Dial Emmy for Murder (26 page)

So Nate had a twin who killed himself because he couldn’t make it as an actor? More likely he took his life because of a weakness of character, but I didn’t try that suggestion on his grieving mother. I didn’t think she would have appreciated my point of view. And the hanging thing. That was why she was killing actors by hanging or strangling them.

I looked around and noticed two things. One: she was in charge and her son was obviously completely subservient to her. And two: neither one was holding a gun. In fact, I didn’t see a weapon anywhere, but I knew that could change in an instant.

“I assume you called Detective Jakes,” she said, “so he’s probably on his way here. We’ll see how quickly we can complete our business. We
are
in the middle of nowhere. It’ll take him a while.”

I didn’t want to let on that it was just me there. No Jakes.

“Is this the same business you didn’t finish that night on PCH, Adrienne? When you tried to run me off the road?” I asked, my throat dry. I was glad my voice hadn’t cracked.

She looked at me blankly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie, Adrienne. You tried to kill me. Or rather, Nate did.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Don’t try to confuse me! You’re so clever, aren’t you? With your words. Your disguises! But you’re not so smart. See, I knew you looked familiar when you and Detective Jakes came to talk to me, but it wasn’t until I read in the paper that you were going to be at the Academy tonight that it clicked in my head. The article mentioned how you were playing twins on your show, wearing makeup to alter your appearance. That’s when I put it together. And that’s when I decided that tonight was the night to get you out of the way.”

“Out of the way?” I asked.

“You’re in the way of what we’re doing for Nick.”

“Which is?”

“Removing the competition.”

“Nick’s dead, Adrienne,” I reminded her. “How does killing actors do anything for him now?”

“For his memory!” she shouted. “This is all for him.”

“What about Nate?” I asked. “He’s still alive. What about his career? He’s still auditioning, isn’t he?”

“Auditioning.” She spat the word out. “Nate is a joke. He never had Nick’s talent.”

I looked at Nate, but he was staring at the floor, miserable. Then he shouted at her, “Nick never got a good part either, Mom!”

“Shut up! He would have! He needed to keep working at it. It would have happened for him in time!”

I understood. Nick was her pet, her favorite. Nate was the afterthought, the second fiddle. Maybe I could use this little chink in their armor to my advantage.

I looked over. Poor Connie. She had duct tape over her mouth, and her eyes were wide with fright.

If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought the pair just seemed like a sad mother-and-son act. Adrienne looked like an old worn-out housewife, dressed for spring cleaning. Nate, slender and unimposing, looked like a kid who wished he were somewhere else.

But they had already killed four or five young men? I’d lost count. Had they killed Henri? And they were probably planning the same for Connie and me.

Why was I not more frightened? I wondered. Stalling, I said, “Adrienne, I don’t know why you took Connie. She has nothing to do with this!”

“I knew you’d follow her. Your faithful manager. Ha! She’s your lapdog!” she scoffed. Connie took offense to that and was harrumphing under her taped mouth. “I know how you industry people are. You think you’re so much more important than anyone else. So special. So fabulous. You both need to be taught a lesson. A lesson in humility.”

I looked around for something to use as a weapon as Adrienne continued with her tirade. I could see childhood things in the unit: toys, games. It seemed she had kept everything Nick ever owned. And then, off to one side, I saw a hockey stick leaning against a box.

“What was it about Nick?” I asked, trying to keep her occupied. I pointed to a photo taped to the metal wall of the unit. “What was different about him? Was he better looking than Nate?”

“I always knew he was,” Adrienne said. “They were identical twins, but I could see a difference.” She was staring at the photos of Nick with a frenzied look in her eyes. “See the slight widow’s peak on Nick’s forehead? The cleft chin? Nate doesn’t have that. He’s more . . . average. Nick had movie-star good looks. He was destined for greatness. Ahhh!” She choked back tears. “And he was better. At everything. Better at sports, better at school and a superior actor. He could play anything. If he’d only had the chance.”

I looked at Nate. His head was down but his eyes were glaring at his mother with what? Stifled rage?

“You have quite a shrine here,” I said, moving toward the photos. And the hockey stick. I pointed to some of the photos on the wall. “How do you feel about this, Nate?”

Nate looked up, surprised that someone had spoken to him.

“What do you think of this shrine?”

Connie watched me. There was no way I could communicate anything to her with my eyes, but hopefully she knew I would try to do
something.
If I didn’t, we’d be dead.

The hockey stick was near Nate. I hoped it simply looked like I was approaching him and the photos. Adrienne was the biggest threat because she was in charge, but Nate was younger. He was the biggest physical threat to us. After all, he’d slugged Connie and tossed her into the vehicle.

I kept inching toward him.

I needed that hockey stick.

Chapter 62

“Nate loved his brother!” Adrienne said.

“I’ll bet he did, in the beginning,” I said. “But I know what kind of resentment can build up between siblings when one is favored. Right, Nate?”

Nate looked at me and then at his mother but quickly turned his eyes downward. I moved closer to him.

“He understands what we have to do. For Nick’s sake.”

It was quiet then. I didn’t know if I should make a move or what.

“No, Mom, I don’t understand.”

Adrienne’s head whipped around as if she had never heard this son speak before.

“What did you say?” she spat.

It seemed that Nate having a neutral witness gave him some backbone. “I’ve never understood. Why him and not me? Maybe if you had given me more attention, I could have been better at things, Mom. It was always Nick does this and Nick does that better. Nick . . . Nick . . . Nick!”

Connie was still watching me, breathing heavily through her nose, which, thankfully, had not been covered by the tape.

I still didn’t feel I could snatch up the hockey stick in one move. Closer . . .

Then something occurred to me. “So Nate, tell us why you kept that scrapbook of all the murders, along with notes about your mother.”

“Scrapbook?” Adrienne’s head snapped back to me. “What scrapbook?”

Nate tossed me a look of betrayal and his mother one of pure fear. He started to shake his head. Obviously when she had searched Henri’s apartment she hadn’t known what she was searching for. She must have just been looking to see if there was anything there that could have led to Nate.

“The one Jakes and I found in Henri Marceau’s apartment,” I said. “You remember Henri, Adrienne? The hairdresser you killed?”

“That sexual deviate?” she screamed, spittle flying from her mouth.

Just what I thought—a hot button.

“How did Henri end up with it, Nate?” I asked. “Were you and he good friends? Was he your lover?”

“Shut up, bitch!” Adrienne yelled at me. She’d stopped looking at Nate and was coming toward me.

“You should see it, Adrienne. Lots of pictures and special notes in red ink, all over the margins.
Mom did it
or
This was Mom’s fault
,” I said, thinking on my feet, egging her on.

“My fault?” Adrienne turned to Nate and screamed, “Anything good that you ever had,
I gave you
!”

“No, Mother! You took everything
away
from me, everything I loved!”

“You and that hairdresser? Nick never would have done anything that disgusting!” All of her attention was on Nate. Now that was all I needed.

I leaped for the hockey stick, wrapped both hands around it and swung. I wanted to hit Adrienne, but Nate was the closest and most logical target. I felt the impact to his head, and a pain so horrible went running up from my hand all the way to my arm.

“Bitch!” Adrienne screamed.

I turned quickly, holding the stick ready, but she had dashed to the other wall, grabbed her purse and come out with a silver gun. Damn it! A hockey stick against a gun . . . and suddenly I was thinking about Sarah.

“No!” I shouted. I dropped the stick, but before I could move, Connie rolled over and bowled Adrienne’s feet out from under her. She fell heavily on top of Connie, the gun skittering across the floor toward me. Even before it stopped I slapped it with the hockey stick. A perfect shot! It went flying out the door into the night . . . right past Jakes!

He stood in the doorway of the unit, gun in hand, and then moved quickly, pulling Adrienne off Connie and yanking her to her feet.

Nate was on the floor, bleeding from the head.

I ran to Connie, rolled her over and pulled the tape from her mouth. “Are you all right?”

She spat and then yelled, “That crazy old bitch! I think she broke my arm!”

I looked at Jakes, who said to me flatly, “I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?”

Chapter 63

It was like a scene out of a movie—or a soap opera.

I was sitting on the back of an ambulance while an EMT bandaged my hand. He was pretty sure I had broken one or two fingers when I punched Randy. An X-ray would confirm it. I had spoken to the police and made sure Sarah was safe at home and asleep in her bed.

They had taken Adrienne away. Another EMT was bandaging Nate’s head before the police would take him away. I couldn’t see where Connie was, but she was being cared for, too.

Jakes came over to me and put his hand on my shoulder. The EMT walked away.

“How did you know where I was?” I asked, shaking. “I couldn’t call you because I lost my phone.” I think I was in shock.

“I finally located Randy just in time to follow him to the Academy. I saw him meet with you and then saw Connie get snatched. As you jumped into your Porsche to go and save the day, I had to decide to either get Randy or follow you. I chose you.” He turned me around to face him and put his arms around me.

“Thank God you did,” I said. “My hero cop.”

“Me? You’re the hero, tearing off after them like that, knocking your ex on his ass. Then following those two in here, arming yourself with a hockey stick. Against a gun.” He was saying all this while rubbing my back. He smelled like Obsession.

“Yeah, what was she doing with a gun?” I asked. “She’d never used one on a victim before.”

“Who knows? Maybe she was planning to use it on you.”

“If she’d been holding it the whole time, I never would have been able to grab that stick—”

“But she wasn’t. You saved the day, Alex,” he said again. “You’re quite a hero.”

I put my face up to his. We kissed and I melted into it. God, I wished we were somewhere else now—anywhere!

He held my face in his hands. “I was worried about you. Scared shitless, actually.”

“Really? I guess we worry about each other a lot. Don’t we?” I said matter-of-factly. “But I don’t think we have to worry about your captain. You’ve got me as a witness and Connie, too. She heard everything.”

“Connie’s on her way to the hospital to be checked out. I’ll interview her later.”

“Poor Connie! She was so afraid! I mean, so was I. Hearing Adrienne going on about her son. She’s nuts, you know? Completely insane!”

“Did Adrienne actually say she and Nate murdered our victims?” he asked.

“Yes, she did,” I said.

“So then your friend, Jackson, didn’t have a connection to Henri except as a coworker. It was Nate who got Henri killed.”

“Oh, God!” I said, suddenly.

“What?”

“Adrienne also said she had nothing to do with trying to run me off of PCH. After everything else she told me, I don’t know why she’d lie about that.”

“So that leaves Randy.” This seemed to disturb him.

“Wait a minute. If you followed me, who nabbed Randy?”

He hesitated before saying, “No one. I, uh, lost you as we got to this area, which is why I was a little late. I put everyone on you. When I saw this place, I decided to check it out, and when I saw your car I started checking units.”

“That means Randy’s still out there.” I didn’t like the way that sounded. Or the way it made me feel.

He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. “Don’t worry. You’ve got me.” He held me tightly in his arms. With all the craziness going on around us, our hugging made no sense at all. But I felt safe. I held on to him until every part of my body was touching every part of his.

“Looks like we’ve got each other.”

Turn the page
for a sneak peek at
the next Soap Opera Mystery
by Eileen Davidson,
coming soon from Obsidian.

“Honey, that girl is butt naked!”

“No, she’s not.”

“Alex! She’s naked and so is the girl next to her. Look right there.” He pointed to a particular area of her body.

I took a step closer, looking in the general direction of where his finger was pointing and trying to be as discreet as possible.

“
Eww!
Oh my God, George.” I gasped, turning away. “You’re so right! She is naked.” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. So I looked again, just to make sure. At first glance the girl looked like she was wearing a tuxedo, complete with black tie and tails. And the girl next to her appeared to be dressed like a mermaid. Sparkles and scales everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. But it was paint. Meticulously applied and not a detail missed.