Helena Goes to Hollywood: A Helena Morris Mystery (20 page)

“Sonia, this is your world. These are your friends. I’m just here to help you. The Queen Bee talk was making a deal with the devil...but better that than be against them. You have to know when you can’t beat an enemy. Let’s just hope I can trust him. It’s all short term. Jordan and Emmy are nice people who care about you so of course I’m nice to them. Jordan gave me some good advice right when I came here.”

“Upstage your sister?” Sonia mocked.

“No, he told me to try and fit in. That’s what the clothes were about. That’s what trying to play nice with all these people is about. Yes, some of them are nice but you know I don’t fit in here. You said it—I’m a trend and I’m the weird thing here for a little while. You’re a star. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect Danny too but you’re my job.” That sounded better in my head.

“Your job?” She folded her arms in a fury.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Bad, very bad area! I’d just stepped on a live landmine.

“I’m your sister!” she shrieked.

“I know, but I teach self-defense. I take it seriously. You asked for my help so now protecting you is my job. You can’t fire me and I can’t quit.”

She stood and stalked off to her home gym.

I followed and snatched the ear buds off of her as she climbed onto a machine. “Listen to me. Since the day you were born my job was to take care of you. Protect you.”

“That’s like playground bullies and stuff. Big deal. If you don’t want to be here—go home!” She hopped on her elliptical machine and started to work off the frustration.

“Damn it, Sonia. Maybe I took the big sister thing too seriously. More than other sisters, but you don’t know Dad. It wasn’t just talk or a playground bully or a mean neighborhood kid. It was real. Every time you wanted Dad to come back I got scared he might. I prayed he wouldn’t.”

She shook her head. “You always took things too seriously. Mom said Dad was rough but she also said Grandma Rose used to paddle her when she was bad growing up. And the nuns and their rulers, she said they were really cruel. Kids today are spoiled and pampered and it used to be different. You got caught in the change so maybe
you’re
overreacting?”

Mom had downplayed it a lot! Or my sister heard it the way she wanted to. Either was possible because they both wanted to play ostrich.

Why was I the only one who couldn’t block it out? Memories changed over time but those felt so fresh. I’d love to erase them but someone had to face reality.

“Maybe you’re right but you’re still in danger here and now. Not to mention a suspect, so the past doesn’t matter,” I said.

“I’m innocent and the police will find Danny’s killer.” Her depression had shifted to blaming others.

Grief stages weren’t always orderly and my sister was a widow so I had to tread lightly. It’d be easier if the case were solved.

“You want to blame me for all your problems, fine. Once we find Danny’s killer and your stalker, I’ll go. This world is way too superficial and moody for me to even think about staying.” I turned and headed for the door.

“What about Fluffy?” she blurted.

“Now I’m useful? Depends. If the killer took Fluffy to scare you we might get lucky. Worry about your own neck first.”

I could tell her that I felt it was one person. The stalker had escalated to a killer. Maybe they tried to scare Danny, it didn’t work and so they killed him. Hopefully they skipped the dog and moved on. Killers got impatient at times. Trouble was, I had no proof and had to operate like there were two people out there. One a stalker and one a killer.

“I can’t lose Fluffy and Danny. I can’t.” Her voice was cold, like a command.

“Sonia, you can be a Queen Bee, a black belt, or the biggest star in Hollywood...it doesn’t change reality. No one is completely safe. Manson’s crew slaughtered a pregnant star so you’re not immune.”

“Marilyn Manson isn’t that violent. It’s all talk.” Sonia rolled her eyes.

“Charlie Manson.” I nearly shook her. “We’re talking murder not music, and it could happen to you. Why won’t you listen? I’m trying to keep you alive. You’re not above this any more than the rest of the world. Danny would want you to look out for yourself.”

I walked to the kitchen for more coffee. Sonia could snap and she’d look guilty as sin. I had to get a break!

W
aiting was the worst. The killer hadn’t struck again and that was good. They remained at large, however, so I’d stuck close to Sonia and so had the police. She resented us both.

Bored, I sat on the set during some heavy dialogue scene. Taping meant quiet but Sam knew my being nearby was not negotiable. In those moments of boredom I started to blame myself. If I’d been concerned about Danny instead of suspicious would he be alive? If I hadn’t divorced Todd, he’d be here with me and Sonia would be safer.

If I hadn’t been born, could my mom have not married Dad and never been abused? I’d done the math, not that I could be blamed for my own conception. The pity party bored me but had I overlooked something?

Finally something happened. I heard screaming from the back halls of the set and ran to check it out. I aimed my gun on autopilot at two of the producers screaming. Nothing was bad; it was happy screaming.

I holstered the gun and smiled. “What the hell?” I wasn’t at all sure if I was relieved or disappointed.

“They’d ordered three episodes before but when they saw the reshot pilot, we’re picked up for a full season!” the producer announced.

Rob, Sonia, and Jordan joined her in the hopping. It was nice to see Sonia happy for a change.

“That’s great!” I said. “Maybe next time we don’t scream bloody murder around my sister when there is a murderer on the loose?” Was that too much to ask?

After a lunch on the set that seemed endless I sat in the back with Jordan and did some research on the fan that had me creeped out. Brian Conners, the poet and funeral crasher.

“Do you know anything about him?” I asked.

“He gives me the creeps!” Jordan shuddered.

“Me too. Why?” Other than crashing funerals and stalking me at the café.

“He just looks like that creepy Dwight from
The Office
show. Like a few more dead brain cells and he could be a serial killer. I wouldn’t let him in my house.”

I agreed but there was more. “There’s a dash of something dangerous in him. I’ve got Todd running him again. I checked Bernadette out already and she has no criminal record. Divorced with one daughter, age four. She has joint custody. Nothing very interesting.”

“The girl is duller than the clothes on this show. Every time I try to throw in a print or a quirky tie they veto it.” Jordan scribbled notes on his costume planner.

“Sorry to tell you but that part is true. My ex isn’t a stylish dresser, not glitzy just drab.”

“You and your ex are friends? He was cute at the funeral but I barely got two words from him. Then right back on a plane. That’s weird since you attract lots of men,” Jordan smiled.

“Men think it’s hot when you can beat them up. It’s a novelty, not genuine.” My cell phone rang and I looked. “Speaking of men.” I pushed the button. “Hi Todd.”

“You’ve got one popular sister. She’s all over the web.” He sounded defeated.

“Why do I think you’ve got nothing for me? Even on that creepy Brian.”

“Right now, nothing. Brian has no record. Top suspect would be Danny or that co-star for the stalking of your sister.” Todd’s professional tone made me feel a little better.

“Okay, keep me posted. Thanks—bye.” I pulled the phone from my ear.

Jordan snatched it before I could disconnect. “Toddy, darling. Jordan here. Now what is a sexy G-man like you doing all the way in Chicago when Hel is here?”

Oh no, Jordan was not going to cause trouble for me. “Give me that phone, Jordan.” I grabbed for it and he dodged me.

Jordan giggled. “You’re bad. I can see why Sonia liked you so much and wanted you for a brother-in-law.”

I chased Jordan and wrapped my leg around his, tripping him hard.

Jordan shrieked and fell in dramatic style.

I grabbed the phone. “Sorry Todd, Jordan is a little crazy today.”

“Miss me bad?” he mocked.

“Yeah, and I’m so shy that I had my sister’s gay boyfriend tell you. Do you see what I have to put up with here? It’s like trying to investigate the clowns in a ten ring circus and I get the confetti cannon.”

“I’ll be back as soon as you say. Just say the word,” he offered.

“I think that’ll just create drama. If I bring you in they‘ll all believe Sonia is guilty and I‘m pulling the strings. The funeral appearance was different.”

“I’m here for backup if you need me. Gotta go—give Jordan a kiss for me,” he chuckled.

“If you knew him you wouldn’t open that can of worms. Later.”

“Bye.”

Jordan was moaning and pouting. “You are a mean bitch.”

“You’ve been warned—don’t mess with me or my phone. Especially don’t mess with the nice stable friendship I have with my ex.”

“Message received in a big old bruise on my hip.” He huffed and sat up.

Shouting came from the set and I recognized my sister’s defensive tone. I got up and headed toward the noise with Jordan right behind me.

“I know that voice—it’s Bernadette. Let the kitties work it out. They have to learn to play nice together.” Jordan threw up his hands.

I knew he was right. Sonia was an adult and work conflicts didn’t fall under the stalker stopping and murderer hunting job I’d given myself. “I can still watch with everyone else.”

“You’re watching is menacing. You got those crazy eyes, girl.”

I stopped and stared at him. “What?”

“Yeah, they change color. Like a cat’s eye. Darker green when you’re mad and lighter when you’re happy. More flecks of blue and gold then too.”

“That’s just eye dilation and light reflection.” I resumed walking with a chuckle.

“No, those are some wild color eyes. Hazel shouldn’t be weird but you’ve got a changeup pair. I knew a guy who had one green and one blue. I thought it was so hot.”

“My grandma had a cat like that,” I said over my shoulder as I followed the sounds of arguing.

“They were fake. One was a contact lens. Jerk,” Jordan complained.

“You’re mad over a contact?” With all the cosmetic enhancement in Hollywood it seemed an odd place to draw the line. I paused at the edge of the set and observed the shouting match. “Sure this isn’t part of the script?”

Jordan shook his head, still stuck in his story of betrayal. “That bastard had all the guys at the bar curious about that eye thing. He used it.”

Sam jumped in the middle of the actresses. “What’s the problem?”

Sonia threw a magazine at Bernadette. “She stuck that in my prop file. She’s trying to sabotage me.”

Bernadette went right back to calm. “I did absolutely nothing of the kind. I don’t touch that tabloid filth and I wouldn’t waste money to buy it. Don’t blame me if your personal life is going to hell and ruining the show.”

Sam grabbed the magazine. It had a picture of Danny and the new girl on the cover walking along the beach holding hands. A tribute. The tabloid rags weren’t letting the story go.

“I’ll take this up with the prop master,” he said.

“Anyone could’ve done it. That file folder has been sitting out there on the desk all day.” Bernadette held up her hands. “Oh look, big sis is here to fight your battles.”

I smirked. “She can fight her own battles but I’m keeping track of any threats.”

Bernadette didn’t respond and instead just looked away. Maybe she was behind Sonia’s trouble and Danny’s murder was unrelated. I had to consider it.

Sonia glared at the other actress. “She just wants my job.”

Bernadette shrugged. “If you can’t hack it they should give it to someone who can. Keep your personal life off the set.”

I didn’t even try to stop my comment. “Since you just got divorced six months ago I thought you’d be more sympathetic. Guess no one cared enough to stalk
you
.”

Fury filled the eyes of the Brit and I turned for neutral corners as Sam called for a fifteen minute break.

Jordan went the other way to sooth Sonia while I headed for the back. I heard the click of heels behind me so orderly that they had to belong to Bernadette.

“How dare you? I don’t bring my personal life on set. How did you find out?” she demanded.

“None of your business. I really hope you don’t lose your temper this way at home with your little daughter.” I didn’t turn and look at her. She wasn’t worth engaging.

“Who do you think you are?”

When she grabbed my left arm I froze for a split second.

Not
a good idea to grab me. I spun and pinned Bernadette face first to the wall, tightening my grip on her elbow until she winced.

“Stop it. I didn’t do it,” she gasped.

“Grabbing me from behind is very dumb. You want a fight? I’ll give you one.” One bad incident early in my career and I couldn’t shake my reaction when grabbed from behind. I eased up on her.

“I didn’t put the magazine there. You have to believe me,” she pleaded.

I did. “Who put it there?”

“Does it matter? It’s just a joke. They had it opened to an article on you and someone must’ve messed with the props and it closed up.”

“Me? Why?”

“Your history—your ex is in the FBI. They are pictures of you from martial arts competitions. Don’t you believe in makeup or care you how you look?” She took a deep breath, as deep as I’d let her.

“You sweat it off. But you’ve probably never exercised yourself into a sweat ever. Who put the magazine there?” Her look was so controlled and inflexible I couldn’t imagine her breaking into a run.

“Rob. He’s just trying to lighten things up. He’s bad at it.”

I let her go and stalked down the hall. Without knocking I kicked in the poorly constructed door to Rob’s dressing room.

“What the hell?” He stood wearing little more than boxers.

I braced my hands on the doorjamb. “No more jokes on my sister. Got it?”

“It was a joke on you—learn to laugh. Not everyone is terrified of you.” He stood up and puffed out his bare and perfectly waxed chest.