Killing America's Sweetheart: A Natalie Miller Mystery (20 page)

Interesting. For the first time, I finally felt like we were on the right path. Could it have been someone who was stalking Simon that killed Hannah? Was it out of jealousy? I tried the think back to the voice from the dream, was it a man?

Karen and I started to walk out when Damien called out, “Hey, who’s going to fix the door?”

“Figure it out,” I called back as we exited the room.

We walked back to the hybrid and discussed what we had just learned.

“Do you really think Simon’s male stalker is responsible for killing Hannah? I mean, what’s the motive?” Karen asked as she slid into the driver’s seat.

“Jealousy. Damien’s right, it could be a homosexual infatuation, or it could be that the guy identified too much with Simon, and he lost touch with reality,” I responded closing the passenger door.

“So, Hannah was just in the way?”  Karen asked.

It appeared to be, as I recalled the words the killer spoke to Hannah that night. He said “You’re not worthy.” Could that be a reference toward her infidelities against Simon?

I thought about that
answer, when Damien came stumbling out of his room and spotted us.

“Oh, you’ve got be kidding! A fucking
Prius! I got ambushed by some fucking tree huggers?!” he yelled, hands gesturing wildly in every angle.

“Uh, oh. Someone’s pissed,” Karen said as she started up the car.

We watched as Damien went back into the room and then ran back out holding a gun and aiming it at the car.

“Oh, shit! Go, go, go!” I yelled.

Karen threw the little car in drive and made a sharp turn, right as we heard the sound of “Pop-pop-pop!”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

After a somber drive back to my place, Karen dropped me off at the curb of my apartment complex.

“I think we might need to take some self-defense classes,” she said as I slid out of the vehicle.              

“Self-defense? We need to head
to the gun range. Shit, we need to look into getting a permit to carry,” I muttered. I couldn’t hide my frustration and exhaustion.

“Can you walk around the car and see if
there are any bullet holes? I thought I heard a few pings as we tore off,” she asked, choosing not to reply to my snappy comeback.

I sighed and walked the ext
erior of the Prius. As I came to the rear, I noticed two small round holes on the bumper. I touched my finger to one of the holes and the outline was warm. Damn, Karen was not going to be happy about this. She loved her little bat mobile, and took meticulous care of it. Having bullet holes in the bumper was not something she’d take in stride.

I walked the rest of the car and met Karen back at the driver’s side window.

“Well?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“So, overall the car looks really good, especially for the amount of shots Damien took at us,” I said trying to sound upbeat.

“Overall? What does that mean?” she asked eying me suspiciously.

I smiled and shook my head.

“Spill it,” she said in a clipped tone.

“You have two bullet holes in the bumper,” I said so quickly, I thought I’d briefly channeled an auctioneer.

“WHAT?” she yelled.

             
Not waiting for any further details, Karen threw the door open nearly knocking me down and ran to the back of the car. As I walked closer I could see her kneeling down inspecting the damage.

             
“My baby!” she whined, while running her hand over the rough patches on bumper.

             
“I wonder if your insurance will cover this,” I asked, thinking out loud.

             
“Oh my God, I bet my premium will double because of this! Damn, Cal State Insurance! They’re always looking for any reason to raise my rate!” she ranted. “You’d think since I have a green car, they’d give me some kind of discount, but oh, no! They charge some kind of extra fee for hazardous waste, in the event I get into an accident.”

             
I’d heard something about that a few years ago; in fact I believe my ex-husband was the one who told me about it. Back when times were good, I’d momentarily thought about getting a Prius, but Matt discouraged me saying that if I were in an accident, there could possibly be fees from either the insurance company or first responders. I never really understood how different the battery was versus a regular one, but the sexy allure of my sports coupe won me over in the end.

             
Karen stood and held her hands to her side with her fists clinched. I put my hand on her shoulder and said, “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure out something,” I said, trying to sound reassuring.

             
“Oh, yeah. How the hell am I going to explain this to the insurance company? I bet they’re going to want a police report, because they’ll assume it was part of some crime…” she said trailing off, rubbing the back of her neck.

             
I felt so bad for her, especially since it was my idea to go back there. I started racking my brain trying to come up with a solution, when it hit me.

             
“I’ve got it!” I replied excitedly. “My cousin Hector works at a body shop over on East Street. I bet he’ll give us a deal,” I said smiling.

             
“I forgot, you’re related to like half the town,” she said sarcastically and added, “What do you mean ‘us’?”

             
I went on to explain that if it weren’t for me wanting to go back and find Damien, her car would still be complete, and in pristine condition. Karen didn’t argue or protest, so I quickly got my cell out and dialed the auto shop’s number. Hector agreed to take a look at it by the end of the week and Karen looked relieved.

             
“Did he say how much he thought it’d cost?” she asked.

             
“No, but I’m taking care of the bill,” I said firmly.

             
Karen opened her mouth, seemingly about to protest, but then nodded her approval.

             
After making a few light jokes to lighten the mood, I finally saw the tension lift from her shoulders. We made plans to meet at the new office later, and Karen left. I made my way into my apartment to a very impatient dog, who was in desperate need of relief. After taking her outside to tinkle, I was just about to make a sandwich, when there was a knock at the door.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

             
Zack stood in the apartment, looking uncomfortable and exhausted. His usual healthy complexion was pale, and his face looked gaunt, it appeared he had skipped shaving too. His normal outfit of slacks and dress shirt were still there, but with wrinkles and creases, which was unlike him.

             
“I know you’re angry with me,” he started to say, before I cut him off.

             
“Did you know Hannah was pregnant?” I asked trying to control my emotions.

             
He didn’t respond.

             
“With your child,” I said.

             
Zack looked down and nodded his head slightly.

             
“Jesus, Zack! Is there anything else you just forgot to mention?” I yelled at him.

             
He tried to approach me, but I put my hands up to keep him away. Stopping, he took a step back.

             
“I’m sorry. I was so out of my league with her. It was just some fun, a little adventure, never anything serious. That night at the park, she told me she was pregnant, and that she was going to have an abortion. I asked her if she really wanted to do it, and she replied ‘yes.’ It was surely not my finest hour, but I swear to God I did not kill her over it. You know I love kids, if she had wanted to keep it, I would have been a proud father.”

             
It was true that Zack had a way with kids. Part of his job with the police department was doing outreach work, and a lot of the children he worked with adored him. He also did a lot of charity work too with foster kids, so I was pretty sure if Hannah had kept the baby, Zack would have been happy to be part of the child’s life.

             
So, if that cleared Zack, what about Emma?

             
“Where was Emma that night? Was she with you?” I asked.

             
Zack paused and said, “No. I was home alone that night, but you can’t honestly think Emma would kill someone?”

             
When I didn’t respond he continued, “You have to trust me. Emma isn’t capable of killing someone. She doesn’t have it in her.”

             
“But, that’s the thing, I can’t trust you. The Zack I used to know would never have covered up his involvement with a victim in a crime he was investigating. Hell, he’d never have gotten involved with her in the first place. So, while I believe you didn’t have a reason to kill Hannah, I can’t trust your reasoning that Emma may not have. The behavior I’ve witnessed first-hand from her is manipulative, salacious and dangerous. She has an unnatural obsession with you, and I can’t discount her involvement, especially now that you’ve admitted she wasn’t with you that night,” I said.

             
“I really messed up, didn’t I?” he said looking at the hurt and anger in my eyes.

             
Not meeting his gaze I walked away and sat on the futon.

             
“Do you have any idea where she was that night?” I asked.

             
Zack moved closer and sat beside me, and reached for my hand.

             
“No. I tried calling her earlier to see if she was coming over, but all I got was her voice mail. I never heard back from her until the next morning,” he said stroking my hand gently.

             
“And what did she say?” I asked.

             
“Honestly, I forgot all about it. I was too wrapped up in the investigation and didn’t speak to her about it again. I never gave it a second thought until you brought up the issue,” he said.

             
It was becoming difficult for me to think. I needed some room to breathe.

             
“I think you should go,” I said brushing his hand away and walking to the door.

             
“Please, forgive me, Natalie. I—don’t know what’s happened to me. I lost my way, but I swear, I’ll never falter again,” he said pleadingly.

             
“Please go,” I said as my eyes began to water.

             
He sighed heavily and walked out the door, leaving me with tears running down my cheeks. I couldn’t completely understand why I was so emotional about Zack’s involvement. I guess for some reason I thought that even though he was with Emma, it wasn’t super serious and I’d eventually get over my apprehension about him and our one night stand, and try to make a real go of a relationship. However, that seemed out of the question. How could I trust a man who cheated on his girlfriend? I don’t care how terrible Emma acts; no one deserves to be humiliated in that manner. If he was that unhappy, why not break it off? And then there was the matter of his conduct as an officer, lying and withholding information regarding an ongoing investigation was an even bigger matter. Zack could be fired and even charged for his involvement with Hannah.

             
I rubbed my temples and felt that old familiar ice pick stab. Of course, it was migraine time. I tried to steady my emotions and to control myself; getting upset was only going to make the pain worse. Instead I went to my purse and dumped the contents onto the counter, searching for my pill box. Finally at the very bottom, it bounced out and I eagerly grabbed one pill and downed it with some water.

             
Just breath and stay calm, I thought. 

Yeah, right.

              After sleeping for a little over an hour, I awoke to the absent pain in my head. Happy that I had stopped the headache before it had gotten too far out of control; I got up and made myself the sandwich I had intended to make earlier. Turkey and Swiss on wheat and a diet Pepsi hit the spot and I started to feel more alive.

             
Replaying all the events that had occurred earlier that morning, I figured the next logical step was to contact Simon. Placing a quick call, I was surprised he responded so quickly, and that he knew it was me.

             
“Does my number show up on caller ID?” I ask.

             
“No, I have your number programed into my cell,” he said warmly.

             
“Oh,” I said. Not wanting to read too much into that. “Uh, listen, we found Damien and I’m pretty certain he didn’t kill Hannah. He did however tell me about a stalker you had down in L.A. a few years ago. Can you tell me about that?”

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