Hollywood Notorious: A Hollywood Alphabet Thriller Series (A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Book 14) (20 page)

Dr. Ellen Moore fought against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She tried to take slow, even breaths, and push down her fear. She had no idea where she was, but reasoned she’d been in the trunk of her captors’ car for almost an hour.

The horrifying images of what Quinton Macy and Joshua Brown had done to her husband haunted her. She’d been bound and gagged and then brought into the bedroom as they’d tortured Brian. When it was over and they removed her gag, she’d pleaded with them to let her go.

Joshua had laughed at her request, saying, “Look on the bright side. At least he’ll never talk back or cheat on you again.”

Ellen had no idea how he’d known Brian had cheated on her, unless he’d secretly been watching her family in the weeks prior to everything happening. She tried not to dwell on the horrible events, instead focusing her mind on her present circumstances and concentrating on the movements of the car.

She knew they’d been on a freeway for a long time, but had turned off onto surface streets about ten minutes earlier. The air felt heavier now and she had a thought they might be near the ocean. That thought led to a memory of her and Brian taking the children to the beach last summer. The children. She could only pray that the monsters who held her captive wouldn’t go after Eric and Jennifer.

Focus…Breathe…Concentrate…

Several minutes passed before the car slowed down, turned, and then parked. When the engine was turned off, she heard muffled voices. Then Joshua’s voice grew louder. Was it her imagination, or were they arguing?

A door opened and then closed. Minutes passed. She wanted to scream, but she could barely breathe, let alone call out for help with the gag in her mouth. The minutes ticked by until she heard a door open, the men talking to one another again. The car started and she had the impression they were moving slowly, maybe through a parking lot.

The car stopped, then she heard both doors opening, followed by footsteps. The trunk lid swung up and for an instant she saw the face of her captors. A blanket came down, covering her, before she was lifted up and carried away.

A few minutes later, a door closed behind her and she was lowered. The blanket came off and she realized she was in a small room. It took a moment for her senses to clear. She was in a motel room. What were they going to do to her?

Seconds later, Joshua was in front of her, his face inches from hers. “I’m going to remove the gag. If you scream or show any form of resistance, we’ll make sure what happened to Brian happens to you, only worse. Understand?”

She nodded. He reached up and removed the gag. When he was satisfied that she was going to cooperate, he did the same with the ropes that bound her legs.

“Use the bathroom, then come back,” Joshua ordered.

As she stumbled toward the bathroom, Ellen saw that Quinton Macy’s yellow eyes were fixed on her. That thin familiar smile was on his lips, terrifying her.

While she was in the bathroom, Ellen’s first thought was to try and get out through a window and escape, but the only window was high up and inaccessible. As she used the toilet, she listened to her captors’ voices again. One of the men raised his voice, his tone pitching higher. They were arguing. She was sure of it now. Joshua was angry, saying something about it being enough. Was he talking about the killings? Or were they arguing about what to do with her, how to kill her?

The voices stopped and the doorknob turned. She stood up, at the same time pulling her pants up. Joshua was there, telling her to follow him. Moments later, she was standing in front of Quinton Macy. She saw that he had a chain in his hands, probably the same chain that had been used to restrain him at Halgen. He came over, wrapping it around her wrists, and locking it in place.

He was so close now that she could smell his rank breath as he spoke. “Let’s go for a little stroll on the beach, Ellen.” He tugged on the chain, pulling her over to the door, but stopped there. His amber eyes fixed on her, unblinking. “Same rules. Absolute silence and cooperation or…” the smile returned, “…you know.”

As they walked, Ellen was consumed with fear, her heart rattling in her chest like a spoon drumming on a kettle. She fought the panic that threatened to overwhelm her when they got to the beach. They were alone, the only sound the breaking of waves in the distance. Macy tugged on her chain, stopping her. She glanced at him, then lowered her eyes. She didn’t want to look into the face of the insane killer that had mutilated her husband and now controlled her destiny.

“I would imagine by now you’re wondering why I’m doing this.”

Her captor’s words were low, but, for the moment, seemed less threatening.

“Yes,” she managed, still not looking at him.

“Do you remember when we first met and I asked you a question?”

She nodded. Eyes downcast.

“It was about time. What is time?” When she didn’t answer, Macy said, “You’re going to have to do better than this. I expect your full attention and cooperation.”

She took a breath and met his amber eyes. They glowed in the darkness, like a predatory animal caught in the moonlight. She cleared her throat. “I said that time is a point…I think I said it’s when an event takes place that we…we measure other events by.”

“Very good.” He tugged on her chain and they walked slowly along the shore again. “My response was that death marks a point in time, and it is death that we’re all waiting for.” He stopped, forcing her to do the same. He then waited until she looked at him. “Do you think I’m a monster?”

She took in a breath, knowing he expected an honest answer. “Yes.”

He chuckled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” His gaze moved over to the breaking waves beneath the moon and stars. “The real monster is death, Ellen. We are each born into a world where the bloodthirsty beast inexorably descends upon us, minute by minute, hour by hour. It comes in many forms. It can find us in the metastasis of cancer cells that march into our brains like ruthless soldiers, replacing personality and memory, and extinguishing the light with its dark, heartless hand. For some of us it comes in the inglorious explosion of a heart that is worn down by the degradations of the world until it explodes in our chest.” His eyes remained fixed on her. “Death is our constant visitor, one that measures every fleeting glimpse of happiness against the scythe that will fall in perfect cadence until it marks the end of our existence.”

He paused, his gaze moving off again. “The difference, Ellen, is that I have turned the tables on the beast. I am the one that chases down the real monster and shows its face to the world.”

Ellen knew that Quinton Macy was insane, but in that moment she understood how truly deranged he was. This was intellect and reason trapped in a madness that was determined to carry out its own insane plans, without regard of the cost to anyone who got in its way. If there truly were monsters born into this world, Quinton Macy was the apex predator.

“Do you smell that?”

His words surprise her. “I’m sorry?”

“The smell of the sea.” He turned to her with his now familiar thin smile. “It’s a unique combination; a diverse mix of chemical interactions, a boiling caldron where the drama of food, sex, and death plays itself out day by day.”

She surprised herself by finding the courage to say, “What are you going to do next?”

His amber eyes blinked, then fixed on her. “I’m sure you don’t understand this, but you’re an extremely lucky woman. You’ve been chosen to be a part of one of the greatest spectacles ever seen. You’re going to have a front row seat as I show the world that anyone can be turned into a killer.”

We all felt the need to wind down after our day and stopped at a restaurant for a late dinner. I then got home around nine and, as usual, my friends caught me trying to sneak home.

“Kate, get over here,” Natalie said, opening her front door. “You gotta see this.”

I stopped in front of her porch with Bernie. She was wearing a man’s suit, had on a fake moustache, and was carrying a briefcase. “What’s going on?”

“We got us a rehearsal for the
Judge Rita
show. Mo’s playing the part of the judge.”

Curiosity overcame my exhaustion and I followed her inside. A moment later, I burst out laughing when I saw what was happening. Mo was sitting behind a makeshift judge’s bench, wearing a powdered wig and a black robe. She’d elevated her chair with several books and was pounding a gavel on the table in front of her.

“Order in this court,” Mo said, glaring at me. She turned to Hermes Krump, who was wearing a dark suit, his own powdered wig, and was pacing in front of her makeshift bench. “You may continue, counselor.”

Krump made an effort to lower his squeaky voice. “My clients are innocent, your honor. They have made every effort to comply with the Starlight Code of Ethics. These charges are a sham.”

I now realized that Natalie was playing the role of opposing counsel, Mean Gene. She also tried to lower her voice. “Objection, Judge Rita. Mr. Krump is stating facts not in evidence.”

It occurred to me that Natalie might have a point. Maybe she’d learned her craft from having watched court proceedings on television.

“Overruled,” Mo said. She levelled her dark eyes on Krump. “I’m going to allow you some discretion in these proceedings, counselor. But you will need to give this court a factual basis for your claims, or I will rule in favor of the plaintiff.”

Our attorney seemed flustered. He turned red and started to stammer. “I think…I mean, my clients are in…innocent.” His voice firmed. “These violations are without merit.”

“He’s in contempt,” Natalie said in the persona of Mean Gene. “His clients have no right to live in a park designated for senior citizens and to violate written policies. I demand they be evicted immediately.”

Krump said something unintelligible and started sweating. His gaze moved down to his suit pants and he mumbled, “Oh, no.”

Mo pounded her gavel on the table and sighed. “This court is in recess because the defense counsel just wet his pants.” Judge Mo then shifted her weight, apparently forgetting that her chair was elevated by a stack of books. She went tumbling backward, landing in a heap behind her makeshift bench, at the same time her wig went flying off her head.

Natalie and I rushed over to help her up. “You okay?” I asked.

She found her wig and put it back in place, then motioned to our attorney. “I’m better than our lawyer.” She looked at Natalie. “He’s gonna need lots of work, not to mention a diaper.”

Natalie had slipped out of her Mean Gene role. “Before he appears in front of Judge Rita, we’re gonna have to make sure he’s drunk, he’s got his childhood doll with him, and he’s wearing a diaper.”

Krump blushed, but tried to pull himself together. “I think…it’s all Natalie’s fault. I had…th…three Grasshoppers.”

Mo shook her powdered head at him. “Go clean up. We’ll try this again later.”

After Krump slogged off to the bathroom, we all took seats on their sofa.

“I saw what happened on the Reaper case today,” Mo said. “It looked like some bad shit went down.”

“According to Carmine Feckle, they cut that shrink’s husband’s privates off,” Natalie said.

“And a lot more. It was a pretty bad scene.” I knew that most of the details of what happened to Brian Moore were already circulating on the Internet.

Mo removed her wig and worked on her matted hair. “I knew I was right about there being two killers working together. What you think they’re gonna do to that woman they took?”

“I can’t say, but I’m sure it will be nothing good.”

Natalie removed her Mean Gene moustache and offered up her opinion. “I think they’re gonna use her in some kinda crazy killing display again. She’s a goner.”

When I didn’t respond, Mo said, “You seem a little down, Kate. You still upset over what happened with Noah?”

I exhaled and nodded. “That’s probably part of it. I think I should have given him more of a chance to explain about what happened with his fiancée and how it affected his life. I didn’t handle things very well.”

“Maybe you oughta have another talk with him.”

I agreed with her before Natalie gave me her opinion. “I got a better idea. Nana and me went shopping today and I got me a Mr. Kong in case you wanna give it a go tonight.”

I laughed and yawned at the same time. “The last thing I need is a Mr. Kong. I’m going to turn in.”

I stood and headed for the door, but Mo stopped me by asking, “What’s the latest on what you found out about that Ryland nut job maybe being involved in the murder of your love-dad?”

I turned back to her. “Actually, nothing. I’m still planning to talk to my mother about what she knows, but I haven’t had a chance because of work.”

“Me and Mo can go with you for moral support,” Natalie offered. “Maybe your mum knows everything that happened and she’s been keeping it from you all these years.”

“Just like the fact that you were adopted,” Mo agreed.

I exhaled, not wanting to believe that was a possibility, but at the same time knowing it could be true. “I’ll have to see how my work schedule goes. I’ll let you know.”

I glanced over, seeing that Krump had come out of the bathroom. He had removed his wig and had a towel wrapped around his head.

Mo looked at him. “You feelin’ better, counselor?”

Krump nodded sheepishly. “Much better.” He looked at me. “What did you think of my performance?”

I suppressed a visual of Krump wearing his powdered wig, standing in front of Judge Rita with his doll, and wetting his pants. “I think your Judge Rita performance might be something that’s talked about for years.”