Helena Goes to Hollywood: A Helena Morris Mystery (12 page)

Emmy chewed her full lip with bronze gloss transferring to her teeth. “That’s so sweet.” She put her hand in front of her face.

“It’s no problem. If he’s late one day or gives you any crap, I make one phone call and he’ll be sorry.”

“Thank you. Maybe now if my rent isn’t too bad here I can keep the place. I don’t want to work for someone else. Right now my schedule needs to be around Chris.” Hopping up, Emmy rounded the desk and hugged me. She wasn’t very tall so I didn’t even need to stand up.

“Well, I can’t lean on your landlord but maybe you and he can work something out. Or you can get your waxers back. That’s just hot wax and tables, right?” Trying to solve problems for others made me forget my own.

I’d thought about my own business, a martial arts studio that had classes in self-defense for women and then the traditional practices. Small business took time to turn a profit and I had to live too. Emmy had to deal with reality. I’d done all I could.

“We’ll see.” She didn’t sound convinced but didn’t elaborate either. Letting me go, she sat back behind the desk and put the checks carefully in the top drawer. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Sonia and I know what it’s like to just have a mom. It’s not fair.” I looked at my watch. “We’re going to grab a burger for lunch. My treat—want to join us?”

She shook her head. “I have a few clients coming in soon. Thanks.”

“Okay, but next time.” I got up and Jordan followed, giving Emmy a supportive wave.

After dropping the checks at Emmy’s, Jordan and I went across the street to the café and sat in the open patio area.

Jordan shook his head. “She’s going to lose that place, such a shame. Good location, lots of foot traffic. But if she can’t swing the rent she’s screwed. Even if she can reopen somewhere else, once you lose the clientele odds are they won’t come back. It’s all about service because everyone in Hollywood wants to feel like a star. Half the waiters are aspiring to be something else so food service sucks, but everyone has to eat so they deal. Being pampered is different. If Emmy wasn’t there cracking the whip—”

“I can’t do any more without messing it up. If I turned her ex in to the IRS it can make things messy for her too. They could freeze his assets so he can’t pay at all. That’s why I wanted the cushion. It’s a good threat but one you don’t want to make good on unless absolutely necessary.”

The waitress buzzed by with menus but I went ahead and ordered a cheeseburger and fries. Jordan ordered a chicken wrap on lettuce, no dressing. I wanted to protest but at least it wasn’t a total salad.

Jordan stretched back in the chair and inhaled deeply. “Don’t let it bug you. Emmy is a grown ass woman. She can’t expect her ex to support her nail salon too. Some of these Hollywood wives have it too easy and then they get dumped and it’s a culture shock.
I have to work! I can’t afford a full staff? I’ll get on reality TV.
Alimony is a dying deal since women can work and have all that equality. They get stuck taking care of the children and having to work. Not so easy. At least the kid is in school and Emmy had a business started. She’s not above working but it can’t be a side project anymore, she has to get empowered.”

“It’s not just Hollywood, it’s everywhere. Women work but it’s hard to find the day care and take care of the house. I don’t know how they do it. Too much work for me.” I waved it off.

“You should stay here, you’re fun,” Jordan said as our food arrived.

I almost choked on a seasoned fry. “Please, I’d kill myself. There’s no ketchup on the table. How do you eat fries without ketchup?”

“No one here eats fries past puberty. They’re probably laughing at you in the kitchen.” Jordan bit into his wrap.

“I don’t have to wait tables or work in a kitchen for a living and they’re laughing at me? Hollywood is insane.”

I dug into my burger and realized there was a tiny container of ketchup nestled amongst the fries.
Fancy
. Fast food would’ve been fine for me but I didn’t want to see Jordan faint. I was in heaven with red meat and cheese.

“Yes, Hollywood is crazy. That’s why I love it! Do you eat like this all the time?” he asked.

I shrugged. “This? A couple times a week, sure. Pasta, chicken, usually a salad for lunch, Chinese, and I love Mexican food. I like to mix it up.”

“You really must work out a lot.” Jordan nodded.

“Every day, but I enjoy it. That’s the fun of martial arts—it burns off the calories and the frustration. I wouldn’t turn it into a career if I didn’t love it. Eating carbs is just a perk.”

Jordan put down his food and stared at me with a twinkle in his eye.

“What?” I wiped my mouth with a napkin.

“You could kill someone with your bare hands, couldn’t you?” he asked.

Was that all? “Of course, anyone can. You snap the neck with enough force— Okay, that requires some muscle. But strangling, crushing the windpipe doesn’t take much pressure. You can smother someone with your hand or a pillow. Everyone has the power to kill. It’s just that most of us are sane, ethical, and don’t use it.”

“But you could do real damage, like take someone out with a punch or a kick. You’re like a lethal weapon. You wouldn’t have to smother someone. You could do other stuff.”

Nodding, I figured I’d let him be impressed. “I’ve split boards with my bare hands and feet. I can bruise flesh and crack bone.”

Before Jordan could comment I heard my name from halfway down the block. Who knew me here?

Turning, I spotted a tall black man with lots of muscle in his own right. His smiling face and broad shoulders were familiar. Those dimples, I knew him! I still felt out of place in Hollywood but maybe my luck was changing.

“Ricky?” I couldn’t believe it.

I stood as he approached. It’d been almost twenty years since I’d seen him. Were we that old?

“Helena Morris. Damn, what brings you to L.A.?” He hugged me, picking me clear off the ground with his thick muscled arms and chest. At six foot four, I had to look up to him. He still looked good.

“My sister. You’re still here, huh?” I asked.

He’d been in the Academy with Todd but left Quantico when his mother was rushed to the hospital near death. Against all odds she made a recovery but needed constant care while she recuperated. Ricky never returned to the Academy that I’d heard. He and Todd were good friends but life took them in different directions.

“L.A. is home.” He flashed his badge. “I was promoted to detective two last year.”

“Awesome. The LAPD is lucky to have you.”

“So how’s Todd?” he asked.

“Fine. We split up but we’re friends.” Awkward but true.

“Todd isn’t that dumb.” Ricky shook his head.

“But he is that ambitious—one too many promotions and relocations.” I shrugged. “I’m in Vegas now.”

“No kids? Damn, I’d have bet money you two would go the distance. You look good!”

“Thanks, no kids. It’s nice to do what I want to do.”

Ricky pulled his cell phone out. “Give me your number, I don’t want to lose track of you now that you’re out my way. Moving to L.A.?”

I shook my head as I pulled out my cell. “Just visiting. I’ll be heading back to Vegas.”

I read off my digits and programmed his cell number into my phone. This was a connection I wanted to keep for Sonia’s sake.

“Who’s your sister? Maybe I’ve arrested her,” he teased.

“Doubtful. She’s Sonia Flynn.”

“The actress? She’s hot!” Ricky’s smile widened.

“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes. “This is a friend, Jordan Michaels. Jordan, this is my ex-friend, Ricky. Ex because he thinks my sister is hotter than I am.”

“Hey, I never said that. I just don’t think of famous people having normal relatives. In L.A. everyone thinks they are special.” He shook Jordan’s hand.

“Thanks, now I’m normal. But fame has a price—my sister has a stalker. I might be calling if I run into an issue.” I tapped my phone in my hand. I was getting a little antsy so long away from Sonia without Jordan watching her.

“No problem, I’m your guy day or night.” His phone vibrated. “But right now I’m someone else’s knight in shining armor. See you later.”

He headed off down the street to his car.

“Thanks,” I called after him.

“Hot.” Jordan stared at Ricky’s ass.

I nodded. “We should get back too. I don’t like leaving Sonia too long.”

“She’s with Sam, she’ll be fine. Work is the dumbest place for anyone to make a move.” Jordan finished off his wrap.

“Some stalkers are incredibly stupid or desperate.” I signaled for the check and ate a few more fries.

Running into Ricky was good luck. I’d probably need a little police backup at some point and he was a good guy. Endearing, dependable, and smart, plus he still filled out a suit pretty well too.

We both had dads who liked to feel tough by smacking their family around so we’d bonded more than I had with Todd’s other friends. Having a cop on my side and on my contact list worked for me. Hollywood was crazy but L.A. did have some normal spots.

Walking back to my car, I saw a man across the street lingering around Emmy’s. He definitely wasn’t a regular around here. I’d already picked up that West Hollywood was a trendy section everyone frequented but focused on a core gay population. This guy didn’t look like he had his nails done or even felt comfortable here.

I slid behind the wheel and nodded to Jordan. “Does that guy look familiar to you?”

“No.” Jordan settled in next to me and glanced again. “You know him?”

Cell phone in hand, I turned to check my blind spot and snapped a picture of the mystery man. “Not yet, but I will.”

“He’s not hot enough to stalk. You can do better. I’ll hook you up, but Ricky is built. I’d take a ride on that any day.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I threw the car into drive and merged into traffic. “The guy across the street was watching me and not in a flirting way.”

W
alking into the mansion after a long day of shooting, I knew instantly that something was wrong. The alarm wasn’t on, against my explicit instructions to Lupe, which wasn’t like her at all.

Sonia noticed nothing out of the norm. “I’m starving!”

“Lupe?” I called.

“In the kitchen.” Her voice was thick.

I lead the way and Sonia trudged behind me with an annoyed sigh. Dinner normally awaited us.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She pointed to the closed French doors that lead out to the backyard.

I walked up and saw the plain piece of paper taped to the glass from the outside. “Got your dog! 100k and I won’t hurt it.” Simple and direct, written in the black marker again, it was the ransom part that was unexpected.

“Okay, did they break in?” I asked Lupe.

“No, I put the dog outside when the security people came back to install the dog-safe motion sensor. So we can leave Fluffy safe inside and she won’t set off the alarm.”

I knew about the sensor and that was legit. “Someone grabbed the dog from outside?”

Lupe nodded. “I went out to get her—the men wanted to test the sensor—and she was gone. I saw the note.” She broke down crying.

“Fluffy?” Sonia wandered to the note and looked lost. “I’ll kill them!”

“Calm down. Lupe, why didn’t you call me?” I asked. The poor dog might be in withdrawal now. DTs in a high strung poodle wouldn’t be pretty.

“It just happened maybe an hour ago. I thought you’d be home soon. I didn’t want to make a media circus. Calling the police over a dog...” Lupe dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

Sonia hugged her housekeeper. “Hel, don’t pick on her! Not all of us know what to do in a dog-napping emergency! You call 911.”

Finally the stalker had done something to make my sister stand up and get mad. The victim getting angry was critical to them reclaiming their life, their space, and their power. I’d seen it in my self-defense classes again and again.

“I’ll call Ricky.” I grabbed my cell and dialed, and in moments he was on his way.

As Sonia and Lupe shared tears. I dug through Sonia’s purse and found her cell. I checked for messages or texts. Nothing new.

“What are you doing?” Sonia asked. “Who is Ricky?”

“Ricky is a friend of Todd’s who is on the LAPD. Whoever took Fluffy will have to send ransom instructions somehow. Like where to drop the money and pick up the dog, but nothing yet.” I checked the house phone. Nothing there either.

“I’m so sorry. We’ve never had any problem putting her out in the yard.” Lupe started to cry harder.

I walked over and knelt down. “Lupe, it’s not your fault—obviously they were watching the house. You were doing great keeping the place locked and alarmed. They had to take the dog because it was the only opening they had. There’s nothing you could’ve done to stop it and you could’ve been hurt if you tried. No one wants that.”

Lupe just nodded.

“Why did security need the dog out of the house?” I asked.

Sonia glared. “I’m sure there’s a good reason.”

Lupe nodded. “One of the security guys is very allergic even though it’s a low allergen dog. He sneezed a lot and Fluffy always wants attention from people. She followed him around so I did the same thing when they installed the system. It was the same guys, it wasn’t a scam.”

I patted her arm. “No one is blaming you, we just need all the facts. You need to talk to the police and tell them whatever you know.” She didn’t seem to fear the cops so my curiosity about Lupe’s immigration status faded. We didn’t need more issues and I didn’t want to get someone in my sister’s corner in trouble.

Lupe took a deep breath. “And I burned the dinner.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” I picked up the house phone and ordered a huge generic pizza and garlic bread.

“I can’t eat.” Sonia slumped into a chair.

“You need to eat something. One slice and a salad won’t kill you.” There was always salad in her fridge.

The doorbell rang and I was relieved to find Ricky along with a couple of uniformed officers had arrived. Ricky took one look at the duo crying at the dining room table and sighed. I patted his shoulder, not envying his job. I introduced him and gave them space, letting him do the interview. I listened and dug through my purse for enough cash to pay for the pizza order.