“I want to know what kind of killer you are,” I said. “Are you cold-blooded, or accidental?”
She pushed her ink black hair from her face. “Jenny was an accident.”
“Start from the beginning.”
“Ben found out I was his father’s mistress. I don’t know who told him.” Her expression hardened. “Was it you?”
“He grew up, Celia. He put the pieces together all by himself. It wasn’t difficult for him.”
“He wanted to meet me.”
“On the night of Jenny’s death?”
“No, a few days before. He came to my house. He was drunk or high on something. He wanted to see where Robert slept with me, wanted to see where his family’s money was going. He was shocked when I told him I wasn’t taking any money from Robert. I told Ben that I loved Robert, but that I also loved my independence. And I never wanted to marry or have children.” Her voice broke.
“You said that to your son.”
“Ben didn’t know that then. He asked if I didn’t worry about his mother’s feelings. I told him she had her relationship with Robert and I had mine.”
The TV grew louder. I could make out two actresses speaking in Spanish.
“He told me he was working in the video business. That his father and mother would be very proud. And then he blurted out what he was really doing. He ranted about how he and Jenny were going to show up all the hypocrites like Robert, like me. Then he tried to kiss me while taking a picture of us on this small video camera. I pushed him away, and he fell on the sofa and passed out.”
“You checked to see what was on the camera?”
She nodded. “I recognized Bella Casa immediately, Jenny Parson with Ryan, and Jenny taunting Beth Woods while she was having sex with her. God, it was a Who’s Who of Hollywood elite. There was no security protection. No password. Anybody could’ve seen the videos. What were they thinking?” Furious, she jumped up and pounded the wall. “Keep it down in there!”
The volume on the TV lowered. Celia leaned against the dresser, hands clasped in front of her. Her face was ragged. “In the morning Ben was frantic when I told him that I wouldn’t let him have the camera back. He became a little boy again, pleading with me, telling me that Jenny was dangerous. That he didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing, that he wanted out. That she and Zackary Logan would kill him if he didn’t have the camera.”
“So you had Ben set up a meeting with Jenny?”
She nodded. “Ben called me from the club. He said Zackary would be driving her home. Jenny had been drinking and was threatening him. If she didn’t get the camera back that night, she would tell Robert. He told me where she lived and to wait in the shadows by the garbage bins in the alley. He would be following them in his car so he could bring Zackary back to the club. When they arrived, Zackary drove Jenny into the garage and parked in her slot. Ben, who had a key, let me in through the side door next to the gates. Keeping us out of view of the security cameras, he guided me to Jenny. She made Zackary get out of her Audi and told me to get in. I slid into the driver’s seat.” She paused, unclasping her hands, then rubbing them over her forehead and into her hair.
“I thought I could talk her out of what she was doing,” she continued. “That was my intention, anyway. But she threatened me. She said if anybody found out about their business, she’d tell them I was a full partner. That I’d let them bring the johns to Bella Casa. She was hysterical, out of control, making all kinds of wild threats, so I shook her. She screamed, and then she started hitting me. That’s when my cell must’ve somehow got turned on.”
“It was Jenny I heard screaming, not you.”
“Yes. You understand, don’t you Diana? I really didn’t have a choice. I had to stop her. I shook her harder and harder until her neck snapped back and her head hit the passenger window. It made an awful sound, a kind of dull crack. I couldn’t believe it had gone that far… .” She sat down on the edge of the bed and buried her head in her hands.
“Oh, Celia,” I murmured.
“It was Zackary Logan who took charge.” She looked up. “He got the key from her purse, and he and Ben went up to her condo and got the bags to put her in. All three of us wrapped her up and carried her out to the bin. Ben kept saying ‘You didn’t have to kill her.’ The boys drove away in Ben’s car, and I walked back to mine and went home.”
“Did you have to kill her?”
“I didn’t mean to. I was trying to protect everyone.”
My long-time friend, the girl I had grown up with, had become a woman who could spend most of her adult life living a lie about her child and her lover, and then lose control and kill someone. Another lie, another person I didn’t really know. The TV was loud again.
She was peering anxiously at me. “What are you thinking about?”
“Remember the night we sat on the side street and you told me how Ben had attacked you in your car in the vacant lot? You were so believable.”
“The essence of what I said about him and me was true. I didn’t plan to kill Jenny. I just saw Ben’s life being destroyed.”
“And yours. And Robert’s.”
“All right, I felt threatened. Everything I had worked so hard for could have been destroyed by this uncaring bitch. I didn’t have a movie star for a mother, Diana. I had to create my own life the way I wanted it, with no help from anybody.”
“If you let people cut in front of you in line, you’ll never get ahead.”
“What?”
“That’s what you said to me when we first met. We were waiting to get in to see one of my mother’s movies. You’re the one who reminded me of it when I was holding frozen peas to your bruised face thinking a man had beat you up.”
“Killing Jenny was an accident.”
“Was Zackary Logan an accident?”
“I didn’t kill him. I swear to God. He called me and said he wanted to meet me at Bella Casa. But I didn’t go.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“No reason, except it’s true.”
“What about Ryan Johns?”
“Robert told me that Parson was a madman. That whoever killed his daughter would face an awful death. He told me he had Leo Heath working on the case, and I remembered him from Bella Casa. I panicked. I assumed Heath knew what had been going on at the house. So I thought if I sent him and Parson the video of Ryan… .”
“He’d be the perfect scapegoat. Except Ryan turned around and gave Parson your name. That bit of irony must’ve stung.”
“It did.”
“How did Ben find out you were his mother?”
“After you called to tell me to leave my house, that I might be in danger, I phoned Ben. If I was going to die, I wanted him to know the truth. And that I killed Jenny for him.”
“You left him with the burden of all that?”
Ignoring my question, she asked “What are you going to do?”
Disgusted, I stood and walked to the door. “You can save yourself. I won’t stop you. But I’m keeping the memory card.”
“You can’t.” She got her feet. “You can’t leave me like this. You know what Parson will do to me. Even if I did mean to kill Jenny, it was to help everyone involved.”
“And now you want the card to bargain with Parson. And you don’t care if he uses it to continue his daughter’s blackmail, even if he hurts everyone you were supposedly trying to help. Christ, Celia. It’s over.”
We stared at each other. Then the TV in the next room suddenly turned up to full volume, filling the tense silence between us. As we glanced toward the booming noise of the chattering Spanish women, the breathless soft sounds of pop, pop, pop splintered the common wall. I lost sight of Celia as I dove for the floor. My gun flew from my hand. The muted gunfire continued. The TV turned off, and the room was quiet. Neither of us moved.
&nbs
p; Seconds later, the motel room door crashed open, and a man stepped over me. My hair had fallen across my face, and I was lying on my right arm. I opened my eyes just enough to see Rubio take the camera from the bed. Rubio … I had forgotten about the son-of-a-bitch. Then I saw Celia on the floor, blood pumping from her chest. He knelt down next to her.
“Gotcha,” he said, like a hunter to a deer.
Then Rubio was beside me. He pushed the hair from my face and we looked at each other. My throat went dry.
He flashed his thick white teeth at me and aimed the gun between my eyes. “Gotcha.”
But another gun went off. His grin froze, then vanished, and he fell heavily to the side. I lifted my head to see what had happened. Celia was on her knees, the Glock in her hand. She smiled at me the same way she had when we were young. Then she dropped the gun and collapsed. The room tilted. I laid my head back down.
“What the fuck?” It was Bruno’s voice.
I felt him standing behind me. Tensing, I lay still.
“Parson’s not going to like this,” Gerald rushed into the room, stopping near Rubio.
I tried not to breathe. I opened my eyes just enough to see him peering inside the camera Rubio had dropped.
Gerald frowned. “There’s no memory card. Maybe the actress has it.”
My need to survive kicked in, my mind began to work. These two men were my one little area of power. Without trying to show any movement, I edged my right hand up between my breasts and pulled the card out, holding it in my palm.
“Is she alive?” Bruno kicked my thigh with his foot.
My body recoiled.
“Yeah, she’s alive.” Now standing in front of me, Bruno grabbed me under my arms. I let myself go limp and heavy as he dragged me up the front of his body to my feet.
His sweat reeked. I went into my madwoman act, except I wasn’t acting. I screamed. I punched and kicked. Moving my right hand down his chest, I slipped the memory card into the handkerchief pocket of his suit jacket and shrieked louder.
“Shut up!” Gerald yelled from behind me.
Then something hard slammed into the back of my skull. I fell to my knees.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
I opened my eyes. Slumped in a worn maroon-velvet seat, I raised my head, breathing in the odor of dust, mildew, and forlorn emptiness. Putting my hand to my head, I felt a lump. Nausea swept through me as I leaned forward, gripping the back of the seat in front of me, and peering at a movie screen. A velvet curtain draped the proscenium. Light fixtures sculpted like bent arms with hands holding dimly lighted torches lined the walls. I looked up at the ceiling, blinking it into focus. The Hollywood version of the Sistine Chapel mural had been painted on it. The angels, movie-star sexy, had faded and chipped into decay. Gerald and Bruno sat still on either side of me as if we were at a private screening waiting for the movie to begin. I was in Parson’s theater.
I sat a few moments, gathering myself. Swaying, I stood up. “I’m going for popcorn. Want some?” I quickly squeezed past Bruno. Just as I reached the aisle he stuck out his foot, tripping me. I went down on the carpet.
Gerald snickered. I got to my hands and knees then sat back on my haunches, waiting for the nightmare room to stop tilting. “I thought you and Gerald weren’t allowed in The Rock. At least that’s what Mrs. Parson told me.”
Bruno shot up out of his seat and leaned down, putting his face in mine. “You keep your mouth shut.” He jerked me up to my feet.
“Ms. Poole,” Parson greeted me as he came down the stage steps and walked up the aisle to us. “I’m glad you’re alive. Rubio had such a need for drama, the need to create his own special effects. Not a good combination for a hit man. I won’t miss him.”
“How did he know Celia was at the motel?” I asked, as the room finally righted itself.
“I had Bruno, Gerald, and Rubio following you. Bruno and Gerald tailed who they thought was you to the hospital. So I ordered Rubio to wait at Bella Casa in case someone else went in or out. And you did. In a bright red convertible. Rubio followed you to the motel and of course informed Bruno where he was.”
“I didn’t see his bike.”
“He wasn’t on it, just in a regular plain sedan. I didn’t order him to rent the room next to Celia’s or fire stupidly through the wall. But that was Rubio’s way. He too loved the movies. Did you tell them where the memory card is?”
“No.”
“We searched Celia, the room, and Ms. Poole,” Bruno explained. “Nothing. It was a quick search. We had to get out before the cops arrived.”
“Where’s Heath?” I asked Parson.
Parson assessed me. “You said you didn’t tell Bruno and Gerald where the card is. Does that mean you know?”
“Yes.”
“We’re making headway.”
“I want to see Heath first.”
“Bring her upstairs,” he told the two men.
Parson led us backstage. Bruno’s hand gripped my arm as we made our way up the circular stairs. I didn’t have a plan. But I had one goal, the card in Bruno’s pocket. Other than that, I was improvising, and like all good actresses I knew I had to follow my instincts. Wait for the moment.
Parson opened the door to his bedroom. I braced myself for what bloody condition Heath might be in.
“Sit, Miss Poole.”
Bruno shoved me onto the bed. Then he and Gerald leaned against the wall opposite me. Now Parson opened the door to the cement-lined room. Heath was tied to the wooden chair. His shirt hung open and his head lolled down, chin resting on his bare chest.
Luis stood next to him, his black hair glistening like a gigolo’s.
“As you can see, we’ve kept Heath under control,” Parson said. “I could play the torture game to make you tell me where the card is, but that’s tedious, don’t you think?”
“Let him go. I’ll tell you where it is.”
Luis grabbed Heath’s hair and yanked back his head. Heath’s face stretched in a grimace of pain.
“You know I can’t do that,” Parson said in his most reasonable tone. “You tell me its location, and I’ll send Bruno and Gerald to get it.”
“Let Heath go first.”
“Luis.” Parson spoke his name but it was really a command.
In one balletic movement Luis pulled a knife from his pants pocket, flipped the blade from its sheath, and pressed it to Heath’s throat.
“Stop it!” All eyes were on me. I had my moment. I had my audience. “I don’t want to watch any more people die. I saw Celia die. I saw your wife die. I can’t take it …”
“My wife?” Parson looked as if he’d been shot. “What are you talking about?”
I glanced at Heath, still with the knife at this throat. He was watching me closely. And I realized he was more alert than he’d first appeared.
“What about my wife?” Parson demanded.
“I was there in the penthouse when she jumped. I tried to prevent her. We all did. Ask Bruno. Ask Gerald.”
“She’s lying!” Gerald said. “We checked on your wife every hour, like you said. The last time we did, she was gone.”
Bruno stared silently at me, his eyes filled with pure hatred.
“Go on, Ms. Poole,” Parson said.
“She was on the balcony when Bruno and Gerald broke in.”
“Broke in?”
“Yes. She’d stolen the key from Bruno and had locked the door from the inside.”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about.” The blood had drained from Bruno’s face.
With a small, hard smile, Luis moved to the doorway, the knife in his hand, his back to Heath.
“I was with her,” I said to Parson. “You have pre-Columbian art in your penthouse. The glass wall automatically folds back into panels. You have a private elevator with a door that looks
like all the other office doors. Your wife had auburn hair, she was wearing jeans.” Parson’s eyes were beginning to glaze over with rage. I glanced at Heath. He was working his hands trying to loosen the ropes on his wrists.
“She said you took Jenny to the Rock, and Jenny came home wanting to be an actress. She said you used the theater for solace. Or to kill.”
Parson’s stone-like eyes narrowed, his cadaverous body went rigid, and he jabbed a finger at me. “Enough of this bullshit. I want the card now.”
“I saw Bruno take it.”
Parson turned slowly toward the big man.
Bruno pulled himself up. “I don’t have it, sir. She’s screwing with us.”
“He put it in his handkerchief pocket. Look for yourself.”
Bruno’s left hand flattened against his chest. His eyes widened as he felt the card. Instantly his other hand jammed inside his jacket and pulled out his gun. But Bruno wasn’t fast enough.
With a flick of his wrist, Luis hurled his knife across the room and into Bruno’s neck. Bruno’s mouth gaped open. Dropping the gun, his hands grabbed for the knife. Blood spurted from his jugular. His legs buckled and he dropped to the floor. The Aubusson rug soaked up his blood.
Heath had worked his hands free. He was grappling with the ropes on his legs.
“Stop!” Gerald yelled. “We didn’t do anything. It was her. It was all her!” Backing up to the bedroom door, he waved his gun at me, then at Parson.
Parson was motionless, standing as if he were in a trance. I knew Gerald was waiting for an order to shoot, for someone to tell him what to do.
Heath had freed his legs. Silently he rose, turned, lifted his chair, and crashed it down on Luis’s back. Luis flew forward, his chin up, surprise on his face. He belly-flopped onto the floor next to Bruno. Gasping for air, he reached for Bruno’s gun.
Gerald fired, somehow missing all of us. Heath ducked, moved in, and seized Bruno’s weapon from Luis. With a quick twist of his body, he aimed and fired.
A round black hole appeared in Gerald’s forehead. He dropped to his knees. Shoulders slumping, he keeled over. I moved to him and grabbed his weapon.
City of Mirrors Page 23
