Dial Emmy For Murder Part 26

"But I do have an idea," he said.

"Where?"

"Here."

"You're going on a stakeout?"

"Care to join me? They're boring as h.e.l.l, but maybe we could find a way to pa.s.s the time."

I knew exactly what he meant, and Lord knows, I was tempted. "I can't. I'd love to but I want to spend some serious time with Sarah."

"Gotcha. Um, I should stay here, so how do we get you home?"

"George lives ten minutes away. Could you drop me off there? I'm sure he or Wayne could take me home."

"Let's go!" He pulled out onto the freeway, heading toward Silver Lake. "But I still want to kill some time with you. Not necessarily on a stakeout."

Chapter 48.

When I got home, I could smell dinner cooking. Again I felt guilty that my mother had been doing all the housework since she got back home. Even though I had to work on my show, I tried to do as much at home as I could. Except, of course, when I was trying to find a killer.

"Hi, Mom," I said, entering the kitchen and kissing her. "I'm sorry you have to make dinner again."

"I don't mind pitching in, Alex," she said, "until things get back to normal. Any idea when that would be?"

"Soon, Mom. Very soon."

"Well, Sarah's in her room."

"All right."

I had to go and say hi to my baby girl, stopping first in the bathroom to remove my makeup. I heard every word she said as she told me about her day.

"Here, dear," my mother said, handing me a gla.s.s of white wine as I reentered the kitchen.

"Mom, would you kill someone for me?" I asked.

"Why, who do you want me to kill?"

"I'm serious, Mom."

She turned away from the stove and looked at me. "I can see you are. Well, Alex, a mother's love is very strong. You know that. I would kill to protect you, just as you would to protect Sarah."

"Yes," I said, "to save her, I would. But . . ."

"But what?"

"We found out that the same actor has auditioned for the parts some of the dead men got. Not all, but some. And he always had his mother with him."

"Are you wondering if she killed all those men to get her son a part in a TV show?"

"It's possible, Mom, except for one thing."

"What's that?"

"He didn't get the parts," I said. "Why would she kill them if he didn't get the parts anyway?"

"I think you need to go over these things with your friend the detective," she said.

"I think you're right."

The doorbell rang at that moment.

My mom winced. "Oh, dear. I forgot to tell you. Paul called and said he'd be dropping by this evening."

"Mother!"

"I'm sorry," she said.

Maybe it wasn't Paul, I thought on my way to the door. Maybe it was Jakes. Please . . . make it be Jakes.

When I opened the door, Paul Silas was standing there. We hadn't spoken since I had told him not to come home after the Emmys.

"Paul."

"h.e.l.lo, Alex. Could you step out here, please?"

The fact that he wanted to talk outside, and didn't try to kiss me h.e.l.lo, spoke volumes.

I walked outside, closed the door and turned to face him. "When did you get back?" I asked.

"Yesterday."

"Paul-"

"Let me say something first."

"Okay. Uh . . . do you want to go somewhere?"

"No, actually I don't. I just didn't want to see Sarah." It looked like he was tearing up a little. He turned away from me for a second before he sighed and said, "Let's just keep this simple and to the point. You're involved in solving a murder again," he said, "like last year, right?"

"Well . . . I did have Jackson's body almost fall on me. . . ."

"And that means you're probably seeing Detective Jakes again."

I wasn't going to disrespect what I had had with Jakes by denying it. "Paul . . . I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. It's not you, it's m-"

"Whatever you say, please don't give me that old line! Look, I need more from a woman and a relations.h.i.+p. The trouble is I love you, Alex. I've told you that many times. I don't think you've said it to me more than twice and probably because you felt you had to."

"I do care about you, Paul. You're an amazing man." I meant it, too. I was at a loss. I wanted to say something profound, but I felt paralyzed. I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

"I get it," he said. "And you know what? It's okay. We met shortly after your marriage ended. I guess I was rebound man." He looked me square in the eyes and said, "I'm going to miss you, and almost worse than anything, I'm going to miss Sarah." He stifled a sob and I felt myself welling up.

"I am so sorry, Paul. I don't know why I couldn't make it work for me with you." I was tempted to reach out to him but thought that would be too much. "You're probably right. If it's not going to work for us, it's better to end it now before Sarah gets too attached to you."

"Yeah." He looked down and composed himself before saying, "Look, just cuz we didn't work out that way doesn't mean, you know . . . I guess what I'm trying to say is if you need anything, call me. I know you too well. Please don't do anything stupid, Alex, with this whole murder investigation business."

"I'd say I won't, but I don't want to be a liar!" I was trying for a little levity. "Maybe, um, after some time has gone by, maybe you could come by and see Sarah? She loves you. I know it would mean a lot to her."

I guess that was too much to hear because he just nodded his head and started down the walk. "You take care, Alex. I'll call you." He turned away and walked out of my life. I couldn't help but be sad. Another one bites the dust. I stood there, stunned at how easy it had seemed but at the same time filled with remorse because I hadn't had the courage to end it myself in a better way. To admit what was obvious from the first time I'd met Frank Jakes-that I was never in love with Paul, and that I was attracted to Jakes right from the beginning.

"Was that Paul?" my mother asked as I walked into the kitchen.

"Yes, it was."

"He's not staying for dinner?" She looked at me closely.

"No, Mom, he's not," I said.

"Are you okay?"

"Not entirely. But I will be."

She put her spoon down, came over and wrapped her arms around me. Even though I hadn't been in love with Paul, it still felt like a loss. And I cried.

"It's okay, sweetheart. After all, love isn't for wimps."

I laughed out loud and, wiping my eyes, said, "It sure as h.e.l.l isn't!"

Chapter 49.

The next morning Jakes called as I was making breakfast for all of us.

"Can I come and pick you up?" he asked. "We got another one."

I went cold. "Another what?"

"Body."

"Oh, G.o.d."

"The victim fits the description of the others," he said. "No ID on him, though. I'd like to see if you know him from your soaps."

I looked at my mother, who waved at me to go. Mother-daughter ESP at work.

"All right," I said. "Pick me up."

"Okay."

"Wait! Did you get to talk to Nate last night?"

"I'll tell you about that when I pick you up."

I hung up.

"Go get dressed," Mom said. "I'll fix Sarah some breakfast, and she can stay home from surf camp today."

"Thank you, Mom."

I was waiting out front when Jakes pulled up. I had called into work to tell them I'd be unavoidably late. They would tape around me as much as they could. I hopped into the pa.s.senger seat and we were off.

He told me what happened while he was on stakeout the day before: It was just after dark when a car pulled into the driveway and a young man got out and started for the front door. Jakes got out of his car and ran up behind him.

"Excuse me," Jakes said, holding out his ID.

The younger man turned around and looked startled when he saw Jakes. "Who are you? Whaddya want?"

"Take it easy. My name's Detective Jakes. I just want to talk to you. That is, if you're Nate Russell?"

"I am," he said. He looked behind him at the house, maybe checking to see if anyone was coming out. "Can we talk out here? I don't want to worry my mom. She gets kind of jumpy."

Jakes didn't think he'd ever met a less jumpy woman than Adrienne Russell, but he kept it to himself.

Jakes knew he couldn't ask Nate Russell to account for his whereabouts on the five dates that the men had been killed. Civilians didn't normally keep track of their comings and goings that closely. But he could ask him where he was when Jackson was killed, and then again when Henri Marceau was killed.

"And what were those days?" Nate asked.

Jakes repeated them. "Come on, Nate," he added. "It wasn't that long ago."

"Well, I'd say I was either at an audition or at work."

"Gotta be more specific than that, Nate."

"I can't-"

"Maybe if we go downtown you'll be able to remember more," Jakes said, grabbing his arm.