The Next Victim (36 page)

Of the names Wayne Clark had given John, only one was a woman--Larissa LaRue--a director who'd started out on the other end of the camera. She'd agreed to meet with Kali as a favor to Wayne, but only if they could do it the next morning at the shop where she was getting new tires put on her car.

"It always takes at least an hour," she'd explained. "And I get so bored just waiting there."

Even ex-porn stars needed new tires, Kali supposed. The incongruity amused her.

Two women were seated in the tiny waiting area of the tire shop when Kali arrived: a pudgy woman who looked to be in her midforties, and a young mother reading a storybook to the toddler nestled in her lap. Kali wondered if Larissa had been delayed.

The older woman looked up. "Kali?" When Kali nodded, she said. "I'm Larissa LaRue."

Kali tried to keep her surprise from showing. Larissa was attractive, but far from stunning. The skin on her face was taut, almost too taut, except around her eyes, where it was puffy. Her lackluster blond hair was puffy too. An aging Farrah Fawcett. Her turquoise crop pants and short-sleeved pink shirt were snug on a frame that carried an extra twenty pounds. But she stood and shook Kali's hand with a genuine smile and down-to-earth manner that belied the image of aging porn star.

"I appreciate your taking the time to meet with me," Kali said.

"Not a problem. Wayne's been good to me. Besides, I'm happy for the company. We're leaving on a trip tomorrow morning, so I had to get new tires today."

As Kali took a seat on the hard plastic chair next to Larissa, she noticed the toddler watching them. Larissa smiled at him, and the boy hid behind his hands. He opened them long enough for Larissa to wave at him, then giggled and again hid his face.

"Cute kid," Larissa said. "You have kids?"

"Nope. How about you?"

"A daughter. She's eight now. It's funny how kids change your whole perspective. She's one of the reasons I think about getting into a different line of work. I have no qualms about having been in the business. I know there are people who feel differently, who think women are exploited and only stay out of desperation. And maybe that's true in some cases."

"But not in yours?"

Larissa shook her head. "I got into it by accident, but overall it's been a positive experience. I was able to earn a living, to grow and learn to stand up for myself." She grinned. "And it's how I met my husband."

"He's a..." Kali glanced at the young mother sitting across from them. "He's in the business?"

"A cameraman. One of the best. He always made me look hotter than I was."

That had to be weird, Kali thought.

"If we'd stayed in L.A. he'd be at the top of the profession by now."

"But you moved to Tucson?"

Larissa nodded. "After our daughter was born. We both wanted a change. The porn industry is megamillion huge. Some big, mainstream corporations are involved, but it's virtually impossible to cross over into straight films once you've been associated with adult. That goes for cameramen as well as actors and directors. Kiz tried, but it was like hitting his head against a brick wall. The irony is that in a lot of ways adult films are among the most challenging to shoot."

"Really?" Kali had caught the young mother glancing their way at Larissa's mention of
porn
. She'd stopped reading to her son.

"Think about it. The action's not rehearsed. I mean, there's a basic storyline, but you can't choreograph sex scenes--they just happen. You miss a climax, you're done. It's not like you've got the option of half a dozen takes."

"No, I guess not," Kali said. It wasn't something she'd considered before. From the look on the young mother's face, she hadn't either.

"The angles are tough, too," Larissa explained. "Viewers want to see more than thighs and butts. So the cameraman has got to get up close and personal without interrupting the action. Not easy, believe me. But Hollywood snubs its nose at us, even though half the sex scenes they shoot nowadays come close to being X-rated."

"Doesn't sound fair," Kali murmured.

"But it's all worked out because Kiz and I love Tucson. He's an EMT now, and we've got a nicer house than we'd ever have if we'd stayed in L.A. It's better for our daughter, too."

Over the loudspeaker, the service manager announced the white Camry was ready. The young mother packed up her son, his box of crackers, and his books and scurried out of the room with a backward glance toward Larissa.

"But you're still in the business?" Kali asked. "As a director?"

"Strictly small-time. I'm not under contract with any studio. I work independently and make only the films that interest me. So what can I do for you? You're a friend of Wayne's?"

"Not exactly. I only met him yesterday. Because of my brother, John O'Brien. Did John by any chance contact you?"

Larissa shook her head. "Should he have?"

"He was looking for some girls, and you were one of the people Wayne suggested he get in touch with."

"He's in the business?"

"No. I mean, he was an investor, but that's all. He died a couple of weeks ago."

"I'm sorry." Larissa seemed unsure what was expected of her.

Kali handed her the photograph. "Do you recognize these girls?"

Larissa studied it. "So many young women look the same to me these days, but this one"--she pointed to Olivia--"I talked to her at the industry open-call party this summer. She's only done a couple of films, but she's a beauty. Dark, exotic, definitely not the norm. I didn't have a project going right then, so I introduced her to Larry."

"Larry Stanton?"

Larissa's face registered surprise. "You know him?"

"He's another name Wayne gave me."

"Larry's an agent. Out of L.A. but he works with talent from all over the country. I don't know what came of it, but they talked for a while after I left them alone."

"Where was this open call?" Kali asked.

"It wasn't officially an open call. Not in the sense of a production company opening the doors to anyone who wants to audition. It was just a big party with a lot of the movers and shakers in the business. Directors, agents, actors and actresses, even makeup and camera folks. A chance to meet and mingle. Mostly local talent, but Larry was there and some other folks from L.A."

"And it was open to anyone?"

"Technically you needed to know someone to get an invite, but they weren't hard to come by. Especially for actresses."

"How about investors?" Kali wondered if John had been there. Maybe that's where he'd met the girls. "Were investors there, as well?"

"Not the big, established ones. But some of the others." Larissa shot Kali a conspiratorial grin. "Supposedly they go for business reasons, but mostly they're there because they think they'll get laid."

"Do they?"

Larissa's grin broadened. "Depends. The ones who are good-looking, wealthy, or have clout usually do okay." She turned back to the photo. "I don't recall these other two girls, but that doesn't mean they weren't there. What's your interest in them?"

"The girl you talked to and this one," Kali said, pointing to Hayley, "they were both murdered. I'm hoping the third girl will be able to shed some light on what happened."

Larissa's eyes widened. "How awful. Was it someone associated with the industry? As if we don't get enough bad press."

Kali hadn't considered that angle--a killer with a vendetta against women and porn. "Do you know of any others in the porn industry who've died recently?"

Larissa shook her head. "No, but I didn't know about these two, either. None of the major names, though. I'm sure I'd have heard about that."

Kali took the photo and tucked it into her purse. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Didn't, uh...performing in front of the camera, in front of people...weren't you self-conscious?" Embarrassed was what she was thinking, but that seemed too much like criticism.

"It's funny," Larissa said, "but I wasn't. I had a great body and I liked sex. I'd kind of get into it and forget anyone else was around."

The service manager announced that a green Ford Explorer was ready. "That's me," Larissa said, standing. "You should talk to Ron Silverman. He was one of the organizers of the event I was telling you about. He might have a list of those who attended."

"Thanks."

Larissa checked her cell phone for his number and jotted it down for Kali. "Pleasure talking to you. It made waiting for the tires much easier."

Kali caught up with Tony Perez just as his shift at the Logan Foods market was ending. Ten minutes later and she'd have missed him.

"Getting up at five in the morning is a pisser," he told her as they crossed the blazing asphalt of the store parking lot, "but getting off work at three in the afternoon almost makes up for it."

"I can see how that would be nice." Kali treasured found hours in the afternoon more than extra time in the morning. "What do you do with the free time?"

Tony shrugged. "Some days I go to the university and sit in on classes that interest me. Other days I go to the gym or hang out with friends. I try to get in a couple hours of writing every day, but it doesn't always happen."

The first time they'd talked, he'd told her his dream was to be a writer, but Kali had assumed that was mostly bravado. Maybe she'd been wrong. He'd at least kept his story straight. "How's the novel coming?" she asked.

"It's not, but I finished a short story this week." They'd reached his car, an older Taurus with a dented fender. He opened the door and tossed his apron inside. "What do you want? I'm kind of in a hurry."

"I was hoping to ask you a couple more questions."

Tony gave her a dimpled smile and waited for her to continue.

"What do you know about your sister's..." Kali paused to search for the right words. "About her work as an actress?"

"Actress! Olivia? Not hardly. Unless you mean her whole life was an act. That I'd buy. Like I told you before, she played whatever role it took to get ahead."

"You told me she was ambitious. Sometimes it's beneficial to adapt to the situation." Kali was stalling for time, trying to think how to rephrase the question without asking him point-blank if he knew his sister made porn films.

"I guess you could call it ambition," Tony said, with a thinly disguised sneer. "The only person she really cared about was herself, but I'll give her credit for going after what she wanted. She didn't let anything get in her way."

Sour grapes, Kali wondered, or an honest appraisal? She broached her original question from a different angle. "I understand Olivia had a summer job that paid very well."

"At the River Inn? I don't think the pay's anything to write home about, but, yeah, it was more than she made working in the school library."

"She quit the job at the inn," Kali told him.

Tony shook his head. "No way. She needed the money for school."

"That's not what Joanna Sommers says. Do you know her?"

"I know who she is. She and Olivia were in the same dorm last year."

"How about other friends? Do you know Crystal Adams?"

Tony shook his head, looked at his watch. "Look, I really need to get going. Here, let me give you my cell phone number." He reached into the car, pulled out an old gas receipt, and wrote out his name and phone number. "Call me if you want, but Olivia and I weren't all that close."

Kali folded the slip of paper and stuck it in her purse. "How about Hayley Hendrix?" she asked as he was sliding into the driver's seat.

It was just the faintest break in motion, like a film that had been poorly spliced. But Kali was sure Tony not only had recognized Hayley's name but had had a visceral reaction to it.

"You knew Hayley, didn't you?" Kali said as Tony closed the door. "Why did you tell me you didn't recognize her photo?"

Tony glared at her for a moment through the rolled-up window, his dark eyes narrowed, his face flushed. Then he gunned the engine and drove off with a squeal of rubber.

Hayley was his sister's friend, Kali reminded herself. There was nothing odd about Tony's knowing her. But that wasn't the point. The point was that he'd denied it.

As Kali crossed the pavement toward her own car, her cell phone rang. The caller was Doug Simon.

"I'm back in Tucson," he told her. "I've been following up on Crystal Adams like you asked."

Kali's breath caught. "Did you find her?"

"Afraid not. I just spoke with the boy's grandmother, though. First off, she's in a nursing home, so there's no way Crystal and Clayton were living with her. They did go visit her one time, to ask for money. She gave Clayton forty dollars, all the cash she had. He threw a fit. The staff supervisor threatened to call the cops if he didn't leave."

"When was this?"

"Early January."

Not long after Crystal had left home. "The grandmother doesn't have any idea where they are?"

"Clayton's incarcerated. He was arrested on a drug charge over Memorial Day weekend. The grandmother's heartbroken that she didn't have the funds to hire an attorney for him. I can try to visit him, but I'm not sure they'll let me."

So Crystal had come to Tucson with Clayton and then been stranded when he got sent off to jail. Piecing together what she'd picked up from other sources, Kali put together a scenario of Crystal's movements. She'd lived on the streets for a while, stopping in at Sunshine House for an occasional meal and shower. At some point she'd hooked up with Olivia and Hayley and ultimately begun crashing on Hayley's couch. Unfortunately, none of that brought Kali any closer to knowing where the girl was now.

Except that one of the other kids at Sunshine House claimed to have seen Crystal near the campus. At the very least, the odds were she was still alive.

The University of Arizona campus was only a stone's throw from where Kali now stood. Her chances of running into Crystal Adams were no better than those of winning the lottery, but Kali occasionally bought a lottery ticket. She could also afford to gamble an hour of her afternoon.