Hollywood Rage

by M. Z. Kelly

  We stopped in the parking lot where Darby and Woody were waiting for us after finishing up their debriefing with the investigators in Santa Barbara. I let Bernie sniff a flowerbed as Olivia took a couple minutes updating them on our case and the possible involvement of David Baxter.

  “You ask me, Ellis is still our principle,” Darby said. “We have no doubt that Yates and Mathias were behind the murder of our victims’ parents.”

  “That might be true,” I said, coming over to them, “but it doesn’t necessarily explain the deaths of Mel or Marilyn, or how the weapon got from our property room to Mel’s house.”

  “Like I said before, maybe Ellis bought it off someone.”

  “Let’s not get into a debate,” Olivia said. “Let’s see if we can find someone in charge and take a look around here.”

  After talking to a couple volunteers in the visitors center, we met with the head ranger, Graham Hays, in the offices of the National Park Service. Hays, who was in his late fifties, with a gray beard, said he’d only worked at the ranch for the past year. He then told us what he knew about Julie Yates.

  “She’s worked here part-time, off and on, for a few months. Attractive gal, who had lots of admirers.”

  Olivia showed him a mug shot of Jackson Ellis. “You ever see him around here?”

  Hays ran a hand through his beard as he studied the photograph. “Yeah, I think so, maybe once or twice.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  After more beard work, he handed the mug shot back. “Maybe two, three weeks. I got the impression he and Julie were friends, or maybe more than friends. What’s he wanted for?”

  “We just need to talk to him.” Olivia’s gaze moved over the grounds of the ranch for a moment. “Where did Ms. Yates live when she worked here?”

  “The dormitory,” Hays said, pointing to a large Spanish building across the grounds. “Our workers live there when they’re on duty.”

  “Can you show us her room?”

  “’Course.”

  As Hays led us across the grounds, we learned that the dormitory not only housed park employees, but university students who were visiting the area. After making our way over to the building, Hays gave us information about where Yates’ room was located. We had him wait downstairs while we cleared the room, finding no sign of our suspect.

  “Wild goose chase,” Darby complained as we left the room and headed back downstairs.

  “There’s a lot of other buildings onsite,” Woody said. “Maybe Ellis is hiding out somewhere else.”

  While Darby went on another rant about us wasting our time, Olivia and I left him and walked back over to Graham Hays. After telling the ranger we found no sign of our suspect, Olivia said, “Tell me something. If you were going to hide out somewhere on the grounds, where would you go?”

  Hays didn’t hesitate in answering, pointing out the window to a building across the meadow. “The Biggest Loser was filmed over there. Building’s been vacant for...can’t exactly say how long, but it hasn’t been used in at least a couple years.”

  We thanked him and made our way over to the vacant building. It was similar to the other structures, with nothing to indicate it had been used for the TV show. Olivia tried the front door but found it locked.

  “Let’s give it up,” Darby said. “Yates is dead, and Lazarus is probably on the run.”

  “There’s a side door,” Woody said, calling us over. We realized he’d gone around to the side of the building. We went over and joined him as he tried the door, finding it unlocked.

  Olivia nodded to him as we drew our weapons and followed him inside. The building was dark, and echoed as we made our way down a corridor. My furry partner was on alert as we checked a couple rooms, finding furniture stacked inside. Then we heard a door close somewhere down the hall.

  “Somebody’s in here,” Olivia whispered. “Maybe there’s another way out.”

  While she and Woody continued down the hall, Darby and I went back outside to check for another exit. That’s when we saw Jackson Ellis sprinting away from the building. He turned, firing a shot in our direction, before moving off again.

  “He’s heading for the woods,” I said to Darby. “Stay alert.”

  Ellis moved quickly, disappearing into a stand of trees. Darby and I were in pursuit when we began to take fire. We hit the ground behind a stand of trees, waiting until the firing stopped.

  “I think he’s moving deeper into the woods,” Darby said. “Let’s go!”

  I followed behind him, but stayed low, keeping Bernie at my side. Releasing my dog and sending him into the woods after an armed suspect wasn’t an option. Darby and I were in a clearing when Ellis stepped out from behind a tree. He dropped his weapon, giving me the impression he might be out of ammunition.

  “Gun!” Darby yelled, training his weapon on Ellis.

  I came up to his side, sensing that he was about to fire. “He’s dropped his weapon. Stand down.”

  Darby reluctantly lowered his weapon slightly, at the same time commanding Ellis to get on the ground. Our suspect complied as Olivia and Woody arrived. I held Bernie back while Woody went over and got Ellis into handcuffs.

  Darby holstered his weapon and came over to Ellis, taking him by the arm. “Let’s go, asshole.”

  I checked Ellis’s weapon, finding it was out of ammunition. Olivia and I then followed behind Darby and our suspect as she said, “You ever think that there’s order to the universe, after all?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  She smiled and lowered her voice. “One asshole finds another, and Jackson Ellis ends up at the Biggest Loser ranch. Somehow it all seems fitting.”

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  We got back to Hollywood Station at mid-afternoon. Olivia and I took Jackson Ellis into an interrogation room while Darby and Woody watched via closed-circuit TV down the hall. I left Bernie with Jenny and Molly, who had spent the afternoon trying to get ahold of David Baxter, without success.

  As Olivia read Ellis his rights, I was struck by his calm demeanor. Our suspect was handsome, with longish dark hair. His large brown eyes and thick lashes gave him an earnest, innocent appearance. He looked nothing like the man we knew had been responsible for over a dozen murders.

  “I’ll talk to you,” Ellis calmly said, smiling at Olivia, “but, first, I’d like to make a statement, if I may.”

  I was seated across the table from our suspect. Olivia glanced at me, then asked Ellis what he wanted to say.

  “I am the prophet of the divine, the fallen one who was resurrected and sent to earth by God to deliver his message to the world. I am the way, the truth, and the light.”

  “I see,” Olivia said, her brows lifting.

  She was probably thinking, like me, that Ellis was mad. It occurred to me that maybe our suspect was setting the stage for an insanity defense.

  Olivia continued. “Let’s talk about your followers.”

  “From what I’ve been told, they were purged from this earth by Julie and Will, and sent to heaven. They are with the Father now.”

  “I’m assuming you’re talking about Julie Yates and William Mathias, and what happened at Camp Tribute.”

  “Of course.”

  “Can you tell me how you sent them to heaven?”

  “Julie and Will were responsible for what happened. I wasn’t present.”

  “According to the medical examiner, your followers were given a lethal combination of cyanide and prescription drugs.”

  Ellis smiled. “If you say so. I have no knowledge of that and am not responsible.”

  It was obvious to us that Ellis’s tactic was to maintain his innocence by stating that his two disciples acted independently of him. It was patently absurd, but he probably realized it was the only defense available to him.

  Olivia spent several minutes, having Ellis give us the names of his followers who he again insisted had been purged by Yates and Mathias. He repeatedly told us they ha
d acted independently of him.

  “Let’s talk about Ron and Barbara Peters,” Olivia said, moving on. “They were murdered by Yates and Mathias.”

  “If that’s the case, they were likely on their list.”

  “What list are you referring to?”

  “Julie and Will made a list of those who rejected my prophecies. I was informed that they passed judgment on the two subjects you mentioned, and eliminated them, but I have no independent knowledge of that fact.”

  “Did their rejection have something to do with them refusing to give you money?”

  “Of course not.”

  “That’s interesting, since Ron Peters told us otherwise,” I said. “He told us you threatened to kill him if he didn’t keep paying you.”

  For the first time since our interview began, Ellis’s calm demeanor wavered. “I didn’t threaten anyone.” He cleared his throat and his smile returned. “Since Mr. Peters is dead, you’ll have a hard time proving anything to the contrary.”

  Olivia drew in a breath and moved on. “What about the Peters’ daughters, Marilyn and Mel?”

  “What about them?”

  “Did you kill them?”

  Ellis’s expression changed again, but this time he seemed perplexed. “Marilyn is dead?”

  “We know she was withdrawing money from her accounts to support you.”

  “Marilyn believed in the cause and helped me out financially, but I certainly didn’t kill her.”

  “Were she and her sister on Yates and Mathias’s list?”

  “Absolutely not. If Marilyn is dead, this is the first I’ve heard about it.”

  I removed a photograph of the Walther P38 and pushed it across the table to him. “This gun was used to kill Marilyn’s sister, Melvina. What can you tell me about it and her death?”

  He glanced at the photo. “Nothing. I’ve never seen this gun before. And, for the record, I had no involvement in her death.”

  We went at Ellis for another hour before he lawyered up and made a final request. “I want to make a statement to the press, proclaiming my innocence and delivering my divine message to the world.”

  Olivia stood. “Save your breath. I’m sure God can find another prophet, whose disciples don’t go around murdering people.”

  After making arrangements to transport Ellis to Men’s Central Jail for booking on multiple counts of murder, Olivia had Section One staff meet in her office. She began by asking Jenny and Molly, “Anything on Baxter?”

  “Nothing,” Molly said. “We contacted his brother, since he works for his PI firm. He said he hasn’t seen him since yesterday, but confidentially told us his brother has a drinking problem and may have fallen off the wagon.”

  “That’s not surprising, considering he reeked of whiskey when we talked to him the other day,” I said.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Darby said. “Ellis will go down for the murders of Mel and Marilyn. It’s just a matter of the DA putting the case together.”

  “Maybe,” Olivia said, “but Ellis seemed surprised when we told him Marilyn was dead, and he denied Yates and Mathias were involved in the death of her or Mel.”

  “So what? The prophet’s a liar, not to mention a cold-blooded killer.”

  “We still have the issue of a weapon taken from our evidence locker and used in the murder of one of our own,” I said. “We’ve got to clear that up.”

  “Ten to one, if you find Baxter, he’ll just say he sold the gun on the streets to an unknown party. We all know how guns get passed around for a few bucks. It’s not like the guy had any motive to murder Mel.”

  “How do you know that? Baxter dated Mel at one time.”

  “You forget, Mel and I were partners. If she had a beef with him, she would have said something.”

  “Just like she told you about her online dating.” I looked at Olivia. “Baxter has to be found.”

  Olivia looked at Molly, ignoring Darby. “Can you call Baxter’s brother back and ask him what watering holes his brother favors? We need to nail down his involvement, or lack thereof, so one way or another we can move on.”

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  When Bernie and I got home that night, we learned from Otto that my friends were doing some security work for their PI firm. I was grateful for the time alone, and, after taking Bernie for a walk, relaxed in the atrium overlooking our back yard. I was thumbing through a magazine when Otto appeared and asked me if I wanted a drink.

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’m still recovering from Natalie’s Royal Flush.”

  He smiled. “Very well.”

  As he turned to leave I said, “Do you have a moment?”

  He came back over. “Of course. How may I be of service?”

  “Why don’t you take a seat for a moment?” He seemed uncomfortable as he sat across from me and I continued. “I did some background checks on you. It’s something that I routinely do, since I’m in law enforcement.”

  He straightened his tie. “I see.”

  “I learned that you were the headmaster of a boy’s school in Massachusetts several years ago, but were dismissed. Can you tell me what happened?”

  Our manservant released a breath and his head slumped forward. “It was an unfortunate circumstance that was entirely my fault. I violated the school rules and was told my services were no longer required.”

  “What rule did you violate?”

  He sighed again. “There was a young man who attended the school. We became close when I began helping him with some of his studies after class. His mother, Clara, and I became friends...” He shook his head. “The truth be told, we were more than friends. We went to the symphony one evening and were seen by the parents of one of the other students. When the board of governors learned about our relationship...” He looked at me. “...I guess you could say I paid the price.”

  “And her son?”

  His eyes became glassy. “I loved Michael like the child I never had.” He paused, blinking several times. “It was...the hardest time of my life.”

  I regarded him for a long moment. “Clara...are you still in touch with her?”

  He took a moment to compose himself. “I’m afraid not. She felt our relationship might compromise her son’s standing at the school, and...” A thin smile found his lips. “It’s been a number of years since I last saw her.”

  “But you still have feelings for her, don’t you?”

  His smile was wistful. “I read something about a broken heart once. It said the scars hold it together and keep it from disintegrating. I’m afraid...” He took a heavy breath. “...I’m living proof it’s true.”

  His pain was palpable, something I could relate to. “Have you ever tried contacting her? I’m sure you could find something about her on the Internet.”

  He shook his head. “I’m what you would call ‘challenged’ when it comes to technical matters. I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to even begin going about something like that.”

  “I would be willing to help.”

  He took a moment before answering. “Thank you, but it’s been so many years. I’m not sure what I would even say to her.”

  “I understand. Think about it and let me know if you would like help finding her one of these days. Maybe...” I smiled, feeling his pain. “...maybe, since Michael is older now, some things have changed. It could be that she still has feelings for you, and I’m sure her son would enjoy hearing from you.”

  He stood. “Thank you for your generous offer. You’re very kind.”

  I spent the rest of the night reading, then watched some television. After getting ready for bed, Otto’s broken heart was still on my mind. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him to have lost his one true love, not to mention his relationship with her son and his own livelihood, in an instant.

  Those thoughts eventually led to Joe. I knew that I needed to make a decision about my relationship with him and be firm about it. I was still thinking about what that decision would be a
s my phone rang. I got my phone off the dresser and saw the call was from Olivia.

  “Care for a nightcap?” Olivia asked.

  “Actually, I was just getting ready for bed.”

  “Sorry to ruin your night, but there’s a bar called Hudson’s over on Remington Street in Boyle Heights. You need to meet me there in half an hour, without Bernie.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I found David Baxter.”

  SIXTY-NINE

  I left Bernie in bed and wrote a note for Otto and my friends, telling them that I was working. Twenty minutes later, I met up with Olivia on the street near Hudson’s Bar. The place was in a working class neighborhood, not far from the office where Baxter and his brother worked.

  “Jenny got in touch with Baxter’s brother this afternoon,” Olivia said. “He mentioned that this dive is his brother’s favorite watering hole. I’ve been watching the place all evening. Baxter’s been here for the better part of an hour.”

  “How do you want to handle this?”

  Olivia’s dark eyes shifted, and I saw there was a marked patrol unit coming down the street.

  “Baxter has a reputation for being a bully when he’s drunk,” she said, “so I thought we could use some backup.”

  After meeting up with the officers and introducing ourselves, the four of us entered the bar. The place reeked of booze and cigarette smoke. I noticed there was a small patio off the main bar for smokers. That’s where we found Baxter.

  When he saw us enter, Baxter raised a shot glass and downed his drink. He growled, “Don’t tell me this is a social call.”

  “We need to ask you a few questions at Hollywood Station,” Olivia said. “These officers will give you a ride.”

  “You got something to talk to me about, ask me right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Olivia exhaled, brushed back her hair. “Last chance. We either do this the easy way, or...”

  Her words were cut off when Baxter suddenly stood up and made a dash for the door. We followed behind as one of the uniformed officers caught up with him and grabbed his arm as he got outside the bar. Baxter took a swing at him, missed, and went down on the sidewalk. It took a couple minutes to get the cursing drunk in handcuffs and in the back of the patrol car.