Dial Emmy For Murder Part 11

"Can we meet somewhere . . . or can I come there?" he asked.

"Um, here?"

"Yes," he said. "I thought you said your daughter was with your mother? On a trip?"

"That's right."

"And Paul . . . he's out of town?"

Somehow I could sense where he was going with this. I hesitated. "Yes."

"So . . . can we meet and talk?"

No, I thought. "Yes," I said.

"Be there in a few."

Chapter 20.

He rang the bell and I let him in.

"Want some coffee?" I asked.

"Coffee? Are we planning on being up all night?" I looked at him and he held my eyes. "How about something a little stronger?" He picked up a purple My Little Pony. "Nice hair."

"That's my daughter's. I have an opened bottle of white wine."

"Yeah, I figured it was Sarah's. Nothing stronger?"

I smiled at him questioningly. This was kind of feeling like a dare. Or maybe it was just my compet.i.tive nature.

"Sorry, I'm all out of rotgut. Have a seat." I pulled out another winegla.s.s and got mine from the sink.

He sat at the table and looked out the back door at the ca.n.a.ls.

"This brings back some fond memories." He was referring to last year when I had been saved from a much too near death experience by him and Paul. "Suppose you tell me what's on your mind, Alex?"

"Let's talk about you first."

He took a sip-no, make that a gulp-of wine.

"What about me?" he asked. "What did my partner tell you?"

"He said you were getting yourself into trouble."

"That's nothing new," he said. "Did he say why this time?"

"Yes, he said it was . . . because of me."

"You?"

"Yes," I said, "me."

We stared at each other across the table. He picked up a strawberry from a bowl on the table and popped it in his mouth. "Did he say what he meant?"

"I think you know what he meant, Jakes." I bit into a strawberry and slowly chewed it. He was staring at my mouth. And I was staring at him staring at my mouth. Jeez! What was this turning into-9 Weeks?

"Look," Jakes said, "I don't know how deep you want to get into this right now, Alex."

I couldn't tell if he was kidding or what exactly. "To tell you the truth"-and I was-"neither am I. Why don't we stick to talking about how much trouble you're in because of me?"

"None," he said. "Any trouble I'm in is always my own doing. You just let me worry about it." He went for another strawberry and slowly bit into it. Juice was running down his chin. He brushed it away with the back of his hand, looking at me the whole time. Was he doing this on purpose?

"Would you please just stop it?"

"Stop what?"

"You know what. The whole biting into the strawberry thing . . . The juice."

He popped another one into his mouth. "I have no idea what you're talking about. These are good. Where did you get them? Whole Foods?" He was lying, but I couldn't prove it so I went back to the topic at hand.

"You've been giving me special treatment, haven't you? Not considering me a suspect? Letting me help?"

"You know things about these people I don't," he explained. "And I'm not treating you as a suspect because I don't consider you one."

"Even though everyone else who was there that day at the Emmys is a suspect."

"Were," Jakes said. "They were suspects in the beginning. I didn't know them. I know you."

Then I had to go and open my big fat mouth. "Well, I found out something today, as a matter of fact."

"What's that?"

I couldn't help myself. I was excited about the info. I told him about visiting Aaron Summers's landlady and getting his parents' address from her.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing? It really bugs me that you do that kind of thing on your own. You're an actress, remember? I'm the detective." He gave me a stern look and then asked, "Why did you start with Summers?"

"He auditioned for a role on my old soap. I was able to get his home address and check it out."

"Well, four are actors," he answered. "I checked with the Screen Actors Guild and AFTRA, like you suggested."

"Four?" I asked. "What about the fifth man?"

"Still checking."

I sat back in my chair. "Jakes, if they're all actors, what does this mean?"

"Somebody's obviously targeting actors, but it's a little more than that."

We weren't including Henri in our conversation. He had not been an actor. He was the square peg in the round hole.

"How do you mean?"

"They're all the same type," he said. "Young, handsome studs, from what I've been able to find out. Not look-alikes, but the same general type."

"So it's not bad enough that somebody may be targeting soap actors, but they're picking a certain type."

"Right."

"So, does this mean you have a serial killer?"

Jakes winced and said, "My boss doesn't want to hear that term, but if I find that the fifth man was an actor, then, yes, that's what my report is going to have to say. Except for one thing."

"What's that?"

"Well, if you hadn't recognized Aaron Summers's picture, we might not have known they were actors. I mean, it's not like they were making their living at it. They all had other jobs, except for Jackson Masters."

"But they have worked as actors."

"To some extent," he said. "A couple of them had done commercials, local plays, that kind of thing. Jackson was the only one who was actually working on a show at the time of his death. And I still have to find out about the fifth man."

"When will you know?"

"Tomorrow," he said. "Len's supposed to be working that angle, but I guess he took some time off to talk to you."

"He cares about you."

"Sure," Jakes said. "Me and his job. If I get in trouble, he doesn't want any of it getting on him."

"I don't understand," I said. "I thought partners were very close-"

"We haven't been able to do that," he said. "Len replaced my old partner, whom I was with for twelve years. Even though Len and I have been together for five, there's just this . . . s.p.a.ce between us."

"What happened to him? Your old partner?"

"He . . . died."

"Oh," I said. "I'm sorry. Was he killed in the line of duty?"

"Yeah," Jakes said.

"I'm sorry," I said again. I was waiting for him to elaborate, but it was obviously a sore subject. "I won't pry. . . . I mean it's not like we're really close. . . ."

He just nodded. "You got that address for me?"

"I'd like to go with you to see the parents."

"Why?"

"Because I was there when Jackson was killed," I said.

He sat back in his chair. "I can't take you."

"Why not?"

"You're too recognizable, Alex," he said, "especially to a family whose son was part of your world, even on a part-time basis."

"I don't understand the problem."

"You'd be a distraction," he said. "Didn't you tell me the woman you talked to today kept gus.h.i.+ng?"

"Yes, but she still came up with the address, didn't she?"

He smiled and said, "An address you haven't given me yet."

After I handed it to him, I walked him to the front door. We walked close together, occasionally brus.h.i.+ng against each other. I didn't know if he was doing it, or I was, or if it was a combination of both.

We stood in the doorway.

"So," he said, "what's going on? I'm not leaving until you tell me."

I was sort of stuck between the wall and his chest. Very close. I tried to look away but he held my chin and looked me in the eyes.

"Let me help you. I know you need someone to listen."

I was desperately trying not to cry. But despite my best efforts, a tear slid down my cheek.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so f.u.c.king hard for me. . . . I hate putting this on you," I stammered.

"I want you to put it on me, Alex. I want you to. Let me help."

I just looked at him, blinking back my tears. I surrendered. "It's my ex-husband. Sarah's father. I never told you. He embezzled some money from me years ago and then took off. I haven't heard from him since. Until a few weeks ago. He called to say he was coming back to the States and wanted to see Sarah. That piece of s.h.i.+t!"

"How is that a bad thing?" he asked. "You can press charges, maybe get some of that money back."

"He wants to see Sarah," I said again, and then I added, "He threatened me."

"Why would he threaten you? Did you provoke him in some way?" He had s.h.i.+fted into cop gear.

"h.e.l.l, yeah, I provoked him. He can't just stroll back into our lives like nothing ever happened. He's a sonofab.i.t.c.h motherf.u.c.ker! And I told him so."

"Do you think he would ever try to hurt you? Did he ever abuse you when you were together?"