The Cinderella Murder

33

Jerry snapped his seat belt closed and started the engine of the van. “Take one more look at that amazing view,” he said, “because I think that was the only reason to drive up here.”

“No kidding,” Grace said, leaning forward from the backseat. “That was a total bust. Talk about a cold fish.”

So Laurie was not the only one who had noticed that Nicole hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with her memories of Susan Dempsey.

Jerry used his turn signal, despite the absence of any oncoming traffic, and pulled away from the curb. “It’s like she wasn’t even there.”

“I agree,” Laurie said. “She did seem a bit distracted.”

“No, I mean, like she wasn’t even there at UCLA,” Jerry said. “She didn’t stay in touch with her friends. She didn’t offer any stories about Susan other than how nice she was to her. All she wanted to do was talk about everyone else: how strange it was that Frank Parker wanted to meet Susan at his home, how hungry Madison was for fame, how Susan had caught her boyfriend flirting with other girls multiple times. It’s like she wanted us to focus on everyone else except her.”

Laurie was trying to figure out why Nicole might have held back with them when her thoughts were interrupted by her cell phone. It was her father.

“Is everything okay, Dad?”

“All good. I think we’ve got Timmy on a decent schedule after the flight west. He slept until seven thirty, had a big breakfast at the hotel restaurant, then we went down to Fisherman’s Wharf for lunch and had a whole platter of fish and chips.”

“You know you’re not supposed to eat that stuff.” Only last year, her father had been rushed to Mount Sinai Hospital with cardiac fibrillation. Two stents in his right ventricle later, he was now supposed to keep a heart-healthy diet.

“No worries, Dr. Laurie. I got grilled halibut and salad. And-in full disclosure-four french fries.”

“I suppose we can let that slide. We’re on our way back to the hotel now. Dinner at Mama Torini’s?” Laurie had visited San Francisco with her parents when she was considering applying to Stanford twenty years ago. Her best memories of the trip were of Leo locking Laurie’s mother in a cell at Alcatraz and dinner at Mama Torini’s, with its red-and-white-checked tablecloths and heaping portions of fettuccine Alfredo prepared tableside. “I think Timmy would love it.”

“Great minds think alike. That’s why I was calling. I made a reservation at seven. Figured that was as late as we could push it with Timmy but knew you were working.”

Even with Timmy and her father here, she was having a hard time juggling her schedule to see them. She assured her father she’d be back to the hotel within the hour and hung up.

Grace was leaning forward from the backseat again, fiddling with her phone. “Remember that site Who’s Dated Who?” she asked.

“Whom,” Jerry corrected. “Who’s Dated Whom. I’m going to write them an e-mail, demanding that they add an ‘m.’ ”

“Well, I looked up Susan’s high school sweetheart, Keith Ratner. Get a load of this.” She began rattling off a long list of names of women who had been linked to the B-list actor over the years.

“I think I’ve only heard of two of those people,” Laurie said. They were both actresses a good ten years younger than Keith.

“Oh, he’s in no position to land anyone famous anymore,” Grace said. “But my point is that the list is long. Rosemary and Nicole both said he cheated on Susan. Guess a player’s always a player.”

“But cheating’s not the same as killing someone,” Jerry said.

“No,” Grace said, “but if she caught him? I could picture it. Keith could’ve been driving her up to the audition either hoping to get a part for himself or making sure Frank didn’t try to get handsy with his girl. If Susan confronted him about cheating, they could have gotten into a fight. She gets mad and storms out of the car. I know I’ve done it. He starts chasing her. They fight, and things get out of control.”

It wasn’t a bad theory. It would explain how Susan had wound up near Laurel Canyon Park while her car was found on campus.

Jerry stopped at a red light. “Too bad Keith has an alibi, and we don’t have any evidence.”

“It’s like that old game Clue,” Laurie said, thinking about playing the game with her son at home. “We look at every possible theory and try to poke holes in each one. When there’s only one theory standing, we might actually have some answers.”

“And that’s where our dreamy host, Alex Buckley, comes in,” Grace said. “Speaking of which, let’s type his name in here and see what we find. Ooh, he’s no Keith Ratner, but he’s not exactly a monk.” Grace began reading names from Who’s Dated Who. Laurie recognized more than a few: a model, an actress, an opera singer, a morning news anchor.

The light turned green, and Jerry took a right turn. Laurie was so distracted by Grace’s babble that she did not notice that the cream-colored pickup truck that had been parked on Nicole’s street was now taking the same turn behind them.