Shadows May Fall (4 page)

“Oh! Miss Lou!” Marta, the housekeeper appeared in the doorway to Lou’s quarters. “I didn’t know you were home!” With that, the sleeping puff balls were awake. They plopped off the chair and raced towards her.

“I just got in.” Lou informed her as she dropped her bag and took a seat on the floor to better receive the priceless puppy kisses. “Hi my littles! Did you miss me?” Angus quickly took a seat in Lou’s lap and ignored being jostled by the frantic puppies as they snorkeled, whined and clamored to get closer to their new mom. As greetings go, this was about the best thing Lou could have hoped for. All her worries and anxiety from her earlier discussion with Dillon and Caroline were gone.

“I’m making a good dinner so no snacking!” Marta warned. “I’ll get back to the kitchen and let you enjoy your babies.”

“Thank you Marta,” Lou managed to eek the words out between giggles. She sat their with Angus in her lap for at least a half hour, Bonnie and Clyde never letting up on the love fest. This was heaven to Lou and she wasn’t going to interrupt until they had enough. What person in their right mind would? No sooner than she thought it, the melody to The Godfather emanated from her phone. “Noooooooo!” She grumbled while digging her phone out of her pocket. The ringtone was Vinny’s, and that only meant one thing these days. “Please tell me your only calling to ask me to bring donuts in tomorrow?” Her tone was pathetic.

“Sorry kiddo.” Vinny replied. “You’re not gonna like this either. Dillon is on his way back to get you.”

“Why am I not gonna like this?” Lou scooped Angus from her lap, got up and headed inside. She figured she had at least five minutes to change into fresh clothes and grab a few Red Bulls.

“Dillon has the address, but we got a messy one at some fancy shmancy resort in palos Verdes.” He instinctively moved the phone away from is ear, knowing what was coming.

“Palos Verdes!” She screamed at him. “Oh come on, Vinny! Give it to Barnes and Rochelle! I just got home! We’ve been on without a break since Thursday!”

“Detective!” It was times like these that Vinny really loved being Lou’s boss. “You are up and even if you were not, I would want you and Detective Cole on this one.” He could almost hear her feet stomping like a petulant child.

“You suck!” Lou whined.

“And you are lucky I love ya or else you’d be busted down to Custody for that.” He would never. Lou was his best detective. She was his best partner, well next to her uncle that is. It had been an agonizing decision for him to put in for the promotion but it was the right decision. He loved being a homicide detective, and he loved working with Lou. But after his wife, who was twenty-plus years younger than him, told him she was pregnant with their first child, he needed to re-prioritize. Lou had supported him every step of the way but she also trampled on the line between pal and superior. It didn’t bother him one bit. It actually made him feel more comfortable in his new position of authority. “Rochelle and Barnes are on the triple in Sunland and they got the A.D.A. crawlin’ up their asses. Hell I got the A.D.A. crawlin’ up my ass! Just grab some Red Bull and get in the car.” With that, he hung up on her.

“Again, I say you suck!” She yelled into the phone despite the fact he wasn’t there anymore.

“What’s the matter, Miss Lou?” Marta came running in to her room, concerned about the yelling.

“I gotta go back to work.” Lou’s posture slumped like that petulant child Vinny had anticipated. “Can you grab me a few Red Bulls for the road while I get clean clothes on so I can get all crapped up again? Please?”

Marta laughed. “Right away. I’ll save dinner for you too.”

“Thank you, Marta.” Lou dragged herself into the closet. “I love you Marta!” She yelled as she pulled her T-shirt off and reached for a sweatshirt. In the distance she could hear Marta yelling back she loved her too. It made her smile. After sunset palos Verdes would be chilly to down-right cold so after she pulled on a fresh pair of jeans she grabbed some extra layers. Marta returned with an insulated bag stuffed with Red Bulls and a banana just as Lou finished washing her face. “Thank you again, Marta. I do love you, ya know?”

Marta pinched Lou’s cheek and grinned. “I know and I love you too! Now be safe!”

Lou made it down to the driveway as Dillon’s SUV was coming to a stop. “This sucks!” She yelled and whined at the same time.

“Shut your face and get in.” Dillon laughed at her. “We get four days off starting Friday so just shut it and let’s go.”

“That doesn’t count! That’s work too!” Lou climbed in and buckled up before grabbing the first energy drink of the evening. “Sanguinostri work is even harder!”

“It’s a meeting, Lou. In Vegas.” He shook his head and headed back down the drive. “What do you say to me all the time? Hmm? Suck it up, buttercup?”

“Piss off.” She hissed after downing half the can in one gulp.

“Niiiiiice.” He grinned. “Such a lady.”

“I’m a copper, not a lady.” Lou fought the grin threatening to spoil her tantrum. “I’m gonna take a nap until the Red Bull kicks in. Wake me up if we get there before it does.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The drive to
palos Verdes had been a nightmare. Rush hour traffic on the 405 Freeway forced them to exit at Sunset then use pacific Coast Highway the rest of the way. Lou was glad the days were longer so she could at least enjoy the view. The Terrenea Resort by all measures is a spectacular place. Built on the palos Verdes peninsula, property that was once home to Marine Land. Now, the one-hundred plus seaside acres boast 592 guest rooms and suites, including bungalows, casitas and villas, some privately owned. The coastal bluffs destination also plays home to a nine-hole, par 3 golf course, spa, and four pools, all within a California Coastal preserve. In other words, it’s a swanky joint.

For such an expensive venture, Terrenea seemed more classic old Hollywood elegant than big money resort to Lou. Even the cozy circular driveway punctuated by the classic Mediterranean fountain seemed more Golden Era Class. Oh, the place was big, there was no mistaking that. But it wasn’t showy or overdone, or cold modern like so many of the new boutique hotels that were cropping up all over the place. This felt real L.A. not Manhattan transplant.

Before Dillon could even bring his SUV to a stop, a very short, agitated young man tapped on his driver’s side window aggressively. Dillon and Lou looked at each other in puzzlement before Dillon rolled the window down.

“Good evening! Welcome to Terrenea! Are you going to be our guest this evening?” The overly attentive man asked them in a quiet and breathy tone.

“In a manner of speaking.” Dillon flashed his badge. “Detective Cole and Donovan. We’re here for the homicide.”

It was quite jarring how quick the smile vanished from the man’s face. “You can’t be here. Move!” His quiet manner was gone as well and he began to bark instructions with a distinctly Brooklyn accent. “Quick, quick! Go back and make a left. Park in any space marked for staff then head along the north side of the property.”

“Excuse me?” Dillon sat up straight in his seat.

“Come on man! We’ve got a big studio wrap party starting in like two minutes!” The twit explained. “Management wants this thing kept more than quiet. They’ll have my ass if I screw up! Please go, they’re waiting for you. You’ll see the black and whites. Please! You’re killin’ me here!”

“Nice, jackass.” Lou glared at the moron as she leaned over Dillon and stuck her head through the window. “I think the corpse sitting in one of your swanky set-ups would rather be in your shoes so maybe you wanna trade?”

The twit tossed his hands up and stomped back to the building, muttering something to himself.

“What a total dick!” Lou grunted as she sat back in her own seat.

“Welcome to L.A.” Was all Dillon could say as he followed the twit’s directions and headed back around.

As promised, there were three cruisers parked on the far northern end of the lot. Three deputies stood at the mouth of a pathway, one of them waving as if he knew Dillon’s SUV. Lou understood, once they got closer she recognized the rookie right away as a lifelong friend of her cousin, Liam.

“Good evening, Detectives.” the eager young officer saluted them.

“Oh, quit it Jimmy.” Lou grinned. “I’ve changed your diapers so we can dispense with the formalities.” The other deputies laughed but Jimmy was not embarrassed.

“You’re the boss, Lou. Hey Dillon.” Jimmy beamed. He should have been embarrassed by the diaper crack but instead his chest pumped up visibly. That Lou acknowledged him at all, let alone like he was old family, that was a big deal. Lou had a serious reputation and was respected among his ranks.

“How’s it going Jimmy?” Dillon had become friends with the rookie since he had taken Lou’s cousin under his wing. The man-boys had taken part in many all-night video game marathons. Liam and Jimmy had also helped Dillon paint his new house and move furniture.

“I wasn’t the first on scene.” Jimmy stuck to business. “My T.O. is up there now with the guys who were, but he made me stay here to flag you down.”

“You get a look at things?” Lou asked him.

“No, but Scott did.” Jimmy pointed to one of the other deputies standing at the path.

“I did, ma’am.” The stocky young deputy came to attention. “At least a little, before I got booted to secure the area.”

“We all gotta start some place.” Lou reassured him. “Now what can I expect?”

“A lot of brain matter, ma’am.” Scott had a gag reflex just recalling the scene. “Excuse me, ma’am.” He covered his mouth.

“Suck it up, Scott.” Lou remembered her first brain matter case and tried to be kind. “Just take a breath of this nice sea air and tell me what you saw. Think of it like it was a movie.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It was just everywhere, and I couldn’t see most of the body, just the feet.” Scott covered his mouth again.

“It’s all right. We’ll look for ourselves. Who’s escort?” Lou asked the three.

“Me!” Jimmy skipped ahead of them, making Dillon grin. Traversing the place was a hike when you were not allowed to go through the front doors. They walked around the perimeter, the long way, to the last bungalow. Two more deputies stood at the entrance to a private patio and they stepped aside when they saw Jimmy leading the detectives in.

“Thanks Jimmy.” Dillon shook his hand then pulled a wad of gloves out of his pocket.

“My pleasure!” He saluted them both then skipped off.

Lou and Dillon donned their gloves and covered their shoes with paper booties, Dillon set the box in front of the entrance for the others to use. It was a very high end joint, even with the cool and casual So. Cal. influences and the Mediterranean architecture. The ground floor bungalow was a warm swirl of butters and caramels with all the luxuries you would expect from a fifteen-hundred dollar a night establishment. Sadly, it was going to take a lot more than a good cleaning crew to get the place back to business after this. Sprawled out on the floor of the kitchen, in front of the opened refrigerator was their victim. He was about six-feet, maybe two-hundred pounds and change. He was dressed in what appeared to be one of the resort’s robes which, once upon a time, was a crisp white. It wasn’t fair to say that he was lying face down because he no longer had a face, or a head for that matter. Nine of his ten pints of blood were now pooled outward a good four feet around the body, dammed up against the baseboards of the kitchen island and back cabinets. There was cast off blood all over the ceiling along with small bits of what Lou was sure would turn out to be brain matter. It was everywhere, except inside the refrigerator. The door had been opened after the bludgeoning.

“That’s gonna screw with time of death.” Lou made the statement as an observation, not a joke. “Any idea when the coroner will be here?”

“They said another hour.” One of the other deputies spoke. “I kept non-essential personal at a good distance. Not sure how far to set a perimeter though and management is having a fit.”

“I’ll handle management.” Dillon didn’t even give Lou a second to think about it.

“Get the name of that asshat that gave us the bum’s rush out front.” Lou requested as Dillon headed for the back patio. Lou could see the manager ranting on his cell phone through the glass door.

“Do we know who we have here?” Lou asked as she checked the deputy’s name tag. “Russell, is it?”

“That’s right, Russell, ma’am.” The deputy reached around the corner and pulled an evidence bag from the credenza, inside was an open wallet. “I found this on top of the suitcase in the bedroom. Based on my approximation of the victim’s height and weight, I am pretty sure it’s his. Name on the Driver’s License is Gerald Griffen. He has a few business cards with the same name for LMT Talent Management in Studio City.”

Gerald Griffen had been the unlucky recipient of what appeared to be a good old fashioned bashing in of the brains. A bloody chunk of wood laying several feet away appeared to be the tool for the job. It looked to Lou like a fence post, unfinished, fairly new aside from the blood and tissue caked on the end, but most important it was innocuous. Readily available at any hardware store on the planet and used on at least a million fences from here to Oregon. It could only have been more generic if it were a two-by-four.

“Doesn’t this place have maid service or housekeeping?” Lou asked.

“That’s who found him, ma’am.” Russell continued “He was supposed to have checked out this morning. He checked in on Friday morning and requested no one, not even housekeeping disturb him through the weekend. The computer charged his bill automatically at 5 p.m. and flagged it for service. The maid called nine-one-one herself, otherwise I don’t know if this management yahoo would have called it in until after their big shindig tonight.”

“What the hell is going on?” Lou asked as she looked out to see how Dillon was doing with the manager.

“Some wrap party for some big production.” Russell shook his head. “They won’t even tell me what or who, but someone shelled out a lot of cash because half the crew is supposed to be staying in these bungalows. That’s why Mr. Fancy-pants out there is freaking out.”