Killing America's Sweetheart: A Natalie Miller Mystery (14 page)

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it,” I admitted.

“You should try to get a place on Main Street. That’s where the well to do people frequent. It’s also where all the expensive boutiques are at and the people who shop there are going to be your target demographic.”

Everything Karen said made total sense.
If I wanted to find a nice place, Main Street was where I needed to be. The problem with that idea was the rent was crazy high. My hairdresser that I go to every two months has a shop on Main St. and she was constantly complaining about the prices.

“It might be a bit pricey, but I think in the long run it will be a good move. Anyhow, I could always help you out if you wanted,” she replied.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She sat her beer down and turned to look at me.

“Nat, I could help you, as in be your partner. I know I’m not psychic or anything, but I am good at doing research, which I’m sure you’ll need from time to time, depending on the cases. I had fun the other night, even though I nearly shit my pants, I liked it.”

Karen wanted to be my partner, in crime. I couldn’t think of anyone better or who I’d want more. She had stuck wit
h me through good times and bad. Hell, if I really thought about it, our friendship was much better and more solid than my marriage had ever been. Of course I’d have her as my partner. What more could a wife ask for?

Karen stayed the night, and yes we shared a bed. Since I don’t have room for much more than a futon, there was really no other
option. However, I didn’t mind. Some people may find it strange that two women share a bed, (and are not lesbians) but it doesn’t seem weird at all. When you’ve been friends for as many years as we have, it’s not a big deal.

We
decided to try and look for office space on Main Street and get a feel for the average rate. We knew we didn’t need anything large, just a small space that had room for a couch, desk, computer and maybe a few chairs. We didn’t need anything spectacular, just something functional.

Karen left a little past
7am; I had just finished locking up with plans to hit the shower when there was a loud knock at the door. I thought maybe it was Karen, thinking she may have forgotten something, rushing back to throw open the door, I surprised by who standing in my doorway.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Zack stood with his Starbuck’s cup in hand, looking freshly shaved and shower
ed, while I on the other hand still had my wrinkled t-shirt and mismatched bottoms on.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he replied moving past me and welcoming himself into my place.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He surveyed my repaired door and the apartment and then took me in. My hair was sticking up all over and I still had remains from Mr. Sandman in my eyes.

“I heard you quit Super Thrifty yesterday,” he said eying me with amusement.

I sighed.

“Well, it’s not like I could continue working there. Eric is just too much.”

“I’m glad you quit. You’re better than that place,” he said moving closer to me.

“So, who told you I quit?”

He paused, took a sip of coffee and his eyebrows rose.

“Emma told you?” I asked.

“She heard through the grapevine,” he said slowly swallowing.

Of course she did.

“I suppose I have her to thank for making my decision to quit easier.”

He raised his hand and pushed a strand of hair away from my face.

“What do you mean, you have h
er to thank?” he asked.

Now
, if I was really not a petty woman, I would keep my mouth shut about what she had done. But, since I’ve never claimed to be above it all, I figured it was best to let Zack know just who Emma really was.

“Emma told Eric
I had a drinking problem and that I was also a sex addict,” I said.

Zack looked at me for a moment and then laughed.

“I don’t find any of this funny.”

“Nat, you know she’s
jealous of you. She’s just a tad insecure. I’m sure she meant no harm,” he replied taking me by the shoulders.

“She didn’t mean any harm? Eric rubbed his hard dick on me! He thought I liked that sort of thing! I find it hard to believe she meant no
harm,” I yelled at him.

He released his grip on me and took a step back. I didn’t go into detail last night about what happened at work. I was so rattled by the break-in that it took second place in my immediate worries.

“You didn’t tell me what he did,” he said in a low controlled voice.

“What difference does it make? What’s
done is done. Besides, I’m sure Emma didn’t mean any harm when she told a known sexual predator that I was a sex fiend!”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

I shook my head in furry. What did it matter now? Emma could have gotten me into some serious trouble. She didn’t seem to think twice as to the consequences of her actions.

“It was a good thing Simon arrived when he did. He literally saved me from…well, from whatever might have hap
pened,” I said.

Zack’s face flushed.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll have to thank Simon for saving the day,” he said bitterly.

Our conversation faded to silence and after a few uncomfortable beats Zack finally spoke.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked with concern.

“Funny you should ask
. Karen and I are working out the detail on our new business venture together,” I replied.

“A business venture? What hell could you two possible do together?” he asked in a skeptical tone.

“We’re going to open a psychic detective firm,” I stated hesitantly.

“You’re serious?”

“As a heartbeat,” I replied with growing confidence.

He rubbed his chin and masked a laugh.

“Neither one of you has any experience being a detective. You’re not even licensed. It takes at least three years to be eligible for that,” he replied.

“Ah, you’re right. However, we are not advertising ourselves as private detectives, I’m a psychic detective. There are no exams to pass for that. Anyhow, I’m sure most of the work will be readings with scorned women.”

“I don’t know about you,” he said sighing.

He didn’t know about me? I didn’t know about him. What kind
of man dated a woman like Emma, someone as malicious and cunning as her? He was a cop; I would have thought he would steer clear of someone like her.

“Thankfully, I’m
not your problem. Emma, however is. You’d better tell her to stay the fuck away from me and she’d better never, ever say something like that again,” I replied incensed.

“I’ll handle her, don’t worry. What about Simon? Are you still working for him?” he asked changing the subject.

“Of course I am. I already told you I wasn’t giving up.”

“Do you have any leads you care to share? Maybe something about possibly locating Damien Fields?” he asked in a knowing way.

Damn. How did he know?

“Nope. I really don’t have much, except may
be for the stalker,” I added quickly.

“Scott Chan? What kind of feeling are you getting off that guy? We’ve tried locating him, but haven’t had any luck. He appears to be missing.”

Ah ha! Scott Chan! Zack slipped and gave me Hannah’s stalker’s name. Not that I couldn’t have found that out on my own. I probably could have Googled the arrest and found his name that way. It was just nice to have it come from an officer of the law.

“I feel like he’s worth exploring,” I said
vaguely.

Zack nodded and then looked at his watch.

“I need to get going. Listen,” he said as he paused, “I’m sorry about what happened. You have to know that. I plan on having a long talk with Emma too.”

I smiled
half-heartedly.

“Just keep her away from
me Zack. I don’t want any more trouble.”

He nodded his head and slipped out the door.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Since
I had no place to be, I decided to power up my laptop and see if I could find any dirt on Scott Chan. I loved the internet. It was so stalker friendly. Seriously, there was nothing that couldn’t be found, and if someone with basic skills couldn’t acquire the sought after details, then it was always good to have a computer savvy brother. My brother Alex just happened to be a tech genius. But before giving him a call, I was determined to get as much information as possible on my own.

As I typed in Scott’s name I was
inundated with way too many options. I decided to narrow down the search by adding in the county and see what that brought up. Bingo. A surprisingly small article from about six months ago appeared detailing his arrest and the restraining order which was granted. The story didn’t give too much information about the reasons for the restraining order, just vague references to following Hannah and showing up at Simon’s uninvited. The only other interesting piece was that Scott was a resident of Bike City.

Finding nothing too scandalous, I decided to check Facebook and that’s where I found the good stuff. Thankfully Scott did not have his privacy controls set too high, so I was able to peruse his page with free reign. According to his information, Scott was a gay
, 34 year old Asian male, who worked as a scientific researcher for a private company. His profile picture looked very business-like, a clean cut guy, with hipster framed glasses sitting at restaurant patio. Nothing too shocking with that, however when I clicked on his photos that’s where the money shots were. The photos were titled Drag Queen Cruise, and in them I could see a barely recognizable Scott dressed as Hannah! The similarities were striking. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought it was her. In a caption it read, “Had a fabulous time at my second job! Can’t believe I get paid to perform as my idol!!”

Holy shit. Scott was a drag queen impersonator of Hannah!
My surprise quickly subsided after I chewed on it for a moment. Hannah had always been a big gay rights activist, as her sister Molly was a lesbian. She also did a number of Broadway musicals in her early days, combine the two and you have a perfect mix for a LBGT cult following!

I opened up another search window and tried
to find an address for Scott, but came up short. That’s when another thought occurred, and I reached for my phone.

“Thank you for calling the Bike City
Library, how may I help you?”

“Karen? Can you talk? Are you busy?” I asked with anticipation.

“I heard her cover the mouth piece and mumble something and then she came back on.

“Sorry, I had to finish helping a customer. What’s up?” she asked breathlessly.

“I need a favor from you.”

“Okay?” she replied in form of a question. “Does this involve any kind of seedy establishments and possible use of weapons?”

“No,” I laughed.

“Oh. Well, now I’m bored.”

“Listen, I need you to look someone up in the patron records and get an address for me,” I asked.

“Shit. You know that’s against confidentiality rules?” she said in a whisper.

“I know. But I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. It’s Hannah’s stalker, he’s a Bike City resident, and since pretty much everyone in town has a library card, I figured he’d be no different.”

There was silence on the other end, and finally I heard her say, “What’s his name?”

I gave Karen his name and within seconds she had an address for me.

“Do you know where he lives?” she asked.

“No, but I’ll find it,” I replied as I jotted down the information.

“I could go, but I have to work until nine.”

Crap. I didn’t want to wait, I felt like I needed to get this out of the way.

“That’s okay. I need to check this out. I need to find him before the police do.”

“Nat, don’t go alone. Take Simon with you,” she replied with concern.

I had promised to call him this morning. Hopefully he felt like a little adventure.

Simon was more than happy to accompany me to Scott Chan’s house. He picked me up and off we went in his modest (for a Hollywood star) Toyota pickup. Thanks to the GPS on my phone we easily found the home. Nestled on an average street, with heavily covered autumn leaves, was a clean and simple bungalow style home with a blue Prius in the driveway.

“That’s his car. I remember seeing it near the house,” Simon said.

A stalker who was also ecofriendly? Now that was a first.

We got out and walked up the newly paved path to the front door. As we stepped onto the porch I noticed a
Jack-O-Lantern carved in the likeness of Hannah. Creepy.

Before we were able to ring the doorbell, t
he door opened quickly and we were face to face with Scott Chan.