Insidious

by Catherine Coulter

  Gloria looked up at a scruffy-looking man in tight jeans and a Lakers T-shirt faded from too many washes, wearing ancient sneakers with no socks on his big feet. “Yeah, I remember you. I couldn’t leave town, but your call sent me right out to buy a .22. You and the gun saved my life.” Arturo heard only a slight tremor in her voice. She was trying to keep it together.

  He straddled a kitchen chair, crossed his arms over the back, and scooted it close to her. He studied her a moment. She was gorgeous, young, and she looked exhausted, crashing from the adrenaline high, but she was trying to be tough, and Arturo liked that. “I like cats,” he said, and nodded at her red-and-white cat-covered pj’s.

  She blinked, swallowed, and he saw a ghost of a smile. “I do, too. I had to leave Lola at home with my parents.”

  “My tabby’s a bruiser named Hank, jumps on my chest when he wants me to get up.”

  She stared at him. “His name’s Hank?”

  Arturo smiled, studied her amazing face. “Hank and I live only a quarter of a mile away, that’s how I got here so fast. When you’re ready, tell me what happened.”

  She’d rehearsed it, he realized, like a part, and so her recounting was straightforward and precise. “It seemed like he was standing over my bed forever, but I knew it had to be only a couple of seconds. It was the weirdest thing, but I was frozen, couldn’t move. Then we both heard the sirens and he jerked up and everything inside me broke open, and I emptied my gun at him. A minute later I heard two officers banging on the front door, yelling at the top of their lungs, to scare him, I guess, if he was still here. But he wasn’t. I told them he’d probably jumped out the window. I might have shot him, I don’t know. They immediately went after him, but I guess they never saw him, and then you were here.”

  Arturo waited a moment, but she said nothing more. He saw her swallow, fist her hands. He said calmly, “There are a lot of us here now, looking for him. They’ll be speaking to neighbors, checking garages, any empty houses. If he’s still around, they’ll find him.” He pulled her empty .22 out of his jacket pocket.

  “You’d have to be really lucky if you hit him. This is a crap gun.”

  She raised dark brown eyes to his face, her pupils still dilated. “I know, but it’s all I could get. I thought I was a good shot. I really did my best to hit him.”

  She sounded disappointed. Excellent, more power to her. He watched her walk to the sink to get a glass of water, noticed her long legs that probably brought her height to his forehead. She filled a glass, looked at it and set it on the counter. He said to her back, “Even I couldn’t have hit him with this sorry excuse for a gun unless I was nearly on top of him. You were scared, too, and the adrenaline rush makes you shake. How far away was he when you shot at him?”

  “I was behind my big velvet chair, and he was standing by the bed, maybe ten, fifteen feet.” She walked to the fridge and pulled out a nearly empty bottle of champagne, pulled the cork out with her teeth and chugged the last of it down. He couldn’t help the grin when she swiped her hand across her face. “What chance is there you’re going to catch this guy, Detective?”

  “Depends on whether you hit him, and whether he’s still anywhere near. Not much champagne left. What happened to the rest?”

  She tossed the champagne bottle in the trash can beneath the sink and came back over and sat down. She gave him a huge smile and told him the role she’d won as Detective Belle DeWitt. “So I was a little buzzed when I went to bed, thanks to the rest of the champagne. I read Vanity Fair for a while, then fell asleep.” She stopped cold, swallowed.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know whether to tell you this because it sounds so unbelievable, but I heard a voice yelling at me to wake up.” Her voice fell away and she searched his face. “You think I’m nuts, don’t you?”

  “Did you recognize the voice?”

  “Look, I know it had to be a dream, no other explanation, but the voice was Deborah’s voice. Deborah Connelly’s.” Her chin went up, daring him to call her crazy, but Arturo said, “It was only a matter of seconds before you heard him coming in the window in the second bedroom, right?”

  He watched her push a hank of hair behind her ear. “Yes. You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”

  “Nah, you’re not the least bit crazy.” Arturo stood up. “You did good. You’re alive.”

  She cursed, full-bodied curses, then, “You don’t think I hit him, do you?”

  Arturo was charmed. He hadn’t heard a fine ripe curse from a woman since his ex-wife. “They haven’t found blood anywhere yet, no blood trail. Maybe they’ll have more luck in the morning. So you knew Deborah Connelly?”

  “Yes, and Doc. Not all that well, but well enough.” She ran her tongue over her lips. “I didn’t want to die like she did.”

  He rose, lightly laid his hand on her shoulder. “Ms. Swanson, I don’t think I’ll arrest you for firing an illegally obtained firearm. Your .22 will have to go in my report and into evidence, but I don’t think you’ll be hearing from the D.A.”

  She rose and shook his hand. “In that case, you can call me Gloria.”

  A black eyebrow went up. “Gloria. Gloria Swanson.”

  “The new and updated version. One of these days I’m going to be famous and you’ll tell everyone how you met me.”

  Arturo turned at the sound of voices to see Cam and Daniel in the kitchen doorway. “Come in, guys, and let me introduce you to Gloria Swanson.”

  Cam shook Gloria’s hand. “Ms. Swanson, I’m delighted to meet you. You’re alive and well and that pleases me more than you know. I know you’ve already been talking to Detective Loomis, but we need to hear it all, too. Arturo, if you could stay, break in if you think of more questions?”

  Arturo raised his hand in the middle of her second recital of what had occurred. “I’m not clear about something. When did you call 911?”

  “Sorry, I forgot. I’d practiced each step I’d take if he broke in, but then I forgot my cell. I crawled back to my night table to get it, and called 911.” She swallowed. “It was only a couple of minutes before he opened the bedroom door.”

  Daniel said, “One more time. Can you describe him?”

  “It was really dark, but from what I could make out, he wasn’t that young, like in his twenties, more like he was thirties or forties. I couldn’t see his face with his goggles, and I can’t tell you his hair color because the watch cap was pulled low. It was dark, too, like his clothes. He was on the tall side, at least six feet, I’d say, and lean. As soon as I started firing, he ran, fast.”

  Cam said, “Gloria, we’ve been searching for a connection among the women the Serial has chosen to attack. As you know they’ve all been actresses about your age. Have you been offered any important roles lately? Or competed in any auditions?”

  Gloria grinned hugely at Arturo. “Yes, I won a huge role just today. I told Detective Loomis about it.”

  “And she’s been celebrating with champagne,” Arturo added.

  When Gloria had told her and Daniel all about the role of Detective Belle DeWitt in Hard Line, Cam said, “Congratulations. Gloria, I know it takes a lot of talent and grit and luck to score a part like that. I’m sure you agree it often helps if you know people in the business, people who are willing to use their influence on your behalf. Did anyone in the business help you score that role in Hard Line?”

  “Yes,” Gloria said readily, “I know one of the producers of the show.”

  “What’s his name?” Daniel asked.

  “Theo Markham, he’s big-time TV and movies. Strange, but he was helping Connie Morrissey before she was killed.” Gloria shrugged. “I’m sure there were other girls he’s helped. And there’ll be girls after me. And who knows? Maybe there are more right now. Theo’s a busy guy.”

  How long did he wait before he went scouting for Connie’s replacement? “How did you meet Markham?” Daniel asked.

  “I’m a waitress at Burgundy’s in Beverly Hills, well, not
anymore. I’m giving my notice tomorrow. I knew who he was when he came in for lunch one day and made certain he sat at one of my tables. I gave him great service, made sure he noticed me.” She shrugged. “He called me two days later and we had dinner.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  Gloria cocked her head at him. “Maybe three weeks.”

  “Did he ever talk about Connie Morrissey?”

  “No. I’ve got to tell you, I was glad of it.”

  Cam said matter-of-factly, “You’re sleeping with him?”

  She gave them a smile. “He wouldn’t want me to say. Truth is, I owe him big-time. He’s changed my life.”

  Sex, Daniel thought, the currency in Hollywood.

  All of them realized the well was dry. Cam said, “Where does your family live, Gloria?”

  “In Toledo, Ohio. But I don’t want them to know about this, not yet. They’d want to come out here or beg me to come home and stay with them. No, not yet.”

  “For now,” Cam continued, “the press will know only that there was a break-in with shots fired, and no one hurt. You’ll have a little time to tell your parents yourself, but not much. This is going to be a very big story when it breaks. Maybe going to visit your parents isn’t such a bad idea.”

  Gloria was shaking her head. “Really, I can’t. You don’t know my relatives.”

  “You know your condo is now a crime scene. You can’t stay here tonight.”

  “I’ve got some friends who’ll put me up.”

  “No, that might be dangerous,” Arturo said. “We don’t know who the Serial is or where he is, or why he picked you this time, or whether he’ll try again. He’s never failed before. Hey, you could stay at the police station, in one of the holding cells.”

  Gloria gave him a look. “If there’s no attached bathroom, you can hang that one up, Detective. But you can give me back my .22.”

  Before Arturo could offer his own house for her to stay at, Cam said, “Tell you what, you and I still have a lot to talk about. I’m staying with a friend of mine, Missy Devereaux, in Malibu, not far from the Colony. She’s an actress, too. I’ll check with her, but I’m sure she won’t mind. Go ahead and pack a bag, and don’t forget to bring your laptop and your cell phone. We can put you up until we get a better handle on this.”

  “I wish you’d said until you caught him.”

  Cam smiled. “I’ll say it now. Come stay with Missy and me until we catch him.”

  Gloria smiled back and headed for her bedroom. “Missy Devereaux,” she called back to the group in the kitchen. “I think I’ve lost a couple of auditions to her.”

  51

  * * *

  MISSY’S COTTAGE

  MALIBU

  FRIDAY MORNING

  Missy stood in the kitchen doorway, hands on her hips, wearing shorts, a tight orange tank top, and sneakers on her bare feet. Her hair was tousled all over her head and she looked about eighteen. Daniel swallowed.

  “Gloria’s already over at Cam’s parents’ place. When Cam told her who they were Gloria nearly frothed at the mouth she was so excited to meet them.”

  She poured Daniel a glass of orange juice. “You look tired. Drink up, it’ll make you feel better.” When he set the empty glass on the counter, Missy said, “What Gloria must have gone through—” She shuddered, then straightened, took a wide-legged stance and tried to look tough. “I wouldn’t have fallen apart, either. Maybe I should get a gun like Gloria did.”

  Over my dead body. But Daniel wasn’t stupid. “There are now three of you in the house, and that includes an FBI agent. You’re safe.”

  Missy said, “Yeah, I know, you’re afraid I’d shoot Blinker if he showed up again.”

  That isn’t such a bad idea, but he said, “Another reason you shouldn’t have one.”

  But Missy had moved on. “None of us could go back to sleep when Cam brought Gloria over, so the three of us went over Gloria’s emails and I showed her my records, and we studied hers. You want to know what I think? The connections to Markham have got to mean something. I got to thinking I’d be pretty good at this gathering evidence thing, using my deductive reasoning on the facts I’ve gathered, and nailing a perp. That’s what you call the criminal, right? The perp?”

  “That’s what they call the criminal on TV,” Daniel said, watching her pick up the coffeepot, examine the remains, and set about to make a fresh pot.

  She got the coffee going, turned back. “It’s too bad I can’t be a cop like you, Daniel, but seeing as how I like acting and I’m going to be a rich and famous star, it’s not to be.”

  Daniel raised his eyes to the kitchen ceiling and moved his lips.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m thanking the power above that all is as it should be. The thought of you roaming the streets toting a gun and looking gorgeous makes my heart seize. Rich sounds good, though.”

  “You really think I’m gorgeous?”

  Daniel slowly lowered his coffee cup to the table. “Well, yeah, you’re okay, sure you are.”

  “Hmm. Why would your heart seize?”

  “It’s a condition of the men in our family. We see a woman with a gun and we’re goners.” He saluted her with his dinosaur mug. He heard Cam in the living room speaking on her cell. Good, she was here, he had some news for her.

  He breathed in the smell of Missy’s delicious coffee. “Has Blinker stayed away since Thursday morning?”

  “I saw the bozo yesterday at the library, pretending to read a book. I caught a glimpse, it was Pride and Prejudice.” She shook her head. “Isn’t that a joke? That moron a Jane Austen fan? He acted all surprised to see me and I ignored him. He followed me out, but he did keep his distance.”

  “You’re messing with my heart again, Missy. You’ve got Cam here and Gloria.” He saw immediately it was the wrong thing to say. “If I were Blinker I’d already be afraid of you.”

  She preened. “He should be, the little putz. Isn’t there anything more you can do, Daniel?”

  Yeah, I could tell him I’ll beat the crap out of him if he doesn’t stay a hundred miles away from you. “Let me think about it. And let me know if you see him again.” He looked toward Cam, who stood frowning in the kitchen doorway.

  “That was LAPD forensics on the phone. Six bullet holes and a broken window, but no blood anywhere, no tracks.”

  Daniel saluted her with his mug. “Come on, Wittier, all is not lost. Let me cheer you up. Remember your parents mentioned how excited Connie Morrissey was about an audition she was scheduled for right before her murder? I phoned her agent, William Burley, at Gush. He remembered the role—are you ready for this? It was the female lead in The Crown Prince.”

  Missy said, “And Theo Markham is the producer.”

  “Correct,” Daniel said. “Burley said Markham’s assistant called him, told him the audition was a formality. The role was Connie’s.”

  “Same role Deborah had when she was killed. Now that can’t be a coincidence.” Missy danced to Daniel, threw her arms around him and gave him a loud smacking kiss. She pulled back, grinning. “Well done, Kemosabe. Isn’t he something, Cam?”

  Cam was staring at Daniel. “I wonder why Mr. Markham didn’t mention that nugget when we talked with him? Why would he not want us to know? I mean, why would we think he’d be involved in killing off actresses after giving them roles in his own movies? It makes no sense.”

  Daniel said, “What if Connie threatened to kiss him off if he didn’t give her the role? What if she infuriated him somehow and he killed her, using the other murders as cover?”

  Cam took a drink of coffee, frowned and stuck it in the microwave, punched in thirty seconds.

  “Cam? That’s Daniel’s coffee. Let me pour some for you, in your Princess Elsa mug.”

  “What? Oh, I’m sorry, Daniel.”

  “Not a problem, you’re warming it up for me.”

  Missy said, “It’s disgusting that Theo Markham is already sleeping with a
nother actress. But, Daniel, I don’t think he murdered Connie. He paid her rent, introduced her to producers, and the way she talked about him, I think she really cared about him, and he cared about her. She wouldn’t have threatened to leave him if he didn’t give her a role.” She paused, then said, “You don’t think he tried to murder Gloria, too, do you, guys? I simply can’t see Mr. Markham creeping around at midnight killing actresses in their sleep. That’d make him a psychopath, seriously over-the-edge crazy.”

  Daniel said, “We can’t exclude him, Missy. He has alibis for four of the six killings, but the four have huge holes in them. Even though there’s no record of his flying to Las Vegas to kill Molly Harbinger, commercial or private, he could have easily driven.”

  “Before you go,” Missy said, “I forgot to tell you that Doc called a few minutes before Daniel got here. He wanted to discuss Deborah’s funeral arrangements. He wanted me to ask you when the medical examiner will release her”—Missy swallowed—“her body.”

  “You can tell him Monday. They have more tests, and the M.E. wants to go over the autopsy findings again.”

  Missy said, “Poor Doc, it’s so hard on him. He’s such a mess.”

  There was a knock on Missy’s door. Daniel’s hand automatically went to his Beretta, but he smiled when Arturo’s voice sounded out. “Hey, anybody home?”

  “Come on in,” Missy called back.

  When Arturo strolled into the living room, Daniel said, “I expected you to be at the station or at the hospital. What brings you here?”

  “I have something for you, but first, where’s Gloria? I wanted to see if she remembers more about last night. Is she around?” He looked at Missy. “Are you Missy Devereaux?”

  Missy stepped up, shook his hand. “Yes, I am, and, I might add, a future star. You’re Detective Loomis?” At his nod, she continued, “Gloria’s not here, she’s at Cam’s parents’ house in the Colony.”

  Cam said, “She was having such a good time with them, I left her there for the morning. We can all go over there later, maybe have some lunch.”