Hollywood Notorious: A Hollywood Alphabet Thriller Series (A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Book 14) (15 page)

“Officer Brown and I will be staying with Mr. Macy for the night,” Dr. Ellen Moore said to the Halgen nurse. She and Joshua Brown were in the corridor of the pharmaceutical company outside her patient’s room after the drug Neustasis had been administered to him. “We’ll monitor his medical condition.”

“That goes against our regulations and the drug protocols.”

Brown stepped forward. “Mr. Macy is still a patient of Berkshire State Hospital. Any medical decisions are made by Dr. Moore, not Halgen.”

The nurse lowered her eyes and shook her head. “Alright, but I’ll need to report this to my superiors. I have a feeling it’s going to remove your patient from any further drug trials.”

“Do what you have to,” Ellen said. She held out her hand. “I’ll need the key to his room.”

As she took the electronic key and unlocked Quinton Macy’s room, Ellen could barely control the tremor in her hands. She knew that Quinton Macy was insane and she was convinced he would make good on his threats to kill her children if she didn’t cooperate.

The door closed behind her and Brown, and they walked over to her patient, who was sitting on his bed, staring at them.

“I assume everything is in order,” Macy said to Brown.

The security guard was carrying a duffle bag and set it on the bed. He glanced back at Ellen. “She did as she was told. The Halgen staff have been relieved.”

Her patient’s glowing yellow eyes fixed on her. “Very good.” Macy held his wrists out, allowing Brown to work on removing the chains that held him prisoner. “You might like to know, Ellen, that the drug they administered seems to have had no lingering effects.” He laughed. “I’m elated to report that my delusional madness is still intact.”

Ellen felt her anxiety rising with each passing second. Despite her apprehension, she found herself saying, “What are you planning to do?”

Her patient was free now. He stood and walked over to her, stopping less than a foot away. A shudder of fear rippled down Ellen’s spine. Having Macy this close roiled her stomach.

“Do you recall our earlier conversation about time?” Ellen swallowed and nodded. “I’m going to make a mark, Ellen. A moment in time that won’t soon be forgotten.”

He turned to the guard, accepting the clothing that he’d brought. While Macy dressed, Ellen realized Joshua Brown was watching her. She shifted her body, purposely not looking at him.

“We could have had something special,” Brown said to her.

Ellen kept her eyes averted and didn’t respond.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

She glanced at him, then looked away.

“Your husband.” He chuckled. “Maybe I’ll do you a favor when everything’s over. End your problem.”

“Please, leave my family out of this.”

Macy was dressed now, wearing street clothes and a ball cap. “Not to worry, Ellen. If nothing else, we are men who make good on our promises.”

The two men began moving toward the door, but Macy stopped and looked back at her. “Please be sure no one enters this room until morning. After that, you will tell the Halgen employees that I’ve been removed from their drug program and taken back to the hospital at the direction of your superiors.” He took a step closer to her. Ellen found herself instinctively moving away from him as he smiled, adding, “I’m finished with you, for now, Ellen.”

They were at the door when Joshua said to her, “You might want to turn on your television tomorrow.”

“Why is that?” she asked.

“So you can see how we spent our evening.”

“I spent part of my childhood in Bolivia and travelled extensively throughout South America,” Dr. Rosalind Castillo said. “It’s given me a unique perspective on other cultures and traditions.” She smiled. “With age and experience, there’s sometimes also a little wisdom sprinkled in.”

We were at a restaurant in Westwood called Matteo’s, a few blocks from the university. The place had a subdued cozy atmosphere that invited conversation.

“I understand that you worked for the FBI as a profiler at one time,” I said.

Rose, as she asked me to call her, swirled the wine in her glass. “It’s been over a decade since I retired. I can’t say that I miss the Agency.”

“Did you ever cross paths with an agent named Joe Dawson?”

She laughed. “You know Joe?”

I nodded. “We worked together on a couple of cases. It took some time, but we’ve become good friends.”

“Joe is…” She released a breath and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “He’s hard-headed, egotistical, difficult, and controlling. He’s also one of the best agents I’ve ever worked with.”

“That describes him perfectly,” I agreed.

As we ate, we shared war stories, Rose telling me about some of the cases she’d worked, and me sharing the details about a killer Joe Dawson and I had caught called The Artist. The conversation then turned personal as I mentioned my sister, and her being taken in by The Swarm.

“I’m worried sick about her,” I said. “One of the profilers I worked with described the group as radicalized killers who will stop at nothing.”

Rose fixed her dark eyes on me. “I’ve done a little research on the group. I’m afraid they’re a symptom of a society that has allowed those who see themselves as outsiders to bond. It’s a pathos, a shared form of insanity that is beyond reason. I hope your sister can find a way to keep that part of herself that is civilized and sane intact until you find her.”

I nodded, at the same time saying a silent prayer for Lindsay. I then moved the discussion in a different direction, taking a few minutes to tell her about my love-dad, how he was murdered by Ryan Cooper, and telling her that Cooper might have been working for someone who was involved in the Revelation. I explained my dad’s and Cooper’s connection to the studios and to the actress Jean Winslow. I finished by telling her about some letters my bio-mom had written to me. Those letters outlined her suspicion that both the deaths of my love-dad and Jean Winslow were orchestrated by someone involved in the group.

I then said, “My mother gave her letters to a man named Collin Russell. He is Kellen Malone’s father and told me that he believes his son has been involved in the Revelation for years.”

“Collin Russell.” Rose Castillo had said the name as she’d exhaled and her gaze had drifted off. “It’s been many years since I’ve heard that name.”

“What can you tell me about him?”

“As I mentioned when we spoke before, the Revelation splintered and fell apart when Harlan Ryland formed the Tauist Society. At that time, Ryland’s closest associate was Collin Russell.”

I was shocked by what she’d said. “Russell made it sound like those who were involved in the Revelation were dangerous and controlling. He also told me that those involved murdered his lover several years ago.”

“I can’t speak definitively about what did or didn’t happen to anyone who was connected to Russell. All I can tell you is that Russell worked behind the scenes after he and Ryland split off from the Revelation. He got the backing of several wealthy donors who supported Ryland in his religious zeal. One of the tenets of their beliefs is that when a member dies, he or she is expected to leave their entire estate to the Tauists. It’s helped both Russell and Ryland build a financial empire that is sheltered from taxes because of the group’s religious orientation.”

What she’d said triggered a memory. A few months back, my mother had planned to give her house to the Tauists before Robin and I had intervened and she came to her senses. I again wondered what she knew about the group and its connection to my love-dad’s murder.

I sipped my wine, then said, “Based on everything you’ve told me, it sounds like Collin Russell lied to me.”

She nodded. “I would say that’s likely.”

“And Russell’s son, Kellen Malone?”

“As I mentioned before, I’ve never heard of him. If he’s involved with Ryland and the Tauists he’s way off the radar. It might be that he worked for his father and Ryland behind the scenes and had some sort of falling out with them.”

I remembered Jean Winslow’s niece, who still lived in the deceased actress’s estate, telling me that she’d met Malone when she was a girl. While that meeting had occurred decades earlier, she described him as having been a nice man. It again made me think that everything Collin Russell had said to me was a lie.

I again went over the facts surrounding my love-dad’s death with Rose, telling her that Cooper had committed the act, but that he’d probably been working for someone else at the time. I then told her about the photograph I’d found at Winslow’s estate. “It’s my belief that Cooper was also involved in the death of Jean Winslow. He could have been working for Donald Regis, who was the head of Wallace Studios as the time, or even Ryland.”

She took a moment before responding, maybe trying to sort through the pieces of the puzzle I’d laid out. “The rumors of there being a conspiracy around the death of Winslow have been circulating for years. What you’ve told me only confirms those suspicions.”

I took a breath and decided to ask her the question I’d come here wanting an answer to. “There was a man in the photograph with my dad and Winslow. His name is Ozzie Powell. He works for the police department. Does his name sound familiar?”

“There have been rumors about the Tauists and Ryland getting protection from those in authority for years, but I can’t say that I’ve heard the name before.”

I released a breath, feeling frustrated. I realized that, at some point, I was going to have to talk to Oz if I wanted answers. “I’m beginning to feel like I’ll never get an answer to my questions about what really happened behind the death of my dad.”

“I believe that if you’re ever going to get to the bottom of what happened, the answers are going to have to come from Harlan Ryland himself.”

As we settled the bill, I thought about what she’d said. The head of the Tauist Society was a recluse, who hadn’t been seen in public for years. He supposedly lived in a secluded estate on the Tauist compound, surrounded by security. I had no idea how I would even find him, let alone talk to him.

We walked to our cars and I mentioned that we had no leads on the murder of Sylvia Lacroix. “As you’ve probably seen on television, the press is providing non-stop coverage of the case.”

“I’ve seen the reports,” she said as we stopped near our cars. “They’ve stirred up a lot of public hysteria.”

“Do you still think whoever committed the crime isn’t finished?”

Dr. Rose Castillo’s opaque eyes fixed on me. “Your killer is feeding off the fear. His actions are compulsive and he lacks any conventional sense of right and wrong. If the opportunity presents itself, he will kill again.”

I got home a little after nine and found my friends on their porch, along with Carly Hogg, the co-star on their TV show,
Hollywood Girlz
. They were with Natalie’s boyfriend, Izzy Cluck, and I realized they were all drunk and loud. I went over to tell them to keep things down because of our elderly neighbors.

“Why don’t you join us,” Natalie said, lowering her voice. “I made us a batch of Bloody Bombs.”

As if on cue, Izzy used a slingshot and launched one of her
bombs
toward Carly’s mouth. It missed its target, hitting Carly on the forehead and leaving a gooey red mess.

Carly, a big woman with an even bigger mouth, was unfazed. She wiped her face and took another shot, this time connecting with the frozen drink and swallowing it in one gulp.

“Your turn,” Izzy said, aiming the slingshot at me after I sat down.

I flinched and turned away. “No, thanks. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

“Kate’s gotta be sober so she can catch the Reaper,” Mo said. My heavyset friend had on a curly purple wig. “By the way, your hair looks good. What’d Robin do?”

“I think she had a hair transplant,” Carly said, laughing.

I was happy with my new soft, manageable hair and ignored her drunken comment. “It’s something called a Ruby Treatment.”

Natalie also complimented me, then added, “Speakin’ of your killer, we got us a lead.”

Carly demonstrated the bombs were having their intended effect by slurring her words. “Maybe the Rrreap…er lives right here in one of the m…mobile homes. He could be the w…world’s oldest killer.”

“I doubt it,” Mo said. Her dark eyes fixed on me. “From what I heard on the streets, the guy that did it has been sayin’ he’s got a partner. You’re lookin’ for two killers.”

Mo still had a lot of contacts from when she worked the streets. If what she’d said was true, it put a whole new spin on our case. “What else have you heard?”

“Just that the guy also said he’s some kinda cop.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Maybe it’s…ss…somebody you work with,” Carly said. She was now downing shots off a plate, instead of taking them through the air.

“Don’t know ‘bout that,” Mo said. “But it could be somebody who’s used his badge over the years to gain the confidence of his victims.”

“You make it sound like there’s been multiple victims,” I said.

“From what I heard, the guy’s been at work in other places. If I was you, I’d see if there’s somethin’ similar that happened in other states.

“We’ve already done that.”

“I think we should practice having you c…cut off my head.” I saw that Carly was directing her comments to Izzy.

Natalie explained for my benefit. “Carly’s agreed to let Izzy use his guillotine and whack off her head for the grand opening of his magic shop. It’s gonna be the same night as Nana’s Mardi Gras party.”

“And, don’t forget, you’re invited,” Mo said to me.

Carly said, “I ww…wonder if my h…head rolls across the floor, I’ll be able to l…look back and see my body.” She then fell off her chair and laughed. “It’s one way to lose a couple of pounds.”

Izzy came over and helped her up. “I think I’d better drive her home.”

Carly downed two more shots before she agreed to what Natalie’s boyfriend had suggested. After they were gone, we talked about my case for a couple of minutes longer. I didn’t get anything more, but what Mo had said seemed credible. I planned to tell Leo and the others about it, but then remembered that Chief East’s news conference was scheduled for tomorrow morning and we were all expected to be there.

Natalie then changed the subject. “I went by and checked on our lawyer. He’s feelin’ better.”

“Mommy’s got him tucked in bed and is feeding him chicken soup,” Mo agreed.

I sighed. “I don’t know how he’s going to ever deal with Mean Gene and Judge Rita.”

“Izzy and me got a plan,” Natalie said. “He’s gonna hypnotize Krump, give ‘im a boatload of self-confidence.”

Mo shook her head, obviously not convinced. “I think you’re gonna also have to take the mama’s boy’s doll away, baby sis, and get him some new clothes.”

Natalie assured us that Krump would be a new man when she and Izzy got through with him. She then asked me about my dinner with Dr. Castillo that I’d previously mentioned to them.

“It was an interesting conversation. She told me that Harlan Ryland was one of the original founders of the Revelation. Several years ago he broke away from the group and formed the Tauist Society, along with Collin Russell.”

“Russell?” Mo’s usually sonorous voice had pitched higher. “You mean that asshole was lying to you?”

“So it would seem. Dr. Castillo didn’t know if his son, Kellen, has been involved, but it now seems likely that Russell was lying about everything.”

“What about your bio-mum’s letters?” Natalie asked. “Do you think those were for real?”

“I’ve thought a lot about it. I think she did write the letters. Russell had probably read them before giving them to me, and didn’t think there was anything in them that would tie him to either the Revelation or the Tauists.”

“You need to confront the lying son of a bitch,” Mo said. “Me and baby sis can go with you.”

I remembered that the last time I’d talked to Russell he’d held a gun on me, but had a change of heart at the last minute. He was dangerous and unpredictable. “I’m not sure what to do, but I’m also going to need to talk to Ryland at some point.”

“I heard that guy’s a ghost. Never leaves his house.”

“That grotbag musta been behind the murder of Jean Winslow and your love-daddy,” Natalie said. “We need to drag his ass outta his house and let him have it.”

“Easier said than done,” I said as my phone chirped. I saw the call was from Noah. I made my excuses to my friends and said goodnight.

I walked Bernie along the road as I answered the call. “I’m sorry about not returning your calls earlier. It’s been a long day.”

Noah’s voice was subdued. “I’m the one who’s sorry…about the way I handled everything last night. I think we need to talk.”

I exhaled. “I agree. Maybe we could have dinner tomorrow night.”

“Do you want to come by my place?”

I remembered his earlier offer about getting together at Musso and Frank’s and decided neutral territory was better. I suggested meeting at the restaurant, adding, “I could meet you there at seven, if that works for you.”

He agreed to dinner, said he loved me, and I ended the call. I hadn’t returned the sentiment and felt guilty and conflicted, now unsure how I felt about him.

Even as I lay in bed later that night, my relationship issues were still haunting me. I’d been in a brief, disastrous marriage that had ended when my ex cheated on me. After that, I’d been involved with a former cop named Jack Bautista, who had been killed by Ryan Cooper when he’d stalked me. I’d eventually rebounded, dating a PI and then Buck McCade, both of those relationships not ending well. And, just when I’d given up on ever finding the right relationship, Noah had come along.

Despite only dating for a few weeks, we’d quickly fallen in love, spending a glorious week together in Maui. Now I wondered if it had all happened
too
quickly. It was obvious to me that Noah and I still had a lot to learn about one another. And, if he couldn’t accept the fact that I was dedicated to finding who had ordered the death of my love-dad, I knew our relationship wouldn’t last.

I was still wrestling with that possibility when my phone rang. It was after midnight when I answered the call and heard Leo’s voice.

“There’s been another murder up in the hills.”

I brushed the hair out of my eyes. “Do you know any of the details?”

“Just what the responding officers told dispatch: the body is on fire.”