Crash Into Me - L.A. Fiore Page 0,20

he said, offering his hand.

“Thanks for having us,” Zac said.

“When your captain called, I must admit, I was intrigued by the case. We’ve pulled the case file.”

“Thanks.”

“The coroner who worked on the case is retired, but…” He reached for a folder on his desk and handed it to Zac. “His name, number and address. I reached out to him, told him you’d be stopping by. The information on Laurence Breen is in there, as well, as is the address and number for Katrina Dent’s parents.”

“This is great. Thank you,” Zac said.

“Like I said, this case is curious, but if we got it wrong, all those years ago, we need to do what we can to set it right.” Timothy Carson was alright. “You need anything, you’ve got my resources at your disposal.” He gestured to the officer who brought us to the station. “Officer Dobbs will take you to your hotel. There’s a car there for you. All I ask, if this gets dicey, call us in. The paperwork involved in shootings from officers out of their jurisdiction is tedious.”

“Will do,” Zac replied.

“Thank you,” I said.

He took his seat and smiled. “Happy hunting.”

Zac waited until we were outside before he said, “I say we get some shut eye, start fresh in the morning.” It was eight in the evening, our time, but in LA, it was only five. We’d been on the go for over twelve hours. Starting fresh was smart.

“Sounds good to me.”

Our hotel wasn’t far from the station. As soon as we checked in, Zac put the Do Not Disturb sign on his door. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

He had the right idea. “Night, Zac.”

I got ready for bed in record time and was out seconds after my head hit the pillow.

“She was such a beautiful child. Always happy. Always smiling.” Ellie Dent touched a picture of a young Katrina, the following day during out visit. Her eyes were bright, a tissue clutched in her hand. “The camera loved her. Always had.”

Tony sat across from me; Zac next to him. It had been thirty-one years, and still, their pain was clear to see. Looking around their spacious and elegant living room, it was a shrine to their daughter. Her picture was everywhere: framed on the mantel, over the hearth, the walls, a collection of shots covered the top of the white baby grand.

“Why are you looking into this now?” Tony asked, his voice unable to hide the pain.

“Katrina’s case came up during our investigation into another crime.”

“I don’t understand how,” Tony said.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Is there anything you remember from back then? Anyone who was giving Katrina a hard time? Any crazy fans?”

“No,” Ellie said, looking up from the photo album, “she was loved.”

“What about her fiancé, Jason Benjamin. Do you know what happened to him?”

Zac and I didn’t miss the look that passed between Tony and Ellie. We’d hit a nerve.

“We lost touch with him after…” Ellie didn’t finish the thought.

“I know this is difficult, but was Katrina the type to take her own life?” Zac asked, as gently as that question could be asked.

Another look was shared between Katrina’s parents, before her father said, “Katrina was a beautiful soul, eager to please everyone, to be loved and accepted. Hollywood is difficult, particularly for women back then. Did the pressure get to her?” He paused, as if he was forcing the words out. “Yes.”

Zac handed Tony his card. Ellie didn’t see us out. Her focus was on the photo album. “If you think of anything else, please call me.”

The door closed at our backs with a decided thud. I stood on their front stoop and looked out at the acres of land surrounding their estate. Zac was looking at the Greek revival home we’d just walked out of.

“This place must cost a mint,” he said. “According to what we learned, Ellie doesn’t work, and Tony worked as a scientist. Retired now.”

“You think they’re using their daughter’s money.” That left a bad taste in my mouth.

“We need to look closer at Katrina’s finances.”

We started for the car. “That living room bugs me,” I said. “It’s a shrine. And I understand they lost their daughter, but she died thirty-one years ago. Took her own life.”

Zac stopped at the car and looked at me from over the roof. “What are you thinking?”

“I got more of a guilt vibe than a mourning vibe.”

Zac looked back at the house. “If they’re living off of her dime, that