Hollywood Heat. Arlette Lees
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late and I’m tired. What do you want?”
“I’m coming by in the morning. There are some papers I need you to sign.”
“Looks like you’ve already been here.”
“Oh that. I bumped the commendation off the wall and didn’t have time to clean up the mess. It shouldn’t be hard to find another frame.”
“Get to the point, Dorothy. What kind of papers are you talking about?”
“It’s too complicated to go into on the phone.”
“You broke into my desk. You left a nasty gouge in the wood.”
“I needed copies of last year’s IRS filing,” she said.
“The next time, call before you come. I don’t need my house ransacked.”
“I am calling.”
“I’m sleeping in tomorrow, so I don’t want you showing up before ten. And Dorothy, I want my dog back.”
“If I leave Beezer with you, he’s alone all day. I bring him on the set where he gets a lot of attention.”
“I want my dog.”
“And people in hell want ice water. Besides, what makes him yours?”
“You gave him to me for my forty-third birthday, remember?”
“I have no recollection of that event.”
A loaded silence followed as Hallinan took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“When are you coming home, Dorothy?”
“Please don’t do this, Rusty.”
“Haven’t I always been good to you? I don’t understand where all this hostility is coming from.”
“Of course, you don’t,” she said, and hung up.
By two A.M. Rusty had showered and hit the sack. He had one more day of vacation before he was back on the roster, and he planned to make the most of it by turning on the TV, putting his feet up, and eating a half gallon of chocolate ice cream.
By three A.M., his grand plan was off the table.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MISSING
Nathan finished opening his gifts. There was an elegant gold wristwatch, bottles of vintage wine, a first edition of Tom Sawyer, a new set of golf clubs, and gift certificates to the finest purveyors of gentlemen’s attire in Beverly Hills. After he thanked everyone for their generosity, the caterers left and the party thinned out.
Several people were still milling around when Helen climbed the stairs to the master bathroom and washed down a couple antacid tablets. She removed her jewelry, then went down the hall to check on Daisy.
A full moon shone through the French door that opened onto a patio separating the back of the house from the upslope of the mountain. Through a connecting door on the right wall of the nursery was Sigrid’s room.
When she crossed the pink carpet and bent beneath the ruffle-topped canopy, she sensed something wasn’t right. She snapped on the lamp. The bed was empty. She opened Sigrid’s door, expecting to find the two curled up together.
“Sigrid, are you awake?” she whispered. There was no response. She flicked the light switch. Sigrid’s bed was empty. She checked Daisy’s bathroom and the walk-in closet. She turned on the bug light and looked out the French door. The wind was up, and a moon the size of a Chinese lantern hung above the hills.
As Helen stepped into the hall, Sigrid came walking from the opposite direction, her face flushed, a strand of hair escaping from the thick russet braid over her shoulder.
“Are you looking for me, Mrs. Adler?”
“I’m looking for Daisy. She’s not in her room.”
“I tucked her in hours ago.”
“Is there a problem?” asked Nathan, stepping from his den. He smoothed his thinning hair with the palm of his hand and straightened his tie.
“I can’t find Daisy.” said Helen.
Word spread quickly. Johnny and Lana helped search the house, while Trudy and Todd volunteered to check the street out front.
“She can’t go far in her nightgown,” said Aunt Sarah, fingering her coral necklace. ”It’s cold out there.”
Nathan went to the phone and called L.A.P.D. The moment he asked the remaining guests not to leave until the police arrived, the seriousness of the situation sank in. If Daisy wasn’t found soon, the news would hit the papers like a gallon of red paint.
Men who’d attended the gathering with women other than their wives stumbled over one another to get out the door. A married man and a young actor with whom he’d been cheek to cheek all evening gave one another a look of glitter-eyed panic and raced to separate cars.
Horst Kepler, on the other hand, was having the time of his life, gleefully snapping photo after photo of the fleeing guests until he’d exhausted his supply of film. He rushed to the foyer, swept the guest book from its pedestal, and bolted for the door.
“I’ll take that, young man,” said Sarah, rushing over, her voice crackling with age. Horst pushed her aside and fled like a delinquent who’d keyed the principal’s car.
“That rotten goniff!” she said. “This is intolerable.”
Helen led a small group back to Daisy’s room. She opened the French door and stepped onto the patio. The chilly wind whipped the soft golden fabric of her gown. Her toe hit the corner of Teddy’s food dish and she turned to Sigrid.
“What are the cat’s things doing out here? Haven’t I told you that we feed Teddy in the kitchen? And why is this door unlocked?”
“I was trying to coax him inside with food. I left the door unlocked so Daisy could let him in.”
Johnny was first to see the muddy canine tracks circling the overturned water bowl and empty dish. He shot Nathan a cautionary look, but it was too late.
“Oh my God!” said Helen. “A coyote’s been back here.”
“Please calm down, Mrs. Adler,” said Sigrid. “They’re probably from the neighbor’s dog.”
Helen spun around and gave Sigrid a resounding slap in the face that sent her staggering sideways. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, you deceitful slut.”
Dead silence. No one had ever seen Helen curse or lose her temper. Lana squeezed Johnny’s arm. “I think we should go,” she said. “This is clearly a police matter.”
Helen took a step toward Sigrid. The girl took a step back and pressed a hand to the angry welts rising on her cheek. “We pay you good money and ask very little in return. Where were you when you were supposed to be watching my baby?” she said, her voice breaking. “Answer me. Where were you?” Sigrid’s pale blue eyes simmered with loathing.
“Exactly where you think I was…Helen.”
The color drained from Nathan’s face. He reached out a comforting hand to his wife and a consoling look to Sigrid.
“Don’t touch me,” said Helen, with frightening calm. “Stay away from me. Both of you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
A CALL IN THE NIGHT
Dorothy’s phone call had left Hallinan staring at the ceiling with adrenaline coursing through his blood. He’d just begun to doze when the phone rang. He pulled the pillow over his head with a moan. It kept ringing. A sliver of moonlight shone beneath the window shade, shadows of tree branches webbing over the bedspread. The luminous dial on the clock read 3 A.M. Hallinan reached over and grabbed the phone, knocking an ashtray to the floor.