Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (79 page)

“What brings you here tonight? You were very vague on the phone.”

“It’s about Sybil,” Piper said.

“Go on.”

Piper and Jason told her what had been happening to Sybil, and now Piper. Jane listened with an occasional nod or sip of her drink.

When they finished, Jane said, “Heartbreaking. Will it never end for Sybil?”

“It doesn’t seem so, does it?” Piper answered.

“What do you want from me?”

Piper handed her the journal, the pages in question marked with slips of paper. She read the one about the mysterious death of Sybil’s third husband, Paul Winger.

“You want to know about Paul’s suicide? About what happened that night?”

Piper almost said no, that she wanted to know about Sybil’s stepdaughter, but Jane knew secrets and Piper wanted to hear all of them. She nodded.

“It was our secret—mine, Sybil’s, my father’s, and of course Norma. Norma witnessed the entire debacle. Daddy and I merely cleaned up the scene and swept the ugliness under the proverbial rug. Daddy was head of Transworld Artists at the time and, naturally, he had a lot of power. When I say power, I don’t mean within the industry only, but with the press, the local law officials, and politicians. My promise to Sybil was to take what I know about that night to my grave. But—and I hope I’m doing the right thing—if it will help you to help Sybil, to help put these bastards behind bars, I guess I’m going to have to break that promise.”

A white cat with a plaid collar leaped into Jane’s lap, catching its claws on her pants, snagging the satin. Jane scratched behind its ear. “Sybil was on location in Havasu, filming
Delta Queen.
The movie wrapped up earlier than expected and she arrived home sooner than planned. She surprised Paul, who was in bed with his lover. The young man, a mere boy, actually, was naked and very very drunk.”

“There was quite a scene. Paul begged her to understand. Yet how could she understand that the man she’d married, the man who pretended to be a caring father to her daughter, was a freak of nature? That’s what she called him, ‘a freak of nature’—in those days it wasn’t politically correct to admit to being gay. She screamed at him, calling him every despicable name that came into her head. She threatened to tell the world that the great director, Paul Winger, was a flaming pervert. A queer and a pedophile. Her screaming frightened away his boy lover and roused Norma, who rushed into their room clutching a large kitchen knife in her little hands, terrified that someone was trying to kill her mother. Norma was ten at the time.”

Jane looked from Piper to Jason. “Paul continued to plead and beg Sybil to forgive him. She refused. He went berserk, completely out of the mind. He snatched the knife from Norma and dragged her into the bathroom.

“That’s where we came in, Daddy and I. Sybil was frantic. She called me. I called Daddy. Daddy could fix anything. He’d shielded her in the past. The studio would protect her again. Daddy and his assistant broke down the bathroom door and found Norma huddled in a ball in the corner, blood-spattered and in a state of shock. I’ll never forget that awful sight. Paul, God rest his soul, lay nude, sprawled in a crimson bathtub. He was bleeding profusely from the crotch and a wide slit in his throat. He died in route to the hospital without uttering a word. It was horrible.”

Piper shook her head. One gossip rag had hinted at a mysterious woman in the house, not a boy. “In the news reports there was no mention of a male lover.”

“I told you my father was a powerful man,” Jane said. “There was no reason for anyone to know what went on that night. No reason to make it public. Later Sybil admitted to me that their marriage of six months had not been consummated. His attempts on their wedding night, and the many nights following, had been clumsy, embarrassing failures. And now, of course, she knew why.”

“So that’s why Norma was sent to Europe?” Piper asked.

Jane nodded. “She was quite traumatized by the incident. She needed psychiatric help. The studio thought it best for her to get that kind of help … well, out of the country, away from the media.”

“What did Sybil think of that?”

“She was heartsick about having to send Norma away. But in time, she realized that those of us who play an important role in this fantasy world called Hollywood must make certain sacrifices. Sybil’s a strong woman, a survivor. She put it behind her, met and married Samuel soon after. That was probably the best period of her life. The birth of little Sammy was the happiest day of her life. She adored that boy. He was a sweet, beautiful baby.”

Piper leaned forward. “Samuel had a daughter.”

“Yes. Sam had left his wife and teenage daughter to be with Sybil. It was a bitter, harsh estrangement. Marlene—that was Sam’s daughter—was especially heartbroken. She wanted nothing to do with Sam’s new family. She went so far as to break into the house and threaten to kill all of them, to shoot them with a gun from her father’s hunting collection. Sam was a big-game hunter in the days when killing a defenseless animal was considered macho.”

“What did she look like?” Jason asked.

“Spitting image of her father. Fair complexion with dark hair and eyes.”

Piper and Jason exchanged looks.

“Jane, do you have any idea where she might be now?” Piper said.

“I’m afraid not,” Jane shook her head. “The last news I had about her was after Sam crashed his plane into that mountainside. Marlene had protested her father’s will. Except for the small trust fund in Marlene’s name and the Château in the Alps, the remainder of his estate went to Sybil. I guess you could say that her bitterness was justified. She blamed Sybil for her father’s desertion, the loss of his love, and her vanished inheritance.”

When Jane showed them out that evening, she pulled Piper aside and whispered, “Your Jason is a lucky man.”

“He’s not my Jason. We’re not a couple.”

Jane smiled. “Really? Have you noticed the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not looking?”

Piper felt her cheeks grow warm. She had caught herself stealing glances at him the past several days. He was an attractive man, after all, and he had rescued her. In the past three days, his arms had been around her three times. Each time protecting her. No one had ever protected her.

From time to time during the drive, she felt his eyes on her and thought of Jane’s words. Piper had wanted Jason to believe her about the caregivers, and now he did. She had wanted him to help her, and he was. She wanted him to … Damn,
she wanted him
.

The traffic on Sunset Boulevard had picked up on the drive back. Just ahead, the cruisers packed the boulevard. That section began the over-the-top, always illuminated, giant billboards and digital screens on the sides of buildings—LA’s version of Times Square. Fortunately, the road returning to the Vogt’s was at the start of the chaos and not right in the middle of it.

“Knoller’s daughter certainly had good reason to hate her stepmother,” Piper said.

“I’ll check her out,” Jason said. “And that guard, the one from the asylum. We owe him a visit.”

They made the left, heading up the hill.

Jason walked her to the front door of the Vogt house. When she opened the door and stepped inside, she said. “They have my cell phone. I dropped it in the Squire back yard tonight. They know I was there.”

He followed her inside. “Lock up and set the alarm, I’m staying.”

#

While Jason checked through the house, Piper closed all the blinds and then looked in on Dr. J., who wanted to play. Feeling guilty for leaving him alone all day, she indulged him by letting him out of his cage and scratching the back of his neck.

“All clear,” Jason said returning to the kitchen.

Dr. J. greeted Jason with a series of animal sounds. Not the least bit frazzled by Jason’s presence, Piper recalled how he had screeched whenever Luke entered the room.

“He must like you. He doesn’t talk around new people.” Piper fed Dr. J a piece of his favorite fruit, pineapple.

“He knows a bird lover when he sees one. Had a Green parrot in my college days. Now I have a BDD—big dumb dog.”

That was the first personal information he’d offered. Was he married, engaged, divorced, gay? Not gay. That much she knew from the growing magnetism between them. Magnetism that grew by the hour. She could feel herself drawn to him by an invisible thread. She realized he knew so much more about her than she knew about him. In fact, she knew nothing about him. Maybe it was the brandy at Jane’s, or his willingness to help her, or his obvious attraction to her, but suddenly she wanted to know all about Jason Bower, the man.

“I’m keeping you from your dog. Will he be okay?”

“Yeah. He has plenty of food and water. He just gets lonely when he’s alone too long.”

“Dr. J’s like that. He sulks.”

“Scooby Scooby Doo…where are you?” Dr J said and hopped back into his cage, his back to them. “Goodnight.”

They laughed.

“Would you like something? A drink? Coffee?” Piper asked.

“Thanks, I’m fine.” He looked away. “Which room were you in when you saw the handyman spying on you with the binoculars?” Jason asked.

She took him upstairs to the guest bedroom that faced the back of the house. In the dark room, with only filtered light from downstairs to see by, Jason looked through the binoculars at the window where Piper had seen first the scarred hand, then the message, and finally Luke. The blinds in every room across from them were now closed.

Piper took the binoculars. “The message is still there. They may not be aware that Sybil is trying to get help.”

In the window’s reflection, she saw Jason standing close behind her, his eyes not on the neighbor’s window but on her.

Was it concern or duty that made him stand so close?

He lowered his head and touched his lips to the nape of her neck. A tingling wave of warmth radiated from her neck to her toes. She closed her eyes. His lips caressed a trail along her neck to the side of her face. She turned and lifted her face up to his. Their lips met and the kiss was soft and sweet. He kissed the corners of her mouth and then her eyes, his lips burning a trail down her throat to the hollow in her neck.

“Are you married?” she whispered.

“No.”

“Attached?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He kissed her throat again. “Are you married?”

“Not for long.”

“Attached?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He looked into her eyes and smiled. She smiled back.

The phone rang.

“Don’t answer it?” he said, his voice hoarse and low.

She glanced at the caller ID and gasped. Her name was on the display.

Jason saw it at the same time. “Answer it.” He pressed the speaker button.

She lifted the receiver to her ear but didn’t speak.

“Lose something?” It was Luke’s voice. “I can return it to you. No trouble.”

Jason disconnected and placed the receiver back on the base.

After the phone call from Luke that interrupted their intimate moment, Jason patrolled the house again, checking every window and door. Piper climbed into the guest bed. Jason pulled an overstuffed chair next to her bed. He kicked off his shoes, dropped into the chair, propping his feet on the bed, his service revolver across his lap. She fell asleep and dreamed of a safe place and tender kisses. Jason’s kisses. His body close, his arms holding her tight, protecting her. When she awoke, Jason was lying beside her. She longed to feel his body curled around her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“Tropical Palms,” Jason said, looking around. “Why do they give rat holes like these such exotic names? I don’t see any palms or feel the ocean breeze. We’re miles from the ocean.”

That morning Jason and Piper parked on Broadway across from the Tropical Palms Hotel. The neighborhood was every bit as seedy as he had said it’d be. On the fringe of skid row, rundown buildings with boarded up windows, hand-painted signs advertising twenty-five-cent X-rated movies, and GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS in neon blinked and flashed up and down the entire block. That morning Jason had suggested coming here on his own to make sure Mr. Avidon was the former guard from Triple Oaks Sanatorium. Piper insisted he take her with him. The homeless, the indolent, walking the streets or huddling in makeshift shelters confirmed to Piper this was no place for a woman to visit by herself. Even accompanied by Jason, a brawny officer with a .38 special, she felt apprehensive. Several young men openly dealing drugs on the corner glared at them.

Instead of getting out immediately, they sat looking at the depressing pea-green building. Along the second and third stories of the building, where the hotel rooms were located, faded and tattered curtains waved outside several open windows. The glass in every room was dull and streaked, the sills lumpy with mounds of pigeon droppings. In one window, an American flag twisted and flapped in the breeze.

“You and your husband, are you divorcing?”

“I filed the day I left him.”

“Any chance of reconciliation?”

“None,” she replied. “How about you?”

“Divorced.”