Revealing Annie - Freya Barker Page 0,60
probably not a bad idea I talk to you first.”
“Wanna beer while you talk?”
“Little early. I’ll take water if you have it.”
I go inside and grab a water for him and a fresh beer for me. I don’t give a damn about the time.
“So what’s up? Got some news for us?”
He cracks the top on the water bottle and takes a sip.
“We’re looking for Will Parsons. According to the old man next to Annie’s trailer, he hasn’t seen the pickup truck in the driveway for a couple of days. He was able to describe Parson’s company logo, which matches what Annie detailed, but he’d seen Parson stick them on. Said they were those magnetic decals you can get.
“I talked to the park manager, who was able to give me a phone number but it went straight to voicemail. The manager said last time he saw Parsons, he mentioned something about a mountain property north of Lemon Reservoir he’d be working on. Reception can be tricky up there.”
“Convenient,” I mumble, putting the bottle to my lips to take a sip.
“Also,” Tony says, ignoring me. “Annie’s agent is a piece of work.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“No, but we finally got those police reports from LA, and received a call from the detective on file shortly after. He wanted to know what we wanted with the reports and when I told him, he was upset. Turns out her agent, Miles Coxwell, had told the detective Annie had a history of mental health problems. He had evidence she’d spent a month in a mental health facility in Arizona the year before. Said she was on Prozac and seeing a psychiatrist regularly. That she was unstable.”
A surge of anger on Annie’s behalf has me on my feet so abruptly, Daisy—who’d been dozing in front of me—jumps up, suddenly alert.
“That’s bullshit.”
“Sumo,” Tony says in a calming tone. “He was shown documents, confirmed their legitimacy. He said the guy was convincing, so he brushed off Annie’s complaints as another Hollywood nutcase creating drama where there was none. He says he hadn’t thought about the case until he saw our request for the reports.”
“He’s wrong.” I’m agitated, pacing back and forth; until Daisy’s confused whimper has me bend down to scratch her behind the ears. “She’s not some mental case.”
“You know he’s wrong, and I know it, but he went with the word of a reputable Hollywood agent. Look,” he adds. “It wouldn’t have been the first time a celebrity creates hype to boost their career.”
I hear a car door close and an engine start up, as I let my eyes drift to the river and try to process the information. The Annie I know is happy baking pastries for a grocery store. She sits on a concrete floor reading books to traumatized dogs. She’s far from an attention-seeker. On the contrary.
“That’s not Annie.”
“Clearly,” he agrees immediately. “Which brings us to Coxwell.”
I turn around, leaning against the railing.
“Why?”
“Good question.”
“I don’t get what he has to gain by derailing that investigation,” I think out loud. “Unless he was responsible in the first place.”
Tony drains his bottle and stands up, just as my phone starts buzzing in my pocket.
“That’s what we’re looking to find out.”
Annie
“…evidence she’d spent a month in a mental health facility in Arizona the year before. Said she was on Prozac and seeing a psychiatrist regularly. That she was unstable.”
I fight to keep the tears at bay as I jam my keys in the ignition. I’ll cry later.
I’d just walked into the kitchen for something to drink when I heard those words. They knocked the wind right out of me.
Unstable.
That label I’d heard one too many times triggered my feet into moving toward the front door. I’d grabbed the plastic bag that now held the contents of my purse, and snuck out the front door.
I’m on automatic pilot, navigating the roads, the fear for my stalker drowned out by the pain of betrayal. Again.
My God, just when I’d started to believe there might be light at the end of my tunnel, I find myself sucked back into the shadows.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am unbalanced, why else would I find myself turning toward the one place I knew I’d find no judgment?
Sumo
I pull my phone from my pocket when it starts buzzing for the second time.
In front of me Tony opens the gate and I grab hold of Daisy’s collar while I answer.
“Hey, Jasper,” I answer, having spotted his name on the screen.
“Everything okay?” Jasper asks.
“Yeah, Ramirez