Killing Kelly

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Killing Kelly Page 10

by Heather Graham


  It was dark, very dark.

  Kelly’s house was situated off the road, up a small hill from the Strip and set back from the road. She had always loved the privacy of it. But that night there was no moon. And there were no stars. Not even the streetlights were able to penetrate the lush trees and foliage that grew so beautifully in the front.

  When she pulled off the street and up the driveway, she winced, shaking her head with self-disgust. She’d forgotten to turn on the porch lights when she’d left that day. The front of the house was completely shrouded in shadow.

  She kept the car lights on, staring at the house, wondering why she was suddenly so uneasy. She’d come home dozens of times in the dark. Besides, her dog, Sam—who had been staying with Serena during her absence—was back in the house, waiting for her. During the drive, she’d been almost euphoric. She could dance. All right, she wasn’t great yet. She was far from looking anything like a professional. Yet…she had felt good. She had felt great! Moving, learning, putting everything he said into practice, doing it wrong, trying again, getting it right. She should now be in a state of cheerful bliss. But she wasn’t. Kelly took a deep breath. All she had to do was get her key ready, head for the house and walk in.

  Maybe her unease was simply due to the fact that she had seen Joe Penny with Matt Avery today. And Matt had been an ass, actually threatening her in his slimy way.

  So? Get out of the car. Go in. The front door isn’t that far from the drive!

  But she sat for a moment, suddenly really unnerved as she remembered that this was the scene she had played on her last day of work. The darkness.

  Shadows…A woman alone. No one around. A prowler in the bushes. A murderer waiting to strike.

  She let out a sound of pure exasperation. She’d lived here for several years. It was a great neighborhood. There was no reason for anyone to want to hurt her. She wasn’t going to stay in her car all night, and she definitely wasn’t going to give in to the fears that everyone else had for her!

  Kelly exited the car, clutching her keys in her hand. Being paranoid was one thing. Being smart was another. And she should have been smarter, she thought, suddenly wishing she had a little container of mace or pepper spray on her key chain.

  When she closed the car door, the loud bang echoed in the night. The shadows at the front of the house were deep. The trees bent and whispered in a soft groan. She couldn’t really see, yet shadows seemed to dip and sway. She blinked, and they seemed to grow. And there was movement, as if, indeed, the shadow of a man began to emerge on the porch from the bushes that surrounded the tile of the steps.

  She felt a sense of acute and growing danger, as if there were tiny pinpricks of alarm at the base of her spine. As if…

  From within the house, Sam, her weimaraner, began to bark. The sound was aggressive, not like the excited woofs he let out when he knew that she was coming to the door. She looked back at the car just as the inside lights went out. Darkness seemed to loom and grow around it. She heard a sound, something that really caused an icy chill of panic to streak down her spine. A sound…like a footstep against the tile, a scraping sound so light she might have imagined it. Yet she had not.

  Suddenly she was certain there was someone, something, on the far side of the porch, concealed by the bushes. And it was moving. Darkness against darkness, a shadow growing…

  She turned, afraid that she wouldn’t make it back to the car and, suddenly, absolutely certain she was in terrible danger. She raced for the street and heard a whooshing noise behind her, as if someone was indeed coming in pursuit. Her feet took flight.

  Just as she reached the sidewalk and the quiet street, a car came around the corner. She was on the pavement. A horn began to blare. She looked back to the house, but it was silent. Dark. Except for the movement of shadow.

  Movement!

  A shadow. Coming toward her. And then…light. Blinding light.

  Mel Alton seldom simply answered his cell phone. He had caller ID, and he was careful. But he was tired. He’d been putting in an awful lot of time with Kelly Trent. Granted, the video was netting him a tidy sum also. In fact, he was doing damned well by her, considering that she was on a paid vacation from the soap. She was worth his efforts, but she wasn’t his only client.

  His day had been busy, hectic. Many of the clients he had taken on were doing so well that they had become demanding. It was a “know when to hold, know when to fold” business. Ask for too much for the wrong person and that person would be replaced. But if he didn’t ask for enough, he would lose the reputation he had garnered for being an ethical and tough—very tough—agent. Many of his clients needed their hands held a lot. And he had to explain over and over that this was a game in which a good actor could lose out just because a director had decided on a certain look. Some clients needed to be encouraged every day. Others were just idiots. A perfect audition would be set up and they’d fail to show. Then they’d whine. If they were big enough, another audition could be set up. When they weren’t all that they thought themselves to be, they just got mad at Mel.

  So it was with exhaustion that he entered his Beverly Hills condo and answered the phone without thinking.

  “Mel?”

  He winced instantly and thought about making a noise, pretending that he didn’t have a good connection. But he had to talk to her eventually.

  “What is it now, Marlene?” he asked.

  “My check bounced.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Impossible? Well, it bounced!”

  “All right, all right, I must not have transferred funds correctly or something. I’ll have Sally at the office find out what happened in the morning.”

  He could just see his ex-wife. Once upon a time, she had been adorable. That had been back in their high school days. When they had married. When she had believed in him, putting him through college by working as a waitress during all odd hours to do it. Once, they had been good together.

  So what the hell had happened? He couldn’t blame it on a particular place. Marriages fell apart all across the country. He worked longer hours, she became involved with the kids. She began to complain about the time he put into his work, and he began to get angry at her nagging. She took up tennis. And then she took up with the tennis pro.

  He didn’t even notice at first, because there had been that one indiscretion with an eager young actress. The end had been rough, really rough. Maybe Marlene had a right to ask for the moon. She had been there from the beginning supporting him. Two of the children were grown, but they still had a fourteen-year-old daughter, Ariel. He adored her. Marlene had wanted more than custody of their girl. She’d taken the dog, the cat, the house, the Rolls…everything. Fine. He’d have felt really guilty about the young actress if it wasn’t for the tennis pro. And then Marlene’s plastic surgeon, who had fallen in love with his own work. That was a new one. Mel had just learned about that. He’d spent a fortune on her face and body just to have them enjoyed by the good doctor.

  “I need more, Mel.”

  “Too bad, Marlene.”

  “I’ll take you back to court.”

  “The kids are grown and gone, Marlene, except for Ariel. I already gave you everything. There’s nothing else to take me for.”

  “Let me just say this, Mel. Everything you have, you have because of me. It’s my turn. I gave my youth to you. I gave my looks to you.”

  “Thank goodness Dr. Shales got them back for you, right?” he asked lightly.

  “There had better be a little apology amount in that new check you issue, Mel,” Marlene said sweetly.

  There was something in her voice that hit a field of irrational anger within him, something he didn’t deal with all that often. Just now and then.

  He smiled icily before he spoke. “Hey, did you hear? Another old bat died under anesthesia for liposuction.”

  “Cute, Mel. Old men can die getting tummy tucks, too, you know.”

  “There have been a few na
sty bitches around the country having serious accidents lately, too. Have you noticed?”

  “What the hell does that mean, Mel?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Mel, was that a threat?”

  “Ah, Marlene! A threat, from me to you?”

  “I’ll really sue your ass, Mel.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of threatening you, my dear. Sorry about the check, Marlene. It will be reissued.”

  “I really do suggest that you pad the amount. I never did bring up that actress in court. How old was she, Mel?”

  “Old enough. And I didn’t mention the tennis pro.”

  “You weren’t neglected.”

  “Are we going to go through all of this again? Christ, Marlene, it’s been over for nearly three years.”

  “Fix my check, Mel,” she said, and hung up.

  He was tempted to fling the phone across the room, but he didn’t. There was a way to deal with Marlene. There were always ways to deal with people. Reason was one. But when reason failed…there were other ways. That had become quite obvious to him.

  CHAPTER 10

  Lord! What was the woman doing, standing in the middle of the street?

  Doug brought the car to a screeching halt just a few feet in front of Kelly Trent. Her eyes were wide, like those of a doe blinded in the headlights. He leaned out the window, perplexed, angry and frightened, he might have hit her.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded angrily.

  “What?” she said, blinking, looking at the house, then back at him again.

  “Kelly, what are you doing in the street?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I heard…”

  “You heard what?”

  “Nothing,” she said, then frowned, stepping toward the sidewalk. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I live?” she asked suspiciously.

  He picked up her wallet from the passenger’s seat of his rental car and tossed it to her. “You left your wallet at the studio. I guess it fell out of your purse. Your address is on your driver’s license. I thought you might need it.”

  “I…yeah. Thanks.”

  “All right. Good night.”

  “Hey, wait! Since you’re here, why don’t you come in for a minute? You can meet my dog. I’ll be taking him with me to Miami.”

  “You want me to meet your dog?” he asked.

  “You don’t like dogs?”

  “Yeah, I like dogs.”

  She stooped down halfway up the long walk and he realized she was picking up her purse. He frowned, puzzled. Had she dropped it, lost it as easily as she had her wallet? Had she left it there on purpose? If so, why?

  At the door, she inserted her key into the lock. He realized that she hadn’t even been in yet. From inside, it sounded as if the dog was going crazy.

  “It’s me, Sam!” Kelly called out.

  “Come on in,” she said as the dog—a very large weimaraner—came bounding toward him. “Sam!”

  Kelly caught the animal by the collar. The dog wiggled and wormed, but seemed fairly obedient. “Sam, this is Doug O’Casey. Doug, this is Sam. Sam, sit and be courteous. This is an introduction.”

  Sam sat and offered Doug a paw, which he dutifully shook. The dog whined and didn’t seem in the least at ease, but he didn’t bound at Doug again. Instead he went running up and down the entry, barking.

  “Sam!” Kelly said. She shook her head, then looked at Doug. “Cat.”

  “What?”

  “There must be a cat out there, prowling around in the bushes. He’s a good dog, but cats drive him crazy. Sam thinks they’re demons.”

  “I see,” Doug murmured. “Sam, there are no cats out there.”

  The dog looked at him, almost as if he understood every word. Sam really was a beautiful animal, large, toned and sleekly muscled. His eyes were as silver as his coat. He wagged his tail, then whined again.

  “Want me to go check for cats, make absolutely certain?” Doug said, hunkering down to pet the dog as Sam trotted back to him.

  “Well, he does have to go for a walk,” Kelly murmured.

  “I’ll take him.”

  “No, no, don’t be silly. Make yourself comfortable. Have a seat. Get yourself a drink…kitchen is right down the hall to the left, through the archway.”

  “I’ll tell you what. You can get me a drink, since you know where everything is, and I’ll take the dog out. It’s not a problem.”

  “Really…?”

  “Really. Sam and I will be fine.”

  She hesitated, still seeming uncertain in a way that she hadn’t before. He was aware, even more than he had been that afternoon, that she was beautiful. Her hair was a really rich, deep red, and her eyes were an amazing shade between blue and green. She was slender, yet exceptionally well toned and muscled. Her stature was delicate and somehow strong, as well. He remembered the first night he had seen her. She had been just as attractive then, surely, but when he had looked at her, he had seen nothing but a spoiled star. Maybe that was what he had expected. But now…

  She was no different; he was just seeing her as she was—far more down-to-earth than he had ever imagined. She didn’t have a chauffeur, a ridiculously palatial estate or any pretensions. She worked hard. She could be hesitant or she could plow right in. She was a mass of contradictions, all of them alluring.

  “Knock when you’re back,” she said at last, smiling slightly. “And thanks.”

  Doug opened the door, and they stepped out. He was taken by surprise when Sam let out a woof and dragged him toward the bushes. He nearly tripped off the tile steps of the porch. The dog was strong. And determined. As he continued to pull Doug with him into the foliage, he barked in a frenzy.

  “Sam!”

  The dog had been trained at some time, because at the sound of his name, he stopped, looked guiltily at Doug, thumped his tail and whined.

  “We’re going for a walk,” Doug said. “Heel!”

  The dog obediently did so. But as Doug started down the walk, Sam whined and then stared at him again. Doug stopped, looking curiously at the house. “All right, boy.”

  As they headed back, Doug thought he heard a rustling. He was tempted to let the dog go but held tight to the leash. He doubted a coyote had come down this far, but he didn’t want to take a chance of having Kelly’s pet tangle with another creature that might leave it injured in any way. Hell, maybe there was a skunk crawling around. Or the dog was simply after a cat.

  Still, he let the animal go through the bushes. Sam sniffed, traced his ground, sniffed, barked and started around the side of the house, running with the free lead that Doug gave him all the way through the backyard, over a small hedge, through a neighbor’s yard and then out to the opposite street. There, the dog sniffed, whined and walked back and forth on the pavement.

  “Whatever it was, it’s gone now, bud,” Doug told the dog dryly.

  Apparently the dog now agreed with him. And after marking a few trees, he seemed happy to head back to the house.

  Kelly had locked the door, and when she answered his knock, he realized that she hadn’t just hit one lock, she’d slid the top bolt as well.

  “Thanks,” she said as he brought Sam back in.

  “Sure thing.”

  “I made rum and Cokes. I wasn’t sure what you liked and I figured that was a fairly safe drink.”

  “That’s fine.”

  She handed him a glass, and he realized that she had nearly consumed her own. “Well,” she murmured, sweeping out an arm. “This is the entry.”

  “Lovely. Nice tile.”

  “Thanks. It was built in the late twenties.”

  “It seems a great place, the old tile, the archways—actually, it kind of reminds me of some of the old places around me, on the beach, in the Grove. Mediterranean or Old Spanish.”

  “Kind of,” she agreed, leading him in. Sam whined, sliding beneath her hand as she walked. “Hey, you!” she said, patting the dog’s head. She turned back to
Doug. “This is the living room or parlor, or whatever you want to call it.”

  “Once again, very nice,” he told her. And it was. The floors were hardwood, with handsome throw rugs. The sofa was soft, fine leather, and there were richly upholstered chairs facing a large stone hearth. The room was rustic and stylish. Neat, yet comfortable and inviting.

  “I guess you have designers out here for your um…decor.”

  She smiled. “You can. I haven’t. The sofa was from a garage sale. You can get great stuff out here if you prowl around.”

  “You live here alone?” he asked.

  She nodded. “It’s my house. I love it.”

  “It’s…great.”

  She smiled. “Want another drink?”

  “No, thanks. I don’t usually have so much as a drink and then drive.”

  “Well, you don’t have to leave immediately, do you? Oh…sorry. I guess Miss February might have called by now. Pretty girl, but not as attractive as your Jane, though it’s really none of my business.”

  He wondered if he should let her go on or tell her the truth. “Jane is my dance partner. We’re not dating.”

  “Oh?”

  He saw the question in her wide eyes and had to smile.

  “She’s dating a hockey player.”

  “And you…”

  He laughed. “Are you trying to ask me about my sexual preference?”

  She flushed. “I guess not. You were interested in Miss February, after all. Not that your sexual preference means anything in the least. I mean…oh, Lord, I mean as far as I’m concerned, people are people, whatever their likes, dislikes, beliefs, color and so on. I certainly don’t mean criminal types or…never mind. I’m rambling, I’m afraid.”

  “How many drinks did you have while I was walking Fido here?” he inquired.

  “Sam.”

  “Sorry. Sam. And he is a great dog. How many drinks?”

  “Two. I’m heading for my third.”

 

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