Hollywood Prisoner: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller (30 page)

BOOK: Hollywood Prisoner: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller
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SEVENTY-FIVE

Since I was on administrative leave, I decided to spend the next week at the beach, taking advantage of the beachfront bungalow I had permission to use. The days were long and lazy, with Bernie and me strolling along the sand, trying to forget about the world. Brie Henner was able to get some time off and spend a day with me. She was coping remarkably well, considering her illness, and I was grateful for the time we had together and for her sharing her gentle wisdom.

It felt good to have the cases I’d worked behind me, knowing that, to the extent possible, justice had been served for the victims. I made a point of calling Gloria Landry to check on her. She was home from the hospital and taking things one day at a time. I made plans to get together with her for lunch in the next couple weeks.

I also did my best to put the Swarm and Harlee Ryland out of my mind. I knew that I hadn’t heard the last from either of them, but decided to do my best to live in the present and honor the legend Francesca had told me about by feeding the light wolf.

My thoughts also occasionally drifted to Lindsay. I wanted, more than anything, to pick up the phone and call her, but knew that wasn’t possible. I prayed that she was making the best of her new life, and it was filled with happiness.

The last night at the beach before returning to Hollywood, Bernie and I went for a stroll along the sand as the sun was setting. A thick fog bank was drifting over the water, making visibility tenuous. I stopped when the fog cleared a bit, admiring the sunset. I then returned to the deck of my bungalow, where I put some logs in the fire pit and opened a bottle of wine. Maybe it was the relaxing nature of my surroundings or the wine, but I found myself drifting off to sleep.

I was almost asleep when I heard the voice of a child calling out to me. “Thank you.”

I looked over and saw that a girl was sitting next to me, staring into the fire. She had auburn hair and blue eyes. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or there really was a girl here.

“What...who are you?” I asked.

She looked at me and smiled. “My name is Lilliana.”

It took a moment, but then I remembered the child that Victoria Turner had run down on the street years ago. Could this really be that same child? Or was this some kind of strange dream brought about by the stress of working my cases?

“How...how did you get here?” I asked.

She turned away, facing the fire again, the flames illuminating her pretty face.

“It’s a funny thing about fire,” she said. “It takes things away when it burns, but it also shines a light in the darkness.” She looked back to me. “What do you see when you look into the flames?”

My gaze went over to the fire, watching the flames rising up and disappearing into the night air. I felt something shift inside of me and realized that somehow I was changed. Maybe it was the dream I was having, but I saw myself as a little girl, no more than four years old.

“I see myself,” I said to her, now almost sure this was just a dream, “when I was little.”

Lilliana nodded. “What else?”

I continued to stare into the flames, watching intently as images began to form. I saw myself as a child again, but now I was moving through my mother’s house.

“I’m home,” I told Lilliana, in the voice of my four-year-old self. “I’m at mommy’s house.”

“And?”

“I’m in my bedroom. There’s a place here...it’s where the boards are loose near the window, and there’s a space behind the wall.”

“And what do you have in your hand?”

I saw myself walking over to the window. “Some papers.”

“Where did they come from?”

My little girl voice became choked with emotion, and I saw there were tears on my face. “From the park...they fell out of his pocket.”

“Whose pocket?”

“Daddy’s...they...they fell on the ground when...”

“When he went away,” Lilliana said.

“Yes,” I cried. “When Daddy died.”

“What are you going to do with the papers?”

“I’m going to hide them. I’m not sure why, but I think they might help Daddy. I’m going to place them behind the boards in my bedroom and not tell anyone.”

I watched myself concealing the papers behind the wall in my mother’s old house, before pushing the boards around the window back into place. The images I’d been seeing then faded away.

I looked over at Lilliana, realizing the little girl I once was had gone away. “Why are you here?”

“Because I’m free now and because I needed to show you the light. It will help you understand.”

“Understand what?”

Lilliana’s smile returned. “Who you are.”

I was so shocked by what I heard that I was rendered speechless. Her voice...it was suddenly clear to me. It was the same voice that I’d heard during my near-death experience, asking me who I was. I was now sure of it.

My phone was on the table next to me. When it rang, I grabbed for the phone, but fumbled and dropped it. After I picked it up I looked over, realizing Lilliana was gone. It was as though she’d suddenly vanished into the air. I again had a thought that the entire experience had been a dream and that I was now awake as I answered the call.

I heard Leo’s deep, familiar voice on the line. I tried to focus my attention on what he was saying, but I was still trying to understand what I’d just experienced. Had I really found some papers when my father had been shot? Were they hidden away in my mother’s house?

My mind finally cleared. A sense of anticipation overwhelmed me as I began to process what I thought Leo had said.

“Can you repeat what you just said?” I asked him.

“It’s Pearl,” Leo said. “He’s been found.”

 

THE END

CONTESTS:

This book, like all the Hollywood Alphabet Series novels, contains an interesting Hollywood fact or quote from a famous movie star that may be used in my monthly trivia contest. Contests may be related to information in this book or Hollywood in general. There’s a new contest running every month, it’s easy to enter, and the prizes are great.

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THANKS FOR READING

HOLLYWOOD PRISONER

 

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Copyright © 2016 by MZ Kelly

Published by Kingston Roads Press, L.L.C.

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, businesses, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

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