Hollywood Lust (17 page)

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Authors: M. Z. Kelly

BOOK: Hollywood Lust
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I blinked, feeling the weight of everything that had transpired over the years. “What can you tell me about what happened?”

“I just remember your dad talking about working security for the studios. He said there was a lot of bad stuff going on there. I wasn’t sure what that meant until Jean Winslow died. A few days later, your dad was killed. I think what your mom said in her letter was right; their murders were tied to one another. That’s all I know.”

I looked at Oz. “What about you? Is there anything you haven’t told me?”

He shook his head. “You now know everything we know.” His voice came down a notch. “We only wanted to protect you and not say anything that we couldn’t prove.”

My gaze moved between each of them. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t need to be protected. I can take care of myself.”

THIRTY-THREE

 

I spent most of the day with Alex and Leo trying to track down leads on Galen Marshall’s whereabouts without any success. After processing what Leo had said, I’d eventually calmed down. I knew both he and Oz had my best interests at heart. It had even occurred to me that if I eventually uncovered enough evidence, the deaths of both Jean Winslow and my father could be reopened as cold cases. I also knew it would take a lot of investigative work on my part for that to happen.

Late in the day, at our request, Jason Quail came by the station. Alex had gone home early, so Leo and I met him in an interview room and asked him if the name Galen Marshall sounded familiar.”

Quail shook his head. “Not that I recall. Did he work at the studio?”

“He was a photographer,” I said. “He took the annual group photos. We think he might have had some kind of dispute with Reeder.”

“If that was the case, Bruce never mentioned him.” His gaze drifted off. After a moment, he looked back at me. “Do you think he and Bruce could have been involved?”

“From what we know, Marshall was straight, so I doubt it.”

The lines on his heavy forehead deepened. “You said this Marshall guy was a photographer?”

“He was a contract employee for Sunset Photography.”

“Sunset?”

I nodded, realizing he’d made some kind of connection. “What is it?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but I remember Bruce saying something about knowing somebody who worked there.”

“Any idea who he was talking about?”

He shook his head and his eyes lost focus.

“What aren’t you telling us?” Leo asked.

“It…maybe I’m wrong about this, but…I remember seeing a card on Bruce’s dresser for Sunset Studios. I didn’t think anything about it at the time, but now I wonder if he might have been seeing someone who worked there.”

It was after four by the time we finished up with Quail. We made a couple of calls to Sunset Photography that went to voice mail. After making plans to go by there in the morning, Bernie and I headed home.

When we got home, I spent a couple of hours tidying up my apartment and getting ready for my date with Noah. Since we weren’t going out, I settled on a short-sleeved red dress that I’d bought several months ago at Kohl’s. I then did what I could with my hair, before surrendering to the follicle circus that Judie Crawford and my bio-dad, whoever he was, had bequeathed to me.

I then had a moment of panic when I went into the kitchen. I had no idea what Noah planned to fix for dinner but I realized there wasn’t much to work with. That’s when I heard voices outside my front door and my moment of panic turned to terror. I realized that Natalie and Mo had cornered Noah as he’d walked to my apartment. There was no telling what they’d already told him about me.

I opened the door, doing my best to sound casual, as I called over to them. Noah smiled at me and raised his brows as Natalie ignored me, saying something to him about my family. I realized that I had no choice but to go over and try to somehow extricate Noah from their clutches.

“We got us some big news,” Mo said, finally acknowledging me.

“We’ve already solved the caper of the century,” Natalie agreed, after turning to me. She sounded like a schoolgirl who had just been asked to her first prom.

I looked at Noah and shook my head. “I see that you’ve already met.”

He smiled. “And been given some of your family history.”

I looked at my friends. “Remember our conversation about keeping what I said confidential?”

Natalie answered. “We’re just talking to your boyfriend. Maybe you aren’t doing the dirty squirt yet, but we just assumed he already knows ’bout your mixed-up family.”

My cheeks turned the color of my dress. I sighed. “Come on over. Let’s just get this over with.” I turned to Noah. “Sorry.”

They all followed me into my apartment. Natalie and Mo went into the living room, along with Bernie, who began receiving his share of attention from my blonde friend. I helped Noah with a couple of bags of groceries he’d brought, at the same time whispering my apologies for him being cornered by the ninja sisters. He smiled and said it wasn’t a problem. We then joined the others in the living room.

“He’s 'bout as cute as they make ’em,” Natalie said, referencing Noah. She looked at him. “Kate’s a bit outta practice, so you’re gonna have to take it slow with her.”

“Really?” I said, my eyes narrowing on her.

Mo tried to smooth over what she’d said but failed. “Baby sis just means that Kate’s been saving somethin’ special for you.”

“Like her cherr…”

“Enough.”

I huffed out a breath and saw that Noah was grinning from ear to ear. I said to him, “I guess I should explain a couple of things before we hear what my friends have to say.” I then took a few minutes, telling him about having read my mother’s latest letter and what she’d said about my love-dad being murdered to cover up the death of Jean Winslow.

I then turned back to Natalie and Mo. “Okay, out with it. Let’s hear what’s on your minds—about my family, I mean.”

Mo began by telling us about a documentary she and Natalie had watched. “It’s called
Hollywood Blues.
It tells the story of Jean Winslow’s life and how she supposedly died of a drug overdose by her swimming pool.”

“It’s a bunch of grot, if you ask me,” Natalie said. “Mo and me know who whacked both Jean and your love daddy.”

I glanced at Noah and rolled my eyes. I looked back at her. “Who is that?”

Natalie lowered her voice like a child who had just discovered the identity of the boogeyman hiding in the closet. “Donald Regis.”

“Who?”

“He was the head of Wallace Studios back in the day,” Mo said like I was a clueless ninny. “Jean Winslow was under exclusive contract with the studio, but, from what the documentary said, she wasn’t happy about it and wanted out.”

“And back then Georgie boy was like Bernie, only with two peckers,” Natalie added. “Mo and me think he was bangin’ the Barbie and wouldn’t let her outta her contract. When she’d had enough and said she was through, he whacked her and made it look like she’d taken a long nap.”

I thought about what they’d speculated, at the same time remembering that my adoptive mom had said that my love-dad had worked at Wallace Studios at one time doing part-time security work. There was also the matter of Donald Regis. His name had finally struck home with me. Regis had been a legendary Hollywood producer, using his considerable wealth and power to influence the studios and the stars. I remembered my mom also mentioning that my dad had said Collin Russell had connections to the stars and power brokers of old Hollywood at one time. It made me wonder what Russell knew about Regis. I then had another thought: did Ryan Cooper also have connections to Donald Regis? Was he the one who had Cooper murder my love-dad to cover up Winslow’s death?

Noah interrupted my thoughts, asking my friends, “Do you know if this Regis fellow is still alive?”

“He lives on one of them big fancy estates over in the 90210 zip code,” Mo said. “Baby sis and me think we should pay him a little visit.”

“I googled his address,” Natalie said. “He lives right up the street from Dr. Phil. Maybe Mo and me will get a two for one, stop by and ask Dr. P. how to deal with Nana, before we collar Georgie boy for a couple of murders.”

“Wait…no…” I shook my head. “This all needs more work.” I looked at Natalie. “And what’s going on with Nana?” I took a moment and explained about her to Noah.

“Her part in our show has gone straight to her head,” Mo said. “She wants her own dressing room and is even hitting on our director. She also wants a part in the magazine shoot we’re working on.”

“You ask me, she’s OD’ing on that love-drug she’s been taking,” Natalie added.

It didn’t surprise me that Nana was creating havoc on their show. I tried to refocus the conversation, telling my friends, “Back to your theory about Jean Winslow’s murder. I want you to promise me that you won’t do any more investigating until I look into things. I need time to process what you’ve learned.

The lines on Mo’s big forehead, which tonight sat below an orange wig, grew deeper. “You take more time to process stuff than anyone I ever seen.”

Natalie looked at Noah. “Kate’s a bit constipated when it comes to a lot of stuff.”

For the third time in the past ten minutes, I blushed, at the same time trying to suppress a groan, but was unsuccessful. I wondered if the evening could get any worse.

I stood up. “Okay, I appreciate you stopping by and filling us in on everything.”

It took a moment, but my friends finally got the message and also stood.

“I guess Kate wants some time alone with her doggy doctor,” Mo said to Natalie, moving slowly toward the door.

Natalie turned to Noah. “If things heat up and Kate starts yelping like a dog in heat, you might wanna put a pillow over her head. Mo and me had a long day and need our rest.”

My mouth fell open, but I didn’t know what to say. I physically pulled her and Mo over to the front door, pushed them outside, and said, “See you both tomorrow.”

As I closed the door, Natalie was saying something about me spending the night on all fours and wagging my tail.

I turned back to Noah. I was mortified and just shook my head. “I have no idea what to even say.”

He came over and held me for a moment. “It’s okay. I can tell they’re like family, really close to you. It reminds me of the way my sister sometimes embarrasses me.”

I sighed. “You have no idea what I have to put up with.” I went over to the kitchen and got a bottle of wine from the fridge. “I think I need a drink.”

I poured the wine as Noah began working on a pasta salad and told me about his culinary background. “I became friends with a guy in the military who was a chef in civilian life. He shared a couple of recipes with me and I’ve added a few touches of my own.”

I leaned against the counter as he worked. “I’m impressed. My culinary skills usually involve a microwave and…” Inspiration struck. “Have you ever heard of something called Fugs?”

He smiled, his blond brows inching closer. “Don’t tell me they’re your other friends who live nearby.”

I laughed and opened the fridge. “They’re a cheesy carb-bomb that are…the bomb.” I pulled out a bag of the delights, opened it, and popped one into Noah’s mouth. I waited as he took a moment, making up his mind. “Well?”

“They’re actually…really good.”

I popped one into my own mouth. “I had a girlfriend in college who told me about them. I have a feeling she probably weighs about three-hundred pounds now.”

He lowered his eyes, taking in my figure. “I’m glad they haven’t had the same effect on you.”

We spent the next hour eating Noah’s delicious salad and sharing the bottle of wine. The food, the wine, and the conversation eventually helped me forget my earlier embarrassment. Noah had an easy away about himself, accepting things as they came along. It made me feel like I could share almost anything with him. As the evening wore on we began to share more than just the food and the wine. We kissed passionately, enjoying the pleasure and increasing intimacy of being with one another. Things had begun to really heat up when Noah unexpectedly pulled away. He went over and poured us some more wine.

“Is everything okay?” I asked when he came back over with the glasses.

He handed me a glass and then met my eyes. “I like you, Kate…I feel like we’re developing a lot of feelings for one another.” He raised his brows.

“I feel the same way. This feels really…” I brushed the hair off my forehead. “It’s very special.”

He nodded and then looked away for a moment. “This is a little awkward.”

I touched his arm. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything.”

“It’s just that…when…if we take things further at some point…I don’t want there to be any surprises.” He looked down at his leg.

“Oh…I think I understand what you mean.” I took a breath. “If you want to show me…I’m ready.”

He reached over and kissed me. When we parted, he smiled and said, “Here goes.”

Noah reached down and lifted up his pant leg. A moment later, he removed his artificial limb. I saw that his leg had been amputated just below the knee. For some reason, the impact of what I was seeing brought tears to my eyes.

I reached down and touched his leg. “Thank-you. I appreciate…everything…” My tears came harder.

He lifted my chin up and said, “Thank-you for understanding.”

The kiss that followed loosened something inside of me that had been closed down for a long time. It was as though I’d been asleep for years and this man, this true-life hero, had suddenly come into my life and reawakened me. I was so grateful for what he’d done that it felt like all my emotions were on overload.

Bernie, who had been sleeping peacefully in the corner, came over and nudged me. When Noah and I parted, I said, “Sorry, he has a bit of a jealous streak sometimes.”

Noah took a moment, nuzzling Bernie, and saying to him, “It’s okay, boy. We can share her.”

I took a moment to sip my wine, as Bernie trotted off again and Noah took the opportunity to replace his artificial limb.

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