Killing America's Sweetheart: A Natalie Miller Mystery (15 page)

“Look, I don’t mean to rude, but I have already found religion, I don’t have carpets in my home,
I get all my magazines on my Kindle and I’m happy with my TV provider,” said a tall, thin Asian man in black skinny jeans, and a purple button down shirt. The guy also had amazing bone structure, with cheek bones most women would kill for.

I looked to Simon and we exchanged glances. Apparently, this was not the welcome we were expecting.

“Oh, my God!” he squealed. “You’re Simon Bellamy! My queen’s king!” he said suddenly growing somber and making the sign of the cross. “May she rest in peace, my beautiful queen,” he continued, eyes growing misty.

Was this guy for real?

“Ah, we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions,” I responded trying to break the uncomfortable pause.

“Of course! Come right in,” he said a little too giddy.

Simon stopped for a moment before entering and gave me an intense stare.

“Just go with it,” I mumbled and followed Scott inside to
ward his living room.

Living room is what I presumed it must be, except for the fact that it was littered with tons of
memorabilia from some of Hannah’s biggest movies. Cardboard cutouts from Fight or Flight, lunch boxes, towels, t-shirts, dolls, posters, autographed photos and a strange little shrine near the fireplace, where a more recent photo of Hannah sat in the middle surrounded by candles.

“I’m kind of a big fan,” he replied after seeing the amazement in our eyes.

No shit. Immediately upon looking at his stalker’s booty, I felt instantly uncomfortable. How could someone be this devoted to a virtual stranger? Is it even healthy? It can’t be. How much money, time and energy had he devoted to his ‘queen’?

‘It’s not him,’
Gilles stated.

Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up. If it isn’t my long lost spirit guide who’s currently on my shit list. Gilles had to be the worst of them all. What good was he to me, if I had to do all the leg work and he only
chimed in when he felt like it? He was making me look like as asshole, or worst yet a fraud. How could I try to make a business with my abilities, if my silent partner was MIA half the time?

‘How do you know it’s not him’ I asked.

‘Because he wasn’t even in town. He was on his cruise for the past two weeks,’
Gilles responded.

“So, how did you hear about the murder?” I asked.

Scott stared at me with trepidation.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name?” he said cautiously.

Obviously, the guy wasn’t dumb.

“Scott, this is Natalie Miller, she’s a psychic detective I’ve hired to help solve Hannah’s murder,” Simon stated.

“Oooh! I love it! A real psychic and a detective to boot! This is just too much!” Scott cooed in excitement.

“So, how did you learn about Hannah’s death?” I asked again.

“Honey, I heard about it on the cruise. It was the worst day of my life. Imagine, there I was in the middle of the Pacific ocean dressed up as Hannah in full on drag, while the real Hannah was plastered on all the TV’s with the headline reading HOLLYWOOD STAR MURDERED. It was awful, simply awful I tell you,” he cried as he moved next to Simon and threw his arms around him.

“Sugar, you must be devastated. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. However, if you need a shoulder to cry on, my door is always open,” he
said in a wicked tone to Simon as he released him from his grasp.

I watched Simon’s face grow
incredibly uncomfortable.

             
“Ah, how long were you on the cruise?” I asked trying to change to subject for Simon’s sake.

             
“It was a two week gig and I returned last night,” he replied.

             
That eliminated him from the list of suspects. If he had been gone for two weeks and just returned there was no way he was the killer. He would have already been gone by the time Hannah was murdered.

             
Seeing as there was nothing else we could gleam from Scott, I figured it was a good idea to make our exit. I was pretty sure Simon was ready to go too.

             
“Thank you so much for speaking to us,” I said with sincerity, grabbing Simon by the arm and steering him toward the front door.

             
“You’re leaving so soon?” Scott asked with a pout.

             
“We have a lot of things to take care of,” Simon responded, trying to sound regretful.

             
“Darn. Oh, well. Look, I just want you to know that I loved Hannah. I thought she was a beautiful and talented human being. I never wished any harm to her; I only wanted to know her. The stalking charge and restraining order were things I wish I could take back. I was just so excited to have my favorite celebrity living within 10 miles of me, I couldn’t stand it. I only wanted to meet her. I’m very sorry if I caused either of you any fear or discomfort. It was never my intention,” Scott said with total honesty.

             
Gilles was right, it wasn’t him. I didn’t even need special abilities to know it. By just looking at him, it was easy to see that he was telling the truth.

             
As we were driving away both of us were silent. I was about to speak when my phone rang.

             
“Hello?” I asked.

             
“Natalie? It’s Debbie. Are you free to talk?”

             
“Oh, yeah. How are you?” I asked.

             
“Okay, it super busy without you at work, but Eric’s already hired a new girl. She’s supposed to start sometime next week.”

             
I was already being replaced, out with the old, in with the new. Seemed like an ongoing theme in my life.

             
“Anyhow, are you free for lunch tomorrow?” she asked.

             
I thought for a moment and decided there was nothing urgent on the table I needed to handle.

             
“That sounds good, where and when?” I said.

             
We decided on Judy’s BBQ on Main Street. An amazing place where they serve any kind BBQ item you can think of. My mouth was salivating just thinking of it, and my stomach was growling too.

             
“Wow, was that you?” Simon asked with a smile.

             
“I’m a little hungry,” I responded with embarrassment.

             
“How about we stop for a bite to eat?” he asked.

             
There was no way I could turn down a meal. I was far too famished to play coy. I needed some food in me before I became an angry monster.

Simon drove to a small Ital
ian restaurant in downtown Bike City, where we were seated quickly. I gathered he was just as starved as I, as he wasted no time studying the menu and ordered the chicken pasta primavera with a side salad. I decided on the Chicken Alfredo with a salad too. We made all the pleasant small talk chit-chat, but soon found ourselves in a lull.

             
“So, can you read me?” Simon asked sheepishly.

             
I felt my stomach do a summersault. I hated when people asked me to read them on the spot. I had spent my life picking up so many personal pieces of information that I learned to train myself to block out most of the normal interference that comes my way. Some people claim to get constant chatter coming through their mind, like a radio station, but it doesn’t work like that for me. All I hear is Gilles rattling off words and showing me symbols. Since my little slip a few years ago, Gilles has become quieter and mostly appears when I ask. Rarely does he offer up information without my request.

             
“Why do you want me to read you?” I asked.

             
“I’d just like to see what you already know about me,” he replied taking a sip of his merlot.

             
I looked down for a moment and sent a mental request to Gilles and within seconds I heard ‘troubled past’ with a photo of an older man and woman, ‘fighting with siblings’ and a dollar sign symbol, ‘lonely’ and ‘guilt’ with an image of Hannah.

             
“Okay, apparently you have a troubled past, possibly with an older man and woman, who I am going assume are your parents. There was also a lot of fighting with your siblings and I feel like money was a big issue there. I also see that you feel a great deal of guilt when it comes to Hannah, but I’m not clear as to why,” I said finally raising my eyes to him.

             
“That’s a bit vague,” he said with a smile.

             
Gilles wasn’t done, he continued, ‘parents fought over money’ with an image of a younger Simon crying as he hears them argue, ‘divorce’ echoes loudly, ‘sisters tried to blackmail’ showing a passport, ‘guilt for never loving Hannah,’ accompanied by a yellow rose.

             
“I’m not done,” I said a bit annoyed. “Your parents battled a lot over money. I feel like it wasn’t just typical financial issues, this was about the money you made. It had to do with you. They ended up divorcing because of their bitter difference. I also get that your sisters at some point might have tried or did blackmail you, and I see a passport with this information. As for the guilt issue, you never loved Hannah, you cared about her, but it was more of a companionship for you, which is why I see a yellow rose.”

             
Simon sat silent with his mouth open.

             
“Was that more detail oriented for you?” I said feeling more spot-on this time.

             
“I don’t know what to say,” he began. “You’re right about everything. My parents fought constantly after I made my first film at age 12. The money was so mad and it just kept pouring in, along with other offers. Soon my father began taking up expensive hobbies like racing and gambling, and my mother started shopping and taking vacations around the world. Whenever the money started to dry up, they’d sign me up for another project. Half the time I didn’t even want to do it, but after a while I began to enjoy working and being away from home. By the time I was 16, they had divorced and my father won custody of me and brought me over here to the States, where I’ve been ever since. Later on my sisters Maggie and Sophie extorted money from me, when they heard from my mother that I had only married Bebe for a green card. They demanded a million dollars each and I paid them. It’s one of the many reasons why we stayed married for so long. We just didn’t want anyone to think that it wasn’t real. That and we both became comfortable with our situation. Anyhow, as for Hannah…well, you’re right. I didn’t love her. I cared for her, but my feelings were never strong. Now that she is dead I feel a tremendous sense of guilt.”

             
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” I said suddenly feeling like I violated his privacy.

             
“No, don’t be. I asked for it. I guess I wasn’t prepared for what you were going to say,” he added softly.

             
The waitress brought us our salads and refreshed our drinks. After she left I sat, picking at my plate. Why did I say those things? Hadn’t I learned by now to keep my mouth shut?

             
“What’s the deal with you and Detective Reynolds?” he asked, as if my reading had never taken place.

             
“Zack? Oh, well we’ve known each other since we were kids,” I said carefully.

             
“It appears you two know each other better than that,” he hedged.

             
Man, I really did not want to get on this topic.

             
“Yeah, it’s a bit complicated,” I replied taking a bite of salad.

             
“So, you dated then?” he pushed.

             
“Not exactly.”

             
Simon sat giving me his full attention, eye brows raised, encouraging me to continue.

             
“We had a very brief encounter. It was clearly a mistake, and that’s pretty much it,” I said feeling my cheeks flush.

             
“You had a one night stand with him?” he asked incredulously.

             
“Yes,” I responded.

             
Simon laughed lightly and took a sip of wine.

             
“Why are you laughing?” I asked suddenly feeling mortified.

              “I just would never have pegged you as someone who’d have one.”

             
“Well, it was a few years ago, and I was a completely different person,” I said feeling a bit offended.

             
“What do mean by that?” he asked with interest.

             
I didn’t want to tell him my life story. However, I did just reveal some very intimate details of his own life, so maybe he needed to feel more secure with me?