Killing America's Sweetheart: A Natalie Miller Mystery (6 page)

Christina laughed loudly and grabbed my arm, and then noticed Simon standing next to me.

“Ah, I take it you’re not here for a social call?” she replied eyeing me and then Simon.

“You’re still as always super perceptive,” I said giving an apologetic look.

Christina motioned for us to follow her and we all stepped into her cozy office.

“So, what can I do for you?” she said with interest.

“Christina, this is Simon
Bellamy,” I started and noticed she smiled and nodded. “His friend, err girlfriend Hannah Gold was murdered the other night. We were wondering if you could tell us if she made any large withdrawals recently?”

Christina leaned back and took a deep breath.

“Natalie, I’m really, really not supposed to give out that kind of information.”

I looked over at Simon who continued to remain silent and replied, “I understand.”

“However, since you are such a dear friend from hell school, (our private joke) I will tell you.”

“Thank you,” Simon and I said in unison.

“I distinctly remember Ms. Gold coming in on Thursday. She was very rushed and wanted to pull out a hundred thousand dollars that day. I explained to her that we would love to accommodate her needs, but would need at least two business days to get the cash together. Our bank simply does not carry that much cash on hand and it’s something we would have to acquire. She and her friend looked very unhappy, but she agreed to come back on Monday.”

“Wait, her friend? Can you describe this person?” Simon asked.

“He was about six feet tall, dark brown hair, sort of wavy and combed back. He sounded like he was from back east, maybe New York? And he looked to be in his early thirties,” she replied.

I looked over at Simon and saw that he was thinking. Gilles meanwhile made himself known, and kept repeating the name Damian over and over.

“Damien,” I said rubbing my temples.

“I don’t know what his name was. He never gave it, but I did notice he seemed to be a bit jumpy,” Christina said, sc
ratching her nose with her hand, in an obvious fashion.

“Drugs?” I asked.

“That was the first thing I thought of when I saw him. He looked like he was definitely on something.”

“Thank you so much,” I said to Christina shaking her hand with Simon following my lead.

When we walked outside Simon turned to me and asked, “Why did you say Damien?”

“It’s a name my spirit guide gave me,” I replied simply.

“Oh,” he said after standing there for a moment absorbing my words. “Damien is her ex-boyfriend, who is known to have a bit of an addiction problem.”

Damien Fields. Why had I not made the connection? Hannah and Damien had a
rocky past. Once upon a time Damien had been the star of the prime time soap series “Santa Monica”. A steamy guilty pleasure where Damien played Regan the soulful bad boy millionaire married to an evil plastic surgery addicted ex-model. The show made him an instant star. That’s also where Hannah got her big break playing the innocent nanny torn between Damien’s character and that of her struggling musician boyfriend. To say Hannah and Damien had a tabloid courtship is putting it lightly. Week after week they graced magazine covers, first with wistful tales of love and romance and then later tawdry stories of abuse, cheating and drugs. Their relationship was full court press. That’s why when it came out that Hannah was messing around with a married Simon, that the media went into overdrive. She was fresh off her breakup with Damien, who by then had found himself unemployed after the cancellation of the show and with little offers of work due to his rumored drug addiction. What a sad demise.

“Do you know if Hannah kept in touch with him?” I asked.

“Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t know about her taking the money out of the bank, so I probably wouldn’t know who she was talking to either. The last I heard about Damien, he was living in some drug den down in L.A.”

I looked at my watch and noticed it was almost one o’clock. I needed to get going, as I still had to
go home, eat and get ready for work. I asked Simon to check around to see if he knew where Damien was and if it was possible that he was here in the Treeville area. We also made arrangements to get together again tomorrow, so I could talk to Bebe and maybe get a read on something from her. Simon was adamant that Bebe was innocent and I had a feeling she was too, but I still wanted to get a feel for her.

Chapter Ten

Nine A.M.
had me up and moving. I was already showered, dressed and done a bit of makeup as not to scare anyone when I took Honey for her morning constitutional walk. Work last night was quiet and uneventful, which was fine by me since my brain was working overtime trying to make sense of everything. Honey finished her business in record time and we continued a few more blocks to log in some cardio time. By the time we made our way back to my ramshackle apartment, there was a tall, strong figure waiting for me at my door.

“Do you ever take any advice I give you
?” Zack replied leaning against my door with a cup of Starbuck’s and mini Diet Pepsi bottle.

I sighed.

“You are going to be the end of me, you know.”

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Because I am trying hard to break my Diet Pepsi habit and you are just fueling my addiction. Seriously, I’ve got to stop drinking. It’s ruining my life,” I said dramatically.

“I find it hard to believe that I am fueling any addiction, and anyhow you are changing the subject.”

I opened the door and led the way in. I knew exactly why he was here, I was just surprised it took him so long. I was certain that he would have shown up at work last night. Honey ran right to her water bowl and began rehydrating at once.

“So, I’ll ask again: Do you ever listen to me?”

“What exactly are we talking about?” I asked playing dumb.

“You’re good Nat, but I’m better,” he said coming in close to me just to give me an obnoxious smile.
He smelled of something spicy with a hint of citrus. I inhaled his scent and was immediately thrown off track.

He waved a hand in front of my face, I gave him a playful smile in return.

“I’m sorry but you need to be more specific with your line of questioning. You give me a lot of advice, please narrow it down.”

“Alright, cut the bullshit. I know you were hustling around town with Simon Bel
lamy, a murder suspect, I might add and I want to know why,” he said in an authoritative tone.

“He asked for my help and
I said yes,” I stated in a matter of fact reply.

I saw Zack take a deep breath and try to remain calm.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me not to leave the relator’s dinner last night and hunt you down at work? Emma was receiving an award and I was fully prepared to scrap it and come interrogate you! Woman you just drive me fucking crazy!”

I really don’t set out to torment Zack. In fact I try to avoid him, especially since he started getting involved with Emma. She
does not care too much for me and my past or present relationship with her boyfriend. I am no home wrecker, (unlike Emma) so I would never do anything to give her pause. Still the woman despises me and Zack continues to search me out. It’s a very uncomfortable and awkward situation. Plus, Emma is like an aging playmate. Blonde, busty (man-made) and appears to be kind of perfect. However, as one of my favorite films from the 90’s “Clueless” says “she’s kind of a Monet.” Far away breathtaking, but up close, she’s a mess. The years are catching up to Emma, but even despite that, I feel completely inadequate next to her. She’s rich and shiny and I’m poor and dull.

“Look I’m sorry to anger you, but I know he’s innocent.”

“Oh, you know he’s innocent?”

I took a deep breath and began retelling him my dream in has much detail as possible.

“So, you never actually saw the killer. It could be Bellamy,” Zack replied after taking a few moments to gather his thoughts.

“No, it’s not him. Trust me. He’s not your guy. It was someone else. It was a personal killing. Someone really did not like her. The killer even said she wasn’t ‘worthy’. That’s got to mean something, right?
Plus, where’s the money?” I asked.

Zack didn’t answer right away.

“So, unofficially your boy is not the only suspect. We are also looking at Bebe Gloth and another individual. A man arrested a few months ago for stalking Hannah.”

Wow. Hannah had a stalker?
While I assumed both Simon and Bebe to be at the top of the list, I really didn’t think it was either of them. Solely because neither one was hurting for cash. Whoever the money was intended for was blackmailing her. The stalker information I had not been expecting. I needed some time to process this new discovery.

“Why didn’t you mention this to me?”

“Honestly, I thought you’d pick up on it. I didn’t want to influence your findings.”

“What’s the guy’s name?”

Zack looked at me and smiled.

“Oh, no way. You’re not getting that one out of me. All I need is for you and Mr. Hollywood to start hounding him and blow any possible evidence and leads we may have. Sorry Nat, you’re on your own. Why don’t you ask dear old Gilles for help?” he added in a mocking tone.

I smirked. The nerve of this man, making fun of my spirit guide. I heard Gilles yelling a mental ‘fuck you’, accompanied with a middle finger salute. Man, I loved my guide.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from all your important police duties,” I said
sarcastically walking to the door and motioning for him to leave.

“Touchy, touchy today. I can take a hint. Hopefully you can too. Stay away from Bellamy. He’s not from here. He’s a Hollywood asshole who is used to getting his way and doesn’t care who he drags down in the process. People li
ke him are not like us. Those L.A. freaks have no conscious. I don’t think he’s any different. You’ll be wise to just steer clear of him.”

Zack walked out and closed my door. I stood there soaking in his parting words. I knew he was just looking out for me, but I was certain that Simon was different. Why the hell else would he be living in bumfuck nowhere? No, I was going to see this through, even if it did get hairy.

Putting Zack’s warning out of my mind, I headed over to Simon’s to speak with Bebe. Okay, so I should be totally honest. As much as I got geeked out to be in the same vicinity as Simon, it was Bebe who really made my palms sweaty. I’ve read every single book she had ever put out. Her bestselling series, Fight or Flight was a worldwide bestseller. It was those books that put Hannah on the map and garnered the Oscar. In other words, Bebe Gloth was kind of a big deal.

I
eased my car up to the large menacing iron gate. I was about to get out and push the buzzer when the gate opened. I looked up and saw there was a security camera, and did a little wave as I pulled onto the long driveway which leads to the gigantic nineteenth century plantation home. Now in the absence of police blocks and media frenzy I really took a good look at the property. Simon’s home was not at all modest. It was one of the oldest, best preserved original homes in the county. One of the founding fathers of Treeville built this home, so there was some historical value to it as well. It was also very isolated. The home sat on nearly ten acres, so the nearest neighbor was miles away. Which meant there wasn’t too much security to bypass, and with no nosey neighbors, which made for an easy killing ground.

I exited the Corolla and walked to the door where Bebe greeted me.

“You must be Natalie. Simon told me you were coming, so I was on the lookout for you,” she said guiding me into the foyer.

“Thank you,” I replied shaking her hand.

OMG. I’m actually touching Bebe fucking Gloth! Karen’s gonna shit herself!

“It’s so nice to meet you,” I followed up with, trying to keep my cool.

“Likewise. When Simon told me he hired you to help solve Hannah’s murder I was thrilled. I’ve always been fascinated by psychic phenomenon and am actually trying to write a new book where the main character is a sensitive,” she replied with enthusiasm.

“Well, I’
ll definitely be reading that one. I’ve read all your books, I’m just a huge fan,” I gushed.

Bebe smiled warmly and invited me to the kitchen where she had a small brunch set up.

“I hope you’re hungry. I miss cooking these nice brunches for Simon, so I thought I would go ahead and do it today,” she mused.

I took a seat at the cozy breakfast nook and Bebe slid in opposite me.

“Uh, where’s Simon?” I asked pouring myself some juice.

She was about to reply when a freshly showered Simon entered the kitchen.

“Sorry about that. I went running and lost track of time,” he said with a playful grin.

Looking calm and casual in cargo pants and a white shirt, Simon sat next to Bebe.

“This looks brilliant Beb. Thanks,” he said beaming at her.

We ate,
made small talk and Bebe filled me in on her new project. She also asked me a ton of questions about my own abilities. She really seemed interested in my personal history, which I found surprising.