Chapter 13
J immy wove in and out of downtown traffic towards the 110 southbound until he hit exit 21 leading to Santa Monica and the beach. He needed to clear his head, and with the help of the salty air and waves crashing the shore, he’d be able to lose himself from this world—and all the crud.
He burned inside. Anger and disbelief fueling the fire. Of all the damn fool things to do, Clar had the nerve to tell him to get the hell out of her life. Well damn it, for once he’d do exactly that! She’d get what she wanted all these years...him gone.
He’d walk the hell away from her and her endless issues with life. He had enough shit of his own to figure out. Cameron being in LA only managed to conjure up Jimmy’s past failed attempt at justice. He couldn’t even begin to fathom how a low-down piece of sidewalk crud like Reed Cameron had turned over a new leaf. No way, no how.
Even for the reasons Cameron gave for being in LA, there had to be a catch.
There was always a catch. A leopard doesn’t change its spots.
Clar’s endless need to baby Levi, like he was totally incapable of doing so himself drove him crazy. Levi was a grown man, not a lost boy. Jimmy thought about a few of the scrapes Levi had been in. Well, maybe he was lost. What did she expect him to do? Fight law enforcement and find out who in the hell laid Levi up in a state of who knew what? To find out why a few of her candy wrappers were left at the scene? Figure out why the sicko wanted to lure Clar back to LA? Well, he wasn’t going to do it. Clar and her posse could go in on their own and find the damn killer. He wanted no part of it...not anymore.
He’d disappear from the face of the earth just like his dad had. No word. No trace. No way for anyone to contact him. Go to work one day to never return. After all, the killer wasn’t after Jimmy. No, the killer’s target was Clar—plain and simple.
Jimmy sped past cars and landscape, his mind shaking off the painful image of his dad. The Chicago PD brass came to his house with some story about his dad going down in the line of duty. His mother cried for days until they laid Sean O’Brien in a six-foot hole as the family and the Chicago PD paid homage. Jimmy didn’t buy the hero story back then any more than he did today. His dad deserted them, that’s all he knew—all he remembered. He’d always sworn he’d never take the same easy route. So, what the hell was he doing running away?
Suddenly a vision of Clar, laying in a pool of blood, pink candy wrappers strewn over her violated body flashed through Jimmy’s horrified mind. His shoulders tightened like an overwound clock. The muscles in his thighs twitched. His stomach convulsed. Good gawd, what the hell was he doing running away again, leaving her alone and vulnerable at a time like this?
“Fuck, not on my watch, you bastard!” Heart racing, Jimmy gripped the wheel then swerved into the far-right lane traffic, horns blasting one after the other. He sped up the nearest off ramp, over the bridge, then down the on ramp and headed north back on the 110. The rush hour traffic increased as he continued to weave in and out of vehicles; the drivers giving him the finger, and brakes squealing and horns honking like crazy. He didn’t give a damn.
Jimmy punched the panel on his dash, “Call Detective Reed Cameron.”
“Cameron.” The gruff voice barked.
“Cameron, it’s O’Brien.” After a few seconds he could sense the man tensing up on the other end, but their petty differences didn’t matter. “Cameron, you still there? Okay, so be the asshole you’ve always been and listen, don’t talk. Meet me at Cum Again Studios. I’ve got a bad feeling.” Jimmy’s white knuckled grip tightened around the steering wheel, his stomach twisting in knots.
He had to get back to the studio.
He had to tell Clar he wasn’t about to abandon her, not now, not ever. Unlike his father, Jimmy would come back to her no matter the situation. Jimmy had to tell her he’d love her through the end of time.
Ignoring the city speed limit, Jimmy ran a red light nearly crashing with a big black caddie. The driver hunched low over the steering wheel, gave him the finger. Tires screaming defiance, Jimmy ignored him and squealed into the studio driveway. Thank God, Jacki’s car was still here, he was in time. He relaxed for a moment until he knew he still had something important to do, something he couldn’t put off. He threw open his door seconds after the engine halted, then sprinted up the walk and into the reception area of the studio. The unnatural depth of the quiet hit him like a ton of bricks upon entering. Nothing moved, not even the air conditioning was running, only the thundering of his racing pulse split the quiet. It felt like a fricking ghost town. Where the hell was everyone? Why weren’t they answering?
“Clar!” James called out; icy fear squeezed his heart until he thought he’d die. Glancing at the desk he noticed Jacki’s notes and the DVR were missing. “Where is everyone?”
Maybe they’re in the studio and can’t hear me. Please, dear God, don’t let me find her dead. The hairs on the back of his neck snaked over locked muscles. Jimmy swallowed the sour taste lingering in the back of his throat, then headed toward Studio A.
He clutched the doorknob, jumping out of his skin when the air conditioning unit kicked back to life. Pushing the door open, he peered into darkness. Light, hollow murmurs reached him, and he flicked on the light switch. His greatest fear slapped him in the face.
Across the room Jacki struggled to her feet using a toppled chair for support. Clint rolled over on his knees, then slowly stood up. In front of the projector, a long, blond wig lay in a heap on the floor.
Bending down, Jimmy snatched the bundle of blond hair up, grabbing a fluttering piece of paper freed from the tangled strands. The words formed on the page pierced his heart, then his soul. He looked from Jacki to Clint as he attempted to temper the rage burning through him.
“Where the hell is Clar?” A wave of cold, like an icy winter wind, hit his core as he demanded to know where she was. But Jimmy knew. It was plainly relayed in the message. The asshole had her and it was all Jimmy’s fault. He should have stayed. Should have gotten a breath of fresh air, calmed down a bit, and then come back in to reason with Clar. But no, he had to jump in the truck like a spoiled little boy, tail tucked between his legs and run as far from what he desired most in life.
IF YOU WANT TO FIND YOUR PRECIOUS CANDY, COME WHERE TIME HAS BEEN FORGOTTEN.
Each letter perfectly formed with pieces of pink KK candy wrappers.
“What the fuck is going on?” Cameron’s voice boomed through the room, shaking Jimmy out of his shocked state of mind. “Why are you holding that wig, O’Brien? Looking to amp up your style?”
“It’s Clar’s. She was wearing it earlier today and now she’s been kidnapped,” Jimmy hissed, glaring across the room at the two people he thought would have had her back. Goes to show, don’t do anything without first finding out if it works for all involved. And NEVER leave the one you love in the hands of two PIs! Love? Hell no! No more snap emotional decisions from this moment forward. “We had a fight. I left. I came back to find these two yahoos struggling to their feet, and this on the floor with the wig.” Jimmy handed Cameron the hand crafted, cryptic note. “And before you say it, yes, we went behind your back. Yes, it was stupid, dangerous, and out of line.”
Cameron looked over the crumbled paper, his jaw clenching. “And this is the result of whatever it is that you have done here today. You of all people know I could throw you in jail for obstruction of justice. Now instead of finding a murderer, we’ve got a missing person on our hands. And that person is connected to not only the scene of the crime, but also the victim in this case.” His tone sharp, Cameron waved the paper at all of them, shaking his head in disgust. “First off, what the hell happened here today? And don’t leave a frickin’ thing out of the equation.”
“We held a mock interview with Kandi Kyses hoping to draw the killer out,” Jacki quipped, massaging her temples in slow circles with the pad of her index fingers.
Clint rubbed the back of his neck, “Then this fuck got her pissed off, they had a few words, and he ran.”
“In my defense, Clar told me to leave so I did!” Jimmy’s gut rolled violently. He had pushed the envelope; it was what he did. Push until the truth comes out. Push until he’d finally beaten a horse dead. An instinct he didn’t know how to control and now it had pushed Clar away.
“And that childish reaction has gotten us here. Unless Clar’s in the bathroom, she’s missing,” Jacki piped in from the chair where she landed after crawling up from the floor. “Damn, my head feels like a jackhammer’s inside.”
“If I had to guess—we were KO’d by the killer.” Clint piped in. “An invisible one, I might add.”
“Since lover boy here is holding that wig,”—Cameron waved the now ransom note in the air, “and the fact this is here as well, it’s a safe bet she’s gone. What happened after the fight?”
“I left Clar in the care of these two Bozos. I was going to head to Santa Monica to clear my head, then decided no way in hell was I going to leave without knowing she was safe.” Jimmy’s shoulders slumped. He’d never tell them how he’d failed at protecting someone he cared about again. First his mother, after his father died, then the citizens of Chicago from a corrupt system. Now Clar. The vision of her lying in a pool of blood still fresh in his mind, he shivered slightly.
“Jimmy, did you know Evie had a brother?” Jacki asked, testing the floor beneath her feet. “Some guy came in right after you left looking for her.”
Cameron looked up from his notes, his brows furrowed. “Did this ‘brother’ give his name?”
“Edward, Edward DeLuca,” Jacki answered, reaching for her notes.
“Eddie, here in LA? Great.” Cameron shook his head “That can’t be good.”
Jimmy crossed the room feeling like he waded through muck. Cameron knew something. How far could he press the detective this time? “So, he’s back in town, or did he ever really leave?”
“According to what Mr. DeLuca said, Evie didn’t know he was in town. He said she wasn’t expecting him.” Clint scowled, his eyes darting between Jimmy and Cameron. Jimmy knew that Ranger mind of his was fast at work, coming up with a million scenarios. “If you ask me, he’s up to no good. There’s something very unsettling about the guy. He’s a bit too slick for my tastes.”
“If he’s here, something is up in Chicago. I’ll make a few calls and see what I can find out.” Cameron cocked his head, his face etched in thought. “What happened after he came in?”
“Not much, said he was looking for Evie and then he left. He did seem a bit star struck that he met ‘Kandi’ if that means anything.” Jacki volunteered, gathering up the pages scattered on the floor. “I was going through Evie’s computer files looking for any information when he came in right after Jimmy left.”
“Is that the guy I passed when I left?” Jimmy asked, trying to recall the man he briefly rubbed shoulders with. Nothing that would make him stand out just in passing. Nothing about the guy would have made him think of Evie, either.
Clint nodded, helping Jacki pick up the papers. “A few minutes after Jimmy was out the door, we—Clar, Jacki, and myself—came in here to watch the interview on a bigger screen. We each took a third of the projection looking for anything remotely suspicious when Clar asked for a rewind because she thought she’d seen something. Next thing I knew I was crawling to my knees, Jacki was laying curled up on the floor, Clar’s wig lay in a heap, and Jimmy had burst in guns blazing.”
“That’s where I came in and found them senseless. And Clar gone.”
Cameron flipped through his notes, scowling. “You said he was looking for Evie? Wasn’t she here?”
“No, she hadn’t come in. In fact, never even called.” Jimmy remembered how concerned Clar was about Evie’s mysterious absence. “Clar was a little concerned, surprised even that she hadn’t even called in.”
“Is that unusual?” Cameron pursed his lips, his eyebrows squished together.
“According to Clar, highly unusual,” Jacki said.
“O’Brien, can you verify? You know her better than these two.” Cameron wandered over to where Jacki sat with her papers neatly stacked on her lap, then turned and returned.
“Evie never missed a day. The studio is her lifeline if you ask me.” Jimmy watched Cameron stare at the floor, nodding his head as if in answer to a question he only knew. “Listen, Evie may be a lot of things. Daughter of a mobster for instance and, Cameron, don’t think we’re not going to talk about that. I think she’s had a rough life and she can be a hard person to deal with, but she’d never do anything to hurt this studio.”
“Okay, that’s it for now. I’ll put a missing person, possible kidnapping, out on Clar Turner.” Cameron snapped his notebook shut, pointing his finger at Jimmy. “O’Brien, since you have a history with Evie Dagmyer, I want you to come with me.”
“I don’t know how much she’ll tell me, there’s never been any love lost between us,” Jimmy muttered. “But I’ll do anything, talk to anyone, if it’ll help find Clar.”
***
C LAR FLOATED UPON A fluff of cloud with a wisp of a breeze. Her mind peaceful, no ugly thoughts. No need to run and hide. She sighed and opened her eyes to darkness surrounding her. Panic replaced the tranquility. Nostrils flared, fear skipping through her. Clar struggled against the bindings to move her arms and legs, her head hitting something hard and unyielding, exploding with sharp pain. Tears stung her eyes. She let out a muffled scream through the blockage in her mouth, the taste resembling something of an old sock.
“If I were you, I’d settle down back there,” a deep, mechanical voice warned. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt on the way, Kandi. No, that’ll come later in a pleasurable way. I promise you, the pain will only last an instant, followed by pleasure, and then you’ll be set free—and so will I.”
The sinister laugh vibrated around her and she involuntarily shivered. Who was threatening her? Clar didn’t recognize the voice, and her captor referred to her as Kandi, using her film name. Pushing fear aside, Clar focused on what her senses could tell her.
I’m in the back of a car and, shit, some deranged fan has me. Or it’s the killer. Okay, don’t panic. Breathe in and out. Remember the self-defense Jacki taught you. Once this madman gets me out, I’m gonna take this sucker out! The vehicle sped over rough roads. It was obviously not paved, at least not a good one judging from the way she jostled about.
“Have no fear, my love, by now your friends are awake feeling the world has crashed down around them. They are probably wondering where you are and have called the authorities. Their speed, or lack of it, determines when they find you. Cops always act like they’re on a movie set. Humph! No direction with law enforcement these days. A pity really, a family needs its army. And yours, Clar Turner, has finally been defeated!”
The arsenic laced words mingled with malice gripped her racing heart. A second involuntary cry escaped Clar. She quickly sucked down any further display of fright. A hard pill to swallow, fear finally dislodged from her mind.
He knows who I really am. I’m not going to give this asshole satisfaction. Whoever this lunatic is, I’m going to make sure he never sees the light of day. If I live long enough that is.
“In case you’re curious, and I’m sure you are, I left a note with your wig. That reporter boyfriend of yours will eventually figure it out, along with that Chicago detective Cameron. Now that’s one warped SOB.” A sigh, followed by a chuckle floated over Clar. “It’s a shame he’s no longer on the wrong side of the law. Ah well, I’m sure by now your friends are sporting a few minor aches and pains from the gas, but don’t worry, they’ll recover.” The vehicle slowed, the crunching of tires on gravel grated on Clar’s spinning mind.
“I have to tell you something. Your full figure is so much more appetizing than that skinny one you sported at the height of your film career. I’ve found it does crazy things to my body. Leaving the business has been kind to you. I truly believe there’s nothing sexier than gazing upon a body in its natural form, don’t you agree? You’ll make millions with your final performance drenched in nothing but chocolate as the camera fades to pink then black. Branding is everything, don’t you think? Of course, you won’t live long enough to collect the royalties. The studio will though, in your memory of course.”
Clar’s stomach churned, the sour bile fighting to find a way up and through her mouth. If the rumblings didn’t settle down soon, she’d likely drown in her own vomit. She took deep breaths, one at a time, through her nose until the rolling ceased. At least for the time being.
“I think we’ve had enough conversation for now. I can only imagine how tired you must be and crave the need to rest.”
The vehicle slid to a stop, slamming Clar between the seat and floorboards. The door Clar’s head was lodged against swung open. The heat of the day washed over her. A sweet smell enveloped her nose and mouth. Clar fell back into the peaceful sleep she’d woke from several minutes before. The sound of evil laughter chasing her down the rabbit’s hole.