Hollywood Homicide: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller

by M. Z. Kelly

  Taft didn’t respond. His eyes shifted around the room as Ted said, “You used your company’s equipment to dig his grave.” My partner then lied. “We’ve got a court order to excavate the park and exhume the body.”

  I gave a final yank on the line, hoping to pull the big fish into our boat. “You then came back to Hollywood and murdered Shirley Welch.”

  Our suspect’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, back at us. “Let me take this and I’ll explain everything.”

  Taft left us and walked into an adjacent room. I thought about following him, but decided to give him a minute. It was obvious that what we’d said had deeply impacted him. I just wasn’t sure how much of a fight our big fish would put up. A moment later, I knew we had our fish firmly on the line.

  We heard a door slam and realized that Taft had gone into a guest bedroom that was down the hall from his office.

  Bernie came up off the floor as we went down the hall and over to the door. It was locked. “Mr. Taft, we need you to open the door so we can talk,” I said.

  We heard muffled cries, and then Taft saying, “The bastard was a user who got what he deserved.”

  I looked at Ted before trying the lock again. “You were in love with him but he was continuing to see Shirley.”

  There was more crying before he went on, “It was supposed to be our week alone together but he brought her. They both got what they deserved.”

  I gave voice to what I’d pieced together. “You killed Russell and when you came back to Los Angeles to get the equipment to bury him you also killed Shirley.”

  His sobbing continued, harder now as his desperation became apparent. “There was no way I was going to let her have him. We were in love…”

  A single gunshot rang out. Bernie was on alert as Ted kicked open the door. We found Jefferson Taft in his lavishly furnished guest room. The founder of Family First, the man who had murdered Russell Van Drake and Shirley Welch, was sitting upright on the bed with most of his brains splattered on the wall behind him.

  SIXTY NINE

  I spent the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening at the Jefferson Taft suicide scene. Ted and I used part of that time to work with the Santa Barbara Police Department, arranging for a warrant to search the park adjacent to the Marisol Hotel for Van Drake’s body.

  “I guess it was a matter of time before Van Drake’s affairs finally caught up with him,” Ted said late in the day, after informing me that the warrant had come through.

  I agreed with him and said, “It looks like Taft’s, so-called, family values didn’t preclude a double murder.” I shook my head in disgust. “His entire life was a lie.”

  I happened to glance over at a clock on the wall in the family room and realized I was late for the counseling session I’d set up for Lindsay and me. “I just realized I have an appointment. Would you mind finishing up here?”

  “See you in the morning. I’ve got things set up for the search in Montecito.”

  “Nothing like spending your day looking for a body in a cemetery.”

  ***

  I was five minutes late for my meeting with Beverly Chan. I apologized to the psychiatrist as Bernie settled into a corner of her office.

  “My sister should be here any minute,” I said, after taking a seat across from her. “She’s stuck in traffic.” I’d previously told her that Lindsay would be coming by.

  We chatted for a moment before Dr. Chan asked, “So how have things been going with your mom since we last talked?”

  I took a minute and filled her in. “Things weren’t getting any better so I moved out a couple of days ago. I think Mom’s happy I’m gone. She didn’t want me sharing space with her and her boyfriend.”

  “I think that was a wise move. As we discussed before, your mother is decompensating behind the decisions she made years ago that recently came to light.”

  “You mean about not telling me about my birthmother?”

  “While she may have had the best of intentions, it was the wrong decision for the both of you. And, until she accepts that, all you can do is occasionally reassure her that you love her and are there for her.” Her eyes held on me. “In the meantime, you can’t fix her or make her see the truth. It’s out of your hands.”

  I nodded, processing what she’d said. It was reassuring to hear someone both supporting the way I felt and telling me that, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t change what was happening to my mother. Her words again made it feel as though a heavy burden had been lifted. While we waited for Lindsay, there was something else that I realized I needed to discuss with the therapist.

  “When we talked before, I mentioned that I was seeing a man named Buck McCade. He’s called me a couple of times and wants to continue our relationship.”

  Dr. Chan’s brows lifted. “And you’re not sure about that.”

  I nodded. “His ex-wife has some mental health issues. I think she was following me when Buck and I were together. She even showed up at a ceremony to honor my father at the police department.” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. “The truth is, I think I was beginning to fall in love with Buck…but after everything that happened…I’m not sure about what to do.”

  There were tears in my eyes. I found a tissue from the dispenser on the desk.

  After Dr. Chan gave me a moment she said, “I’m going to tell you something that will be difficult for you to hear.” She gave me a moment to dry my eyes before continuing. “I think that you’ve been looking for a relationship to complete you when the truth is no one can complete you. You are already beautiful, strong, and complete, you just need to grieve the losses that you’ve suffered and begin to heal.”

  I brushed a tear, nodding as she continued, “This might sound strange to you but when a relationship is at its best, it works because there’s no expectation of getting anything in return. We give ourselves freely, without any hope of gain or benefit, and we do that out of love not in an attempt to fill up an emptiness that’s inside of us.”

  Dr. Chan gave me another moment and then continued, her manner and words radiating a gentle kindness that brought tears to my eyes again. “That’s the true relationship that you’ve been looking for, Kate. And when you’re ready and open to it, it will find you. Until that happens, you can’t fill up the void in your life by trying to fix your mother or going from one relationship to another, especially one that poses a danger to you.”

  I was still drying my eyes and trying to process what she’d said when Lindsay arrived. I composed myself and made introductions.

  After Lindsay took a seat, I said to her, “The last time Dr. Chan and I talked, I filled her in on our background, about…” I took a moment, trying to keep my voice even. “I told her exactly what happened, how your father killed my dad, stalked me, and how you saved my life.”

  Lindsay nodded. Her gaze fell away from me but then went over to Dr. Chan. “I killed my own father.” I saw there were tears in her eyes.

  Dr. Chan gave us both a few moments. Lindsay and I collapsed into one another’s arms, crying for the losses that we’d both suffered. Maybe it was being in front of a therapist and Lindsay saying what happened aloud, but the emotion unleashed by what she’d said was overpowering.

  When we’d regained some of our composure, Dr. Chan said to Lindsay, “You and your sister have both been victimized through loss. Nothing that happened is your fault, but you’re both in need of time to grieve and heal from everything.”

  Lindsay wept again, brushed her tears away, and looked at the psychiatrist. “You don’t understand.” Her gaze came over to me. “There’s something I haven’t told anyone about.”

  I reached over and took Lindsay’s hand. “Tell me, sweetheart. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with this together.”

  The sister, the young woman who I never knew existed until a few weeks ago, brushed her tears again and drew in a long breath. She met my eyes and said, “My father, he…he took something from me.”

  I le
aned over, tearing up again, and squeezed her hand. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

  A garbled cry escaped from Lindsay’s throat and she cried, “He molested me.”

  SEVENTY

  Ted, Bernie, and I drove to Butterfly Park in Montecito at nine the next morning. Lieutenant Conrad was happy with our progress on the case and had allowed us to bring Selfie and Molly along who were following in a car behind us. I hadn’t said much during the drive, still processing what Lindsay had told me last night, something that Ted noticed.

  “You seem a little down today. Everything okay?”

  I found his eyes and exhaled. I saw no reason not to tell him what happened and decided it might help to talk about it. “Last night I went back to that therapist that I’d tried to get my mom to see. Since Mom refused to go, I took my sister.” Ted glanced over and nodded as he drove. “During the session Lindsay told us that her father molested her.”

  Ted’s soft eyes found me again. “I’m sorry. Isn’t he the guy…”

  “She killed him to save my life.” I raked a hand through my damp hair. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I hate him.” I found his eyes again. “I promised myself never to say his name again.” I took a moment and then added, “He killed my father, my birthmother, destroyed my relationship with my adoptive mother, and now this.” I brushed a tear. “It’s just so wrong.”

  Ted turned off the freeway in Montecito. “Your sis is going to need lots of therapy and help behind everything that happened to her.”

  I nodded. “I asked her to move in with me again but she likes having her own place. I’m going to make it a priority to be more involved in her life.”

  What I didn’t tell my partner was that Lindsay and her boyfriend, Eli, had broken up. She said he’d tried to help her through everything that had happened with her father, but thought it was too much for him to handle. I’d made arrangements for Lindsay to see Dr. Chan again before last night’s session ended.

  We saw there were a couple of police cars and some heavy equipment at the side of the road when we got to Butterfly Park. The morning was cool, with a blanket of fog hovering a few yards offshore. Selfie and Molly joined us, before Steve Hawking, a Santa Barbara PD sergeant, met up with us at the edge of the park.

  After introductions, Hawking’s eyes surveyed the rolling parcel that bordered a road on one side and the ocean on the other. “Lots of ground to cover. Not sure where we should even start.”

  “Molly and I think we’ve got an idea,” Selfie said, speaking up after we’d agreed it was like looking for a needle in a very large haystack. “The best place to hide something is in plain sight.”

  “What have you got in mind?” I asked.

  Molly’s already rosy cheeks flushed with excitement. She brushed her red hair back with one hand and said, “We did some checking with the local planning department. No permits were ever pulled for the bench or gazebo at the far end of the park. We also pulled up a couple of overhead shots of the park from the Internet.” She pulled some printouts out of her satchel and placed them on the hood of the car.

  Selfie took over again, referencing one of the photographs. “Here’s a shot of the park taken in 2006. As you can see the gazebo wasn’t there at that time.”

  “But the overhead from 2011 clearly shows it,” Molly said, showing us the most recent photograph.

  “You think Russell Van Drake is under the gazebo,” Ted said, scratching his big head. “It sounds like something out of an old movie.”

  “The Gazebo, starring Glenn Ford,” Selfie said with a grin. “I’m an old movie buff.”

  “Maybe Jefferson Taft was too,” I said.

  “Be a shame to tear the thing down if the body’s not there,” Sergeant Hawking said.

  I looked at him. “It was built without permits. That makes it illegal, anyway.” I looked over at Selfie and Molly who were smiling in a way that reminded me of Natalie and Mo. I turned back to Ted and Hawking. “Let’s tear it down.”

  The demolition of the small gazebo at the edge of the park took less than an hour. After the wooden structure was pushed aside, the equipment operator used his backhoe to lift the cement foundation. Ted had been watching the operation closely and called us over.

  He pointed out what he’d found to me, Selfie, and Molly. “There’s a plastic tarp beneath the foundation.”

  Ted then went over and used a knife to cut away the covering. He announced his discovery with a grin after a few minutes, looking up at Selfie and Molly, “Looks like you two just earned your junior detective badges. It’s a body.”

  After high-fives and celebrations all around, Sergeant Hawking called the local medical examiner’s office. There was lots of decomposition and we knew it would probably take some time to confirm that the body was Van Drake’s.

  As we were packing up our equipment to leave, my phone rang. It was Pearce Landon.

  “I wondered if you’d left town,” I said, after I realized it was our wanted suspect.

  “I’ve been in Arizona for a couple of days at a place called The Pantry. It’s an upscale resort hotel.” I made the connection as he added, “It’s the place Scarlett talked about in her unfinished letter.”

  I walked away from Ted and the others who were still excited about our find. I was angry with myself that we hadn’t found out about the resort. “I’m listening.”

  “Scarlett stayed at The Pantry over labor day of last year. I talked to a bartender there who told me that she was staying there with Donny Kessler.”

  “She was still involved with him at the time, so that would fit.”

  Landon went on, “Someone else came along on the trip with them. The bartender didn’t have a name. He described her as being small in stature, attractive, and blonde. He said she and Scarlett spent a lot of time by the pool.”

  “It sounds like she might have been Lauren Hayden,” I said, realizing the description fit her. “She was Scarlett’s best friend.”

  “Some friend,” Landon said. He paused for a moment before going on. “When Scarlett’s back was turned, the bartender said that she and Donny were having sex.”

  SEVENTY ONE

  When we got back to Hollywood Station, Ted and I met with Lieutenant Conrad in his office. Bernie sat at my side as we gave him an update on our findings in Montecito.

  “As soon as the M.E. confirms that it’s Van Drake I need to know about it,” Conrad barked. “The brass wants the press to know that Section One broke the case.”

  As Ted went on, giving him some additional details, I wondered what was happening with the department’s investigation of our lieutenant. I’d talked to Mo late last night and she’d confirmed that Conrad had been spending a lot of his spare time at the Marquee Manor. She’d promised to call Captain Dembowski and give him all the details. I still found it hard to believe that our lieutenant was involved in prostitution, but, if that was the case, I had little sympathy for him.

  “So, you got another call from Pearce Landon,” the lieutenant said to me, after he’d listened to what Ted had to say. “You two becoming best friends?”

  I was annoyed and didn’t try to hide it. “As I’ve said before, Landon wants to prove his innocence. It has nothing to do with me.”

  “What exactly did he say?”

  Even though I’d already called him with a summary of what Landon had said about Scarlett going to the resort and her boyfriend hooking up with her best friend during the trip, I went over it once again in detail.

  “So our murder suspect finds the hotel our victim stayed at when you two couldn’t,” Conrad said, shaking his head in disapproval.

  I had no defense for what he’d said and kept quiet. Ted gave him a weak excuse, telling the lieutenant that we’d made a wrong assumption that The Pantry was a local restaurant.

  “You want to stay in Section One, you both have to do better,” Conrad bellowed.

  “We just broke the Van Drake homicide, a case that had
been cold for three years,” I said in our defense, still angry about his accusations.

  “Not good enough. We break every case and we damn well better do it before our murder suspect does.”

  “We plan on interviewing Donny Kessler again this afternoon,” Ted said, going back to the Endicott case. “He denied knowing Lauren Hayden when we talked to him before. I think we’re close to shaking something loose.”

  Conrad shook his head. “Belmont and Hardy are already headed over there to talk to him.”

  My blood pressure went to the moon. “I thought they’d caught another case. I don’t understand…”

  “They already broke it,” Conrad said. “You two can try and locate Hayden, if Landon hasn’t already beat you to it.”

  I leaned forward and said, “You are an arrogant little asshole who couldn’t supervise a pack of rats in a cheese factory, not to mention you’re screwing prostitutes while your detectives are out working their butts off.” Okay, so my imagination was taking over again. Instead, I just sat there, turned red with anger, and kept my big mouth shut for a change.

  As Ted and I walked to our car in the parking lot I ran into Harvey. He was without his partner and stopped me for a moment.

  “I’m withdrawing the complaint,” Harvey said. “I told personnel that Jessica blew everything out of proportion and there was no harassment.”

  I met his eyes. “I appreciate that. Why the change of heart?”

  “You’re right about Jessica. She’s a bully and I’m not going to let her manipulate me anymore.”

  Even though I was happy about what Harvey had told me, when Ted and I were in our car my anger over the lieutenant’s comments boiled over again. I told my partner exactly what I thought of Conrad, using my former lieutenant’s favorite word that started with the letter F.

  I then added, “I’ve seen a lot of arrogant idiots in my life, but he’s at the top of the heap. I don’t know how much more I can take.”