Keeper of the Moon - By Harley Jane Kozak Page 0,54
block from the house. The ride from Sailor’s had been short and their conversation minimal because he’d been on the phone doing business most of the way. As they approached the MacAdams’ bungalow on foot, a man walked down the driveway toward them. He was middle-aged, in a checkered shirt and, as an Elven, undoubtedly good-looking under normal circumstances but currently unshaven and hollow-cheeked. He scrutinized Sailor. “You the Keeper?”
“Yes,” she said. She didn’t shake his hand, Declan noticed. She was being careful, in case she was contagious.
“This one,” the man said, nodding to Declan, “says you two are working together, but I’ll talk to you, if you don’t mind. I have no love for shifters. I’m Hank MacAdam.”
Sailor said, “I’m very sorry about your daughter.”
“I don’t care about your sorry,” Hank said. “I care about you doing your job. Come on this way.”
He led them into a two-car garage apparently in the midst of a packing project, with kitchenware and bedding all over the concrete floor. From a cardboard box he pulled out a scrapbook. “We’ve got more of these inside the house. Dozens. Ariel and her mother, they put them together over the years. Those two, they never threw away a single program, kept every play she ever did, every cast photo. It’s all here. Her whole life.”
Sailor said, “Thank you for meeting with us.”
“Well, I don’t want you bothering my wife. She won’t talk to you anyway. Says an Elven Keeper should have done more to keep our girl alive.”
“She’s right,” Sailor said. “I should have. I suppose the police have interviewed you?”
“Yeah. Worthless. They found her way out on Las Virgenes Road. Wanted me to tell them, did she have any friends who lived out there? Hell, no friend of hers did that to my girl. Slept with her, sunk his teeth into her, then watched her bleed to death? I know well enough who did it.”
Sailor threw a startled look at Declan. “Who?”
“Someone on that movie shoot. Some man. Few weeks back, she was spending the night here, came home all excited, said she met someone on the movie who could help her career.”
“What movie?” Declan asked.
“Some stupid thing called Six Corvettes.”
“Did she mention the man’s name?” Sailor asked. “Or what his job was?”
“If she did, it didn’t stick in my head. She was always going on about the grips and the gaffers and the what-nots. All those movie jobs, she knew what all of them were.”
“It wouldn’t be a grip or a gaffer,” Sailor said, “if he was able to help her career. Or an actor, for that matter, unless he was A-list.”
“No, he wasn’t an actor. I think he was more in the business end of things.”
“Where was the movie shooting?” Declan asked.
“Hold on.” Hank walked over and called into the house, “Gigi, you want to come out here a minute?” He turned back to them. “That was the tough part for her. It was on the beach. Not anywhere near the water, of course, or she wouldn’t have been able to do it. Ariel was in the beach-volleyball scene with the star. She was a good little athlete. Said the people were real nice to her, not like you’d expect, treated her real good. Especially the guys. That I can believe.”
The screen door opened, and a young African-American woman came bounding out of the house. Vampire. Early twenties, Declan guessed.
“This is Gigi,” Hank said, putting an arm around her and giving her a squeeze. “She was Ariel’s roommate. Drove all Ariel’s stuff down from Cal Arts this afternoon. All the stuff she and her mom bought for her dorm room three years ago.” His voice wavered. As tough a guy as he was, everyone had his limits, Declan realized.
“Gigi,” Sailor asked, “did Ariel talk to you about the guy she met on Six Corvettes?”
“Yeah, of course. And the cop who came to talk to us on campus, I told him they should look for this guy and the cop was like, ‘Yeah, yeah, sweetie, whatever,’ blowing me off. Stupid were.”
Sailor visibly winced, no doubt at the girl’s casual prejudice, but only said, “He blew you off? That’s crazy. If the victims were all in the film business, that’s probably how this guy met them. What did Ariel tell you about him?”
Gigi took a fast look at Hank, and Declan could see her calculating how much or little to say in front of a grieving father about his little girl. She turned back