“I was right here. Asleep.”
Odelia leaned against the desk.“Can anyone vouch for that?”
Laurelle shook her head.“I sleep alone, if that’s what you mean. I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment, so…” Her voice trailed off, and Odelia felt genuinely sorry for the young woman. She looked like a scared little mouse.
“We have to ask,” she said softly.
“Of course. No, I get it. Just ask me anything you want.”
This was probably a waste of time. It was obvious Laurelle wasn’t the killer. She could probably hardly lift that cleaver, let alone wield it with such deadly force and precision. Still, they had to interview everyone on their list.
“There is one other thing we need to discuss, Miss Merritt,” Chase said.
“Yes?” she asked, eyes large.
“We’ve been told about the tape.”
“Yes?”
“The sex tape?” Odelia asked.
Shock appeared in the girl’s eyes. “Who-who told you?”
“That’s not important. Is it true?” asked Chase.
Laurelle buried her face in her hands.“Oh, no.”
“I’m sorry to have to bring this up,” said Chase. “But we need to know.”
She nodded, then said, in a choked voice,“I made that tape back when I was still seeing this guy. He worked as a caterer and I thought he was the one.” She shook her head. “So stupid. He convinced me that to make it in this business I should make a sex tape. It would put my name on the map. Give me exposure. I-I wasn’t totally convinced but-but he was adamant.”
Chase’s jaw was working. If this caterer were here right now he’d probably give him a piece of his mind. And his fist.
Laurelle looked up.“So we made the tape and I sent it to Shana, figuring she’d know what to do with it. She’s got all these contacts, so… And she did show it around. To her sisters and all of their friends. To make fun of me. And to give me points for technique. Apparently I was so bad I was funny.”
There was a note of bitterness in her voice, and Odelia didn’t blame her. If something like this happened to her she’d probably die of mortification.
“Did they spread the tape beyond their circle?” Chase asked.
“No, thank God they didn’t. Shana said the best thing would be to destroy the tape, as it could only ruin my reputation. So I did.”
“Why didn’t you quit your job?” Odelia asked. “After what Shana did to you it must have been hard to keep working for the Kenspeckles.”
“It was at first, but this is basically my dream job. A lot of stylists would kill for this job. So I decided to suck it up.” She produced a feeble smile. “It wasn’t so bad. Shana apologized. Said she was totally out of line.”
Chase asked some more questions, and so did Odelia, but it was pretty clear that this was not their killer, nor could she shed any light on the murder.
“All right, Miss Merritt,” said Chase. “Thank you for your time. If there’s anything else you can think of, give me a call.” He handed her his card.
They left the room and walked back to the main house.
“We’re nowhere,” Chase said. “Absolutely nowhere.”
“Did you check Shana’s ex-boyfriend? Robin Masters?”
“Yeah, he’s got an alibi. He’s in Alaska. Writing his autobiography.”
“Isn’t he a little young to write his autobiography?”
But Chase didn’t respond. Boa had joined them. He jerked his thumb in the direction of a woman in a fur coat who stood with her back to them.
“Lady wants a word with you, Detectives,” Boa grunted.
“I think our luck just ran out, Poole,” Chase said.
The woman turned, and Odelia recognized her. Camille Kenspeckle, the matriarch of the Kenspeckle clan. The woman she’d seen so many times on TV and the cover of countless magazines. And she did not look happy.
The moment Camille caught sight of them, she took off her sunglasses. There was a glint of steel in those eyes.“Detective Kingsley, I presume?”
“You presume right, Mrs. Kenspeckle.”
“I’m calling off your investigation, Detective.”
“You can’t call off a police investigation, ma’am. It’s not a photo shoot.”
“I’m bringing in the FBI. This should have been treated as a terrorist attack from the beginning. You failed my little girl, Detective. You failed my family. But no more. I’m taking over, as I should have done from day one.”
“This was not a terrorist attack,” Chase insisted. “This was a homicide, and if you pull us off the investigation now we may never find the one responsible.”
“You’re through, Detective, and so are you, whoever you are,” she said as she gave Odelia a supercilious glance. “This investigation is terminated.”
Camille had a lot more things to say, and so did Chase, but Odelia decided she’d heard enough. It was clear they’d overstayed their welcome. While Chase argued with Camille, she went in search of her cats. She found them on top of the leather couch in the living room, chatting and chillaxing.
“What’s going on?” Max asked.
“They’re kicking us out,” she said.
“See? I told you,” said Max. “I told you this was the end.”
“But they can’t do that,” Dooley said. “We’re the cops.”
“Camille has her own ideas about her daughter’s murder,” Odelia said. She picked up both cats and carried them off. “She’s convinced it was a terrorist attack and that the FBI should take over.”
“She’s calling in the FBI?” Max asked.
“Yep. She said we’ve wasted enough time. She’s taking her family back to LA, where she can protect them from the terrorists. She’s going to trust the FBI to handle the investigation from now on and not us local yokels.”
Max and Dooley followed her to the pickup. Five minutes later, Chase came walking up, his face a thundercloud. They all got into the car, and as they were pulling away from the house, down the long drive and out of the gate, a fleet of black Escalades came roaring up the drive and passed them.
“The Feds,” Chase said. “Camille doesn’t waste any time.”
“So we’re officially through?”
“Yes, we are,” Chase said, his hands tight on the steering wheel.
“Can they do that? Just… swoop in and take over?”
“Afraid so.” He glanced over. “It’s out of our hands now, Poole.”
“Pity we didn’t catch the killer,” Dooley said.
“Pity indeed.”
“What’s that?” Chase asked.
“Pity we didn’t catch the killer.”
“Yeah, damn shame.”
“Uncle Alec won’t like this.”
“He doesn’t have to like it. This time tomorrow the Kenspeckles will be gone, I’m pretty sure never to return. So it’s none of our business anymore.”
She settled back in her seat. Yep. This was the end, all right. The. End.
Chapter 22
“This is a nightmare,” said Uncle Alec, worrying the few remaining strands of wispy gray hair on his head until they stood on end.
Odelia and Chase were ensconced in the Chief’s office, discussing the unexpected turn their investigation had taken. A turn down the tubes.
“I talked to the FBI agent in charge. He told me to hand over any evidence we’ve managed to collect and they’ll take it from here.”
“Is he going to allow the Kenspeckles to fly out of here?” asked Odelia.
“Looks like. Camille wants her family safe and sound in that gated community where they all live. She’s hired the best muscle in LA to protect them from the terrorists she thinks are gunning for them. Ex-special forces.”
“I tried to explain we’re not dealing with terrorists here,” Chase said. “But Camille shot me down. She’s convinced her family is under attack.”
“I don’t understand,” Odelia said. “Why isn’t the FBI on the same page? They can’t possibly believe this was the work of some terrorist cell?”
“They’re convinced the killer somehow managed to outsmart Boa’s security team, and snuck in and killed Shana. It doesn’t help that I can’t offer them a suspect at this point. And arresting and being forced to release Dion Dread didn’t exactly boost my credibility. Plus it infuriated thefamily.”