Hollywood Lust (7 page)

I got home a little after six and spent an hour getting ready for my dinner date with Noah. After my talk with Wilma Bibby, I had Selfie and Molly do some research on the company contracted to shred confidential materials for our R&I Department. As it turned out, CRS, or Confidential Records Solutions, had been in business for over a decade and had complete access to the secured record storage area. We were in the process of gathering names of the employees assigned to work the R&I building and hoped to have something in the next day or two.

After trying on three different outfits, I finally settled on a pleated black dress with matching pumps that I’d bought on sale at a Nordstrom Rack a couple of years ago. Dressing for a first date was always a little tricky. My outfit was a little flirty, but still on the conservative side, and I was happy with the result. My hair was another story. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the humidity in the air from the fog that had rolled in that afternoon, but my hair decided to flip up on one side, despite several attempts to tame it. I cursed myself for not having made an appointment at my brother’s salon and finally gave up.

I turned to Bernie and said, “Tell me the truth, does it look like I just came from your groomer?” He licked the air, which I decided was dog body language for, ‘I’ve seen better looking Pomeranians.’

Natalie and Mo had agreed to watch Bernie, so I took him next door before leaving. After Natalie met me at the front door and led us into their living room, she said to Mo, “Kate’s finally trying to do something with herself.”

Mo eyeballed me from her chair in front of the TV. “Your dress should be cut lower on top and it should be at least a foot shorter.”

I released a breath, looking down at my outfit. “You think it’s too conservative?”

Natalie gave me her opinion. “It would be fine for a funeral.” She looked at Mo. “Guess she’ll be home early tonight.”

Mo just shook her head and didn’t say anything.

I decided not to let their critique ruin my evening and changed the subject. “Anything new with the museum theft?”

Natalie answered. “Gladys has got her eye on a couple of toadies who are always broke, lookin’ for a payday. Mo and me might need to go undercover and we could probably use your help.”

“Undercover? I’m not sure what you mean.”

Mo waved a big arm. “Don’t worry ’bout it tonight. We’ll work out the details and let you know when we’re ready.” She changed the subject. “I heard on the streets you caught that case where that girl was sliced up over at MacArthur Park.”

Mo apparently had inside sources because she always knew what cases I was working. I saw no reason to deny it and said, “The poor girl had just gone for a jog when it happened.”

“I heard it wasn’t random.”

She now had my attention. “What do you mean?”

“Word on the streets is somebody had taken an interest in her and somebody else wasn’t happy ’bout it.”

If what she’d said was true, it put a new slant on our case. “Any idea who?”

She shook her head, which tonight was topped with a blue wig. “Not sure, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground, let you know what I hear.”

“I appreciate that.” I reached down and took Bernie off his leash. He went over and studied Mo, who was eating potato chips. She succumbed to his stare-down and tossed him one. “Go easy on the junk food. I think Bernie’s put on a couple of pounds.”

“Ain’t no weight watchers ’round here,” Mo said, tossing him another chip.

I decided it was useless to argue with her and turned to leave. Natalie followed me to the door, saying, “We’re gonna have us a little get together in a couple of nights and screen Nana’s episode of
Hollywood Girlz
. We want you to come.”

I turned back to her. “How did the filming go?”

Mo called over from the living room. “All I gotta say is Nana oughta get one of them Razzie awards. She couldn’t act her way out of a bad dress.”

“Now that conjures up a picture,” I said. “I’ll see you both later.”

***

I met Noah at a place called Providence on Melrose in Los Angeles, just a few minutes from Hollywood. The restaurant had a great ambiance and specialized in sustainable, wild-caught seafood. I’d never been disappointed in anything on their menu.

“You look amazing,” Noah said, greeting me with a hug on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

After we parted, I said, “That’s the best critique I’ve had all afternoon.” I saw his questioning look. “I dropped Bernie off with my friends who can sometimes be a little critical.”

“They sound like my sister.”

When we got inside the restaurant, Noah excused himself and went over and told the receptionist we had a reservation. My date had blue eyes and short blond hair. He was casually dressed in dark pants and an open collar gray shirt. He was even more handsome than I remembered from the last time I’d seen him when we took his therapy dogs to Children’s Hospital. Something about his smile and confident manner made me think that Noah Fraser would be comfortable in almost any situation.

After settling in and ordering a bottle of wine, we shared small talk, each of us mentioning how we spent our day.

“Nothing too exciting,” Noah said. “But I did make a house call to a horse at a ranch over in Topanga Canyon. She was having some stomach issues, so we gave her some medication for colic. It’s a pretty common problem.”

“At least it got you out of the office,” I said, at the same time deciding that I didn’t really want to talk about my cases. “I just spent my day doing interviews and pushing paper.”

“And Bernie? How’s the leg?”

I took a sip of my wine, a delicious Riesling. “Better. He’s back on regular duty.” I then made reference to his last escapade, chasing after a suspect and falling into a backyard swimming pool. “Hopefully he won’t go swimming without water in the pool again.”

We continued chatting until our food arrived. After taking a moment to savor the sashimi I’d ordered, I asked Noah about his earlier reference to his sister.

“Maggie is what I call a permanent student. She’s still in school, working on a masters in…” He chuckled. “Actually, I don’t know what she’s getting her degree in. It seems to change every few months.”

“She sounds like a girl with lots of interests.”

“And a know-it-all.”

“Oh, no. One of those.”

He took a bite of his sea bass and nodded. “Maggie has never found a subject she’s not an expert on.”

“She sounds a little like my sister, Amanda.” I took a moment, filling him in on my sister, who was living in Europe and trying to spend her husband’s considerable inheritance. “Needless to say, we don’t have a lot in common.”

Our talk about sisters made me think about Lindsay. I doubted that she would talk to me after our previous conversation, but I was still worried about her. I decided my best bet was to have Robin call her and make sure she was okay. My brother had a compassionate side to him, and I knew that he and Lindsay got along well.

I worked on my sashimi as Noah told me he also had a brother named Chase who was in the Navy. He then mentioned the time he’d spent in Iraq, the conversation eventually focusing on how he’d lost his leg during the war in Iraq almost a decade earlier.

“After a lot of fighting, Fallujah had finally been secured. We were on a routine morning patrol when our transport hit an IED.” His blue eyes misted over. “I guess you could say that’s when my world changed forever.”

“How long were you in the hospital?”

“Almost two years. There were a couple of surgeries and lots of rehab. I spent some of that time suffering from PTSD.”

I reached over and touched his hand. “It must have been so difficult. How did you…” I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “Are you still trying to deal with everything that happened?”

His gaze drifted off as he considered my question. “I guess, in some ways it will always be with me, but it also seems like it all happened a long time ago.” He smiled, looking back at me. “It probably sounds a little crazy, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

He took a moment, sipping his wine before answering. “What happened defined my life. Before my injury, I was…I guess you could say I was a little lost, trying to find myself. It took losing my leg to gain a larger perspective and begin to appreciate each day for the amazing gift that it is.”

I smiled, thinking about his description of life being a gift and about my love-dad saying something similar. As strange as it probably sounds, several weeks ago I’d had a conversation with my love-dad after Ted’s suicide. I still wasn’t sure if that discussion had been real or imaginary because of the trauma I’d suffered. All I do know is that my dad had told me that a gift is born into the world in the shadows of loss. It was a message that had helped me deal with the loss of Ted and the other losses in my life.

“What about you?”

What he’d said made my thoughts surface. “I’m sorry?”

He smiled. “Have you ever had an experience that defined your life?”

Maybe it was the wine working in my system, or the fact that, despite it being our first real date, I felt completely at ease with Noah, but I had no apprehension about telling him about my family situation. I took the next few minutes filling him in on everything, starting with what I knew about my love-dad, his murder at the hands of Ryan Cooper, and my current search to find my bio-dad. When I’d finished with the story, I told him about meeting with Collin Russell and about the letter my mother had written that I still hadn’t read.

After telling me that, in many ways, we were both survivors, Noah asked, “When do you think you’ll be ready to read her letter?”

I took a breath, thinking about his question. “I’m not sure. I think it’s like a lot of things, when the time is right, I’ll know.”

He smiled. “It sounds like we’ve both come a long way in our lives.”

“It’s been a long and winding road for me, but, just like with your injury, everything that’s happened to me has defined my life. It’s given me a greater understanding and appreciation of everything.”

Noah’s compassionate eyes held on me. “You’re a pretty amazing woman.”

I shook my head. “I’m just someone who’s trying to find my way in life, like everyone else. And, believe me, I’m still a work in progress.”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Thanks for sharing. I’d say, so far, it’s pretty terrific progress.”

After eating, we finished off our second bottle of wine. The conversation turned casual as we talked about Bernie, and Noah mentioned his work with a therapy dog group called Rafi’s Rescue.

“We’re taking the dogs to a fundraiser for autism at Will Rogers State Park this weekend, if you’d like to come along. Shaq’s going to be there and he told me he misses you.”

Shaq was a reference to one of the biggest, hairiest dogs I’d ever seen, who we’d taken to Children’s Hospital on our previous outing. I chuckled and said, “I would love to go. Let me check my schedule and I’ll let you know.”

“Great. We can also ride horses. There’s some pretty amazing trails around the park.”

After leaving the restaurant, Noah walked me to my car, an ancient Ford Escort that I call Olive.

He scratched his head, taking in my ride. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a classic.”

I laughed. “I’ve been in financial recovery ever since my divorce. Someday I’ll get it painted and pimped out with seventeen inch tires and fancy rims.”

He nodded slowly and smiled. “Now that’s something I’d like to see.”

After I again assured him that I’d let him know about the therapy dog outing, we shared a goodbye kiss. When our lips met, I felt my heart racing, and, for the first time in a long time, I felt something stirring deep inside of me. As we parted and I looked into his eyes, his words and those of my father about life being a gift born in the shadow of loss came back to me again. And then I had another thought: Noah Fraser just might be the gift that I’d been waiting a lifetime to receive.

The next morning Oz called us all into his office. He’d bought us some muffins, along with a container of coffee, something that I was grateful for because I hadn’t slept well. My date with Noah had been on my mind most of the night. I realized that I was developing feelings for him, and, if we continued to see one another, I would need to call things off with Hud. I dreaded having to do that, since our previous relationship hadn’t ended well.

As I sipped my coffee, I wondered if it would always be like this, me trying to sort out a personal life that seemed to be in a perpetual state of chaos. The more I thought about that, I realized that I’d lived my entire life with those feelings of instability. I sighed, deciding that I needed to put everything out of my mind and concentrate on our cases.

“Molly and I are going over to Bernstein Studios this morning,” Selfie told us as Leo ran a big hand over Bernie’s fur. “Based on the photos for the three years that Bruce Reeder worked there, it looks like there’s more than a couple hundred people we’re going to need to identify, and try to determine if there’s any link to him.”

Molly tucked her auburn hair behind one ear and said, “I think we should begin by trying to check out the people closest to him in each of the photographs. Maybe he had some connection to one of those subjects and it didn’t end well.”

“Maybe you should just go ask people on the street if they murdered Reeder,” Alex said. “It would be about as useful.”

My lack of sleep had left me with no patience for the little pork chop. “It might be a long shot, but it’s worth looking at.”

“Doesn’t hurt to check it out,” Leo agreed.

Alex gave him a hard stare. “Would Cold Case do the same thing?”

“No, but…”

“I rest my case.”

“This isn’t a court of law,” Leo said with his ever-present smile. Despite Alex trying to stir things up, the big detective kept his deep voice even. “And what I meant was that Cold Case has a different way of working cases. Since this homicide is now active again, it makes perfect sense to check it out.”

Oz interrupted Alex before he could respond, looking at Selfie and Molly. “Let’s see what you find out. If nothing turns up in a day or two, we’ll move on.”

I then mentioned going by the coroner’s office and Leo’s theory about Carla Hodge’s killer being left handed, something that Alex discounted, before adding, “The next thing you’re going to tell us is that the killer has green eyes and walks with a limp.”

I’d had enough. “Actually, no. We suspect he’s overweight and has a mustache.”

Selfie put a hand over her mouth but still giggled.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Alex barked.

“It means, I’ve had it with you discounting every lead we develop. If you’ve got a better idea how to work this case, let’s hear it.”

My tubby partner turned red. “We just…we work it…like any other case. We put boots on the ground and look for real leads.”

Oz again headed off the confrontation, this time our elderly lieutenant not mincing any words. “We stop all this back-biting right now.” His gaze swept over the room, locking in on each of us. “We work these cases for the victims, not out of ego or petty differences.”

The room was silent for a long moment before I mentioned what I’d learned from Wilma Bibby. “Confidential Records Solutions has the contract to do the shredding for several of the department’s divisions, including R&I. My friend Wilma thinks some of their employees are pretty immature. We’re trying to get a list of names together and see if anybody working there had a connection to Reeder or Hodge.”

“Let’s move on that today,” Oz said. “I got a call from the captain. The brass is worried about the press getting ahold of the information about the knife being taken from our evidence room. I want you to go by the shredding company today and put some pressure on them.”

“I think we should also follow-up with Reeder’s ex-wife,” Leo said. “Maybe the passage of time has jogged something loose in her memory.”

Alex drew in a breath and released it like a radiator venting steam, but kept quiet.

Oz looked at him and then turned to the rest of us. “Anything else?”

After we said there was nothing, the lieutenant excused everyone but asked me to stay behind for a moment. When we were alone, he seemed to relax for the first time all morning.

“So on a scale of one to ten, how bad is it really?” he asked.

I knew he was talking about working with Alex. “About a twelve.”

He rubbed his chin, regarding me. “That’s what I expected. He’s just…”

“An asshole.”

Oz nodded. “There’s that, and…” He smiled. “Just do your best. I’m working on that permanent partner for you, so don’t give up hope.”

“I appreciate that.” I stood up and started to get Bernie when he asked me to wait.

“Remember that TV show we talked about the other day?”

I sat down again and said, “Don’t tell me.”

“The department has agreed to shoot a pilot episode. They want Section One involved.”

“I have absolutely no interest in being on the show.”

“I understand, but…”

I waited while he brushed a hand through his snowy hair, maybe trying to find a way to be diplomatic. He finally said, “You’re going to get a call, asking that you participate. When it comes, just hear them out. If you still say you’re not interested, I’ll go to bat for you with the brass, try to keep you out of it.”

“I assume the call is going to come from the chief.”

Oz shook his head. “No, but I’m not at liberty to say anything more right now. I just wanted to prepare you.”

I stood up. “Why do I get the feeling there’s a lot more to this story?”

A cryptic smile found Oz’s face. “Because there is.”

***

I spent the morning making arrangements to interview Bruce Reeder’s ex-wife and go to CRS, while listening to Alex’s claims that Oz was playing favorites. I did my best to tune him out as Leo and I went over a list of names Brett Watson, the manager of the company, had sent over. We ran record checks on everyone on the list but came up with nothing worthwhile.

As the three of us drove with Bernie to meet with Reeder’s ex, as much as I hated to admit it, I was starting to feel like Alex might be right. We were chasing our tails with no real leads on the cases. My thoughts eventually drifted to our second victim, what Mo had said about her sources saying someone had taken an interest in Carla Hodge and somebody was unhappy about that. I hadn’t said anything about what she’d said in our meeting because I knew that Alex would accuse me of breaking confidentiality and talking about our case to my friends. I decided I would privately tell Leo what I’d learned because it was the only lead we had on a case that was going nowhere.

As for the Bruce Reeder case, I had to agree with Alex, that trying to find someone in the group photos that had a reason to kill our victim was a long shot. I then had a dismal thought that both the Reeder and Hodge cases might eventually end up in the cold case unit where they would stay forever.

Bruce Reeder’s ex lived in a condo complex on the outskirts of Inglewood, about twenty minutes from Hollywood. I knew from the original investigator’s reports that Tanya Morton was in her late forties, but, as she led us into her living room, it was obvious she was doing her best not to age gracefully. She was a willowy blonde woman who’d had lots of work done, not all of it successful. Her lips were full of collagen and she’d had a nose job that resulted in the feature being too small for her face. It was a little disconcerting as we made introductions and engaged in a little small talk before getting down to the business at hand.

Since Reeder was still Leo’s case, he began the questioning. “We’re going over your ex-husband’s case again, taking a look at the facts to be sure nothing was missed.”

Morton sighed. “It’s been years. Is there some new evidence?”

Leo shook his head. “Nothing definitive at this point.” He softened his tone. “We understand that you and Bruce were married for about five years.”

She nodded. “I already went over this…”

“I know you have. I’m sorry to bring this up again, but if you could help us out one more time we’d be very appreciative.”

After she released another heavy breath, Morton said, “Yes, we were together about five years before I began to suspect Bruce was…he was gay.”

“Was there something specific that happened that you became aware of?”

Her voice was full of contempt. “I caught Bruce in my bed with a man.” Her eyes moved away and her voice trailed off before adding, “I guess you could say that was pretty specific.”

“Who was he with?”

She looked at Leo again. “Just somebody he knew from college. I found out they’d been seeing one another for years.” She took a moment, her blue eyes losing focus. “Looking back, I wasn’t really surprised. I’d had my suspicions for years.”

Leo nodded. “Speaking of looking back, after all the time that’s passed since Bruce’s death, is there anyone who comes to mind that your husband was having problems with, maybe someone who would want to harm him?”

“Other than me, no, not really.” The skin on her forehead tightened. “I’m just kidding, of course. While I was unhappy and miserable in my marriage, I never thought about harming Bruce. He was…” She took a breath. “I think he was miserable trying to pretend he was straight. His life was pretty sad in a lot of ways.”

“Didn’t Bruce have a best friend…?” Alex referenced his notes, “Jason Quail?” He looked back at Morton. “Were they having problems?”

“He’s the reason Bruce left me. They were hot and heavy for a while, but…” She shook her head. “I can’t see him harming my husband.”

“What about Bruce’s work at Bernstein Studios?” I asked. “Was he having issues or conflict with anyone there?”

Her blue eyes turned away from me as she thought about my question. I couldn’t help but stare at her odd features, wondering if she realized what her plastic surgeon had done to her appearance.

“There was somebody, now that I think about it.” She looked back at me. “I don’t really know all the details, but Bruce said there was a young man, I think he was just a kid, really. He told me he was a jerk and he had some issues with him.”

“What kind of issues?”

She shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”

“Do you remember his name?”

She shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t even think about him until just now. It’s probably nothing.”

After pressing her for more details and not getting anything, we left her condo. As Bernie sniffed a flowerbed, I asked Leo and Alex for their thoughts.

“What she said about Reeder having conflict with someone, it’s probably nothing,” Alex said. “Almost every business has one or two jerks who cause problems.”

I bit my lip as Leo smiled and said, “Nevertheless, it’s worth keeping in mind.”

***

Confidential Records Solutions, or CRS, was a state-wide corporation specializing in the storage, maintenance, and shredding of confidential files. After our meeting with Bruce Reeder’s ex, we met with Brett Watson, the on-site manager for CRS, who told us about the company.  The thirty-something manager, who was thin and balding, explained about their screening process for new employees after we took seats in his office.

“There’s a thorough background completed on everyone, including record checks, and, of course, our employees are bonded.”

Watson had only been told that we were looking into a breach of confidential records at R&I.

“Who does the background checks for your company?” I asked.

“We have a contractor. I can get you the name if you’d like.”

I nodded and waited as he went over and fished through a file cabinet. Alex rolled his eyes and made huffing sounds, body language that he was already annoyed.

After he gave me a folder with information about the contractor, I removed the list of employee names from my briefcase that Watson had sent over to us earlier. There were over two dozen individuals who’d had access to our R&I Division over the years. I asked Watson if he knew any of the employees personally.

He nodded. “I’ve only been with the company for the past three years, but I know most of our employees. I try to be hands on.”

I glanced down at the list and then back at him. “I need you to take a moment and look at the names again. Does anyone stand out as having problems or maybe being difficult? We need to hear about anything you can think of that might seem a little out of the ordinary, no matter how insignificant it might seem.” I handed over the list, thinking I wasn’t going to get much back.

Watson exhaled. “I don’t need to see the list.”

My brows inched together. “Why is that?”

He reached over and tapped a name in the middle of the page. “Galen Marshall. He resigned a few weeks back. I don’t know if he did anything out of policy…”

My pulse quickened. “Go on.”

“Corporate didn’t want me to say anything, but Marshall’s a hot head with a bad attitude. I wanted to fire him, but…”

When he didn’t go on, I said, “But what?”