The Michaela Bancroft Mysteries 1-3 (54 page)

Michaela didn't know what to say. The woman had
said she was bankrupt. "This is the first I've heard about it."

"I don't know. You may want to give her a
call and find out. She's a strange one."

"I'm aware. Thanks. Call me, okay?"

"Sure. Are you okay? You sound upset."

"No. I'm fine. Worried. That's all."

"Quit worrying. He's fine. Now, go rest or
take a ride, or do something to get rid of that anxiety."

"Right. Bye." She didn't divulge that
she was well over a hundred miles from home.

She sat back in the seat, traffic whizzing past
her, somewhat relieved to hear that Rocky was doing well. But she wouldn't feel
completely at ease until he was back home in his stall with a clean bill of
health. She also knew that she wouldn't truly be able to relax until Audrey's
killer was caught, which made her wonder about Kathleen.

What was it with Kathleen Bowen? How had she come
up with the cash to pay for Halliday's bills, and why hadn't she contacted her?
Michaela didn't bother trying to answer the question herself. She got back on
the road; what was a few more miles? She wanted to hear the answer straight
from the horse's mouth.

The sun had started to set, casting a rose-colored
haze across the sky, but she couldn't revel in the beauty of it, because the
traffic was migraine worthy. Her blood boiled by the time she made it back up
the PCH. She'd been cut off, flipped off, and nearly run off the road. There
was a reason she lived out in the middle of nowhere: It was called serenity.

A silver BMW Roadster stood parked outside
Kathleen's beach house. Michaela rapped hard on the front door. She was tired
of the games these people played, and she wanted some answers. Kathleen Bowen
came across as a victim in her bizarre world, but Michaela had her doubts.
Kathleen didn't come to the door; rather, Olivia opened it. Her nose was red
and running, her eyes bulging. She tried to slam the door when she saw who it
was, but Michaela pushed it open and walked inside. "Where's your
mother?"

"I don't know. She said that she was going
out of town for a few days. Why? What do you want?"

"What do you mean, she's out of town?"

"Duh. She's gone. Like I don't know where. Maybe
Italy, Paris. Beats me."

Michaela trembled inside. "You're high,
Olivia. You need some serious help."

"And you, babe, need to seriously mind your
own damn business," Steve Benz said as he appeared from another room.

Michaela crossed her arms. "Figures. You
know, your name keeps coming up in all the wrong places, and now you are
actually
in
the wrong place." She looked back at Olivia.
"Can't you see what this guy is? He's no megastar. He's a lowlife drug
dealer, and he's got you hooked. And if I were to bet on it, I would say that
your mom has been crying poor to you. You did the good daughter thing, and
agreed to sign with Marshall Friedman and pose with this creep here for
Callahan's magazine to help her out of debt. My guess is she's just come into
some cash, and that cash is yours. Now, I don't know if she's aware that you
are doing cocaine. She's likely stuck her head in the sand due to her
selfishness. But trust me, this scumbag and his no-good manager knew exactly
what they were up to; you sign with Friedman, and you do their bidding, and
they keep you high."

Olivia stared blankly at her. Was any of this
getting through?

"Hey babe, you're ruining a good time here. You
really are. Why don't you just leave?" Benz said.

Michaela ignored him. "Does Josh know this
guy is with you? Does he know about the drugs? Would he let you get back up on
a horse knowing you're stoned out of your mind? No, I don't think he would. I
believe he cares about you. What are you thinking, Olivia? You have dreams to
be a jockey. You can't do this to yourself. Come with me, okay? We'll find you
some help."

Olivia shook her head. "I think you better
go. Please."

"No. I'm not leaving."

Benz walked over and got in her face. "She
asked you to leave. You deaf, bitch?"

Michaela knew she shouldn't be messing with this
crazed, drugged-out rocker, but she also knew the right thing to do when it
came to Olivia—what Audrey would have wanted her to try and do. "Let me
tell you something, jerkoff, I've found out quite a bit about you and what you
do to make extra cash. Oh, and I also know who you visited at Shutters the
other day. Bridgette Bowen ring a bell? How about Frederick Callahan? Freddie
boy told me that you deliver party favors for friends in need. I'm sure that
Callahan wouldn't think twice, if it came down to causing him a problem or
ruining your career, as to what he might tell the media—or the police for that
matter. I wasn't the only one who witnessed your visit with Bridgette and
Callahan. Let's just say, you look good on camera."

"What the…"

"Right. Here's the deal. You're going to
leave now if you don't want those pictures to surface." Michaela knew she
was telling him something she had no control over. She was pretty sure that
Smith was at work offering the photos to the highest bidder in the tabloid
realm. "So, you go on your way, while Olivia and I stay here."
Michaela stood her ground. "Oh, and come to think of it, I've also heard
your name mentioned in regard to Audrey's murder." She was stretching that
one, too, and she knew it, but this asshole had it coming. She had not
forgotten though, what Olivia told her about the fact that Benz had gone to
retrieve beers while at the races, and the timing looked to coincide with
Audrey's murder. She knew she might push him over the edge with her comments,
but she needed to see his reaction. As far as Michaela figured, Benz might have
killed Audrey for his own needs—to boost his career by having Olivia away from
Audrey and under his manager's wings, which would mean a profit all the way
around—or he might have murdered Audrey at Friedman's behest. She still didn't
know where or how Francisco's death played into it, but right now she only
wanted to get Benz out of the house. She knew she was taking a huge risk, but
if he was a killer, she was prepared. She had her hand stuck down into her
purse, wrapped around the vial of mace Joe had given her earlier, and she'd use
it if need be.

"You are freaking psycho. I didn't kill
anyone, and what's the big deal? If people want to party once in a while, how
does that hurt you?" He looked at Olivia and shook a finger at her.
"This is your mother's fault if you don't succeed. I had nothing to do
with any of this. She's the one taking all your cash, babe. Call me when this
bitch leaves!" He grabbed his wallet off a side table and walked out,
slamming the front door.

Yep. Michaela was not making any friends in this
neck of the woods. She had to wonder what Benz's comments meant about Kathleen.
But before she could question what he'd said, she needed to try and help
Olivia.

She turned back to see Olivia still staring at
her. "Why are you doing this?" Olivia snapped. "Go away."

"Because you need help. And because Audrey
loved you and I loved her. These people are ruining you. They're taking away
your dreams. Are you going to allow your mother and her lackeys to control your
life? Is that what you want? You can ride, Olivia. You're good. I watched you
on the track, and you can do it, but not like this. Not wasted. I think we
should call your father."

Michaela didn't know if she trusted Hugh any
longer, but she believed that the man loved his daughter. That was a strange
thought, especially since she figured that he could also be a killer. This was
not good.

"No. I can't call my dad!" Olivia
started to cry. "I don't want him to know. He's already been through this
with Bridgette. I'm fine. I don't need help. Go away."

"You
do
need help. Do this for
Audrey." Olivia wiped her face. "You have a long life ahead of you.
Don't ruin it because you didn't follow your own dreams, or because someone
took advantage of you."

"I do have dreams," she sobbed.

"I know. Now get smart. You can get help for
this, and you'll be fine. You'll get better and then you can pursue your
dreams."

Olivia's lower lip trembled like a child. Damn
that Benz. "I don't know. I just don't know."

"Why don't we call Josh? Okay? I think he
would want to help. One phone call, okay? That's it. We only have to start there."

Olivia didn't respond for a while; finally, she
nodded. Michaela took her over to the couch and sat down with her. "This
will be good. You'll see. You're strong." She shook her head. "I
can't understand your mother. Where did she go, and why?"

"I don't know. I really don't."

"Do you know what Benz meant when he said
that your mother was taking all of your cash?"

Olivia looked away ashamed. "You were right.
I signed that contract for her. Callahan is going to pay me a lot of money to
do the photos and Friedman gave my mother some money up front."

Michaela wrapped her arms around Olivia. She
couldn't help wonder if Kathleen had taken Olivia's money and skipped town.
Maybe Callahan had been right. Kathleen's jealousy took over where Audrey was
concerned and she'd killed her. Now she was running. She'd used her daughter
and was trying to cover her tracks. Michaela squeezed Olivia tighter. She
couldn't avoid the possibility that the girl's mother had not only used and
abandoned her, but might also be a murderess.

THE SUN FINISHED SETTING OVER THE PACIFIC AS Olivia
paced back and forth on the oceanfront deck of her mother's beach house, chain
smoking, while they waited for Josh to show up. She talked nonstop to Michaela,
who sat in a lounge chair, continuously waving away the toxic nicotine plume as
she listened to the young woman ramble on. Now that Olivia had admitted to her
drug use, she was like a well sprung open, and although Michaela had her own
set of concerns, she listened to her talk. There was no alternative.

"Funny thing is, you know who got me to even
try this shit?" Olivia said. "Bridgette."

"Your stepmother?"

"Oh yeah. My dad thinks she's all better
because he hooked her up at Betty Ford, but she was back using a few months
later. She does a good job of hiding it from him. But I know all about it. Tons
of people do. Benz gives it to her."

No surprise there.

"Last year at my dad's Christmas party? She
gave me some. Told me that she wanted to be friends. That kind of thing. My mom
had been driving me crazy. She'd pushed me into these recording sessions where
she'd hang out half the time, or make Audrey stay with me for hours. I was
wiped out. Bridgette said that the coke would pick me up, and it did."

"Did Audrey know about it?"

Olivia shrugged. "Maybe she suspected
something. I don't know. She kept trying to convince my mom that I needed a
rest. Audrey said that she wanted to take me to Hawaii or something, just to
have a break. I wanted to do that. Last month I was feeling rotten because the
drugs keep me up. You know? At first you think they're going to help you get
through the day. But they don't. They just make it worse."

"Do you know Audrey's brother, Bob?"

"I met him a few times. He took care of my
dad's horses, and also Halliday for my mom. He seemed like a nice guy. He
didn't like Bridgette, though. But who does, really?"

"Why do you say that he didn't like
her?"

"One time he was over at my dad's and my dad
wasn't there. I was down at the barn. The vet was there—Audrey's brother. And
Bridgette was there, which was weird because she doesn't have a lot to do with
the horses. She didn't realize I was down there, but she was whispering and I
heard her ask him if he'd told anyone."

"Told anyone what?"

"I don't know. That's all I heard her say,
because then he turned on her and told her to leave him
effing
alone.
She kept trying to ask him stuff, until she saw me there. Then she left. He
didn't say anything to me, and I didn't ask. He seemed pretty pissed off
though."

Interesting. Maybe Michaela was on the right track
where Bridgette was concerned. Maybe she and Bob had had an affair. From
everything she'd learned about Bridgette, honoring her vows wasn't high on her
priority list. Or maybe she'd shared a secret with him at Betty Ford and she
was afraid that he'd tell Hugh what it was. She wanted to believe the latter,
as she didn't want to think Bob would mess around with a married woman. This
was a piece of information she'd have to mull over a bit.

"Your mom told me that she was bankrupt. So,
now she's taken money owed to you from this contract that you signed. Want to
fill me in?"

Olivia took a long drag on her cigarette. "My
mom is not so great with money. She's great at spending it, but it's my dad who
knows how to handle it. Mom has made poor investments, and she spends cash as
soon as it's in her hands. She was near declaring bankruptcy when she came to
me and begged me to help her. She told me that she knew about me wanting to be
a jockey and that if I did this for her just for a few years that she wouldn't
ever ask me to do anything else for her again and that she'd let me ride and
not bother me about it.

"I agreed."

"Why?"

"She's my mom."

"She has a problem. She's an addict, too. She
spends money. Do you think signing away the next few years to Friedman and
posing for Callahan with Benz will be the end of it? Come on. You know better
than that. I've heard you sing. Your mother is right: You could be a huge star.
But if that's not what you want, don't do it so that she can temporarily get
out of the hole she's dug herself into and then watch her piss it away again.
You'll constantly be supporting her."

"Have you ever said no to your mom or
dad?"

Michaela thought about it. She nodded. "You
know, I guess I have. My dad is an addict. He's a gambler. And, the last time
he wound up doing it, I told him that I couldn't support his habit. I knew that
my mom would leave, and I could not stand by and watch him destroy himself. He
listened and now he's in a program, which is what you'll have to do. And you'll
also have to be tough with your mother. I realize that you love her, but you're
not doing either one of you any favors."