Hollywood Murder (27 page)

The sun was sinking low on the horizon by the time Frank Dyer docked his boat in the Redondo Beach Yacht Harbor. He’d chosen the marina that was a couple of hours south of Malibu because of its secluded location. He knew the authorities would be watching the larger harbors, and the small, private marina was the perfect place to offload his bounty and meet Sasha.

The time he’d spent scuba diving a few years back had served him well. He’d offloaded the ransom from the dinghy beneath the pier in Malibu, and transported it underwater to the small boat he’d rented and docked offshore. He’d even waved to the idiot cops swarming the pier before leaving, knowing they would think he was just another fisherman

He saw his beautiful companion waving to him as he carried the bag with his precious cargo up the dock. “I see everything went as you expected,” Sasha said, coming over to him.

“I told you not to worry. How are the insurance policies?”

She nodded to the van in the parking lot and laughed. “They’ve been all tied up, waiting patiently for you.”

He had brought Allison and her daughter along only as leverage. He would have released them in exchange for the money as a final option if things hadn’t gone as planned. While he was pleased that hadn’t been necessary, it now left him with another problem.

“What happens to them now?” Sasha asked as they walked to the van.

“We take them back into the mountains, to that place I picked out before.” He regarded her for a moment. Her expression had changed. She was somber. After all her bluster, he decided she probably didn’t have it in her to kill the kid. “I can drop you at the cabin and take care of things myself, if you want.”

Sasha shook her head, brushed the brown hair off her forehead. “I’m in all the way. We’ll do it together.”

The drive to Big Bear took them a little over three hours because of heavy traffic. Along the way, they talked about their considerable payday.

“I want to get one of those expensive ocean front rooms in Santa Barbara and have a massage,” Sasha said. “Then I want to go shopping for a whole new wardrobe.”

Frank grinned at her. “Don’t forget, you have a promise that you need to take care of tonight.”

She reached over, cupped a hand around his neck, and kissed him. “I’m going to give you a night you will never forget.”

“I’m counting on it.”

By the time they reached the mountains, the conversation had drifted away. It gave Frank time to make some decisions. Sasha was a gorgeous woman, but she was also high maintenance. He knew that if he shared the money with her, she would find a way to blow through the fortune in a few years. That would never happen. After their wild weekend in Santa Barbara, he would take Sasha boating. That outing would be a one-way trip. His beautiful companion had served her purpose. It was almost time for her to go away permanently.

When they finally reached the secluded location a few miles from a mountaintop ski area, Sasha said, “This is the middle of nowhere.”

Frank glanced at her. “That’s the idea. Allison and her kid will only be a distant memory soon.” He pulled the van off the dirt road, aiming his headlights into the clearing where the two graves had been dug days earlier. “Let’s get them out. You can handle the kid.”

When the door to the van rumbled open and Frank shone his light on Allison and her daughter, he saw they were terrified. The girl was crying and her mother had managed to work the duct tape covering her face loose.

“Why are we…stopping here?” Allison said. Her eyes shone like a wounded animal that had been trapped.

“Potty break.” Frank pulled her out of the van by the ropes around her ankles while Sasha got the crying child on her feet. He pushed Allison toward the gravesites. “Let’s go.”

They steered the terrified duo into the clearing, the headlights from the van illuminating them as they stumbled deeper into the forest. When they reached their final destination, Frank pulled a gun out of his waistband. Allison saw the earthen pits and began pleading with him as she clutched her sobbing daughter.

Frank brought his 9mm Glock up, now letting Allison and her daughter see the weapon. “Any last words?”

He had lost sight of Sasha for a moment and was surprised when he heard her voice behind him. “Yeah,” she said. “Let’s hear what you have to say for yourself.”

Frank felt the icy point of a gun on his neck. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

Sasha came around and faced him, the headlights illuminating her sapphire eyes. “I’m taking out the trash.”

The bullet that shattered Frank Dyer’s brain echoed through the forest. The blast was so loud that it shocked both Allison and the woman who had called herself Sasha.

“Thank God,” Allison said to her, releasing a breath. “Now get our ropes untied.”

Sasha did as she was instructed. When Allison and Jenna had been freed, Sasha said, “We did it. We’re rich.” She came closer and kissed Allison on the lips.

When they parted, Allison went over and found Frank Dyer’s weapon on the ground. She stood up, barely controlling her anger as she confronted Sasha. “I was afraid everything had gone wrong. Why the fuck did you let the bastard cut off my finger?”

“He did it before I could stop him.” Sasha’s eyes fell away from her. “I’m sorry.”

Allison brought the weapon she’d taken from her abductor up and aimed it at Sasha’s head. “I’m afraid that answer just isn’t good enough.” She squeezed off three rounds, obliterating her former captor’s head as she fell into a heap on the ground. 

Allison went over and took her daughter’s hand. “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

As she helped Jenna into the waiting van, Allison thought about friendship. The woman who lay dead on the ground behind her had been her friend. They had spent months planning the kidnapping together. Sasha had used her considerable persuasive skills on Frank Dyer, convincing him they could use Vince in the kidnapping scheme. Her cheating husband, just like Frank, had unwittingly become a pawn in their game. The two men had been willing to sacrifice both her and her children for a very large payday. In the end, they both got what they deserved.

Allison glanced back at her friend’s body. Sasha. She laughed when she thought about the name they’d chosen. The PI had fallen for the woman he knew as Sasha hook, line, and sinker. In the end, friendship had served Allison well. She was now extremely wealthy and she owed a debt of gratitude to Deidre Cole.

Leo and I got back to the station late in the day. The feds and the Coast Guard had spent the afternoon searching boats in the local harbors in proximity to the Malibu pier. We could only assume that the kidnappers had slipped away with Henry Montreal’s money. The financier was livid and said he was going to sue everyone involved. In the meantime, there had been no word about Allison or her daughter.

We went directly to Oz’s office, where we filled him in on the events. Selfie and Molly had joined us because they said they had an update on the Potter case.

After venting our frustration over the day’s events, Leo said, “It doesn’t look good for the hostages.”

“No money, no leverage,” the lieutenant agreed. “I have a bad feeling we may never see them again.”

I remembered that Leo and I had previously talked to Selfie and Molly about wanting to interview Allison’s sister again. I asked them, “Have you had any luck locating Karen Dodd?”

I got head shakes. “We left a couple of messages on her cell phone, but she hasn’t called back.”

I looked back at the lieutenant. “Where do we go from here?”

Oz tossed Bernie a treat. “The case is still with the feds. They’ll do cleanup and try to deal with the fall out with the press. Our roles will likely be diminished.”

I glanced back at Selfie and Molly. “I guess that’s your cue. What’s the latest?”

“How does the saying go?” Molly said. “You can never be too rich or have too much insurance.” She looked at Selfie.

Our crime analyst, who looked like she’d dipped her head in red paint this morning, said, “And some people try to buy their way into Heaven.” She and her counterpart exchanged cryptic smiles.

“Would you care to explain?” Oz asked them.

Molly shuffled a stack of papers in front of her. “As we all know, the Pressleys are heavily in debt because of the construction of their Stairway to Heaven project. There’s a mortgage for just under two million dollars on the property, as well as several construction liens.

“When the mortgage was issued, the bank insisted that the Pressleys take out life insurance policies as a condition of insuring the debt. The Reverend Stan and his wife each have a five million dollar policy that was underwritten by Waverly Insurance, Walter Potter’s company. In the event either party died, the policy was written so that any debts owed on their future church would be paid off first. Any remaining funds would go to the survivor.”

“It’s interesting that Potter’s company issued the policies,” I said, looking at Leo. “And I’m betting there’s more to this story.”

Molly took over. “This is where things get interesting. Walter and Maggie Potter also had life insurance policies. We didn’t find out about them until recently because they were taken out years ago with another insurance carrier before Walter opened his own company. Their daughter Samantha was named the beneficiary in the event of either party’s death. Those polices were each worth one million dollars.”

“I guess that will make Sam a very rich girl someday.” Leo said.

“Or, the way things are going, at least pay for a couple of years of college,” I agreed.

Molly shook her head. “It would have, except both policies were modified about a month before the Potters died. The Pressleys’ church was named the beneficiary in the event of either of their deaths.”

They both now had our full attention. “Why would the Potters modify their policies?”

Selfie glanced at her coworker. “Molly and I have a theory that may explain it.”

Bernie was fixated on Oz and his bag of treats, his ears standing straight up. “It looks like we’re all ears,” the lieutenant said. “Let’s hear it.”

Selfie began spinning their scenario. “As we all know, Meagan Pressley is a beautiful woman, with considerable persuasive skills. We also know that the Potters began attending their church a few months before they died. Let’s suppose that Meagan and Walter began chatting one day and she learned he owned an insurance business. Meagan mentioned that she and her husband had to have policies written as a condition of their mortgage and Walter happily obliged.

“Let’s also assume that when Walter wrote those policies he told Meagan that he and Maggie also had life insurance policies. He might have also confided in her that his wife had a terminal illness. Knowing that Maggie wasn’t long for this world, Meagan immediately seized on that opening. She became involved in a relationship with Walter and, in time, convinced him to make their church the beneficiary of both policies, rather than his daughter.”

“But why would Walter modify his own life insurance policy?” Oz asked.

“Because one of the seven deadly sins took over,” Selfie said. “Walter was blinded by lust. Our theory is that when Walter was in the process of modifying his wife’s policy, Meagan said to him, ‘I know you’ll probably outlive me, sugar babe, but, why not make our church the beneficiary on both policies? It would prove that you love me.’”

“Sugar babe,” I said, laughing.

Selfie shrugged. “Sorry for the embellishment. I had an old boyfriend from the south who called me that.”

After joining in the laughter, Leo said, “Let’s finish your story. I’m betting one of the other deadly sins, namely greed, plays a role in what happened next.”

Molly nodded. “Meagan knew a big payday was coming her way with Maggie’s death, but it wasn’t enough. She reasoned that if she got the payoff on both Walter and Maggie’s policies, it would be enough to bail their church out of hock. When she realized that, Walter’s days were numbered.”

“It took two bodies to build the Stairway to Heaven,” Selfie agreed.

“And the argument that Maggie and Meagan had that Samantha overheard?” I said. “What do you suppose that was about?”

“It could be that Maggie Potter signed her life insurance policy modification without really knowing what she was doing,” Selfie said. “Later, when she looked at the policy again and realized the Pressleys’ church was the new beneficiary, she had it out with her husband. She insisted that the policies be changed back. When Walter later told Meagan about that, she went by the house to try and convince Maggie to hold off on changing the beneficiary, knowing that she would be dead in a few weeks anyway.”

“Maybe I’m missing something,” Oz said. “Why is the Pressleys’ church still in debt, given the insurance payouts?”

“That’s probably something Meagan didn’t think about beforehand. As the beneficiary of the policies, she filed the claims, but the Potters’ deaths were ruled a homicide. The insurance company is balking on making the payouts until the cases are closed.”

We were all quiet for a moment, processing what they’d said. Leo then spoke up. “Let’s suppose that it all went down as you’ve speculated. That still leaves us with the Howard Dern problem. If Dern was telling the truth, our killer was a man.”

Molly looked at Selfie and smiled. “Maybe they’ll give us detective pay if we’re right about things.”

“What haven’t you told us?” I said.

“It seems that Walter wasn’t the only rooster in the Meagan Pressley hen house. Selfie and I went to a church function last night, pretending we had just become members of the Pressleys’ flock. We snooped around and, according to a couple of the church’s gossip queens, Meagan and the Reverend Stanley have fallen on hard times in more ways than one. Rumor has it their marriage is on the rocks. Meagan has supposedly been hot and heavy with their church construction foreman, a guy named Sam Berger.”

The lieutenant’s phone was ringing as Selfie held up a mugshot. “And guess what? Mr. Berger has a history of assault.”

I thought about the knot that had been used to tie the Potters. “Do you know if Berger was ever in the Navy?”

Molly held up a discharge paper. “Chief Petty Officer before he was released under less than honorable conditions for fighting.”

Our attention was drawn back to Oz. We all heard the excitement in his voice before he ended the phone call.

“That was Agent Dukes,” Oz said. “They just got a call from Allison Marsh. She and her daughter have been released by the kidnappers. They’re on a street a few miles from the Malibu Pier.”