by Tripp Ellis
"You just happened to stop by in the middle of the night?” Paxton asked, incredulous.
"Like I said, I was worried about her.”
"Why?"
“Call it woman's intuition."
"Don't go anywhere." Paxton stepped inside, the glass crunching under his shoes. He stepped into the living room and surveyed the gruesome scene.
Paxton returned to us a moment later. "Who is she?"
"Sidney Caldwell.”
"You can positively ID her?" Paxton asked.
Lyric shrugged. "I didn't actually see the body." Her eyes flicked to me. "Tyson is the one who discovered her."
Paxton's suspicious eyes fell on me.
"We arrived at the home. There were signs of forced entry. I entered the house and discovered the body in the living room in the hallway. I checked for vitals. There were none. I left the house, and Lyric called 911."
"And what's your relationship to the deceased?" Paxton asked.
"I have no relationship."
"Never met her before in your life?"
"Nope.”
"You just decided to escort Ms. Stone here in the middle of the night?"
"I didn't think Ms. Stone should be alone."
"I've been receiving threats," Lyric added.
"From whom?" Paxton asked.
"If I knew who was threatening me, I would have made a police report," she said with a sassy tone.
"Can you tell me why the threats were made?"
Lyric hesitated for a moment. Her green eyes flicked to me, then back to Paxton. "Probably because of something I'm investigating. I'm a journalist, after all."
"I suppose you're investigating Mia Sophia's death, right?"
Lyric made a hesitant nod of agreement.
Paxton frowned and shook his head. "Figures. That explains why you two are together."
"This was a professional hit," I said.
"What makes you say that?" Paxton asked.
"Somebody was smart enough to police up their brass. You’re not going to find any shell casings."
"Maybe you took them?"
My face tensed, and my eyes blazed into him. "Besides checking the victim’s vitals, I didn't touch anything."
"You compromised the crime scene.”
I scowled at him.
"You should have called us when you saw signs of forced entry," Paxton said.
I gave him a sour look. "I didn't know what I’d find inside. Someone could have been injured. I thought potentially saving a life would take precedence over crime scene integrity. Judging by the response times around here, I wasn’t wrong to enter.”
“You didn’t save anybody,” Paxton quipped. "It's a big city. It's not like the little town where you come from."
A crowd of neighbors had gathered around. Not many, but a few had seen the flashing lights and stepped into the streets in their PJs and robes to see what was going on.
A uniformed officer stepped to Paxton and muttered in his ear. A look of surprise washed over Paxton’s face. Then his expression turned grim.
The officer left and stepped back inside.
"Your friend was a biochemist," Paxton said. "She worked at Advanced DNA Analysis, LTD.”
Lyric nodded.
"The same lab that processed the toxicology report for Mia Sophia."
Lyric gave another hesitant nod.
"A call just went out over dispatch. Somebody torched it. Fire department is trying to contain the blaze now."
"Still think Mia Sophia's death was an accidental drowning?" I asked smugly.
30
"You don't think it's odd that a third-party lab has a discrepancy between their findings and the official autopsy report of the medical examiner? And the only person who can verify that discrepancy is dead, and the lab, and all the records, have been mysteriously set ablaze?" I asked.
Paxton grimaced. "Okay. I admit. Maybe there's something there."
He wasn't pleased about having to admit there was something screwy going on. And even less pleased it was pointed out to him by a reporter and an out-of-state sheriff’s deputy.
A heavy breath escaped his nostrils. "Okay. Tell me everything you know."
I gave him the short version of everything I had discovered so far.
"That sounds crazy and far-fetched.” He hesitated. “But not out of the realm of possibility," Paxton said.
I was surprised by his admission.
He motioned for us to step aside, we moved away from the entrance of the home and stepped down the walkway to his car.
In a hushed tone, he said, "I probably shouldn't be telling you this… Desmond Ross has had numerous complaints against him over the years. They've all gone away. All the girls signed non-disclosure agreements. The official investigations were dropped. No charges were ever filed. I've been trying to bust that guy for years. If what you're saying is true, this is a whole new level."
"I don't have anything concrete," I said. "But Desmond is the best lead I've got."
"I appreciate what you're doing,” Paxton said. “But let me take it from here. I don't want to be standing over either of your corpses because you kept pushing on this thing." Paxton looked at me. "I know you can handle yourself. But I can assure you, the LAPD is on this.” His eyes fell on Lyric. “Now go home, get some rest, and I will make sure there are extra patrols in your area for the next few days to keep an eye on things.” He looked back at me. “You'll be the first to know if anything turns up. I promise."
We shook hands and strolled to the Ferrari. I slipped into the passenger seat, and Lyric cranked up the V12 and pulled away from the scene.
"I can't believe she's dead," Lyric said, still frazzled by the experience. "Do you think Desmond Ross is really capable of this?"
"I think Desmond Ross is capable of paying someone to do it. It's doubtful he has the ability to do it himself. Guys like that never get their hands dirty."
We zipped through the canyon, over the hill, back to Lyric’s house. We pulled into the driveway, and she killed the engine. I hopped out of the car and surveyed the area, then we cautiously pushed inside. Lyric deactivated the alarm, and I did another perimeter check for good measure.
The sun would be up soon, and both of us were pretty beat.
Lyric took my hand and led me up to her bedroom. "This has been such a stressful night. I need something pleasurable to take my mind off of things."
Despite my exhaustion, I still had enough energy to have a little fun.
31
It seemed like I had just gotten to sleep when Lyric’s alarm blasted. I was so tired at first, I didn't know what the hell was going on.
She killed the alarm and forced herself awake. She rolled over and kissed me on the cheek. "The news never sleeps. Gotta run. You can stay, or I can drop you at the hotel on my way to work."
I didn't have to think long about it. "I'll stay here."
"Make yourself at home. Lock up when you leave. Set the alarm. The code is 2112, in case, for some reason, you need it."
She gave me another peck on the cheek, then hopped out of bed and darted into the bathroom.
I rolled over and put the pillow over my head, falling back asleep. I heard her take a shower and get dressed, and the sound of the hairdryer was like torture. All things considered, she was out of the house pretty fast.
I heard the V12 crank up, and the exhaust note dissipated as she drove through the canyon.
It was a little before noon when I finally pulled myself out of bed. I hit the bathroom, took a shower, toweled off, then stumbled into the kitchen and fixed breakfast. After I tidied up, I caught a cab back to the hotel.
JD's band had arrived.
Dizzy and Crash were sprawled out on the couch, and Styxx was on the balcony, shouting at girls sunning themselves by the pool.
The band looked like hell and smelled even worse.
The drive from Coconut Key to Los Angeles was 43 hours. 2907 miles. They’d driven straight through, t
aking turns at the helm. Personally, I didn't think the shitty band van was capable of the journey. But somehow, they made it. It wouldn't take much recuperation for them to be ready to party.
"What happened to you?" JD asked.
“Long story," I said.
I filled him in on the details.
"No shit, huh? You really think the person that killed Mia is behind the biochemist?"
"Could be a random coincidence, but I doubt it." I sighed. “The fact that the lab was torched points to someone wanting to hide something."
"We can always kidnap Desmond Ross, put some persuasive tactics to work, get him to fess up,” JD said with a devious glint in his eyes.
I gave Jack a sideways glance. "I've been told to back off and let the LAPD handle this."
Jack's face crinkled. "When have you ever done what you're told?"
"I've got nothing to connect Desmond to this case whatsoever. Other than rumor, hearsay, and speculation."
"Maybe you ought to let the LAPD handle this one? Seems like it's getting a lot more complicated than originally anticipated."
"I told Mia’s mother I’d get to the bottom of this. I promised. You know me. I keep my promises."
"What about Nikki Griffin?" JD asked. "I feel like she knows something she's not saying."
"Me too. I’m gonna work on her.”
"Well, while you're working on that, I gotta hustle tickets to the show. As soon as these idiots recharge their batteries, we're gonna hit the strip and start pushing ticket sales."
“How are you going to do that?” I asked.
“I’ve got a plan," JD said with a sly grin.
32
There was a knock at the door. I pulled it open, and Scarlett stood there looking like the movie star that she was destined to become. She was still rocking the blonde hair, and in typical Hollywood fashion, she wore dark shades.
A shrill shriek of joy escaped her plump lips. She flung her arms around me, squeezing tight. "Oh, my God! Tyson. It's so great to see you!"
“Good to see you too!”
"What about me?" JD hollered.
"Ugh," Scarlett groaned. "You're so needy," she said, teasing him.
"I'm needy? I'll remember that next time you ask me to put money in your bank account."
Scarlett broke free of her embrace with me and strutted down the foyer to greet Jack in the living room. “You won't need to put money in my bank account much longer.”
Scarlett was guaranteed a big payday when the Bree Taylor project went into production.
She gave Jack a hug that he gratefully accepted.
Dizzy and Crash perked up. Their eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, and their tongues hit the floor. They were practically drooling on themselves. Styxx took note from the balcony and hung in the archway, staring.
Scarlett was drool-worthy.
"Who's this?" Dizzy asked.
Jack scowled at his bandmates. "This is my daughter. And she's off-limits."
Scarlett smiled. "She introduced herself to the band and shook their hands.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Crash said, bowing as if Scarlett were royalty.
Styxx ventured in from the balcony and greeted her as well. "I’m the drummer."
"That means he's the mentally challenged one," Dizzy said.
Styxx smacked him playfully. "Don't mind him. He plucks things for a living."
"I’m the foundation," Crash said. "I lay down the groove and hold the whole thing together. They’d be hollow without me."
"I've been hearing lots of stories," Scarlett said. "I'm looking forward to the show. You better not disappoint."
"Don't worry. We won't disappoint," Dizzy assured.
"How was Vegas?" I asked.
Scarlett smiled "I left with more money than I went with. I call that a good day."
"Aren’t you a little too young to be gambling?" Jack asked, attempting to exercise some of his parental authority.
"It's not my fault that nobody carded me."
Scarlett sniffled and wiped her nose. That instantly triggered Jack’s alarm. He leaned in, eyeing her suspiciously. “Pull off the shades, let me see your eyes.”
Scarlett’s face crinkled. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Take off the sunglasses,” JD commanded.
She huffed but complied. She opened her eyes exaggeratedly and stared back at JD. “I’m not high. It’s more than I can say for some people in this room.”
Ever since the band arrived, the suite reeked of marijuana.
“Have a little faith, Jack,” Scarlett said.
“I just don’t want to see you falling off the wagon,” JD said.
“Not even a consideration,” Scarlett assured. “Relax.”
She’d had her battles in the past with multiple substances, but had been keeping her nose clean.
Jack surveyed her closely for another moment, then conceded that she was probably clean. She didn’t look tweaked out to me.
The guys in the band continued to ogle Scarlett.
"You're not jailbait, are you?" Dizzy asked.
Scarlett chuckled. "You're safe. I'm legal."
Dizzy breathed a sigh of relief. "Good to know. I was starting to worry, thinking I might be a pervert for getting a chub."
Scarlett laughed.
JD scowled at him.
“You’re a pervert, all right,” Styxx said. “Don’t worry.”
"Blow me," Dizzy said.
"Sorry, you're not my type," Styxx replied.
"Did I fail to mention that this is my daughter?" JD asked.
"Well, your daughter is hot," Crash said.
Scarlett giggled.
"We need to put her on our album cover,” Dizzy said. “That would be rad."
Scarlett shrugged. "I'm down."
"We are not objectifying my daughter on our album cover."
"It's not objectification,” Dizzy assured. “It's a celebration of female beauty."
"I don't think a girl chained to a stack of amplifiers, wearing nothing but a dog collar is a celebration."
"Slave to rock 'n' roll, dude!" Dizzy said. "It's the perfect album title."
“Thrash says you're an actress," Crash said.
Scarlett arched a curious eyebrow. "Thrash?"
"My stage name," JD said, flatly.
Scarlett giggled again.
"Would you have been in anything we might have seen?" Crash continued.
"Well, you’ll get to see me in the upcoming Bree Taylor project, thanks to Tyson."
"No shit? That's big time!"
Scarlett smiled.
Crash pulled out his phone and started searching the Internet. A moment later, he asked, "So, do you go by Scarlett Nicole?"
She nodded.
He searched again.
His eyes went wide. He zoomed in to get a better look at the images he'd found.
Scarlett's eyes narrowed at him. "Are you looking at my tits?"
"No," Crash said, innocently. He swallowed hard, then looked at his phone again. "That's you?"
"From a horror movie that... well, long story.”
Jack scowled at Crash.
He shrugged. "What? I'm just looking her up on the Internet."
"Well, stop."
"Nice tits, though,” Crash said.
"Thank you," Scarlett replied proudly.
"I mean, very classy."
Jack’s eyes were on fire. He snatched the phone from Crash’s hand. "Don't you idiots have something better to do?"
"We’ve been in a car for 43 hours. I am not doing shit but lounging around and getting high."
"We've got tickets to sell," JD reminded them. "We're here for a reason."
"Oh yeah, right," Crash said.
"Well, I guess I'll leave you to your ticket sales," Scarlett said.
She gave JD a hug.
Jack looked disappointed. "You're leaving so soon?"
"Yeah. I told Audrey I'd meet her for a late lun
ch."
"You haven't seen your old man in ages, and he treks halfway across the country to see you, and you can't spend an afternoon with him?"
"Needy," Scarlett teased.
Jack's face soured.
"And you didn't trek halfway across the country just to see me. You came to play a show at Sour Mash."
"Well, seeing you certainly factored into my decision."
"Why don't we have dinner sometime this week? You can take me to a fancy Beverly Hills restaurant, and I can point out all the celebrities."
"I'm gonna hold you to it,” JD said.
"You know I'm not going to pass up a free meal at a fancy restaurant."
“We get to go too, right?” Crash asked.
JD frowned at him.
Scarlett smiled, hugged JD again, and kissed him on the cheek.
She waved to the band as she started toward the door. "Nice to meet you, boys."
They all checked out her ass as she strode away.
JD shot them dirty looks.
Scarlett gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek and said she'd be in touch.
I pulled open the door, and she stepped into the hallway, put on her shades, and wiggled her fingers goodbye.
I pushed the door shut and turned back to the room.
"So, dude, how did you produce that?" Dizzy asked JD.
Jack’s face was red. “I just want to take this opportunity to remind each and every one of you, I have a gun, and I will use it."
33
JD had hired a mobile billboard to roll up and down the Sunset Strip with the image of the band in full ‘80s regalia. The massive image featured the band with lots of flowing hair, and JD blowing a kiss into the camera. The Wild Fury logo was prominently displayed as well as the dates of the show at Sour Mash. Speakers blasted Wild Fury originals as the truck towed the mobile billboard down the boulevard.
Jack and company hit the sidewalks, selling tickets, handing out flyers, causing a ruckus. He'd hired two porn stars from the agency to accompany them. The girls wore bikinis, prancing around in stiletto heels, shaking their wares.
The event caused quite a stir, even in Hollywood.
