Hollywood Outlaw: A Hollywood Alphabet SeriesThriller (A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Book 15) (28 page)

Edna insisted on going with us to Morgan Hathaway’s house in Beverly Hills. Since Bernie was back on duty, the lieutenant rode in a separate car with Leo, while Bernie and I got stuck with Darby. It was late morning by the time we all left the station.

Carlyle Waggoner’s assistant lived in a guest house that was at the rear of a property owned by Jason Breen, a former NBA player. The property was gated and behind tall hedges.

Darby was driving as we stopped at the gates and announced ourselves to a servant over the security system.

“We need to see Morgan Hathaway on police business,” Darby barked. “Open the gates, now.”

“What is this matter regarding?” a man asked, with the hint of a foreign accent I couldn’t place.

“It’s regarding us throwing your ass in jail, unless you let us in now.”

“One moment, please,” the servant said.

“Open the fucking gate, NOW, or we’ll break it down.”

Sometimes, being an asshole has its advantages. Intimidation prevailed, and the gates swung open. Darby stomped on the gas and followed a circular driveway in front of the main house, before finding a separate driveway leading to the rear of the property. We found the guesthouse Hathaway was living in near the estate’s swimming pool. She had apparently already been alerted to our arrival, because she met us on the front porch of her home.

“What’s this all about?” Hathaway demanded. She was wearing a robe, no makeup, and her hair was mussed.

“This is about your involvement in the murder of Bert Prince,” Darby barked.

“What? This is complete nonsense.” Despite her denials, I saw the pupils of her blue eyes widen.

“Let’s go inside, where we can talk,” I said to her, tugging on Bernie’s leash. As Leo took over, escorting her into the house, I lowered my voice and said to Edna, “I think this is a situation where less is more.”

“What are you talking about?”

I motioned for him to follow me. We walked a few feet toward the swimming pool, where I said, “I’m talking about you taking Darby for a walk, or maybe for coffee, or just someplace where he won’t interfere. Leo and I can handle this. We don’t need the intimidation factor.”

The lieutenant exhaled. “I understand. Call me if you need anything.”

Ten minutes later, with Edna and Darby gone, Leo and I sat down with Hathaway in the small dining room of her cottage, while Bernie settled at my feet. As we laid out what we thought we knew about the embezzlement from the Princes and Abrams, she continued to protest her innocence, until I mentioned her criminal past.

“You did time in federal prison for falsifying financial records and embezzling funds from the equity fund you worked for. That history came in handy when you went to work for Nicolai Asimov.”

Hathaway closed her eyes and exhaled. Several seconds passed before she finally said, “You know.”

“We know everything,” I said firmly, knowing that cops often got to the truth by making it sound like they knew more than they did.

“Tell us about you and Asimov,” Leo said, lowering his baritone voice.

Hathaway sat there, not speaking, with her eyes still closed, for close to a minute. When she spoke, there was resignation in her voice. “I did it for the money, but I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Tell us how it all went down.”

Hathaway brushed the blonde hair out of her eyes when they finally opened and began telling us how she came to be involved with a terrorist. “When I was in prison, there was a lot of stuff going on behind the scenes. After a few months, I learned there was an entire underground network that was connected to radical groups. I ended up getting to know an inmate who told me about someone she knew who was working for a guy who paid a lot of money for certain tasks. To make a long story short, I needed the money and went to work for him. He, in turn, eventually connected me with some other people who knew Nicolai.” She looked at me. “You probably know most of the rest of the story.”

We spent the next few minutes confirming that she went to work for Carlyle Waggoner as a means to steal from the Princes and gain access to Cole Abrams’ technology.

“Originally, Nicolai’s plan was for me to just set the embezzlement scheme in place with Danika Kirkland by having us both falsify the financial records and frame Bert and Marisha for everything. He washed the money through a couple of false corporations and sent it offshore. I never saw any of it once it left the Prince family accounts.”

“Was Kirkland on Asimov’s payroll?” I asked.

“He didn’t have to pay her. Danika believed in the jihad and would do anything for Nicolai. When things began to unravel and Nicolai became worried that Bert’s attorney would talk about Danika being involved, he sent her to take Swenson out, using Marisha Dole’s car. He knew that Swenson would have security cameras at his estate, the car would be identified as belonging to Dole, and she would go down for the murder. When Danika was almost caught in the act of killing Swenson, she panicked, and…” She looked away from me, shaking her head. “I guess you could say she died for Nicolai and her beliefs.”

“How much were you paid for your role in everything?” Leo asked.

She folded her arms and chuckled. “A couple hundred thousand, but it was nothing compared to what Nicolai ended up with.” Her eyes grew heavy. “The money was secondary, anyway. I secretly became involved with Bert to gain access to his family’s bank accounts with Danika, but...” She released a heavy breath. “Bert was special. He was unlike any man I’ve ever known.”

I now understood why Hathaway had thrown herself on Prince’s casket. She not only was sleeping with him, she’d been in love with him.

“And Cole Abrams?” I asked. “How did he fit into everything that happened?”

“Paulina and I were both operatives, trained by Nicolai. He knew Cole was worth a fortune and used Paulina to do the same thing Danika and I were doing with the Princes. When she learned about the immersive technology Cole was working on, Paulina told me about it.” She smiled. “As they say, the rest is history. I used my position with Waggoner and took what he already knew about the technology and the documents Paulina stole, and gave it all to Nicolai.”

“And you tortured him for the technology,” Leo said.

She shook her head. “I don’t torture or kill people. Nicolai has other people for that.”

“People who eventually killed him?”

“Probably. I wasn’t privy to the details.”

“And Paulina?” I said. “When he was finished using her, he killed her and made it look like a suicide.”

Hathaway nodded. “I planted the gun in Addison’s car, but when we realized it was on video, we had to find someone else to go down for Cole’s murder. Paulina was the only option, especially since she was in love with him.”

“What’s your relationship with Nicolai Asimov now?” Leo asked. “Do you know where he is?”

Her eyes became unfocused. “I have no idea. All I know is that his people are trying to kill me. They made an attempt on my life last night, but I got away.” She met Leo’s eyes. “I need you to put me into protective custody.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Leo said before glancing at me. He then looked back at her. “We have just one more question: If you didn’t kill Bert Prince, who did?”

Hathaway folded her arms and exhaled. “I might be a lot of things, including a thief, Detective, but, as I said, I’m not a killer. It was his daughter.”

“It was a payback,” Morgan Hathaway said. “Bert Prince failed to protect the daughter he and Lady adopted from his own perverted son.”

Leo and I exchanged glances. “Are you talking about Florence?” I said.

She nodded. “From what Carlyle told me, Bruce had been molesting her for years and nobody made any attempt to stop it.”

“So she confronted her father in his den and shot him,” I said, thinking about Griselda Lugosi’s words, that the killing was about something being stolen that can’t be returned.

She nodded. “I was at the house with Carlyle for a meeting with Sly Sylvester and Marisha Dole. I’d gone to the bathroom and when I was about to leave I saw everything. After Florence left, I took the gun. My original thought was to use it to frame Dole, but Nicolai said she’d be in prison on the embezzlement charges anyway and had me use it to frame Blaine. He said she would go down for both murders and our problems would be solved.”

“And he also knew that Bert and she had been involved at one time,” I said.

She nodded. “Addison is a smart girl. That’s how she found out about the theft from Cole’s accounts. Nicolai wanted her out of the picture.”

Leo and I spent another half hour with Hathaway as she filled in a few more blanks. The story she told seemed credible. She had no reason to implicate Florence Prince in the murder of her father unless it was true.

We had Hathaway in handcuffs when Lieutenant Edna arrived back at her cottage with Darby and came rushing over to us.

“I just got a call there’s some kind of disturbance at the Princes’ house,” Edna said. “One of the daughters has a gun and is making threats.”

***

Leo and I left Morgan Hathaway with Darby, who was spouting obscenities at us as we piled into Edna’s car. We were less than ten minutes from the Princes’ estate, Nirvana, when Edna got another call.

“That was dispatch,” he said. “Patrol’s in route to the house. We may get there about the same time.”

We cut the arrival time to Nirvana in half, beating the uniformed officers to the scene. The gates to the estate were open as we pulled up. Paris and Monaco met us at the front door. They were both frantic.

“It’s our sister,” Monaco said. “She said she’s going to kill Bruce.”

“She’s got a gun,” Paris added.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“On the second floor. Mother went up to check on them. Bruce’s bedroom is down…”

We heard a couple of gunshots ring out, cutting off her words. Our weapons came out as I tugged on Bernie’s lead, scrambling up the circular staircase with Leo and Edna following. We were on the second floor landing when I heard footsteps down the hall, a door closing.

“Police!” I called out. “You need to drop the weapon and come out!”

There was no response. We were heading down the hallway when a door suddenly opened. I aimed my gun in that direction, but at the last second held my fire.

A man with a camera poked his head out of a bedroom and said, “Is it all clear?” Sly Sylvester was standing behind the cameraman.

I said to them both, “You need to get back in the bedroom and stay there until we tell you that it’s okay to leave.”

Sylvester protested. “But this is the story of a lifetime, and…”

I pushed Sylvester and the cameraman back into the bedroom, slamming the door on them. I then turned back to the hallway, with Bernie leading the way forward. The police unit had arrived, and we had the uniformed officers follow us.

We were nearing the end of the hallway when we heard a woman’s voice coming from a bedroom where the door was closed. It was Florence. “You knew everything that was happening for years, didn’t you?”

We stopped at the door and heard Lady. Her voice was frantic. “I tried to stop him…I told your father, but…”

“He raped me, Mother. Over and over…” Her voice faded away, and there was sobbing.

I knew time was short and motioned to Leo and Edna, turning the doorknob and holding Bernie back. The door swung open at the same time a gunshot rang out.

Leo and Edna made entry into the bedroom, with me and Bernie following. By the time I entered the room and tugged on Bernie’s leash, giving him the command to stand down, everything was over. Florence was in handcuffs on the bedroom floor, sobbing hysterically. Her mother was up against a wall, where it looked like she’d tried to get away from her daughter. Even as Leo went over to check for a pulse, I knew she was dead.

Less than a minute later, I looked up as Sly Sylvester and his cameraman came rushing into the bedroom. “Get the shot!” Sylvester yelled at his cameraman. “Don’t miss any of this!”

I was ushering them out of the room when the uniformed officers came down the hallway from the bedroom at the end of the hall.

“One down, a male, in the far bedroom,” one of the cops said. “Looks like she shot him in the head, then the groin.”

“Does this make me look fat?” I asked Natalie and Mo, showing off my little black dress.

Mo regarded me with one eye below a mountain of orange wig hair. “Not any more than my hair makes me look tall.”

“You look like you swallowed a small boy, and he’s strugglin’ to get out,” Natalie added.

“You should both do standup,” I said, knowing they were just giving me a bad time.

I turned away from them, examining the dress in their bedroom mirror. It wasn’t new and it wasn’t great, but it was Charlie and Jessica’s wedding day, so it would have to do. Considering the woman my former partner was marrying, black seemed like the perfect choice for the occasion. Bernie was staying with Leo for the day, and I decided he was the lucky one. None of us were looking forward to Charlie marrying someone who Natalie referred to as the biggest shrew in Hollywood.

It had been three days since we’d arrested Florence Prince for the murder of her parents, her brother, and her aunt. After she was in custody, Florence admitted everything, including running down Christina Conrad after she’d confided in her about being molested by her brother. Her aunt had responded by saying that she’d made it all up. She had later overheard Conrad telling her mother about their conversation and them both laughing about it. Florence would probably end up spending several years in prison, but, if there was ever a case for justifiable homicide, it was hers.

I’d heard through the grapevine that Sly Sylvester was working with Paris and Monaco to create a new version of the reality TV show, called
The Prince Sisters of Beverly Hills
. Even though I knew it would likely be successful because of their sordid family history, in my mind it was the worst form of pandering to tasteless viewers who never seemed to grow tired of mindless entertainment.

At Lieutenant Edna’s request, I’d talked to Joe Dawson yesterday. He said the feds still had no leads on Nicolai Asimov. They were speculating that he’d changed identities and had possibly taken up operations in another country. It was unnerving to think that his terrorist operations were being funded, in part, by money stolen from the country he wanted to destroy. My only consolation was that he was now high on the feds’ radar.

Dawson had also said that Lindsay was still working underground. He promised to let me know when they intended to extract her and take down those members of the Swarm she was identifying. I’d told him that I wanted to be there as a civilian when it happened, after telling him about my decision to quit law enforcement. He said that he understood what I was doing, but also told me that quitting my job was a mistake. He said if anyone was ever cut out to be in law enforcement, it was me. I told him I couldn’t argue with him, but that I didn’t have anything left to give. We promised to talk again in a couple of days.

“We’d better be going,” Mo said, adjusting her wig, then her tight red dress. “I don’t wanna miss Charlie and Jessica putting their hands and footprints in the cement in front of the Chinese theatre.”

Natalie loosened the top button on her too-tight dress. “Maybe Charlie will come to his senses, put Jessica in the cement, let it harden, and toss her in the ocean.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” I said, “unless someone on that website you put his story on made a hefty donation.”

“I checked hope4adope a little while ago. Looks like it’s happily ever after for your former partner.”

As Mo drove us to the wedding venue, she glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Did you and Noah ever get together?”

I’d almost convinced myself that Noah had made a decision to leave me alone and go his own way—almost. “He texted me, but I made an excuse not to see him. I just can’t stomach the idea of being around him.”

“It would be like slurpin’ up a pot of haggis with the devil,” Natalie said. “I still think we should shoot poison darts at the bloke.”

“I’m just going to try to forget about him, Russell, and Ryland for a while,” I said. “My mom’s cousin has a place over in Laguna Beach. I think I’m going to take a few weeks off and just hang out there with Bernie, take some walks on the beach, and forget about the world for a while.”

Mo glanced at me again. “What ‘bout Pearl? You just gonna forget ‘bout your daddy, too?”

“I don’t know that he is my father and, no, I’m not going to forget about him. Leo’s got some feelers out and is still hoping to track him down.” I sighed. “But the truth is, if he made a decision to go away because I was getting closer to finding out the truth about him, then…I’m not sure I want to see him.”

We got to the Chinese theatre as the sun was setting. There were only a handful of other wedding guests milling about the forecourt, mainly friends of Jessica’s and her cousin. My friends and I went over and examined the block of wet cement that was set in a wooden frame waiting for Charlie and his bride to immortalize their big day.

“I heard Jessica wears a pair of size twelves,” Mo said, examining the frame. “Hope she can get her big feet in there.”

While she spoke, Natalie had gone over and put her feet in Marilyn Monroe’s footprints. She was wearing a white dress and fluffed it out in a way that was reminiscent of the iconic actress in a scene from the movie
The Seven Year Itch
. She then imitated the actress, saying, “When it’s hot like this, I put my undies in an icebox.”

All eyes seemed to turn her way. Even Spider-Man and Batman, who had been posing for photos with the tourists, seemed transfixed.

Mo went over and took her by the arm. “You’d better come with me, baby sis. Your undies are ‘bout as far from an icebox as they can get, and I got me a feelin’ you’re gonna start a riot.”

A few minutes later, a rent-a-preacher arrived and told us that Charlie and Jessica would be arriving shortly. We were watching for their car, when a Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb.

Natalie looked at the man who was helping someone out of the car and said, “The bloke looks like Colonel Sanders. He must be one of the characters workin’ here posin’ with the tourists.”

“It’s Hermes Krump,” I said, laughing at his suit and now seeing that he was helping Nana out of her car.

Nana was wearing a flowing silver gown, a feather boa, and was smoking a cigarette that was in one of those long holders. She’d also dyed her hair black, reminding me of an older, skinnier version of Cruella De Vil. She and her “colonel” came over to us.

“We just got out of court,” Nana said, with a scowl on her face. “We lost.”

Krump took issue with what she’d said. “We didn’t actually lose. My client just didn’t get to keep everything she hoped for.”

“I lost half my fortune,” Nana said. “Claude’s brother Boris gets half the house and says he’s gonna move in with me. On top of that, I’m only worth about 450 million now.”

“Just enough to barely scrape by on,” Mo said. She looked at Krump. “You really wore that chicken suit to court?”

“It was her idea,” Krump said, pointing at me. “I think my outfit is part of the reason we lost the case.”

“I thought it would give him some charm,” I said, trying to defend myself. “As in a charming southern lawyer.”

“You blew it,” Nana said to me. “The judge even said something about him lookin’ finger-licking stupid.”

“Kate didn’t blow nuthin’,” Mo said, looking at me and smiling. “Me and baby sis can vouch for that.” She looked back at Nana. “And if you can’t get by on half a billion bucks, there ain’t no hope for you.”

“Looks like the happy couple is arriving,” Natalie said.

A limo pulled up behind Nana’s Rolls. We went over as the driver opened the door for Charlie. When I saw him, it took every ounce of strength I had not to burst out laughing. He was wearing a white tuxedo with a red ruffled shirt and matching bow tie. It made Krump’s colonel suit look tame by comparison.

My friends, who lacked a certain amount of tact, also demonstrated they lacked my ability to control their laughter.

“You look like one of them singers from the seventies,” Natalie said, chortling.

“Or maybe John Travolta in a time warp from
Saturday Night Fever
,” Mo said, slapping a knee. She raised an arm and sang the line, “Staying Alive.”

Nana was less delicate. “You look like an idiot who escaped from the set of some old movie. What’s up with that outfit?”

Charlie turned almost as red as his shirt and stammered, “It was…all Jessica’s idea. I feel…ridiculous.”

“Where is the blushing bride?” I asked.

Another sigh. “She’s coming in some sort of wagon.”

Less than a minute later, a horse-drawn carriage came down the street. Mo whispered to me. “I can’t wait to see what the bride’s wearing.”

“Maybe she’s got on one of them disco outfits,” Natalie said.

Maybe it was prescience on Natalie’s part, or just a lucky guess, but when Jessica stepped out of the carriage, I had the impression that I’d gone back in time to one of those dance shows from the 1970s. Jessica’s outfit consisted of knee-high white boots and a long sleeved fuchsia psychedelic mini-skirt.

Natalie lowered her voice and said to me, “She looks like a bride who dropped her cherry a couple of decades ago, it landed in some plum pudding, and splashed on her dress.”

“Maybe they’re having a retro-exhibit at the wax museum up the street,” Krump speculated.

“I think it’s some sorta throwback go-go dancer outfit,” Mo whispered.

Nana put it more bluntly. “She looks like a throwback alright, like somebody oughta throw her back in whatever stream she swam out of.”

The disco queen shot us all death stares as the rent-a-preacher played the wedding march on his smartphone and she made her way over to her groom. Charlie’s expression reminded me of a tubby boy in an odd suit who was about to take a dose of castor oil.

Since I was the best woman, as the ceremony began, I tried to discretely take my place beside Charlie without incurring Jessica’s wrath. He’d given me a ring to give back to him when the time came. Not to be catty, but the bauble looked like something you’d get in one of those kid’s gumball machines.

There was lots of whispered conversation between Natalie, Mo, and Nana as the ceremony began. I had no idea what they were talking about, but at one point I looked over and saw Natalie pulling out her iPhone.

My attention was drawn back to the ceremony as the preacher said to the gathering, “If anyone here knows why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Stop the ceremony!” Natalie yelled. “Charlie just went over the top!”

“What’s going on?” the minister demanded.

Natalie held up her phone. “An anonymous donor just made a big contribution to Charlie’s hope4adope fund.” She looked at my former partner. “You got enough to pay off that loan shark. You’re a free man.”

Charlie wasn’t a man who smiled a lot. In fact, the only time I ever saw him smile was after he’d gotten laid. Today was an exception. He smiled like he was having a prenuptial orgasm.

“I’m out of here,” Charlie said, yanking off his bow tie. He took off at a trot, or maybe it was more of a run, down Hollywood Boulevard.

Jessica came over to me and started screaming, “It’s all your fault! You turned him against me!”

“I had nothing to do with this,” I said, even though I was secretly overjoyed for Charlie.

“Don’t you go blamin’ Kate ‘cause you can’t keep your man,” Mo said, taking a step toward Jessica and placing her hands on her wide hips.

“You ask me, Charlie took off ‘cause he was scared,” Natalie said.

“Scared of what?” Jessica demanded.

“He didn’t want to end up married to a psycho disco queen.”

What followed could be described as a scrum, or a fight, or maybe even a mini-riot. All I know is that during the shoving and shouting match Jessica ended up falling backward into the block of cement that had been set up to memorialize her big event.

As Charlie’s former fiancée stood up and tried to wipe the wet goo off her face, Nana came over to me and said, “It was me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I made the donation to Charlie’s fund.” She looked at Jessica, who was screaming and still covered with the runny mess. “I’ve seen a lot of ugly things in my life, but the thought of Charlie and Disco Donna together was more than I could take.”