Hollywood Lust (12 page)

The next day I met Noah and his therapy dog group, Rafi’s Rescue, at Will Rogers State Park in the Pacific Palisades, about forty minutes from Hollywood. The ranch consisted of a western ranch house, stables, polo fields, a golf course, and riding stables on land the one-time movie star and radio personality had owned. I read some history about Rogers on a placard as I walked to the area where the therapy dogs were gathered. I learned that the actor was the highest paid performer in Hollywood in the early 1930’s. Rogers had a famous quote about him never meeting a man he didn’t like. Obviously, he hadn’t dealt with some of the people I had over the years.

I hadn’t heard anything further from the feds about our case. Even though I had no desire to deal with Janice Taylor or her group again, I made a mental note to call Joe Dawson and ask what was going on. I knew that it was a matter of time until something else happened, and I knew it wouldn’t be good.

“I’m glad you’re here and you brought Bernie,” Noah said, after greeting me.

I glanced down at my big dog, who was panting. “I’m not sure how he’ll do. He usually administers a different kind of therapy than what’s going on here.” I saw there were dozens of dogs, all of them working with kids who had autism. It was heartwarming to see their interaction with children who sometimes had trouble emotionally connecting to others.

“Bernie will do fine,” Noah said. “I’ve got an assistant who will keep an eye on him later while we’re riding horses.”

We spent the next couple of hours interacting with the dogs and children. Noah’s huge dog Shaq was a big hit with the kids. He had a way of lowering his head and demonstrating his unconditional love for anyone who paid attention to him, something that worked well with the kids who befriended him.

Late in the day I turned Bernie over to Noah’s assistant in his veterinarian practice. We then arranged to take a couple of horses up something called Inspiration Point Trail. When we arrived at the highest point of the dirt pathway we saw that it had a 360 degree view of the surrounding countryside and the ocean.

“It’s beautiful,” I told Noah after we secured the horses and took seats on a bench with magnificent vistas.

“I’ve only been up here once before, several years ago. It’s pretty amazing.” After taking in the views, he asked me about my week.

My chest rose and fell. I ran a hand through my hair. For once, I was happy with what Robin had done with my recalcitrant locks. “It’s been…” I looked at him. “…a little difficult. I’ve been working with the feds on a case, in addition to my regular duties.”

He held on my eyes for a moment. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

I smiled. “I appreciate that. What about you?”

“Just dealt with a couple of sick cows, a few problems with dogs, and…” He smiled. “…a little girl brought in an iguana that was having stomach problems.”

I laughed. “What do you do for an iguana with a stomach ache?”

“I think he ate part of the girl’s plastic toy. I told her we would just have to wait and let nature take care of things. It might sound funny, but sometimes doing nothing is the best thing you can do. Some things just need time to take their natural course.”

We chatted aimlessly for the next few minutes before the conversation turned to his parents. “Dad worked a factory job all his life and retired a couple of years ago. He had a heart attack six months later and died.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

His blue eyes took in the ocean. “He never got to enjoy his retirement.” He looked back at me. “That and my injury have made me realize the importance of slowing down and enjoying each moment. It all passes by way too quickly.”

I agreed with him and then asked, “What about your mother?”

“She lives over in the valley. Mom’s…” He focused on the beautiful view for a moment before finding me again. “She hasn’t been quite the same since dad died. I try to go by once a week, but she’s pretty lonely.”

I told him I understood how difficult it can be dealing with parents, and then, recalling that I’d already given him our family history, I chuckled and said, “And believe me, I’m an expert on the subject.”

Remembering that I’d already told him about reading my mother’s first letter, he asked, “Did you read any of your mother’s other letters yet?”

I shook my head. “I’m not really sure why I’m delaying. Maybe I’m a little afraid of what I’ll find out.”

He reached over and took my hand. It was unexpected, but at the same time sent a jolt of excitement through me. “Like I said before sometimes doing nothing is the best course. When you’re ready, you’ll know it, and if you need to talk through anything after you read them I’m here for you.”

“I appreciate that.”

He came closer and swept the hair out of my eyes. “Do you know you’re beautiful?”

Despite my best efforts, I found myself blushing. “I don’t…”

He interrupted. “I don’t think you do. Maybe it’s because of everything that’s happened in your life, you discount what is perfect and beautiful about you—what’s beautiful on both the outside and the inside.”

Now I was really blushing. I looked away. “Thank-you.”

His hand came over and gently turned me to face him. Our lips came together and that jolt of excitement I felt earlier exploded. We spent the next several minutes, holding onto one another and kissing. The sudden surfacing of feelings that felt like they’d been buried under an avalanche of loss took me by surprise. I realized that for the first time in a long time I felt alive, almost giddy.

After we parted, he said, “And, just in case you didn’t know, you’re a damn fine kisser too.”

I smiled. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“Are you busy next Tuesday night?”

“I don’t think I have any plans but, with my job, I’m never sure about my schedule.”

“How about I come by your place and fix you dinner. I’m a pretty good cook, and…” He took a moment, brushing the hair off his forehead. “It just sounds nice being alone with you and seeing where you live. In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m not big on crowds or fancy places.”

“Me neither. I think I’d like that.” I then had a sudden thought. “I probably should warn you. My best friends Natalie and Mo live next door. They’re…” I took a breath. “You’ve got to see them to believe them. They can sometimes be a little difficult.”

He came closer, our lips lightly brushing. “You forget something, Kate.”

I wanted to kiss him but held off for a moment. “What’s that?”

“I’ve been to war.”

***

I said my goodbyes to Noah a little after seven and drove home with Bernie. The afternoon outing had been therapeutic, helping me forget all about work for a few hours and rekindling feelings that I’d almost forgotten I had. My affection for Noah was growing stronger by the day and I knew I needed to call Hud and tell him things were off between us. I dreaded doing that to him for a second time, but I also knew it was only fair. I’d been treated badly in relationships too many times not to do the right thing.

When I got to my apartment complex, I saw there was a gathering near the courtyard pool. I suddenly remembered my friends telling me they were hosting a get-together for the screening of Nana’s first episode of
Hollywood Girlz.
I was tired and had no desire to attend, but I’d made a promise to stop by.

Bernie and I wandered over and I saw that my friends were there, along with Nana and Natalie’s boyfriend Izzy. Their co-star on the show, Carly Hogg, also came out of the crowd and joined us, along with the show’s director, George Kong.

After saying my hellos to everyone and being introduced to a couple of actors and a script writer that I hadn’t met before, Nana wasted no time embarrassing me.

“Kate is what you call a born-again virgin,” she said to the gathering. “She’s probably the oldest virgin in Hollywood.”

Carly Hogg joined in the mirth at my expense, slapping me on the back and saying, “You should write a book, call it
The Merry Cherry
. It could be a best seller.”

I was blushing down to my toes as Nana spoke up again, saying I should sell tickets to the event when I lost what I didn’t have for a second time.

Mo, probably realizing that I was about to lose it—and I’m not talking about my mythical virginity—took me over to a makeshift bar to get a drink.

“Just ignore her,” Mo said, looking back at Nana, who was wearing a slinky dress that made her look like she was the world’s oldest star on a red carpet. “This acting stuff has gone right to her head and I’m not sure there was much up there to begin with.”

I took a sip of the wine I’d ordered. “I don’t know how you put up with her.”

Natalie came over. She was wearing a low cut, off the shoulder black dress that made her look like she definitely should be on the red carpet. “Sorry ’bout what she said, Kate. Sometimes I think Nana lost the plot a few years back. I wouldn’t pay her any more attention than a fart in a twister.”

I told them I appreciated their support. Mo then changed the subject, telling me what she’d heard about the Carla Hodge case on the streets. “According to a working girl I talked to, the guy who sliced her up was into some kinky shit.”

I thought about Galen Marshall being into knives and how he’d carved his initials into Lisa Jones’ back. “Did you get a name?”

She shook her head, which tonight was a black beehive of curls. “Not sure, but I heard he’d messed with other girls before the one he whacked.”

“Maybe he’s a Hollywood version of Jack the Ripper,” Natalie suggested. “He carves girls up like a jack-o-lantern just for fun.”

“Maybe…” I decided to tell them what I knew. “We think a guy named Galen Marshall could be involved. Have either of you ever heard of him?”

I got headshakes before Mo said she would ask around about him. We all then turned our attention to George Kong. The director made an announcement that Nana’s episode was about to be shown on the TV monitor set up near the pool. We went over and took seats as he told us about Nana’s character on the show.

“Winnie, or Winifred Crabtree, is a rather over-the-top character,” Kong said, looking at Nana. “She’s also someone who won’t take no for an answer.”

“Can I help it if I’m always right?” Nana said, standing next to him. “Maybe I should also have my own talk show one of these days. I could give people advice about how to live their lives.” She looked at me. “I could start with Kate, since she’s a big mess.”

Mo heaved out a long breath as everyone laughed. I was having homicidal thoughts about our former landlord as she said, “The show has really gone to her head. There’s no hope for any of us.”

I was sitting between her and Natalie, who leaned over to us and whispered, “Not to worry. Izzy’s gonna use her for practice when he does his Hollywood Sign performance.”

“What you talkin’ ’bout, baby sis?”

Natalie smiled. “You’ll see, right after the show’s over.”

After Kong went on a few minutes longer and Nana told the gathering she was going to develop an English accent so that she would sound like Meryl Streep—maybe Nana thought the actress was British because of a performance where she played Margaret Thatcher—we all watched Nana’s television debut.

The episode involved Nana playing a widow who was looking for love after moving in next door to Carly and my friends on the show. She wasted no time, making everyone’s life miserable, not unlike her role in real life. The show ended with her and Carly getting into a heated argument, but Nana got in the last word by telling everyone that she was going to spice up things at their apartment complex.

As the credits rolled and Nana took her bows, Natalie’s boyfriend stood and walked over to her. He addressed the gathering, “That performance was remarkable.” He looked at Nana. “So remarkable that I believe there should be an encore.”

“What are you doing?” Nana demanded. “This is my show, and…”

Izzy interrupted. “Sorry, sweetheart, but your show has just been canceled.”

Nana placed her hands on her skinny hips and said, “What are you talking about?”

A small explosion suddenly lit up the area around Nana like fireworks exploding. A puff of smoke followed and we all watched as she disappeared into thin air.

I turned to my friends, who were on their feet clapping, and said, “Who said prayers are never answered?”

Unfortunately, Nana survived her disappearing act, coming out of the crowd a couple of minutes later and telling everyone she was in on Izzy’s trick. Natalie had told her boyfriend that she would give him a night he would never forget if he could make the disappearance permanent. I had the feeling that if it was within Izzy’s power, Nana might just be dust in the wind.

When I got home I decided to call Hud and tell him things were off between us. I didn’t specifically mention Noah, but said I thought we should be free to see other people. The conversation went okay, but I could tell he was disappointed. He said he was leaving the country on business for a few weeks anyway and it was probably better not to leave our relationship in limbo.

After ending the call, I poured myself a glass of wine and watched TV for a few minutes. After not finding anything worth watching, I texted Lindsay but got no response. It again made me wonder if Ice was controlling her use of the phone. I decided all I could do for now was to try and keep the lines of communication open and assure her that I was here for her if she needed anything.

My thoughts then drifted to Noah, the wonderful day that we’d shared. I still wasn’t positive that this was the relationship I’d been waiting for, the gift born in the losses that I’d suffered in my life that my father had told me about, but being with Noah felt about as perfect to me as anything I’d ever known. I found him to be kind, compassionate, and someone who had taken the losses in his own life and moved past them in the best way imaginable.

I remembered our conversation as we sat on the bench overlooking the ocean, how he said that if I needed to talk to anyone after reading my mother’s other letters, he would be available. What he’d said made me realize it was time to move on and read the second letter.

I went into the bedroom with Bernie trailing behind, where I removed the second letter from the manila envelope. I sat on the edge of my bed, took a deep breath, and opened it. I saw that this letter was dated June 6
th
, 2000. I blinked back tears, realizing that I would have been sixteen at the time it was written. I took a moment and brought the letter closer, inhaling like before. If the scent of my mother had been on the pages, it was gone, disappearing like the years that had separated us. I then took another deep breath and began reading words that came to me from the murky past where the secrets of my life were hidden.

***

June 6
th
, 2000

Hello my angel,

I saw you today! It took me weeks of planning but I was finally able to get away. I waited outside your school and saw you walking home. Oh, how I wanted to go to you, tell you that I’m your mother, and that I love you…

Judie Crawford put her pen down. This letter, written years after the first one, brought her almost as much pain and emotion. The garden where she sat became a watery blur as tears rolled down her cheeks. The deluge was so profound that her entire body convulsed with sobs.

She took several deep breaths and finally controlled her emotions. She glanced back toward the house. Ryan had promised to take Lindsay to a soccer game. She’d seen them leaving together but knew her husband couldn’t be trusted. There had been dozens of times that he’d made promises over the years and then had gone back on his word. Her husband was an abusive liar and she didn’t believe anything he said or did.

After checking the house again, Judie was satisfied that she was alone. She walked back to the bench in the garden where her pad and pen awaited. She tried to steady her nerves, wondering how to begin. How do you tell a daughter you’ve never known that the man who had raised her when she was a child had been killed because of a cover-up?

Judie’s mind tumbled back in time. Kate had been four years-old at the time John Sexton, the man who she’d chosen to raise her daughter, had died. She remembered seeing on the evening news that he’d been murdered. After she’d dealt with the emotion of what happened, she’d become sickened and revolted. She knew the monster that had forced her to marry him and controlled every aspect of her life had killed him. It had all been made clear to her when she’d confronted him after learning about the killing.

“You…I saw what happened yesterday…on the news.” She’d tried to control her feelings, but the tears came. Through a torrent of emotion she’d said, “You killed John, didn’t you?”

Ryan’s face had contorted into something that bordered on rage. “I had to…” His eyes darkened. “Besides, you still have feelings for him, don’t you?”

“No…I…it’s nothing like that.”

His dark, brooding gaze held on her. “If you understood the truth about…everything, you’d understand why I had to do it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It was a job. Sexton was beginning to put things together about someone I’ve been working for. It was made clear to me that I had no choice.” He’d glowered at her. “You, of all people, should understand that. You know who I work for.”

That was the moment when she’d begun to piece everything together. Ryan had been a make-up artist. He’d worked for some of the most powerful people in Hollywood. Then, all at once, other things fell into place and she knew.

She remembered the look on Ryan’s face when she said to him, “This is about what happened to Jean Winslow, isn’t it?”

A thin smile had found Ryan’s lips. “The truth will never be known.” The man she was married to and despised had come closer to her, grabbing her arm and twisting it until she’d screamed. “And if you ever say anything to anyone, you will regret the day you were ever born.”

Judie pushed the thoughts of that day away but in that moment she had understood everything. Ryan had worked for some of Hollywood’s elite, the power brokers who controlled the studios. And she knew one of those men, maybe the most powerful man in Hollywood, had become infatuated with the actress. A month earlier, Jean Winslow had been found dead in the back yard of her home. They had said it was a drug overdose, but she knew better. Even the press didn’t believe what was being reported. Ryan had learned that John Sexton was working part-time in his off hours at the studios and had found out about what really happened. He had murdered the man who was raising her daughter to cover up the crime.

Judie took a deep breath and sat back down, leaving those memories in the past. She tried to focus. How do you begin? How do you tell a child about the deep mystery that is at the center of her life?” She had no answers. All she did know was that she had to tell her the truth. Maybe someday, if Kate got the letters, she would understand. It was the right thing to do.

Her trembling hand picked up the pen and she began again.

I know this will be difficult for you to hear, but what happened to your father...there’s much more to the story.

***

I was so stunned and upset by what I’d read that I dropped my mother’s letter, the pages fluttering through the air and landing at Bernie’s feet. I reached down, gathering up the papers, even as my tears fell on them.

“Oh, God,” I said aloud, overcome with emotion after hearing a truth that had taken over thirty years to find me. I felt the need to say aloud what I now knew. “My father, the man who raised me, was killed to cover up the murder of Jean Winslow.”

I stood up and began pacing around the room, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. My father, or the man I considered to be my father, had been a cop, a patrol officer, when I was a child. I knew that he’d worked part-time at the studios, doing security work. That was where he’d apparently met and become involved with Judie Crawford.

Even after he and Judie broke up, from what my adoptive mother had told me, my father had continued to work at the studios. That must have been where he’d learned about the cover-up of Winslow’s death and it had cost him his life. The realization that the man who had raised me had been murdered to cover-up the highest profile death in Hollywood history was overwhelming.

I sat back on the bed, dragging a hand through my hair. “Who?” I said aloud. “Who was the studio mogul who had fallen in love with Jean Winslow?” I had no idea. All I did know was that one way or another I would find out. And then, all at once, I realized something else. It felt like my life had been fated, that I’d waited a lifetime to come to this moment of clarity. I was going to solve my father’s murder and, at the same time, solve the biggest crime Hollywood had ever known.”

My cell phone buzzed. I picked it up and answered without checking the number.

“Kate, it’s Joe Dawson. Something big is breaking on our case.”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s The Swarm. Janice Taylor has given them a signal to begin killing people tomorrow. Greer wants us in Denver first thing in the morning.”