Murder at the Academy Awards (R): A Red Carpet Murder Mystery by Joan Rivers & Farmer Jerrilyn

Author:Joan Rivers & Farmer, Jerrilyn [Farmer, Jerrilyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2009-02-03T08:00:00+00:00

15

Best Performance

Two hours later, we were all completely exhausted. Malulu and Barry had fanned out across Wilshire Boulevard after having checked out every single building and alleyway on this side, while Drew and I had literally bent down and looked under every car parked in a six-block area.

“Mom,” Drew said, looking at her watch. “I have been getting calls all morning from Wonders. They think you are a no-show. Even our interventionist thinks you’ve gone into deep denial again. I know this is breaking your heart about Killer, but maybe we should leave. Just hear me out. We can be in Pasadena in an hour. Malulu will find Killer…”

I stared at her.

“Okay, I know. You can’t leave. But Killer might hide out for hours and hours. And the time…” Drew shook her head in frustration. “Don’t you realize that Burke is just hanging by a thread? I’ve gotten six texts already. The police are looking for him, Mom. They’ve been over to his dad’s office. They went to his sister’s house in Calabasas. They’ve gone out to Manhattan Beach and talked to all his friends that have houses there. And now that Killer has run off, you are clearly unable to focus on our plan to help Burke.”

We were seated again in the back of the limo, taking a break from the search, sharing a bottle of Voss water from the minifridge in one of the bars. I held a cut-crystal glass filled with ice and water against my hot forehead. “We’ll find Killer pretty soon. God willing. He’s a very good boy. I don’t believe for a minute he would run into the street. He’s probably nearby, just calming down.” I prayed that what I was saying was true. He was a good boy. But the V-E-T had unnerved him.

“I hope so,” Drew said, sipping straight from the clear-glass bottle.

“And I promised I would help your friend. A promise is a promise.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“Hey, Ms. Taylor,” said Barry, poking his head into the parked Hummer limo in the lot behind the vet’s, where we were sitting with the back doors wide-open. “Don’t worry. We’ll find your little guy. We’ve been up and down these streets like a hundred times, but we’ll keep looking. Your bodyguard, Malulu, has been going door-to-door, telling everyone to call her cell number if they see him, but nobody has. I told her to take a break, but she just won’t stop.”

“They build them hearty in Samoa,” I said.

Barry nodded. “Anyway, I’m going right back out. I just wanted to let you know what’s up.” He ran his hand through his thick, brown hair. No matter how many hours he’d been chasing around in the heat of the day, his gel stood up to the torture. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” he said for the third time that morning. “I could kick myself. I should have grabbed Killer when I had a shot. Damn.”

“Here, sit down. Take a rest.”

“We’ll find him soon,” he said, climbing into the back of the limo and sitting opposite us, where I suggested.

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