“You have a gun?” said Jeb. “You told me he was looking for something for a headache and took the wrong thing by accident out of your purse.”
Skye reached into her knitting bag. “Sure, I got Lou’s gun. He had it at the hospital and I took it. I have wanted one for protection for ages. A girl can’t be too careful these days.”
“Anybody got a match?” asked Rick. “You want one, Jeb? They’re Padróns.”
“No,” said Jane and Tim at the same time.
“Sure,” said Skye, taking out a lighter.
Jane grabbed the cigar from Rick. “If these are Lou Piccolo’s, you don’t want to smoke them.”
Skye raised the gun she had taken from her bag, pointing it at Jane, but taking a step back so she could cover the whole room.
“Yes, they do, Jane Wheel. All the boys want to smoke a cigar. They want to celebrate the big new change in the company, right? Yo u anti-smoking people are ridiculous.”
“Oh, Skye,” said Bix, putting her hand to her mouth. “Heck liked to smoke cigars.”
Jane looked around the room, something about the smoking…right. The ashtrays. There were six of them lined up on the desk, but they were all clean.The house hadn’t been cleaned, there were dishes in the sink, but there were no ashes in the ashtray, the house didn’t smell of tobacco. But Heck was a smoker. He liked cigars. And in order to butter him up, Lou sent him cigars from his private stash.
“How often did Heck smoke? One a day?” asked Jane.
Bix was crying. Jeb looked at her, puzzled, but didn’t say anything.
“Every night, after dinner,” answered Bix.
Skye ignored Bix’s tears and, with a big smile, gave Jeb and Rick each a cigar. She nodded and pointed her gun at Rick. “You first, sweetie, let’s have a light.”
“It’s going to explode, isn’t it?” asked Rick, looking at Skye. “You’re trying to kill me, kill us.” He began backing out of the room.
“No, it’s not going to explode, silly,” Skye said. “We’re all right here, too.” She flicked her vintage Zippo and Rick reflex-ively began puffing on the cigar. He nodded to Jeb and gave him a thumbs-up.
“Now you, Jeb,” said Skye.
Jeb shook his head.
“It’s over, sweetie,” said Bix. “Give me the gun.”
Jane saw the cavalry arrive. Oh had pulled up in his rental car and was heading for the house.
“Heck smoked outside, didn’t he? Up on the platform of his observatory?” said Jane. “Lou gave him some of his cigars from the stash you had already doctored, and he took one up on the roof. Heck had a seizure up there, didn’t he? That’s why he went off the roof so oddly, he was rigid and seizing when he went over the side.…For God’s sake, Rick, put that out.”
Rick was holding his stomach and was beginning to look dazed. Bix grabbed the cigar out of his mouth and pushed him into a chair.
“You can smoke or I can shoot you,” said Skye. “Your choice how you die. Bix and I are taking over everything and we’re burning down this house. This filthy house. You boys are going to get sloppy and drop your cigars and this place is going to go up in smoke so fast. Everybody felt so sorry for that poor Heck? He was crazy, all right. And he worked hard, all right. He also had a business on the side…and when I was fourteen years old…Uncle Heck told me he could get me in a movie….”
“You don’t have to talk about it, honey,” said Bix,” it’s over.”
“It’s over when I say it’s over, Bix. I am finally in charge. This says so,” she said, waving the gun. “And I’m stronger than you losers, so don’t get any ideas. I’ve been working out since I was a teenager to keep the weight off, to stay strong, to be ready for when the next Celie role came along. None did, though, did it? Yo u know what good old Uncle Heck told me?”
Jane knew that Oh could see in the window. The door was open; their voices, Jane hoped, were carrying. They were framed there, acting out their roles, and Oh stood watching the scene unfold. He was nodding his head and Jane could see him raise his phone. Yes, an ambulance would be coming in time for Rick and a police car for Skye. Jane saw Louise come out of the garage, helped by Greg. Now Jane was the watcher and the window her frame. Jane could tell by looking at Louise that she had found an even bigger stash of Uncle Heck’s other business. By the look on Louise’s face, the total collapse of her features and form, Jane could tell she had been wrong about one conclusion she had reached earlier. Louise wasn’t in love with Jeb. Louise had been in love with Heck.
It was as if Jane and Oh were watching an episode of some bizarre chapter of the B Room, or maybe it was Patrick’s version, The D Room, from two sides of the screen. Jane’s version was the story of the brokenhearted Louise finding out the truth about the man she loved, whose death she would now experience all over again. Oh, from his vantage point, was viewing the Skye Miller story, the child actress who was used up by everyone before she was old enough to catch on.
“Uncle Heck was such a sweetie, wasn’t he?” said Skye. “He told me my big chance was to make a grown-up movie. That’s what he called it. Sandy Pritikin drove me over here, told me it would be great for my career. Told me Heck knew what he was doing. Sandy smoked those cheap cigars, he reeked of them, he…” Skye stopped. Her words were bitter and angry, but tears streamed. “I let Sandy, what was it Heck told me to say…be my costar…yeah…and I let Heck film the whole thing. I was fourteen years old. And the next year, when I put on weight, who was the prick who tried to get me fired? Sandy Pritikin. I told him I’d tell what he did, what he did to me, and he just laughed. He said no one would believe it and Heck filmed it so his face was never in it, no one could prove it was him, but everyone would see what a little slut—”
Bix put an arm around Skye, but she wouldn’t or couldn’t stop talking.
“Sandy was smoking one of those crappy cigars when he called me that. I made sure that the box I sent him two years ago were good ones, such good cigars that he wouldn’t be able to resist lighting up, even though he’d had the bypass, even though he wasn’t supposed to smoke. I wish I could have been there when that hammy bastard lit up. I pray every night,” said Skye, looking around at all of them,” that it was slow and excruciating.”
“Skye, let’s get rid of it,” said Jane.
Skye stopped talking and looked at Jane.
“Photos, films. There were other girls, too. It’s in these candy boxes.” Jane held out the one she had been clutching. “There’s a brick barbeque out in the backyard. Let’s burn it all, okay?”
Skye nodded and when Jane reached for the gun, she allowed Jane to take it. Jane handed Skye off to Bix, who emptied out a box of papers and started putting the candy boxes into the larger container. Together they carried it out the back door.
Jeb was completely dazed.
The police and ambulance arrived quietly. Oh must have given them the word. Jane handed over the cigar box to the police. Tim stood up behind her and reached into his pocket and handed the syringe over.
“I can’t believe she drugged me and held a gun on me and she didn’t even search me to see if I’d found anything incriminating.”
“It wasn’t going to matter,” said Jane. “I think in her script we were all going to die anyway.”
“Who killed Patrick?” said Jeb. “Lou, right?”
“Skye did it all, Jeb. You treated her like an annoying little girl, but she was all grown up enough to plan a lot of murders. Yo u were definitely going down.”
Jeb looked skeptical. The EMTs wheeled Rick past them through the front door.
“The nicotine she was using to doctor the cigars was in your pantry, probably from your own cigarettes. Bobbette said Skye was in the kitchen all the time, loved to help cook and get recipes,” said Tim.
“And she had read one of the best books on poisons I have ever seen,” said Oh,” right in your own library.”
“Skye stabbed Patrick Dryer? She wasn’t at the flea market. She was at the hosp
ital with Bix.”
“She wasn’t at the flea market with you and the B Room, Jeb, but she was there. Remember how proud she was of having her license? Didn’t need anyone to drive her around anymore? Bix was in surgery and it was easy to get to Pasadena and back. I’m not sure why she picked that day, since it was a little more complicated than shooting up a cigar, but—”
“I can help here, Mrs. Wheel,” said Oh. “Mr. Dryer had come to the hospital the night before, probably to hang that dreadful little mobile to scare you all, one of his pranks, and he had an argument with Ms. Miller. The nurses heard some of it and he mentioned that he had a book coming out and that his cousin Heck had helped him publish it. I suspect she feared that the book detailed her appearance in some of Mr. Rule’s films.”
“One. She only did one,” said Bix, who had come in to pick up her purse. “I’ll be going down to the police station.”
Jeb went over and embraced Bix. “I’ll go with you. We’ll get her a lawyer and—”
Bix shook her head. “I’m not going just for moral support, Jeb. I knew about the cigars. I figured it out and I didn’t stop her. It’s why…” Bix looked over at Jane.
Jane smiled slightly. “It’s why you didn’t mind that I was here. You didn’t think I was a very good detective. You saw me babble away on television when Jeb brought you the tape and so when this went down, you thought I’d be perfect to help skew all the facts here. You realized that the explosion was meant for Lou. Even though you got hurt, you still thought Patrick was harmless. But Skye didn’t know that. And Patrick threatened Skye. He knew about Heck’s other life. So did Lou. She killed Patrick because you were the only person she trusted and he hurt you and she thought he was going to hurt her. Then Lou showed up at the hospital with a gun and the script wrote itself. She could get rid of Lou and let the murder be pinned on him. Especially if Bix helped.”
“I didn’t want to do it at first, but Lou was so cruel about all this. He threatened our deal—the Bix Flix deal. He wanted more money to keep quiet about Heck. Heck was already dead, I didn’t want…I didn’t tell you about it, Jeb. He would have blackmailed Skye. She asked me to put the cigars in his case for her. I didn’t ask her, but I knew she must have laced them with something.”
“Did you know what kind of cigars Lou smoked?” asked Jane.
“No,” said Bix. “I never paid any attention.”
“That’s why there was only one Padrón in the case. You were letting fate decide which one he smoked.”
Bix shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It might, Ms. Bixby, when you speak with your lawyer,” said Oh.
“And you couldn’t possibly have known about Heck and the cigars,” said Jane.
“No. Or Sandy,” said Bix. “I had no idea about Sandy. Or Heck. Oh God, what will I say to Louise?” asked Bix. She touched Jane’s arm and walked out the front door, where another police car had arrived.
Jeb followed Bix outside. He looked back at Jane, wanting very much to say something, but Jane could tell that he had no idea what it would be. Unfortunately, no one had written or decoded this script for him.
Jane, Tim, and Oh looked at each other and gazed around the room at the stacks of pages, the overflowing desk drawers, the candy boxes that remained behind. Oh’s cell phone rang and he studied the number. He nodded and answered,
“Yes. Yes. I am, too. I’m on my way.”
Jane and Tim looked at him. Who was left that hadn’t been accounted for?
“My wife’s aunt,” said Oh. “She’s passed.”
Jane and Tim gave their condolences and the three of them walked out of Heck’s house together. So many stories buried in those rooms, feverishly written by Heck, then hidden away until someone could figure out how to tell them. Yet they were all really the same, weren’t they? Life, love, betrayal. Greed, loss, and death.
Jane put her hand through Tim’s arm and, in a bold move, did the same with Oh, who walked on her other side. Was it something related to the closure, the resolution of this drama? A wave of good humor came over her despite the weight of the last several minutes. It struck her that the three of them were a strange variation of one of her old favorite television shows. The Mod Squad, where every promotional trailer focused on the three twentysomethings who went undercover as high school students—Linc, Pete, and Julie—walking down the street while the announcer intoned,” One black, one white, one blond.” This version, more of an odd squad, Oh, Tim, and Jane now walked the same Hollywood streets, sort of. One Asian, one gay, one—what was she today? Jane Wheel, girl detective? Wife, mother, friend, picker? All of the above?
Time to go home.
Music.
Credits.
Fade to black.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Hollywood Stuff Page 25
