
“Have you looked at TMZ this morning?”
“You mean the pictures of my ass hanging out? Old news.”
“Nah.” Brandi took a quick sip of the tea. “Those are funny.”
Sofia’s stomach dropped and the hand holding the cup did a little jump like it didn’t want to know what was coming. “Something new?”
“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” Brandi unwrapped a biscuit, took a bite, and spat half-chewed cookie into her hand. “What the hell are these things?”
“Digestive biscuits. They’re pretty awful.” Gray liked them, but Sofia had reacted like Brandi when she’d tasted the first one.
“Worse than dog biscuits.” Brandi wiped her tongue with a paper napkin and took a long gulp of tea.
“TMZ?” Sofia reminded her. TMZ had carried embarrassing footage of Sofia before.
“Right.” Brandi sat up straight on the couch, fiddled with her phone, and handed it to Sofia. She picked up her spoon and stirred her tea again, avoiding Sofia’s eyes.
Sofia didn’t want to take it, didn’t want to know what could possibly be on it that had prompted Brandi’s early morning visit, but she had to know. She took the phone and pressed the play arrow. The video was called Troubled Star Suicidal?. Not a promising start.
The video started rolling. It showed Sofia in a chair with pink bougainvillea at her back. It had been taken at Waves. She’d looked around for cameras in the garden but hadn’t spotted any.
“It hurt, and I liked how the Oxy filled out in my knee like a war
m bath, washing the pain away.” She heard her own words from the group session. She held her breath until On-screen Sofia finished talking about her addiction, how overwhelmed she felt, and the mysterious incident at the park. She didn’t usually watch her own TV shows or movies, and she was impressed by how authentic she sounded. But, of course, that was the problem. She’d have to call her mother.
“They leaked your sharing.” Brandi’s blue eyes flashed. “That’s the worst kind of violation.”
Sofia wasn’t sure what to say, so she shrugged.
“We should rain down fire on them.” Brandi shook her teaspoon with every word. Would that knock her off Aidan’s dateable list? “It’s a gross violation of privacy!”
“It is.” Sofia was already trying to figure out how to explain this to her mother. Emily, as always, would understand. Most of her friends probably wouldn’t believe her, especially with this footage coming out after she was photographed breaking out of rehab. If she still wanted an acting career, she’d have to submit to regular drug tests, and the cost to insure her on a film had just shot into the stratosphere.
“We could start a campaign.” Brandi was wound up. “I think you should get in front of this. I have contacts in the press. I know you do, too, but just in case. We could get you on with somebody sympathetic.”
“I need to call my mom,” Sofia said. “Wait there. Don’t move. Don’t call anyone. Just drink tea. And don’t eat any more biscuits. They all taste like that.”
She left Brandi on the couch and went back to her room to get dressed. She didn’t want to have this conversation with her mother in a robe.
Janet answered on the first ring. “Sofia? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Sofia sat on the edge of her unmade bed. She should have made the bed before she called. Her mother hated unmade beds. “But we need to talk.”
Covers rustled as they were thrown back. Her mother had climbed out of bed. “I’m ready.”
“Some footage of me was leaked by the rehab center.” Her call waiting buzzed. Jeffrey. She ignored it. “It’s not true.”
“OK.” Muffled thuds and clinks sounded in the background. Her mother was making coffee. “What kind of footage?”
“I think I should start at the beginning.” She pictured her mother sitting in one of her wooden kitchen chairs, smoothing her hair and waiting for the coffee to brew.
“The beginning. Go ahead.”
Janet was a great listener, which Sofia had never appreciated as much as right now. “This is confidential, but I have to tell you anyway, OK?”
“Of course. You know I can keep a secret.”
Sofia did, so she explained why she’d gone into rehab, not sparing any details.
It sounded like Janet took a long sip of coffee. Sofia wished she were next to her, drinking some coffee herself. “If you didn’t tell me this yesterday, I imagine there’s a reason you’re telling me today.”
“Someone leaked me talking about my fake addiction to TMZ. It’ll be all over the Internet soon, if it isn’t already.”
“That’s it?” Janet took a slow sip of coffee.
“I wanted to warn you, and tell you my side.”
Janet laughed. “And keep me from breaking in on you and that handsome young man again?”
“His name is Jose, and I don’t think he’ll be hanging around to be broken in on for a while.”
“I think Gray is much better for you.”
Gray, the hunky world famous sex symbol, was gay and would never be interested in her. But that wasn’t Sofia’s secret to tell. “Gray and I are just friends.”
“What about Aidan?” Her mother’s favorite topic.
“Aidan and I aren’t even always friends.” Because he was an asshat. Sometimes.
“I think—”
This wasn’t the time for that argument. “Mom, can you stop trying to fix me up and call Emily? I have a few other things.”
“You’re still coming over for dinner tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
Sofia rang off. She had missed ten calls. She typed in a quick text to Jeffrey, since he’d called her six times. Tell them it’s rehearsal for a role.
It was a lie, but somehow she didn’t mind lying to the liars. And it would keep Jeffrey off her back while he dealt with it, although he’d be pestering her about this new role soon enough. One thing at a time.
She went out into the living room. Brandi had drunk all the tea and was determinedly crunching on a digestive biscuit.
“We can go out to get some breakfast.”
“Maybe these cookies are an acquired taste.”
“You can take the whole bag.” Gray would bring more. He always brought more.
“You’re going to want to lie low today.” Brandi put the cookie down, temporarily defeated. “The paps are going to swarm.”
She was right, but it didn’t matter. “I have to find Monaco.”
“Did that bitch leak the clip?” Brandi glared.
“I don’t think so.” She’d bet on Gus. “But I still need to find her.”
“She’s moving around between empty houses, and Amber’s worried about her.”
“You’ve talked to Amber?”
“We’re buds. We were in rehab together, remember?” Brandi grinned. “Great set of pipes on that girl, too. I might want to recruit her for the band.”
“Do you know Monaco’s current location?”
“Amber can get it off Find My Phone. She always keeps track of Monaco that way. I’ll text her for it. Then we have to get you out of here in a way that keeps you from leaving a trail for the paparazzi.”
Sofia picked up her teacup and drained it. It wasn’t coffee, and that made it inferior.
“You have a back door, right?” Brandi had a wicked grin.
“I do.”
“Let’s do a little Pied Piper.” Brandi fished a set of keys out of the pocket of her battered leather jacket. “Can you ride?”
“A motorcycle? Or course.” The Half Pint Detective had ridden a Vespa and had once used a real motorcycle. She had trained for that scene for over a week.
“Then I have a plan.”
CHAPTER 27
Sofia wasn’t so sure about Brandi’s plan, but she had to admit it was fun. She had donned Brandi’s jacket and leather pants, and she wore a blond wig, but that wasn’t going to matter much. Brandi had put on Sofia’s jean jacket, jeans, a black turtleneck, and a black wig. Sofia had been given the wigs after various film shoots. She had a red and a green one, too.
Brandi put on a giant floppy sun hat and a huge pair of sunglasses—standard issue Hollywood camouflage. “How do I look?”
“Probably close enough.” Or this plan was going to be over quickly.
“I’ll go out the front door,” Brandi said. “Give me a five-minute head start to the parking lot.”
“Please don’t wreck my car.” Brandi had wrecked at least four cars that Sofia knew about.
“Beggars can’t be choosers.” Brandi pulled the hat lower across her face and stepped to the front door.
Sofia darted to the side so she’d be hidden when Brandi opened the door.
Brandi stepped out onto the porch. Cameras flashed and shutters clicked. Brandi pulled the door closed behind her. Outside light cast her silhouette against the curtains. She dropped her head low, hunched her shoulders forward, and walked quickly toward the parking lot. She had plenty of experience dodging photographers. She’d be OK.
Sofia hoped she’d do as well. She’d already texted the address of Monaco’s phone to Aidan and Brendan, but she didn’t expect them to be up for a couple of hours. She pulled on the motorcycle helmet and played with the keys in her pocket, waiting for her timer to go off.
At the five-minute beep, she hurried to the back door, set the alarm, and eased outside. She didn’t see anyone, but her peripheral vision was obstructed by the helmet. She had to hope for the best.
Brandi’s leather pants were a littl
e too tight, and she definitely felt it as she scrambled through her yard. Gray had a fence, but he’d once shown her the hidden gate and told her the alarm code for this kind of situation. She held her breath and entered the numbers. If he’d changed the code without telling her, the alarm might bring everyone running back.
The alarm flashed green and she stepped through the gate. Gray’s motion sensors lit up, but hopefully they wouldn’t be seen from the street.
She flashed a peace sign at the house. That was their signal. If Gray was even up, he’d know it was her. Assuming he was looking out of the window at exactly that second. Otherwise, he’d probably call the cops.
A quick trot across his yard, and she was free. She slipped through the gate and closed it behind her, then walked straight into Tex, who went sprawling on the path.
Sofia gave her a hand up. “Sorry!”
Tex had dirt all over her hot pink track suit.
“Sofia?” Tex asked. “You’re definitely not who I’d expect to come sneaking out of that gate in the early morning.”
“It’s an emergency.”
“I saw the flashbulbs.” Tex put a hand on Sofia’s arm. “Should I call in extra security guards? Get those photographers out of here? Go out there with my shotgun and raise some hell?”
Sofia was touched. “Not yet.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” She started down the path without saying good-bye.
Sofia turned toward the parking lot, breathed in some creativity, and got moving. She tried to walk like Brandi, shoulders open and back, legs doing a kind of rolling stroll, like a sailor on land.
When the lot came into view, she knew she owed Brandi big-time. At least fifty photographers had swarmed her, but Brandi had kept on her hat and her glasses. She wasn’t even yelling and swearing, which had to be hard for her. Instead, she opened the Tesla’s door, started it up, and sped off. The paps scattered to follow her, and the parking lot was quickly deserted.
Even so, Sofia used her Brandi-walk all the way to the motorcycle. It was a Harley with high handlebars, red and wicked looking. The bike was more powerful than anything she had trained on, and her heart sped up just looking at it. It wanted her to ride it. It wanted to go fast.
B is for Bad Girls (Malibu Mystery Book 2) Page 16
