“If that’s what happened, why’d he spend two hours working on that first well before taking off?”
“Maybe he finally reached his limit. Who knows?”
“You think that’s what happened?”
Howard drank more of his coffee, his eyes narrowing into slits. “For now,” he admitted. “But let’s see what you come up with.”
“Anything else you can think of that might help?”
“Not a thing.” Howard crumpled his cardboard coffee cup into a ball and tossed it into a trash can, banking it off the wall.
“Let me walk you out of here.”
The two men got up and left the interrogation room.
Chapter 5
They’d left Parker at home during the Hollywood premiere of The Carver, but at Philip Stonehedge’s insistence, Morris and Natalie swung by their West Hollywood home and picked up the bull terrier before driving to Stonehedge’s Malibu estate for his after-the-premiere dinner party.
Natalie hadn’t yet met Stonehedge (although she had caught a glimpse of the actor while they were waiting in line to get into the theater) and she raised an eyebrow as they drove through the security gate and continued along the private road that led to the sprawling contemporary-style home. Parker, who had accompanied Morris several times to the property and had learned to associate it with extraordinarily delicious bacon, began making pig-like grunts as he realized where he was.
“Why’s our little guy getting so excited?” Natalie asked.
“I’ll give you one guess what he was given the last two times I brought him here.”
“B-a-c-o-n,” she said.
“Correct.”
Morris parked behind a long line of other cars and made sure to keep a tight grip on Parker’s leash when he opened the door, otherwise the dog would’ve raced out of the car in pursuit of more of that sublime bacon. Parker was a loyal dog, but bacon was his one weakness. As they made their way to the front door, Parker strained against his leash as he tried to bull his way forward.
“Somebody’s overly excited,” Natalie observed.
Morris grunted back his acknowledgement.
A waiter in black tie met them at the door with a tray of blue-colored cocktails. Morris knew Stonehedge well enough to know that the drinks would be tasty, so he took one and suggested Natalie do the same. He was right. It was a concoction of blueberries, muddled mint, rum, lime juice, and honey. Natalie also took a sip and concurred that it was delicious.
The waiter informed them that the dinner was being held by Stonehedge’s pool in back. He glanced reproachfully at Parker, most likely wondering whether he should allow a dog into Stonehedge’s home, but held back any comment and instead proceeded to escort them through the house.
“Nice,” Natalie remarked as they went from room to room. “Interesting to see how Los Angeles’s royalty lives.” As they walked through Stonehedge’s designer kitchen, she looked around in awe and commented, “I feel like I’m in an episode of that old show Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.”
Morris was too busy keeping Parker in check to respond.
The dinner party out back wasn’t quite the small, intimate affair Stonehedge had hinted at. There were approximately eighty people milling about, and a half dozen or so waiters and waitresses walking through the crowd with trays of drinks and food. Morris spotted The Carver’s director and several of the actors from the film, and then heard his name. He looked over to see Stonehedge on the other side of the pool beaming at him, the actress Brie Evans by his side. Stonehedge signaled for Morris to join them.
“Our host,” Morris said, nodding toward Stonehedge.
“He certainly knows how to throw a shindig,” Natalie acknowledged.
It took some time to work their way through the crowd since one of The Carver’s producers stopped Morris to chat with him, and other partygoers wanted to make a fuss over Parker. If there wasn’t so much food around, the dog might’ve been spoiled by the attention, but as it was he hardly noticed it. When they finally reached Stonehedge, Morris introduced Natalie to the actor and his stunningly gorgeous girlfriend.
“At last we meet,” Stonehedge said, smiling good-naturedly.
“About time, huh?” Natalie said.
“I’d say so. I’ve only seen the picture of you Morris keeps in his office, but you’re even more beautiful in person.”
“Aren’t you too kind,” Natalie said, blushing in spite of herself. She was someone comfortable in her own skin, and compliments of any kind usually didn’t faze her, but this was a Hollywood star who had made People’s hundred sexiest list, and whose girlfriend topped that same list! Mostly to change the subject so she wouldn’t blush any further, she said, “Movies like The Carver aren’t necessarily my cup of tea—”
“Let me guess, they strike too close to home.”
“Exactly. But I thought you stole the movie as The Carver’s final victim.”
Stonehedge’s smile turned enigmatic. “I was supposed to star in it, but I was shot in the leg during a jewelry store robbery. Morris saved my life that day. That was why I played the part in a wheelchair. I still couldn’t walk when they filmed my scenes. It’s also how I got this.”
Stonehedge ran a thumb over the thick scar that was left behind when one of the robbers slashed his cheek open with a gun barrel.
“It gives you a rakish look, luv,” Brie Evans said. “Don’t you agree?” she asked Natalie.
“It certainly gives him character.”
Parker, who’d been standing impatiently, had had enough. With his tail wagging a slow beat, he let out a bark, which was unusual for him, and jumped on Stonehedge so that his front paws leaned against the actor’s thighs.
“I haven’t forgotten about you,” Stonehedge told the bull terrier as he rubbed Parker vigorously behind his ears. Then to Natalie: “This little brute was also responsible for saving my life that day.”
Natalie was well aware of the story, and simply nodded.
Stonehedge caught the eye of a waitress he was searching for and signaled for her to come over. “I ordered this specifically for Parker. Wood-grilled lobster wrapped in bacon.”
The mention of bacon elicited excited grunts from the dog.
“And of course, you used the world’s best bacon,” Morris said, using Stonehedge’s own words to describe the specialty bacon the actor bought from a small butcher shop in Venice.
“Of course.”
The waitress had made her way over and tried unsuccessfully to hide her nervousness about being near Stonehedge and Evans.
“Don’t give
