Hollywood Lust (21 page)

After not getting much sleep I dropped Bernie off with my friends the next morning before an FBI driver picked me up. Commander Rob Nelson was already in the car. As we drove, I asked Nelson why he was tagging along.

“It’s a show of solidarity. The department wants to put its best foot forward regarding Taylor’s confession.” The commander, who was in his mid-fifties, bald and thin, smiled. “It never hurts to take a little credit when one of the biggest cases in American history ends with a confession.”

I unbuttoned my black blazer and released a breath. “This isn’t over.”

His brows lifted. He had one of those know-it-all bureaucratic smiles that I hate.

I went on, “Taylor might confess, even ask for the death penalty, but there are others who will take her place.”

“The Swarm?”

“Along with the other leaders in her group, those left of the original seven.”

The commander lowered his baritone voice. “After Taylor signs her confession, there will be a news conference and press release. We’re going to announce that we have those who acted on Taylor’s behalf in the killings in Florence in custody.”

“Who are they?”

“Their names will be released at the press conference. They were basically dupes, acting in concert with Taylor to set up the killings before she was arrested. They confessed to everything and admitted it had all been planned for weeks.”

“Did they implicate anyone else?”

Nelson shook his head. “Just between you and me, Chief East spoke with the head of the FBI yesterday. They believe the threat from this group has been neutralized.”

“Really?”

A nod. “While, there may be other isolated actors out there who are still dangerous, with Taylor and the others going down, the concern is now minimal.”

“So, neither the FBI nor the department is concerned about the others, like Taylor, who are giving the orders behind the scenes?”

Nelson splayed his hands. “The concern at this point is general, not specific.” I got another bureaucratic smile. “The chief is very pleased with your actions and the outcome of this case.” The smiled broadened, making me wish I had a barf bag. “Good job, Detective.”

There wasn’t much small talk after that. Nelson and I boarded the FBI jet and flew in silence. It didn’t entirely surprise me that the threat from Taylor’s group had been minimized. Her confession would make for lots of positive press and sound bites. The bigger picture would get lost and the story would quickly become old news as the press moved on to the latest sensational story. I’d seen it happen too many times to count, and it was something that I planned to talk to Greer and Dawson about. The threat was real and still out there, and, if I had anything to say about it, the case wouldn’t end with Janice Taylor’s confession.

As we traveled, my thoughts eventually drifted back to last night’s conversation with Lana Palmer. I had the impression that she’d been honest with us. Her affair with Donald Regis had probably caused a permanent rift in her relationship with Jean Winslow. It seemed increasingly likely that my love-dad had tried to protect Winslow and ended up paying the ultimate price for it. And it was now apparent that both Donald Regis and Kellen Malone had been involved in Winslow’s life at that time, along with Ryan Cooper, who was her make-up artist. It all smelled of a conspiracy and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.

The knowledge that Winslow had probably been killed as a premeditated act of domestic violence caused me to again think about Lindsay’s circumstances. I felt like fate was waving lots of red flags in front of me, telling me that I had to do something to protect her. I decided that when our case was over I’d either find a way to talk some sense into my sister or make plans to go see her.

Some of my anxiety lessened when I checked my phone and saw that I’d received a text from Noah before we’d boarded the plane. He told me how much he’d enjoyed our dinner together and was looking forward to our trip to Santa Barbara. I returned the text and the sentiment, thinking how my relationship with Noah felt like the best thing that had happened to me in years.

We arrived in Denver just after ten and a driver took us to the Federal District Courthouse. The area around the federal building was heavily congested, with lots of security and press from all over the country. After moving through several checkpoints we managed to work our way inside the building, where we met with Joe Dawson and John Greer in a first floor hallway.

“They’re supposed to bring Taylor in through the underground security tunnels,” Greer told us. “In fact, she may already be in the building.” He focused on me. “Her attorney wants to meet with you first. She told me that Taylor has made it clear to her that she wants you to be present when she signs the confession.”

“I want in,” Dawson said. “I’ve been on this case with Kate from the beginning. I’ve earned the shot.”

Greer looked up at Dawson, his lungs deflating. “We can try, but…”

“I also want to be present,” Commander Nelson said. “LAPD has been instrumental in taking down Taylor. We’ve also earned the right to be in the room.”

Greer glanced at a nearby conference room and said, “I’d also like to be present. We can plead our case to Gwen Macy, she’s the public defender representing Taylor. She’s been waiting for over twenty minutes, so we’d better get in there and see what she has to say.”

“Nice of you all to finally make an appearance,” Macy said a few minutes later as we took seats around a table in the conference room where she’d been waiting. “My client has been downstairs in a holding cell for over an hour.”

“Sorry to waste her valuable time,” Dawson said. “I’m sure she’s got dozens of errands to run back at supermax.”

Greer headed off the confrontation before Macy could respond, making brief introductions. The public defender then took over again, fixing her eyes on me. “Ms. Taylor plans to make a full confession, with one stipulation. She wants you in the room.”

“Why me?”

Macy was a large woman, with dark hair and muddy brown eyes that gave me the impression she’d lost a part of herself dealing with her clientele. “All I know is that because of everything that’s happened in the past…she feels some kind of connection to you.”

Greer spoke up. “I’d like to be present, along with Agent Dawson and Commander Nelson. We’ll keep quiet, stay in the background.”

Macy shook her head. “My client made it clear. No one else is to be in the room.”

I felt heat spreading across my chest and up to my cheeks. Just the thought of being in the room alone with Taylor pushed my anxiety level off the charts. I also resented the fact that she was trying to dictate the rules.

“I want them in the room or I don’t go in,” I said.

Macy’s gloomy eyes fixed on me again. “Are you telling me you’re willing to forego a confession because of your own…safety concerns? There will be guards outside the room, watching everything from the security cameras.”

I knew the attorney’s question was about her trying to exert power as much as it was about belittling my concerns.

I didn’t break eye contact with Macy. “I’m saying we try this our way. Your client is the one facing multiple counts of murder and conspiracy. She’ll eventually get the death penalty, whether her conviction is due to an admission or trial.”

“We’ll see about that.” Macy’s unblinking eyes remained fixed on mine. Her head finally moved up and down. “Okay. We’ll try it your way.”

We made our way downstairs through an elaborate maze of elevators and corridors before we got to the secure interview room where Janice Taylor was waiting for us. We stopped at the one-way glass, where I studied the prisoner for a moment. I was again struck by the dramatic change in Taylor’s appearance. In addition to the tattoos and carvings, it looked like she’d pulled out more of her hair. There were now only a few strands of dark hair that hung over her face like a curtain concealing her dark eyes and the madness therein.

Gwen Macy turned to me. “Ready?”

I took a breath, nodded, and followed her inside, while the others trailed behind. I took a seat next to Macy, directly across from Janice Taylor. Greer and the others took seats at the side of the room, a few feet behind us, in an effort to minimize their presence.

As I settled into my chair, I realized Taylor’s eyes were locked on me. My own eyes came up and fixed on her. The stare-down lasted for a full minute before Macy broke the silence.

“I have the previously discussed paperwork…”

“NO!” Taylor’s voice blasted through the room like a loudspeaker. She jutted her chin toward my entourage. “They have to leave.”

Her attorney tried to explain. “They’re here representing their agencies. I promise they won’t…”

Taylor was defiant, uncompromising, as she cut off Macy. “Either they leave, or I do.”

I studied her for a moment. The prisoner was wearing the same khaki shirt and pants issued to her in Florence. She had her hands cuffed in front of her and she wore belly chains but still managed to partially fold her arms across her chest in defiance. Her gaze came back over to me at the same time Macy also looked in my direction, lifting her brows.

I knew this was my decision. If I insisted the others stay in the room Taylor would make good on her word and not cooperate. That meant there would be months, if not years, of legal proceedings before she was finally convicted. There would also be lots of ensuing publicity, probably increasing interest in The Swarm and her followers.

I stood up and walked back to Greer and the others. “You need to wait outside.”

Dawson shook his head. “I don’t like this. She’s…”

“She’s in chains, Joe. You’ll be right outside.” I held on his pale eyes. “Please. Let’s just get this over with.”

Dawson glanced at the others. He looked back at me and nodded. In a moment, the door had closed behind them. I returned to the table, sat down, and said, “Let’s finish this.”

While Gwen Macy shuffled the packet of paperwork in front of her, Taylor said, “My sentiments, exactly.”

I turned to Macy while she organized the papers and didn’t see the sudden movement across the table. The room exploded in a frenzy of activity that caught me by surprise. It took me a moment to realize that Janice Taylor had flung herself across the table. Then I saw the shiny improvised knife in her hand. I tried to reach up to stop her, but it was too late. Blood spurted across the room. Gwen Macy had been stabbed in the throat. 

Even as I pulled Taylor away from her lawyer she continued to lash out at her. Macy was on the floor, screaming, and bleeding profusely.

“You’re also a dead woman,” Taylor screamed at me. She swung the makeshift weapon in my direction but missed when I took a step back. She then fell to the floor, balling herself up and rolling away from me.

I heard alarms sounding, and there were lights flashing outside the interview room. I looked up, realizing that Dawson and the others were trying to get back inside the room but the door was locked. I then heard faint voices, something about an override to the system.

Taylor was still on the floor, now using her feet to try and keep me at bay until she could use her knife again. “It’s happening,” she screamed. “This can’t be stopped.”

“What’s happening?” I demanded as she kicked at me. “What are you going to do?”

Taylor’s lips twisted up into a grin. “I’m going to be leaving you shortly, but the others—The Swarm—they’re coming.”

I glanced over and saw that Dawson and Greer were kicking at the door, trying to break it down.

I left Taylor, who was now screaming at me like a mad-woman, and checked on her attorney. The color was gone from Macy’s face and her breath was shallow. I knew she’d be dead in a matter of minutes if I didn’t do something.

I went over to the door. It had one of those automatic locks that was controlled by a guard station. I pulled on the handle, at the same time the others tried to break it down.

I screamed at one of the guards in the control station, “Try to unlock it.”

The guard looked baffled, but did as I said. The lock clicked several times but remained in place. I took a chair and slammed it against the door but it was useless. The glass was unbreakable and it remained locked. I was still working on the door when Taylor came for me. I turned, just in time to grab hold of her as she pushed up from the floor. The makeshift weapon in her hand clattered to the ground.

I then used my size, and the advantage of having my assailant in chains, to gain control of her. I knocked Taylor back and pinned her down. “You aren’t going to get away with this.”

She laughed in a way that made me realize I was dealing with someone who had lost any hold she’d once had on her sanity. “You don’t understand, Detective. It’s already over.”

I used my forearm, pinning her head harder against the cement floor. “What do you mean?”

“I’m dying…” She seemed to lose focus for a moment. I felt her body slacken. She then said, “I took a fatal dosss…” Her eyes rolled back in her head.

I gripped her harder and shook her, trying to force her to talk to me. “Tell me about the others, the original seven. Who is left?”

Her laughter was weak as a breath rattled in her throat. “There’s only one…”

“One what?”

She wheezed. Her voice was barely audible, “One that…you need to…worry about…”

“Who…who are you talking about?”

Janice Taylor’s chest heaved and her breathing seemed to completely stop. I moved closer to her, thinking she might be dead. I pleaded, “Tell me, please.”

I had almost given up hope when she gasped some air into her lungs. The final words she spoke blasted through me, nearly shattering my own sanity. “Ice is one of us…he’s got your sister.”