My phone and Ian’s buzzed simultaneously; we’d each gotten a text.
“What is it?” Nanna said.
“It’s from the LVMPD,” Ian said. “I’m free to leave Vegas if I want, because I’ve got an alibi for Brenna’s death.”
“I got the same one,” I said. “I guess at least some of the crew can go back to LA now and work on other projects if they want to.”
Ian and I chatted with Nanna and Dave a bit more about showbiz, and then, when we finished our food, we all said goodbye.
"We’ll give you a lift home," I said to Nanna, "and after that, we’ll go talk to Bruce. He’s been keeping secrets from us—it’s time to find out what exactly he’s been up to.”
Chapter 27
Ian and I dropped Nanna off at home, and for once, we managed to convince her not to come with us to investigate a case.
I didn't like that Bruce was a blackmailer, and I thought he could be dangerous. Even Ian seemed worried about Nanna encountering a man like Bruce.
The address we'd been given for where Bruce was staying was slightly south of where my parents lived. It was an older estate, and houses here were rather nice. Bruce's address had a nicely manicured lawn out front, and I guessed that there would be a large pool in the backyard.
Our knock was answered by a woman in her late fifties, and when we told her we were looking for Bruce Levine, she nodded and led us through a large foyer to a small, formal sitting room. Dark leather sofas were arranged around a small Persian rug, and an oil painting of stormy seas hung on one wall.
Ian and I waited for five minutes, and then Bruce appeared, his eyes as suspicious as ever, his posture hostile.
"What do you want?" he said.
"We've been trying to talk to you," I said politely. "I wonder if now would be a convenient time?"
Bruce shook his head immediately. "I don't want to talk to you guys."
"We know you were trying to blackmail Dave," Ian said, sounding impatient. "There's no point trying to hide it."
Bruce stared at Ian, and then all hostility fled his countenance.
"How’d you find out?" he asked gruffly, sitting down on one of the sofas opposite us.
"Dave told us," I said. "He said he doesn't intend to pay you, and that you can go public with the information."
Bruce scowled. "I thought he was just trying to scare me off. But if he's told you guys, I suppose he really doesn't care."
"I'm pretty sure he doesn't," Ian said. "He's a completely different man from the guy we first met. I think Brenna's death has really shaken him up."
Bruce leaned back in his sofa and tilted his head backward. "Great. Just great."
"What are you going to do now?" I asked curiously. "Are you really going to go public with the information?"
Bruce looked at me and shook his head sadly. "I don't know. I don't think so–I've never been in this situation before. Usually, when I asked someone to pay up, they do that. Of course, so far, it's been married guys and guys in relationships who were cheating on their partners. I've never really…" He rubbed his forehead and sighed. "This sucks. It’s a tough spot to be in."
"I'm sure it was tougher for Brenna. Especially since you had to kill her." I said.
Bruce looked at me in surprise. "You think I killed Brenna?"
"Didn't you?"
Bruce shook his head slowly. "I barely talked to her on this show."
"On this show? So, you talked to her on the other show she was on, that cooking show."
Bruce laughed shortly. "Sure, but that didn't go well."
"What do you mean?” I shot wildly in the dark. “You and Brenna were trying to blackmail people together, and then she got sick of it."
Bruce smiled thinly. "Is that what you think? You're so off the mark that I can't believe you guys are even private investigators."
The insult stung a bit, but I was glad he thought we were incompetent. That meant he'd be more willing to tell us the truth.
"Why don't you help us out then?" Ian said. "What really happened between you two?"
"Nothing," Bruce said. "She got into Ready, Aim, Cook for the preliminary round, and then she got kicked off immediately. If I remember right, she was a hopeless cook, but not so hopeless that she’d be the show’s joker.
“After the shoot ended, I saw her go and try to talk to Kyle. He listened to her a bit, and then he went off. I knew Kyle was dating someone, and I figured there was something between Brenna and Kyle–I just couldn't put my finger on it. But it's Hollywood, there's always all kinds of affairs going on. So, I thought, Brenna might have gotten kicked off the show, but she was someone to watch."
He paused, and his eyes had a distant, far off look to them. After a few seconds, he went on. "Brenna left the set before I could, but I looked up where she was staying–it was one of the cheapest hotels in LA. So I drove over, and called her room. When she answered, I hung up. After a while, I saw her calling a taxi, and I followed her. She went straight to The Hills."
"The Hills?" I said.
"It's a gated community in LA," Ian supplied. "I found out about it from reading gossip mags. Doesn't that pop star, Megan Best, live there? The one who got busted doing drugs, and then broke up with her producer boyfriend, and hasn't had a single hit since?"
Bruce nodded. "That's the one. That tells you what kind of people live there–has-beens, or people who were never popular enough."
"But it's a gated community, and if a former successful pop star lives there, I'm sure that some successful people live there too."
Bruce shrugged. "I guess so. People with money–not really the biggest stars. Anyway, I followed Brenna's cab there, and then she got through the gate. I had no idea how she got through, but I drove up, and said I was going to a party hosted by John Davis."
"Who’s John Davis?"
"He's a nightclub promoter," said Bruce. "He really was hosting a party that night–he hosts parties almost every night, and everyone knows about it. Maybe that’s how Brenna got in.
“Anyway, I got through, and I followed Brenna's cab. I watched her drive up to Kyle's house. She got out and knocked. I think the housekeeper opened the door, and after a while, I think I saw Kyle show up.
“I can't be sure it was him–it could've been his girlfriend, or anyone else. Anyway, Brenna talked to this person for a few minutes, and then that person disappeared inside and I saw the door close shut. Brenna turned around and got back into the cab. I saw her expression when she was getting in–she looked seriously disappointed."
"She went to Kyle's house?"
Bruce nodded. "I had no idea what was going on. I followed Brenna back to her hotel, and then after a while, I called her room and asked if we could meet.
“She met me in the lobby, and I asked her why she’d gone to Kyle's house. She looked at me, all worried, and asked if Kyle had sent me. I said no, I didn't trust the guy, and I just wanted to know what was going on between them. I thought that might make her trust me and tell me whatever the guy was up to, but she just shook her head. She said she'd gotten the address wrong, and she felt like a fool–and then she stood up and said goodbye."
"That sounds odd," I said. "But maybe she had gotten the address wrong."
"I don't think so," Bruce said. "I didn't believe her story, so the next day, I went to talk to Kyle. I asked him why Brenna had gone to his house. At first, he got really mad, and said that I was working with her, and that we were making up lies to ruin him. I told him I didn't know Brenna from Adam, and that I was just curious. I told him I was going to John Davis’ party that night, and I saw Brenna coming out of his house. I was wondering if they were friends."
I was still having a hard time processing that Kyle had known Brenna before this show. He must've remembered her–and yet, he’d told us he had never seen her before. Why would he hide something like this? He’d seemed so helpful all along, and he'd even been the one who insisted that Dave hire us. I couldn't believe that Kyle had anything to
do with Brenna's death, but clearly, he had a secret he was intent on keeping from us. Unless Bruce was making the whole thing up.
"And what did Kyle say?"
Bruce shook his head. "He looked at me suspiciously and then he said it was a misunderstanding. She was trying to get to someone else's house and had wound up at his door by mistake."
"That doesn't sound likely," Ian said.
Bruce nodded. "It doesn't. I knew he was hiding something, and I kept an eye on him for the next few days, but I didn't notice anything unusual. Like I told you, he had a girlfriend at the time. He didn't seem interested in any of the girls on the show, and he got along with most people. In fact, he wasn't on the set all that often since he was a consultant, not a regular crew member. I dug a bit into his history, but there weren't any scandals or skeletons in his closet."
The three of us sat in silence for a few minutes. Bruce looked exhausted, seemingly tired by remembering what he'd seen, and by the fact that his latest blackmail scheme hadn't gone well.
"None of this makes sense," I said finally. "Kyle even told us that he didn't know anyone on the crew of Zombie Cash Run–including you."
"Kyle and I aren't friendly," Bruce said. "But I'm sure he remembered me."
Ian said, "Sounds like he wants to forget everything that happened on Ready, Aim, Cook."
I shook my head. "This just doesn't make sense, but we won't find out what's happening until we talk to Kyle."
I looked at Bruce suspiciously. I still couldn't rule out his involvement in Brenna’s death, and I said, "How did Brenna react when she saw you on the set of this show?"
Bruce smiled. "At first, she didn't actually remember me. And then I reminded her that I'd asked her why she'd been at Kyle's house. She didn't seem pleased to remember that, but she seemed all normal–she asked me how I liked Vegas, and she told me she's been living here for three years. I didn't really think anything of it."
"Even when she died? You think maybe the cops would be interested to know about what happened between Kyle and Brenna in LA?"
Bruce shook his head. "I was worried about Dave telling people that I was blackmailing him. Besides, I knew something odd had happened between Kyle and Brenna, but it didn't seem anything too serious. Kyle's got a great reputation in LA. He's a real professional dude, and most of the shows he works on get to be big successes. The cooking show was an exception."
"You think Dave's going to tell the cops that you were trying to blackmail him?"
Bruce looked at me, horrified. "I didn’t even think of that! I hope he doesn't do that. What with Brenna's death and everything, it’d be really bad for me."
"Maybe you should have thought of that before you blackmailed him."
"I wasn't doing anything wrong," Bruce protested. "I just–I happened to have some information. And I offered not to tell anyone about it if Dave paid me."
"And you may have had something to do with Brenna's death," I added.
Bruce shook his head. "No, trust me–I hardly even talked to her. I'm just a poor grunt who’s trying to make a few bucks, that's all."
Ian and I exchanged a glance.
Finally, I said, "Maybe you should talk to Dave, and try to persuade him not to tell anyone else you were blackmailing him.”
“You think he’d agree?”
I shrugged. “You’re a good cameraman, and Dave wants this show to succeed. Maybe you two could work something out.”
Chapter 28
Ian and I headed home, and I drove on autopilot, feeling slightly dazed by all of Bruce's revelations.
It was shocking that a blackmailer had existed among the crew, and no one had known; more so, it was shocking that Brenna and Kyle had met before, and Kyle had kept all this a secret.
I parked, and as we got out, Ian said, "I still can't believe Kyle was keeping something so big a secret from us."
"Me neither," I said, as we stepped into the elevator. "I wonder what it's all about."
"And what I don't get is why he would insist that Dave hire us as investigators, if he'd actually been involved in Brenna’s death."
Ian's thoughts echoed mine, and we went straight to my apartment.
"What's the plan now?" Ian said. "Are you going to try to talk to Kyle tonight? Or just wait ‘til tomorrow?"
"My shift’s meant to start at midnight, which means that I'm going to have to sleep ‘til about midday tomorrow. It’ll be afternoon before we talk to Kyle."
"I reckon Dave will go to the cops about this blackmail thing, and if they go to Bruce, they'll find out about Kyle."
"I feel kind of guilty about not telling Ryan."
As though mentioning his name had summoned him, there was a knock on my door. Ian and I both started guiltily, and I headed over to open the door.
I opened it to find Ryan standing on the other side, smiling at me with his smoldering gray eyes. "Missed me?"
"Of course I have," I said. "Ian and I were just talking about you."
Ryan stepped inside, and raised one eyebrow. "Something about the case?"
Ian and I exchanged a look. We must've looked guilty as hell, because Ryan said, "You know, you shouldn't be keeping secrets from the police. Not to mention, your boyfriend."
I sighed. "You would’ve found out anyway. Dave just told us this morning–apparently, the cameraman Bruce has been trying to blackmail him."
"Are you serious?" Ryan's face darkened. "How are we just hearing about this now?"
"I think Dave’s only just come to the conclusion that he'd rather not be blackmailed, he'd rather let people know what was going on."
"And what was going on?"
"Dave was having an affair with Taylor, which is why he got her onto the show."
Ryan shook his head, clearly not happy. "And Dave just decided to tell you this–why?"
I shrugged, irked that Ryan was annoyed by the information, instead of being happy that I was sharing. "I don't know. Like I said, we just found out at lunchtime."
“You said it was this morning."
"Figure of speech."
"So, what was it, this morning, or at lunchtime?”
"Lunchtime. Why does it matter?"
"I'm wondering why he hasn't told the police."
“I’ve already told you, he’s probably just coming to terms with what was happening. Before he talked to us, he probably still hadn't decided what to do."
"And yet, he decided to tell the two of you, instead of coming straight to the police."
I rolled my eyes, unable to contain my exasperation anymore. "So sue me. For some reason, he decided he'd rather talk to me instead of you."
"I need to go see him," Ryan said, "and find out what really happened."
There was no goodbye kiss as Ryan rushed off, and when I shut the door behind him, I turned and glared at Ian. "Can you believe that?"
Ian looked slightly cowed by my anger. "It wasn't entirely his fault–it must be annoying to find out that a PI knows more than you."
"But it wasn’t my fault–I told Ryan soon as I saw him."
"Sure," Ian said, trying to placate me, "but you have to see his perspective. He most likely thinks you've been keeping information from him, or that you used nefarious means to extract the truth out of Dave."
"But I didn't! And he should trust me."
"But you haven't worked together before, so he doesn't know if he can trust you. Besides, you didn't even tell him about Kyle and Brenna."
"I would have–I didn't get a chance to."
Ian must've realized that pointing out what I'd done wrong was just making me angrier, instead of making me seeing Ryan's perspective. So he said, "Sure, you were just going to."
I sighed, feeling as though I hadn’t kept my end of the bargain with Ryan. "Maybe you're right. Anyway, as soon as he talks to Bruce, he’s going to find out about Kyle."
"And maybe Bruce made up the whole thing about Kyle, just to get us to focus our attention somewhere else."
"I need
to take a break from thinking about this case. Do you have any of those chocolate chip cookies left?"
Ian nodded, and we headed over to his apartment, where he made two mugs of coffee, and pulled out the packet of chocolate chip cookies. Snowflake seemed to be in a friendly mood, and I spent some time petting her, and then when the coffee was ready, I devoured three cookies and a mug of coffee Ian had made.
By the time all three cookies were in my tummy, I'd calmed down enough to think about what Ian had said—could we really trust Bruce to be telling the truth about Kyle?
"Bruce said that the housekeeper opened the door to Kyle's house," I said thoughtfully. "I don't want to accuse Kyle of something untrue and get him all hostile. How about I call the housekeeper and talk to her?"
Ian nodded. "Unless you want to wait until you're sure Ryan knows about what's going on?"
I shook my head, no. I was still a bit annoyed at Ryan, and I didn't feel like sitting around doing nothing.
So, I called Kyle’s cell phone, and was relieved when after twelve rings, a female voice said in a British accent, "Kyle Chandlers’ residence. Can I take a message?"
"Is this Margaret?"
"It is. Who is this?"
"This is Tiffany Black, I'm a friend of Kyle’s–I called earlier this morning?"
There was no response from Margaret, so I assumed she'd forgotten about me. I went on, "I'm trying to track down someone for Kyle. And I was thinking, you might be able to help. About nine months ago, a woman visited Kyle's house at night–she had curly brown hair, and she was kind of pretty. Her name was Brenna. I wonder if you remember her?"
There were a few seconds of silence, and then Margaret said, "You say you're a friend of Kyle’s, but I've never heard him mention you."
"I live in Vegas, so Kyle and I don't meet up in person all that often."
"Oh, okay. That makes sense. Let me think…"
There was another few seconds’ silence, and then Margaret said, "You know, I've been working for Kyle for over a year now. When I first started, he told me that he was a popular author, and a few crazy fans might try to show up at his doorstep once in a while. I thought he was bragging, and no readers ever showed up. But then, that night, Brenna showed up. She didn't tell me her name, but it was Brenna?"
Zombie Cash Run in Las Vegas: A Lighthearted Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 12) Page 14
