Helena Goes to Hollywood: A Helena Morris Mystery (21 page)

I stepped into the room. “I can laugh at myself, but you’re not doing your skinny ass any favors upsetting my sister. The show gets hurt then so do you.”

I pivoted my hip and landed a sideways kick square in his chest, sending him flailing into the small couch in his dressing room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he gasped.

No one wanted to go down that path. “Nothing and that was a warning tap.” I pressed the point of my snakeskin boot to his junk.

“Stop! Are you crazy?”

“I think you need a lesson. Big actor, big money...just remember there is always someone younger and hotter ready to take your job. There is always someone bigger and stronger who can make you look weak. There is always someone richer to make you feel poor. You can’t embarrass me because I won’t let you bother me, not without consequences. Understood?”

He nodded. “Got it.”

“Play nice and you don’t get hurt. Clear?” I increased the pressure slightly.

“Good. We’re fine.”

“Good.” I removed my foot and watched his face burn with defeat.

“There are men who’d pay a lot for that treatment. Maybe your new job should be a dominatrix.” He covered his crotch with his hands in case I decided he needed more attitude adjustment.

“Violence isn’t hot. It’s a means to an end.”

My cell chimed and I decided this conversation had grown boring and unproductive. The text message popped up from a blocked number.

Someone is writing a tell-all about Danny and Sonia. Thought you should know!

Damn right I should. But who was it? I replied but the text failed. I really hated games...

O
n the drive home Sonia vented about Bernadette incessantly. Even after telling her it was Rob’s joke, she vilified Bernadette. I let her rant since something else had my attention. I changed lanes and watched the tinted out old model Cadillac that had been behind me.

It didn’t immediately follow but within five minutes it had weaved two lanes to the right and then back over behind me, very casually. This driver knew how to tail someone. No doubt about it, we were being followed. I shifted over one lane to the right.

“Know anyone who drives an old Caddy with dark tinted windows?” I asked.

“What?” She looked at me like I was crazy.

“Don’t turn around—use the visor mirror to check your make up. The car behind us, it’s been following us.” I didn’t want to panic her but Sonia needed to know it wasn’t all a joke.

“Following us?” Her hands shook as she followed my instructions, touching up her lipstick as she got a look at the car.

“No, I’ve never seen it before. That tinting can’t be legal because I wanted mine tinted more and they said it was as dark as the law allowed,” she pouted.

“Legal only matters if you get caught, like my gun. Okay, if you don’t know him then let’s lose him.” I shifted over to the right again and took the next exit without racing. I didn’t want to tip the dark car that I knew I was being followed.

This exit took me near Emmy’s and since I didn’t know L.A. well, being in familiar territory was a good start. I picked up my speed and cornered a few turns fast enough to make my sister clutch her seatbelt.

“Relax,” I said.

“Can’t you slow down?”

They were still behind me. “Nope, they’re following. There’s too much traffic here.”

She pointed to a street. “That’ll get you back to the freeway. No stop lights or signs—it’s a feeder ramp.”

I took it and floored the gas pedal. After less than a mile I knew why I was alone. The construction signs told me the merge was closed. I looked behind me to find the dark car back in the distance. They’d angled to block the two lane road. “Not good.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know there was construction.” Sonia’s voice shook.

“Not your fault.” I turned around and assessed my options. Concrete walls on either side, no way out there. No other ramps or off streets so it was either go through them or something a lot worse.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Chicken,” I smiled.

“I’m not letting you do this! This is crazy!” She grabbed her phone and started dialing 911.

“No.” I grabbed her phone. “Not now—they’ll be gone the second they hear sirens and we’ll have gained nothing. I’ve got the plate memorized. It’s probably stolen but we’ll deal with that part later.”

“So how do you think we’re getting out of this?” Sonia shook her head at me.

“A game of chicken and I always win.”

“You really are totally crazy—that car is bigger than yours. We’ll get kidnapped and end up on the news!”

“But my car is old and I don’t care if it gets demolished. I bet they don’t want to lose their ride.”

“So even if they do move, they’ll still follow us home. Run us off the road. Who knows?” Sonia’s voice tightened in terror.

“No, they won’t.” I pulled my gun from the holster and set it between my legs.

“Guns and car chases? Hel, this is way too action movie crazy.” Sonia started to hyperventilate. “This is real! I don’t have a script.”

“That’s life.” I released her seatbelt. “Get on the floor just in case.”

“Just in case what?” she asked.

I didn’t want to say just in case they had guns. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She didn’t argue and pushed the passenger seat back as far as it would go. Then she smashed her tiny body into the open area with her head and shoulders still on the seat.

“Ready?” I asked.

She nodded and closed her eyes.

I floored the sports car and it revved to life. I didn’t let up, angling for their back end which was lighter without the engine. The more ground I covered the more speed and force I had on my side.

“How can you be so calm?” Sonia asked.

“The key to a game of chicken is no fear.” The Academy taught defensive and aggressive driving. Showing no weakness was the key. My ex loved it and taught me a few tricks when there were rashes of road rage incidents and car-jackings around DC. I’d taken defensive driving courses as well. You had to intimidate the opponent. Most of the time it was about wills, not skills.

I didn’t let up on the gas pedal. Closer and faster, I saw the Caddy inch. I didn’t falter in my trajectory. At twenty feet I stared into the driver’s seat. I could see nothing but that wasn’t the point. I’d demonstrated my intent. I clutched the wheel and stuck with it.

Three seconds later the Caddy shot out of my way. It moved up the ramp a few yards and stopped. Sonia was probably right, they’d try to follow.

I jerked the wheel left and hit the brakes so now my car took the up space, dominating both lanes and blocking them in. Grabbing my gun with my right hand, I aimed quickly and took out their back two tires before they could speed away.

Without waiting to see the reaction, I floored it out onto the main streets where I tried my best to drive normally. They didn’t return fire. They couldn’t pursue us without killing the rims and I wasn’t sure what to think. Was that the killer looking to finish us both off? Aggressive paparazzi that’d just ruined the seats of their Caddy and probably got good photos of me shooting at them? The amount of adrenaline pounding through me made me itch for more.

“You okay?” I asked Sonia.

“Yeah.” She sat up slowly and put on her seatbelt. “That was insane.”

“But they won’t follow us with two flat tires and those spinner rims aren’t cheap.” I found an In and Out Burger and pulled in the drive-thru.

Sonia crossed her arms. “I’m not eating that stuff. It’ll kill me.”

“So could the guys in the black Caddy. I’m eating.” I ordered a double cheeseburger, huge fries, and the biggest chocolate shake they had. It wasn’t just about the food. If the guys in the Caddy were crazy enough to come after me, they’d be looking on the street or expecting me to head back to the mansion fast or go straight to the cops—not go for fast food.

As I drove home I ate some fries and caught Sonia stealing a few as well.

“It’s not fair,” she said.

“Life isn’t fair. Are you referring to something specific?” I asked.

“Maybe Danny had a stalker or the murderer is after me. Why? We never did anything to anyone.”

“The stalker might be considered a downside of your job. The fame comes with consequences. Worry more about the killer right now. I think it’s the same person.” That was pure gut feeling talking but maybe it’d make her feel better.

She took more fries. “And I don’t care what that Queen Bees website says. You shouldn’t be the Hollywood Ninja or a PI—it’s dangerous too.”

“I’m not looking for that sort of work. It’s just glitz and flash for their pictures and publicity, nothing real about it. You’re enough excitement in California.”

I grabbed some fries before they were all gone and took the exit that’d get me back to her mansion in Brentwood. I didn’t see the Caddy on the road. Maybe I’d won for today.

A
pparently no one had reported my shots fired on a car. Then again, the area had been mostly deserted. The next morning I called Ricky and asked him to come over.

Ever prompt, Ricky sipped coffee at the kitchen table as I finished off an orange and some yogurt.

“You shot out the back tires?” he asked without shock or amusement.

I tossed my empty yogurt cup and orange peel. “He followed us and blocked me on some dead end construction ramp. It was either disable them or who knows what sort of dangerous L.A. car chase I’d be in.”

He grinned. “You’d win.”

“Yeah, but I could’ve hurt innocent people in the process. I’m not interested in being on television, but I would be more entertaining than OJ’s run. This way no one got hurt except a couple of tires. If it’s the tabloids, they can bill me.” I knew what I wanted to do. I just needed Ricky to back me up with Sonia. “Can you babysit her today? I need to go visit someone.”

Ricky leaned back and looked me. “Doesn’t sound like a social call. Where are you going?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I want to talk to that creepy Brian the poet guy.”

“Why? LAPD and the FBI ran him through every computer. The cops already paid him a visit and nothing. Nothing in his letters to Sonia sounded threatening. Danny spoke at this guy’s romantic literature class. The guy had no motive, he’s just a zealous fan. Danny had a picture of the two of them with his college class. That’s all we found.”

“He’s a rabid fan. He’s all over the blogs and sites and loops and he writes fan fic. He’s over the normal line for me.” I couldn’t shake that bad feeling.

I’d been up half the night with the leftover adrenaline so I’d done plenty of my own online research. There were many angry fans but Brian was the only one I knew who had made contact with Danny and Sonia at more than a random event.

“What’s fan fic?” Ricky asked.

“These original stories using someone else’s characters. He’s continuing my sister and Danny’s story as a soap couple. Plus he came to Danny’s funeral. Not weird enough yet?” I asked.

“Creepy about the stories but he had Danny talk to his class. Romance is dying. Soaps kept the drama and romance alive and all that crap. He’s a college prof—it’s his thing. The funeral was odd. I don’t know if he and Danny were good friends but paying your respects isn’t a crime. He didn’t protest or disrupt Danny’s funeral or the cops would’ve arrested him. I can go talk to him if you want,” he offered.

It was my hunch, not LAPD worthy. “No, I’m going to talk to him—less official. You stick with Sonia.”

“Sorry, it’s an active case. I trust you, Hel, but I need to be there. We’re not going to let this go on. If he’s involved you could spook him and blow our chance at hard evidence. The killer isn’t getting away.” He opened his cell phone and texted someone.

“There’s no hard evidence that he’s a threat. You just said so.” I felt for my gun unconsciously. It was covered up by my shirt but it was there.

“I know, but until it’s solved we’re keeping an eye on everyone. If this is a big lead, what can you do about it? I can’t use your interrogation. No, Nancy Drew, it’s a murder investigation. I’ve got an off duty officer on the way to stick with your sister today. He owes me a favor.”

Arguing was useless because Ricky was right. Plus, if Brian did anything or said anything suspicious enough, Ricky could arrest him while I couldn’t. “Thanks.”

“Why the sudden focus on Brian? We knew all of this before. I figured you’d be after the Caddy driver.”

I smiled. “When you ran info on Brian it included his address and all cars registered to that address. Brian drives a blue Altima but his mom owns a black 2010 Caddy. Spinner rims didn’t scream someone’s mom but Brian could’ve swapped them out after borrowing the car. If I can get a look I’ll at least know if he used it to chase us down. For all we know he took a bunch of pictures from inside and is making money off us. Or he wanted to kill us.”

“You want to rattle him and see what comes out?” Ricky nodded.

“That’s the idea.” I didn’t like or trust Brian.

Just an instinct I couldn’t explain. Like there was something trying to get loose in him. He held it in check but it was a matter of time.

“Let’s do it,” he agreed.

“You drive. If he sees my car it might make him nervous to start. Let‘s see how far we can get being nice.”

On the road Ricky drove through a doughnut place and I got a large black coffee. The detour wasn’t planned.

“What’s up?” I asked.

He parked the car and sipped his own coffee. “I want to make sure you don’t go off on this guy. We’ve got reason to question him but it’s personal to you.”

I’d been expecting this lecture. “I know. I won’t get physical or anything. It’s a lead. He knew and contacted Sonia and Danny. He had their home address. He has more knowledge of them than any average fan.”

“But no proof of motive to harm. Maybe I should go without you.” Ricky was serious.

“Brian commented on my pictures over at the Queen Bees. Brian watched me on the street. He’ll recognize me and maybe he’ll be interested enough to talk. I’m not a liability here. And if he’s guilty you can arrest him.” I nudged him. “You go in solo it’ll be cop and suspect.”