Hollywood Confessions (15 page)

He shrugged. “Your prerogative.”

I ignored him, instead topping poor Daisy’s tank off with gas. I went into station and bought a bag of Lays and a Diet Coke. I used the restroom. Checked the air in my tires. Generally wasted time being a big fat chicken about getting back on the road again.

“
I’m bored,” Gary whined, leaning against the hood of my car, sucking on an Astro Pop. “And my head hurts. Can we go home now?”

I looked down at my watch. 1 o’clock. In an hour Don would be finishing up his radio interview at KNLA. If I was going to head him off, I had to get on the road.

I took a deep breath, telling my inner coward that Mr. Escalade was long gone by now. “Yeah. Fine. Let’s go.”

We hopped back into my Bug and headed back up the PCH. At a slow crawl. Watching the rearview for any sign of menacing death vehicles. We both let out dual sighs of relief once we merged off onto the 2, back into smog-protected civilization.

I dropped Gary off at my place and watched as a set of steps popped out from the bottom of his truck, allowing him to climb into the Compensationmobile. I waited until he’d pulled away from the curb and turned the corner before popping back into Daisy and gunning it toward the freeway.

The KNLA studios were located north of L.A. proper, in Studio City. Just this side of the hills, Studio City was your first stop on your way into The Valley, a still-chic buffer between the exclusive Hollywood Hills and the bowels of North Hollywood. I took the 134 west until it merged into the 101 then hopped off at Laurel Canyon, heading south until I hit Ventura.

I pulled into a wooden complex with a subdued sign on the front, hidden behind a pair of mature palms. Unlike TV or film, radio was pretty much at the bottom of the entertainment food chain in Hollywood, which meant nary a security guard was present in the parking lot. Just the way I liked it. I parked in a slot near the back and set up camp to wait for Don.

I flipped on the radio, tuning in to KNLA. Immediately the interior of the car filled with the deep baritone voice of Bryan Crestor, KNLA’s top DJ.

“
Once again we’re talking with Don Davenport, of
Don & Deb’s Diva Dozen
. Don, thanks for being with us today.”

“
My pleasure, Bryan,” Don’s voice answered back. It wasn’t quite as deep as the DJ’s, and more nasally.

“
So, we were talking about the difficulty of a man attending tiny tot pageants. How has this affected your life?”

I closed my eyes, listening to the DJ ask banal questions and Don answer with just as banal answers, while I mentally calculated a much more interesting set of questions myself. I knew the radio show was on a five-minute delay, so as soon as I heard the DJ say, “Well, we’re almost out of time, but we’ll take one more caller,” I snapped to attention, scanning the front of the building for Don to emerge.

Two minutes later, he did.

Don was average height, growing a little stocky, as people with kids tended to do when existing on a steady diet of Happy Meals and mac-n-cheese. But he was fighting the suburban dad look with all he was worth by wearing an Ed Hardy shirt in a tiger design. In pink. Studded with sequins. He’d paired it with artfully acid-worn blue jeans, sneakers and a porkpie hat. He wore a book bag slung over one shoulder, making him look like an over-the-hill college student.

I bolted from the car, catching up to Don as he fumbled with a key fob at the door of a shiny, new Lexus.

“
Don Davenport?” I asked, bearing down on him.

He looked up and tentatively answered, “Yes?”

“
Allie Quick,” I said, shoving a hand at him. “L.A.
Informer
.”

He narrowed his eyes, glared at my proffered hand then took a step back. “Nuh uh. No way. I saw that article you printed about me this morning.”

“
I take it you weren’t a fan?”

“
Are you kidding?” he sputtered. “You basically accused me of sleeping with my kid’s nanny!”

“
Well, technically, I just inferred it might be possible. I’m pretty sure I never accused. Legal wouldn’t have let that run.”

His eyes narrowed again. “Technical or not, she was in tears this morning. What if the kids read that?”

While I could understand his irritation, I highly doubted his kids had a subscription to the
Informer
. “Would you like to comment on the article?” I asked. “I’d be happy to print your response.”

Don shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “No. Comment.”

I sighed. I hated it when they did this. “Look, Don. I’m going to print something about you today, whether you like it or not.” He opened his mouth to speak, but this time I ran right over him. “And we both know you’ve been in every tabloid in town, that the ‘no comment’ thing is bullshit, and that you’re dying to comment and have your picture in our paper again, because if you’re not in the tabloids no one remembers your name, and that’s not the way to high ratings, is it?”

His eyes narrowed so far I wasn’t sure he could still see out of those suckers.

“
Now,” I continued, “you can either answer my insinuations, or I can print up a whole new slew of them. I’m very creative.”

He took another step backward. “Like what?”

“
Like you stole that outfit from your daughters’ closet.”

He immediately looked down at his outfit. “This is a two-hundred-dollar T-shirt.”

“
Which makes it that much more of a tragedy.”

He bit his lip, clearly not sure what to do with this situation.

“
Look,” I said. “I don’t want to print that. I’m not a bad person. I just want an interview, okay?”

Don looked down at his shirt again. Then back up at me. “Fine. You win. But make it quick, I’ve got a thing with my manager to get to.”

I gave myself a mental high-five. “Let’s start with your affair. My story about it being with Nanny McGregor—was I close to the mark?” I asked.

“
No!” He shook his head, a frown brewing between his eyebrows. “Absolutely not. God, she’s my kids’ nanny for crying out loud.”

“
Yeah, and guys never sleep with their kids’ nannies. Unheard of.”

But he ignored my sarcasm, instead still shaking his porkpie back and forth. “Look, if you knew our nanny at all, you’d know how ridiculous that is. She’s totally focused on the kids. Jesus, sometimes I think she’s a better parent than I am.”

Damn. And I’d liked that theory so much. “Okay, so you weren’t sleeping with the nanny. Who was it then?”

“
Sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

“
But you were having an affair?”

He nodded. Slowly.

“
Chester found out who it was.”

Don paused. Then nodded again.

“
Where were you the day he was killed?”

“
Whoa.” Don jumped back, putting his hands up in a surrender motion. “You don’t think I had anything to do with his death, do you?”

“
Chester knew the secret identity of your affair. Exposing her at the next ratings sag would have been just his MO. Only he dies, filming stops, and your secret is safe. Sounds like excellent motive to me.”

“
No way!” Don shook his head so hard I feared he was going into convulsions. “Look, you’ve got it all wrong. That’s not how it was at all.”

“
Then enlighten me. How was it?”

Don shifted from foot to foot. He bit the inside of his cheek.

“
I gotta print something,” I reminded him.

“
Okay, fine. Look, I’ll tell you. But this is strictly off-the-record.”

“
Fine. Off the record.”

Don sighed. Looked over both shoulders. Leaning in close, he whispered, “I didn’t have an affair.”

I snorted. “Please. Every tabloid in town has footage of you out with hot young girls.”

“
Staged. All of it.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Why on earth would you stage looking like a cheating ass?”

Don sighed. “Barker thought it was a good story to float. So he hired actresses to be seen out with me. God, you really think if I was having an affair I’d be that stupid to be photographed by every tabloid in town?”

Actually, he had a good point. And, with the exception of his wardrobe choices, Don didn’t strike me as particularly stupid.

“
So, the whole separation thing was fake?”

He looked down at his sneakers. “No, that was real enough.”

“
I’m not following. Why did Deb want a separation if you didn’t have an affair?”

“
Deb didn’t want the separation. I did.” He paused, did some more examining of his over-priced sneakers then finally said, “Because she was the one who had an affair.”

“
Shut the fridge! You’re kidding?”

“
I wish I was.”

“
Details. What happened?”

He let out a long breath, sagging against the side of his car. “Look, it wasn’t entirely her fault. We’d been growing apart for months. The demands of the girls were hard enough to handle. But then the cameras constantly followed our every move, catching every little disagreement we had and blowing it into a media sensation. It was all a lot to live with.”

“
And so she cheated on you?”

He nodded.

“
How did you find out?”

Don took his hat off, running one hand through his sparse hair. I could tell he’d recently had plugs, moving his hairline forward a good three inches. “Our nanny,” he finally said.

“
Nellie McGregor?” I clarified.

He nodded. “She came home early with Dolly and Diana from practice one day, and the poor thing walked in on them.”

Which explained a lot about her reaction when I’d mentioned her employers to her. “What did she do?”

“
She closed the door, walked out and pretended nothing had happened. She didn’t say anything for a couple days. But it was right before Valentine’s Day, and when I came to her asking what she thought Deb might like, she broke down and told me what she’d seen.”

“
And what did you do?”

“
I confronted Deb. To her credit, she admitted it right away. She said she was sorry, that she’d end it with the guy. But at that point I didn’t care. I was too hurt. I told her I needed some time.”

“
So you separated?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

I shook my head. “But why the floater story? Why make the press think you were the unfaithful one.”

“
That was Barker’s idea.” Don squared his jaw, telling me he wasn’t entirely thrilled with it even now. “Deb was just about to launch her new book on parenting. Barker knew if something like this came out it would tarnish her image, make the whole book seem like a joke.”

“
So you were willing to be the joke instead?”

“
Look, people will tune in every week to see me being an ass. Boys will be boys, right? I mean, look at Tiger Woods. Hell, some guys even envied him, right? A couple weeks of him looking like a playboy, and he bounces back. But Octomom? She’s a villain for life now. No one forgives a mom who makes a mistake.”

Sadly, he had a point.

“
So Barker suggests this whole ruse, painting you as the bad guy. And you were fine with it?”

“
I’m human. Of course I wasn’t fine with it.”

Ah-ha, now we were getting somewhere. “So why agree?”

“
It was the best thing for my kids. You have any idea how expensive it is to raise twelve children? The show is the only way we can make ends meet. And Barker was right about saying the truth would not only ruin Deb’s publishing chances, but the show as well. So, I went with his scheme. I figured there were worse things in the world than hanging out with a bunch of co-eds for a few weeks, right?”

“
What about Deb? She was fine with this too?”

He shrugged. “She didn’t have much of a choice.”

“
So, the reunion show?” I asked. “Was that Barker’s idea, too?”

He nodded. “At first the story of my affair boosted ratings, but after a few weeks it got old. The public moved on. Barker said we need to do something to get back in the headlines for sweeps.”

“
So he staged a fake reunion?”

Don shrugged. “Look, it wasn’t entirely fake. I mean, well, Deb and I are talking. We’re seeing a counselor. We’ve got twelve kids together, you know?”

“
Did the kids know what was going on?”

Don shook his head. “All we told them was that Mommy and Daddy needed a little space.”

“
Hmmm.” I wondered if they bought this. While I didn’t doubt that Nanny McGregor did her best to shield the children from the media hype, I had a hard time believing the older ones were completely ignorant of what the press said about their family. “What about the other man?” I asked, switching gears. “Who was he?”

Don’s jaw squared again. “I don’t know. Didn’t want to know, to tell you the truth. Look, Deb said it was a mistake. That she’d been seduced. I’m not excusing what she did, and I’m not saying I wasn’t hurt. But we were both under a lot of stress. We hardly ever saw each other anymore. It was only a matter of time before something like this was bound to happen.”