Hollywood Prisoner: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller (24 page)

Despite everything that had happened over the past few days, after my session with Francesca, I felt a weight had been lifted from my shoulders as I drove to work the next day. Her story about choosing which wolf to feed and using that to find my power resonated with me.

As for the voice I’d heard during my near-death experience, I had no idea how she knew about that. All I did know was that, with her help, I was ready to reclaim my power and move on. That meant choosing not to feed the wolf of my past that continually haunted me, and honoring the path I knew I was put on this earth to follow. That path was about finding justice for the victims in this world.

Leo was already at his desk when I settled in at my workstation with Bernie. I saw that he was sifting through a mountain of paperwork.

“Fighting crime with a pen?” I said.

He smiled. “The wheels of justice are greased with ink. How are you?”

“I’m okay. Ready to get back to the grind.”

“What about the feds?”

I’d mentioned to him that I thought Joe was developing feelings for me and I knew it was his way of asking about that. “They’re back doing what the federal government does best.”

“What’s that?”

I laughed. “To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure.” We looked up in time to see Darby Hall headed our way. I lowered my voice. “Pain in the ass at twelve o’clock.”

“Edna wants everyone in the bat cave in ten,” Darby said. He looked at me. “That includes you, hotshot.”

I ignored his attempt to get under my skin. I happened to see Charlie in the hallway behind him. He was waving to me like he wanted to talk. I told Leo I’d see him in Edna’s office and made my way over to Charlie’s workstation.

“How are things?” I said, taking a seat next to him, while Bernie stood at my side and did a tail wag. Even as I asked the question, I worried that he was going to tell me about needing a pump again.

“Better. I found a doc and got fixed up.”

“That’s good.” I had no idea what fixed up meant and I didn’t want to know. I decided to change the subject. “How are things with your cases?”

“That’s why I called you over. I’m leaving.”

“You’re going back into retirement?”

He shook his head. “Just the opposite. I’ve decided I miss the work. I’m coming out of retirement and being reassigned to the cold case unit.”

“Really?”

The cold case unit was where Leo had once worked. Much of their duties involved pushing paper and asking SID to look for DNA hits on old cases that had gone nowhere. I doubted that Charlie would be happy with the work, but given his age and medical issues—I’m talking about a heart condition, not his sexual problems—it was probably the best assignment for him.

A hint of a smile played on Charlie’s lips. “Bet you think I’m crazy.”

“If you’re determined to come back to work, I think Cold Case is a good choice.”

“You ever met a detective named Claudia Johnson?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“She’s going to be my new partner, and...” His smile blossomed.

It suddenly hit me. Charlie was returning to active duty in the cold case unit because he thought he might get lucky with his new partner.

I stood. “You’re unbelievable.”

His stupid smile was still there. “I think Claudia and me could be
simpatico
, if you know what I mean.”

I’m sure Claudia will be really impressed with your penis pump.
“Good luck, Charlie. Stay in touch.”

When I got to Lieutenant Edna’s office, he wasted no time reminding us that our assignment was in jeopardy. “As you probably know, Jimmy Castello went to the press yesterday. He’s blaming Patrick Hopkins for his daughter’s death and wants action. That means Dunbar wants our case closed, or Section One goes away.”

Darby shrugged. “It’s going away anyway. Why doesn’t he just reassign us and give the investigation to RHD?”

“I’m not a fucking mind reader, so I can’t tell you that. All I can tell you is that Dunbar wants Hopkins. Where are we on finding him?”

Mel answered. “We’ve been in touch with Chicago PD. They’ve gone by and talked to the lawyers in his firm, some of his friends. They’re convinced he hasn’t returned there.”

“Then where the fuck is he?”

“We also went by and talked to the attorneys he’s been recruiting for his legal practice here,” Leo said. “One of them thought he’s probably holed up somewhere, drinking himself to death.”

Edna looked at Selfie and Molly. “Anything on his credit cards?”

“They haven’t been used,” Selfie said. “Maybe he’s paying cash for a room somewhere.”

Edna exhaled, looked at the rest of us. “So, what you’re telling me is we got a bunch of nothing.”

“Squat,” Darby said, maybe just to irritate his boss, since he knew we were all going to be reassigned anyway.

Edna went on an f-word rant before I gave him my thoughts. “Maybe it would help to backtrack, go over what we know about our murders.”

Darby groaned. “Spare us the agony, hotshot. While you’ve been hooking up with the feds, some of us have been working.”

I raised my voice. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means everybody knows you and that Dawson guy are an item. How were the tacos?”

I looked at Leo, who shook his head, indicating he hadn’t said anything about me telling him I thought Joe had feelings for me.

“We happened to see you and Dawson at the restaurant on Sunset when we drove by yesterday,” Mel said. She looked at Darby. “Let it go.”

“I’ll let it go when she fesses up...”

“STOP!” Edna’s shout caused Molly to spill her coffee. The lieutenant wagged a finger at Darby. “If I hear one more snarky, idiotic comment from you, I’m going to fucking see that you’re reassigned
today
.” He took a breath and found a tissue for Molly to clean up her coffee. He then said to me, “Let’s go through everything again.” His dark eyes found Darby. “Since nobody else has a fucking clue about what to do.”

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, deciding to begin with a timeline and a witness that the brass had deemed unreliable.

“Last Tuesday afternoon, somewhere between approximately two and six in the afternoon, Campbell Turner, a star on the TV soap opera
Stolen Desires
was murdered in her home. A neighbor of Campbell’s, Winifred Shaw, reported seeing a man in his mid-fifties arrive at her house at around three-fifteen in the afternoon. She said the man left about forty minutes later. Sometime later, Luke Morgan, a stagehand on Campbell’s TV show and part-time handyman, came by her house, probably to talk about doing some remodeling. Shortly thereafter, Campbell’s boyfriend, Blake Lambert, also came by the house.”

Leo took up the story. “When questioned, Lambert said he found Campbell had been beaten to death with a hammer. He told us Morgan was in the residence and mumbled something about Campbell deserving what she got. When Morgan threatened him with what turned out to be his own hammer, which he’d left in the garage, Lambert said that left him with no choice but to shoot him.”

“Morgan was shot twice,” I said. “The first shot, to the upper body, wasn’t fatal. The second, fatal shot was made at close range to the head.”

“Meaning there was a premeditated aspect to Morgan’s death,” Mel said.

“If it went down as Lambert told us and Morgan did murder his girlfriend,” Darby said. “I would have done the same thing.”

“We’ll remember that next time you’re involved in a homicide,” Edna said. He looked at me. “Go on.”

“Here’s where things get complicated. Forty-eight hours after Campbell was murdered, Blake Lambert was found dead in a motel room from a gunshot wound to his head. A note was left at the scene, with Lambert saying that Morgan had been involved with Campbell and he murdered her after an argument. In the note, Lambert admitted killing Morgan after finding his girlfriend dead. All of that’s consistent with what Lambert previously told us when he was interviewed.”

“But the blood splatter analysis tells a different story,” Leo said. “Lambert’s death was probably a homicide made to look like a suicide, and the note was written by someone else.”

“Enter Patrick Hopkins,” Mel said, “Campbell’s college sweetheart. We know from our interview with his ex-girlfriend, Abby O’Dell, that Campbell had left Hopkins for Blake Lambert when they were in college. O’Dell told us that Campbell and Hopkins had been secretly hooking up again. O’Dell describes Hopkins as an abusive, violent alcoholic.”

“He’s the only one left with a motive,” Darby said. “It’s just a matter of finding him and putting a bow on everything.”

“But we have nothing that ties Hopkins to the murder scene.”

“There are also a couple other issues,” I said. “We know that Blake Lambert was also hooking up with his old girlfriend, Alexis Teller.” I looked at Leo. “Did you get a chance to talk to her?”

“Yesterday. She admits they were an item again, but denies knowing anything more. She’s pretty shallow, but I think she’s credible.”

“There’s also the issue of Campbell being a drug addict, specifically a heroin user,” I said. “According to the roommate from her drug program, she had lots of issues with her father.”

“The world’s greatest detective,” Leo said.

“You’re leaving out something,” Edna said to me. “The middle-aged man the neighbor saw at Campbell’s house.”

I nodded. “His presence at the house that afternoon puts him within the window of opportunity to have committed the crime.”

“That’s nonsense,” Darby said. “The neighbor isn’t reliable. And, if there was a guy, for all we know, he was walking the street, selling magazines or religion.”

I ignored him. “That leaves us with three unanswered questions: Why was Campbell angry with her father? What led her into a life of drug abuse? And who is the man the neighbor saw at Campbell’s house before she died?”

“I just answered your third question,” Darby said. “As for the second one, people use drugs because they make stupid choices, especially celebrities.”

“That leaves one question unanswered, Sherlock,” Mel said, maybe just humoring her partner. “Why did Campbell hate her father?”

“Because he was probably never around,” Darby said. “He was a big shot TV detective when she was growing up. She never saw him and resented it.”

Mel shook her head. “I don’t buy it.” She looked at Edna. “I want to go back to Jimmy Castello. I think he’s holding something back.”

“Like what?” Edna growled.

“Maybe he molested her.”

Darby groaned. “And maybe monkeys will fly out of my ass.”

I chuckled. “I’d pay money to see that.”

“Enough,” Edna said, before Darby could respond.

As the lieutenant and Darby exchanged words, I mentally sifted through what we knew again. A scenario came to me. I wasn’t sure if all the pieces fit, but I decided it was worth laying out, and told everyone that.

As Darby huffed and puffed, Edna said to me, “Let’s hear it, but this better be good.” He looked at his unhappy detective. “I’m about out of patience.”

“We know that both Campbell Turner and Blake Lambert were cheating on one another,” I said, laying out the scenario. “Campbell was seeing her college boyfriend, Patrick Hopkins, while Lambert was seeing Alexis Teller. Let’s suppose for a moment that Lambert found out Campbell was cheating on him with her old boyfriend. He became jealous and enraged, but the focus of his anger was Campbell, rather than Hopkins. In time, he came up with a plan for the ultimate payback—to murder Campbell.

“Last Tuesday, Lambert began to put his plan in place. He went to Campbell’s house to kill her, but found that she’d already been murdered. She’d been beaten to death with his own hammer, which he’d left in a toolbox in her garage. While Lambert was still there, Luke Morgan came by the house, probably to give Campbell a quote for some remodeling, and realized she was dead. Lambert knew then he had a big problem. Morgan would tell the authorities that when he arrived at the home, he found him there with his dead girlfriend. Since Lambert knew his initials were engraved on the murder weapon, he also knew that would make him the prime suspect.”

“So Lambert decides to shoot Morgan, to take the blame off himself,” Leo said. “He then tells everyone that Morgan was already in the house, having killed Campbell before he got there. He claims Morgan came after him with the hammer and he had no choice but to shoot him. He later concocts a motive for the murder, telling everyone that Morgan had been stalking his girlfriend.”

“And we know now that the second, fatal shot to Morgan was at close range,” Mel added. “Making Lambert’s story less credible. We also know that Morgan was shy and immature, not someone prone to stalking behavior.”

Darby scratched his thinning hair and looked at me. “So, playing along with your crazy ass scenario, who killed Campbell?”

“Patrick Hopkins,” I said.

“I’m fucking confused,” Edna told me.

“Let’s suppose that when Blake Lambert found out Campbell was cheating on him with Hopkins, he confronted her. Campbell begged his forgiveness and once again broke things off with Hopkins. We know that Hopkins has an extreme problem with anger and alcohol, and this was the second time Campbell had chosen Lambert over him. He became so infuriated that he also came up with his own plan to kill Campbell. He knew, maybe from helping out around the house, that Lambert’s hammer was in the garage. He used that weapon to murder Campbell, thereby setting up Lambert for the crime.”

Leo followed along. “That, in turn, left Lambert with only one option to get out of the frame that had been set in place. He set Morgan up for Campbell’s death, telling us that he had no choice but to shoot him when Morgan came after him with the murder weapon.”

Edna shook his head. “It’s a huge stretch to think both Hopkins and Lambert went to Campbell’s house on the same day to murder her.”

“Not if they both knew it was rare for Campbell to have time off from shooting her soap opera. Hannah Montague told us they’d been shooting the show non-stop for a month. The day Campbell was murdered was the first day they weren’t in production in weeks.”

“I still don’t understand how Lambert ends up dead in a faked suicide,” Darby said. “Who killed him?”

“Hopkins. He knew that Lambert was aware that he and Campbell were involved again. He was probably worried that Lambert would eventually put things together about how he’d been framed and begin pointing his finger at him. Hopkins’ solution to the problem was to kill Lambert, make it look like a suicide, and leave a note blaming Morgan for Campbell’s murder. He believed that with Lambert’s suicide, all the loose ends would be tied up and the case would be closed.”

“It’s a nice story,” Edna said, “but it still leaves us with no explanation for the man the neighbor saw.”

“Agreed,” I said. “Some things might have gone the way we laid them out, but there’s still some missing pieces.”

“It’s a total wag,” Darby said.

“A what?”

“A wild ass guess, nothing but pure speculation.”

“Maybe the man who came by Campbell’s house was Jimmy Castello,” Mel suggested, ignoring her partner and going back to the lieutenant’s concern. “It could be that the neighbor just didn’t recognize him because he’s older than when he was on TV. I think we still need to go back to Castello.”

Edna levelled his eyes on her. “We’ve got enough problems with the brass and the press. We’re not going back to Castello unless we’ve got something solid.” The lieutenant leaned forward in his chair and dragged both hands through his graying hair. “Hopkins has to be found.” He looked at Selfie and Molly. “Does he have any ties to this area, other than to our victim?”

Selfie tugged on one of her half dozen ear piercings. “His parents are dead, no siblings.”

Molly had a mountain of paperwork that she’d been digging through. “There is an uncle, or...” She found a piece of paper in the stack, “...more precisely, he’s a half-uncle. Hopkins’ mother’s half-brother is Declan Murphy. He owns a cloud-based computing company called Murphy Industries. He’s worth a fortune and lives on a yacht in Marina del Rey.”

“Any indication Hopkins has ties to him?” Edna asked.

“None, but, since we’ve got nothing else, maybe it’s worth checking out.”

“Let’s do it,” Edna said. He looked at me. “You keep a low profile, like before. I want Hopkins found and I want those questions you have answered.” He cut his eyes to Darby. “Every now and then, a wild ass guess pays off.”