Authors: M. Z. Kelly
“We got something yesterday,” Selfie said. “But with everything happening on Marsh we didn’t get a chance to tell you.” She looked at Molly.
Her counterpart swept a strand of red hair behind her ear. “We did a 290 search and found there’s a registered sex offender that lives almost directly above the Potters’ house. The guy’s name is Howard Dern, age twenty-six. The offense involves him molesting a twelve-year-old girl back in 2013. He’s on felony probation.”
Oz looked at Leo and me. “Our case doesn’t involve a sexual assault.”
“I think it’s still worth checking out. Maybe his hobby is burglary when he’s not molesting kids.”
“Let’s do it. It’s my understanding you’ve got another session with Woods this afternoon.”
“If I don’t kill her first,” I said, remembering what my friends had said about her quoting me as a source during yesterday’s ransom drop.
Oz smiled. “According to Mel, the department is totally behind her. She gets complete access to the investigation.”
“Mel.” I shook my head in disgust. “Anyone else here feel betrayed?”
After listening to my coworkers grumblings, Oz said, “No one likes this less than me, but we still have to play nice in the sandbox.” He then dismissed Selfie and Molly.
We took a moment as the room cleared, Leo and me venting about both Shelia Woods and Mel Peters.
Oz expressed his sympathy before changing the subject, his eyes narrowing on me. “I wanted to give you both an update on what you found out about Kellen Malone as it relates to the deaths of Jean Winslow and your dad. Captain Dembowski privately told me he thinks you’ve raised a lot of important concerns. He and Commander Miles wanted to meet today about everything, but it’s been pushed back a couple of days because of workload issues.”
“That sounds more promising than I expected,” I said.
The lieutenant nodded. “I think you’ve opened a door to something. I’m just not sure where this will lead.”
Leo spoke up, lowering his baritone voice a notch. “We owe it to one of our own to pursue this, Ozzie.”
“That’s why we’re here. Let’s see how things go.”
We were gathering up our paperwork to leave when Oz said, “It sounds like you and Buck McCade have some history.”
A half smile found my lips.
If you only knew.
I tried to choose my words carefully, but ended up saying, “Like he said, our paths have crossed. He’s got some skills.”
“Buster?” I said, referencing what Oz had said earlier, as Leo drove Bernie and me to Trousdale Estates.
He chuckled. “A childhood nickname that I unfortunately didn’t have the good sense to lose when I went to work for the department. Only Ozzie and a couple of others still use it.”
I smiled, grateful that the pain reliever I’d taken was finally working. “I like it.” I glanced at him. “Makes me think of your mama calling out to you as a kid, ‘Buster, time for dinner!’”
He met my eyes as his voice pitched higher. “It was more like, ‘Buster, what kinda trouble you been in now, boy?’”
“Really? You don’t seem the type to get into a lot of trouble.”
“Most of it was pretty tame, but mama didn’t let me get away with much.”
“What about your dad?”
His smile waned. “Haven’t seen him since I was about eight. Not even sure if he’s still alive.”
“That’s a shame.”
“He made me a better man.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Some people learn by bad examples. I guess I’m one of them. Him not being around made me a better dad and grandpa.”
What he’d said made me think about what my love-dad had said about a gift being left behind where there is loss. Leo then changed the subject, asking me about Buck.
I took a breath and ran a hand through my short hair, trying not to think about Jessica’s earlier comments about my new hairdo. “We were involved at one time.” I glanced at him. “I’m not sure how it’s going to go working with him.”
Leo took a moment before responding, driving through the tree-lined streets of Beverly Hills. “It’s like most things that are difficult. You put them in a box and walk away.” He met my eyes. “You’ll find a way to deal with it.”
“I hope so.”
After announcing ourselves at the front gate to the Montreal estate, we were let inside. A servant led us to a sunroom where Henry Montreal was studying a small mound of paperwork in front of him.
Our host nodded toward some chairs for us to take seats, not bothering with greetings. “If this is going to be another lecture about what went wrong yesterday, I don’t want to hear it.” He turned away, sipping his coffee and looking through his paperwork.
“We just want to talk about how things go from here,” Leo said. “At some point, you’re going to be contacted again.”
He tossed a couple of papers he had in his hand on the stack and looked at Leo. “I’ve got the money, so they gotta deal with me. I’d say that still leaves me in the driver’s seat.”
My eyes bore into him. “You might be in the driver’s seat, but you need to cooperate with us. The only way we’re going to get your family back is if we all work together.”
“Consider me a team player, then.” He stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting in Los Angeles.”
Leo and I also stood. “Just make sure there are no surprises this time,” I said. “The feds are going to be working with us, beginning this afternoon.”
“The feds.” He said the words like someone encountering a lower life form. “That’s all we need.” He started to leave, but stopped and turned back to me. “Tell me something, why the hell are you working with the reporters on this? Whose side are you on?”
“I’m not working with anyone, despite what you might have heard.”
Montreal made a huffing sound that accompanied his sneer before leaving the room.
I turned to Leo. “You might have to arrest me before the day’s over.”
“What for?”
I suppressed an image of me bludgeoning Shelia Woods to death. “Journalistic homicide.”
Leo smiled. “Forget it.” He glanced out the window as Henry’s Porsche roared to life. “Let’s see if we can talk to Georgette like our new colleague suggested. Maybe she can mellow out her husband.”
We made the request through a servant and ten minutes later Georgette met with us in the great room. After we all took seats, she asked, “Is there anything new?”
I shook my head. “I’m afraid not. We’re hope…waiting for another call.”
She exhaled and wrapped her arms around herself. I had the impression that Georgette Montreal had been an attractive woman when she was younger, but the years, and her considerable weight problem, had taken their toll. “I was so worried, I didn’t sleep a wink all night.” There were tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I know this is difficult.”
We gave her a moment before Leo softened his deep voice and said, “We’re hoping you can help us out with a couple of things.”
She sniffed and brushed away her tears. “Of course. I’ll do anything.”
Leo’s voice came down even further. “Your husband…he’s a man who likes things a certain way…sometimes that creates problems.”
She nodded. “Like what happened yesterday.” Her features hardened. “I told him if he’d just backed off and delivered the money, Allison and the kids might be free by now.” The tears flowed again, this time harder.
“All we’re asking is that…when another call comes in, we need you to use whatever influence you have to get your husband to cooperate.”
She drew in a breath and exhaled, her heavy breasts rising and falling. “I’ll try, but…” She met my eyes. “I’m so worried something bad will happened after…” She choked up, and managed to continue. “…after what they already did to Allison.”
I glanced at Leo, then back at her. “We’ll just have to hope for the best. All we’re asking is that when the kidnappers call again, you make sure your husband understands that he needs to work with us.”
She nodded. “I’ll do my best. I promise.”
Georgette was showing us to the door when we saw a collection of family photographs on an antique table. I stopped, noticing there was a photograph of her with Allison and her stepdaughter, Karen. Our hostess was considerably younger and thinner in the photo, and it looked like it might have been taken when the girls were in college.
“You have beautiful children,” I said, referencing the photograph.
Her smile was wistful. “Thank you. I looked just like Allison when I was younger.”
“Do you stay in touch with Karen?”
Her painted brows inched together. “Have you spoken to her?”
“Yes, she came by the station right after…after everything happened. Even though she hasn’t seen Allison in years, she said she was concerned about her.”
She didn’t respond and mumbled something that sounded like the word strange.
I decided I needed to clarify what she meant. “What’s your relationship with Karen like?”
She looked at me. “We haven’t spoken in years.” Her gaze moved off and she seemed lost in thought.
When she didn’t go on, I asked, “Why is that?”
The silence between us lingered as she heaved out a breath. I realized she was trying to control her emotions again. “I guess there’s no reason to keep the family’s dirty laundry a secret. Karen is my husband’s daughter by another woman. She was born to his mistress.” She met my eyes. “I guess that still technically makes her my stepdaughter. Despite how it might appear in the photograph, we have no relationship.”
Leo and I stopped for an early lunch at Mel’s Drive-in. Their burgers and fries were to die for, and I’d forgotten all about trying to watch my weight. My headache was now a dull thud with just the occasional drumbeat.
As we ate, Bernie eyeballed my fries. I gave into the stare-down as Leo mentioned our talk with Georgette. “I get the impression she’s a very unhappy woman.”
“I think her whole life revolves around Allison and the grandkids. She can’t be happy with the way Henry handled things.”
“I doubt she has that much control over anything her husband does.” Leo took a bite of his burger as I indulged Bernie again.
“You think he’ll try an end run on us again?”
“Not sure. All I am sure about is that with Henry, it’s all about the money.”
“Or the women,” I said. “There’s obviously still a lot of bitterness over the affair he had, and his love child.”
Leo swirled the last of his malt in his glass. “Given that, it’s a little surprising to me that Karen Dodd took the time to show her concerns about her sister and meet with us.”
Bernie still had his eyes on me like a couple of dark moons. I gave him the final fry on my plate and said to Leo, “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have another chat with Karen.”
Leo’s brows lifted. “What are you thinking?”
“It seems to me this case is as much about the family dynamics of the victims as it is about the kidnappers. I just think it’s worth another shot.”
“Let’s make it happen.” He tossed his cup in the trash. “We’d better get going. I know a certain reporter who wouldn’t be happy if her inside source kept her waiting.”
My head started pounding again as I stood. “Just so you know, I’m not sure how much longer I can play nice with Shelia Woods.
***
Leo shared my unhappiness with the reporter as the afternoon wore on. We spent the better part of the day shooting exterior scenes around Hollywood and in front of the station for what Shelia Woods called “fillers” for the TV show.
We finally got back to the station around three and met in Oz’s office. In between doing idiotic things like walking down Hollywood Boulevard and pretending we were on the phone in the forecourt of the TLC Chinese Theater, we’d checked in with Nadine McKee several times. We learned there was nothing breaking on the Marsh case.
Selfie and Molly had joined us in Oz’s office, which again felt hot and stuffy because of the equipment and cameramen jostling for position. Bernie was stretched out in a corner, oblivious to the commotion. The lieutenant had temporarily moved to empty quarters down the hall, a wise move considering there was a blonde-haired witch in his office.
“I have some news about our part of the investigation,” Woods said after the cameras began rolling again. The reporter was wearing a pink silk blouse that showed off her ample breasts, probably intended to boost the ratings with the male viewership of her show. “A detective in Santa Maria said the diamond knot that was used to tie the Potters was also used in their jurisdiction.”
She had my interest, but at the same time I dreaded the idea of her developing a lead we’d missed.
So much for baiting the shark.
“What exactly did he say?”
“They had what he called a false imprisonment case up there about three years ago. A man detained a teenage girl, probably with the intention of raping her, but had a change of heart and let her go after a couple of hours. During the time he held her against her will, she was bound with a rope using the diamond knot.”
In California, false imprisonment was a penal code violation that made it a felony to falsely imprison someone with the intent to commit a sexual assault. It was a lesser charge than kidnapping, but still carried a prison sentence.
Leo spoke up. “And, this detective, he was sure the knot was identical to ours?”
Woods rolled her seductive blue eyes. “Of course. I described it in detail and the detective said he remembered it because it was unusual.”
I got the name and contact information for the detective and said we would follow up. Woods
then mentioned the daughter of our victims. “As I mentioned before, Samantha’s aunt has given us permission to interview her, but we’ve had to reschedule it for tomorrow afternoon. We’re going to meet at her house. I think it will add some human interest to our case. I’ll handle things, so there’s no need for you both to be there.”
“We’ll tag along,” I said.
Woods thick brows came together. I wondered how you got eyebrows that full and shapely as she said, “There’s no need.”
“This is our case. We’ll be there, if nothing else to offer emotional support for the girl.”
“You sound like you don’t think I’m capable of handling the interview appropriately.”
You’re very perceptive.
“On the contrary, I’m sure you will be extra sensitive because you’re dealing with a young girl who recently lost her parents.”
Woods’ breasts rose and fell as she exhaled in frustration. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I saw the cameraman getting a close-up. She went on again, telling us the interview was a private matter. I continued to hold my ground, insisting that we would be there.
It was enough to cause the reporter’s unhappiness with me to surface, and she killed the cameras. Her eyes fixed on me. “Let’s take a moment and clear the air, Detective. You don’t like me, do you?”
I took a breath, remembering that, even though the cameras weren’t rolling, everything I said would get back to the chief. “On the contrary, I understand that you have a job to do and are trying your best.”
She smiled and swept the blonde bangs off her forehead. “You resent the fact that I quoted you as a source yesterday during the coverage of the Marsh case.”
I kept my voice even. “I won’t deny that I would prefer that, in the future, you stick with the facts and leave me out of things.”
“I always speak the facts, Detective. And, whether you like it or not, you and I are stuck with one another, so we’d better find a way to get along.”
It took every ounce of control I had to push down my anger and be civil. “Then let’s work this case and keep things on a professional level.”
After the cameras began rolling again, I let Leo take the lead. He told Woods about the sex offender who lived on the hill above the Potters’ house. “We’re going to talk to Howard Dern’s probation officer this afternoon. It’s likely that Mr. Dern has court imposed terms that will allow us to search his residence.”
“And you think he could be connected to the Potters’ murder?” Woods asked.
“We have no way of knowing, but it’s not unusual for sex offenders to engage in other offenses. Due diligence requires that we take a look.”
Woods turned and mugged for the cameras. “Finally, it looks like the detectives working this case have developed a legitimate lead. Let’s see if this pans out.”
Selfie then spoke up. “Molly and I have come up with something else that everyone should know about.”
“Let’s hear it,” Leo said.
“We talked to Maggie Potter’s sister, Heidi, last night. We mentioned the TV show and that we were following up on what happened. She was pretty defensive at first, but we soon realized that Heidi’s the kind of person who likes to talk. Just like with Anna Moss, Heidi eventually agreed there were problems in her sister’s marriage. She went on to tell us she thinks Maggie was involved with someone she knew from her college days.”
“Who is this person?” Woods asked, before Leo or I could respond, making a motion to the camera crew to be sure they were rolling.
“She wasn’t sure about his name, but she said they worked on the school newspaper together years ago.” Molly looked at me. “They went to Long Beach State, so I thought we could try and get a list of names from the school.”
“Let’s make that a priority,” Woods said, speaking for me.
I heaved out a breath and nodded at Molly. “See what you can find out.” I then pulled out my gun, pointed it at the reporter, and blew her head off.