James Patterson - #1 Suspect

Del Rio remembered the way Piper had looked yesterday morning, giddy with life. He could still see her in that yellow dress, holding on to her hat, saying her lines in a girlish voice with an Italian accent. He remembered the look of joy on her face when she got into that fast car with Danny.

He tried to remember what Danny had looked like when he’d floored the accelerator, but he couldn’t picture him. Del Rio had been looking at the girl.

Del Rio imagined getting his hands on Danny, knocking his teeth out, breaking the bones in that too-pretty face. He was twenty years older than Danny, but he could still do some damage to a wimpy piece-of-crap kid like that.

Del Rio stood up. He had tears in his eyes as he looked at Piper’s body. Her last minutes had been filled with fear and pain. A nice young girl like that.

“You were having a good day, Piper. A good life. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

Del Rio opened his cell phone and dialed Justine.

Bugs circled Justine’s dying beam. She whacked her flashlight with her palm, and the light flared briefly, then dimmed again.

Damn it.

Justine was pissed at herself for taking Danny’s Mayday call seriously. He’d gotten her and Rick out of bed at four a.m., and now where was Danny?

Run off again with Piper.

Justine was wearing espadrilles, the wrong shoes to be hiking up this obstacle course of a path that started at the back of the cabin and led to only God knew where.

Add that to Danny’s management team: Schuster, Barstow, and Koulos were following her single file, murmuring too softly for her to make out what they were saying to one another. Except that she’d heard her name a couple of times, so she knew they were talking about her.

Blaming her for Danny Whitman’s escapade.

The unbelievable nerve.

The Whitman job was not worth what Private was being paid, not even close, and she was going to do something about that when she got hold of Jack.

Her cell phone rang, an incongruous bar of upbeat music. It had to be Rick saying that he’d found Danny. She hoped that whatever the problem was, it was minor or solved or both.

She dug in her jacket pocket and got her phone in hand just as the path emptied into a clearing. The faint circle of her flashlight beam revealed a heap on the ground.

It was Danny.

He was half naked, barefoot, sitting with his arms locked around his knees, rocking and keening.

What was this now? Was Danny having a tantrum or was he actually in trouble?

Schuster broke past her and ran to Danny, calling his name.

Barstow barked, “Can I have that?”

He snatched her flashlight out of her hand and jogged over to where Schuster had pulled Danny into his arms and was crooning to him, “What’s wrong, buddy? Where does it hurt?”

Justine’s phone was ringing again. She turned her back on the group and put the phone to her ear.

Del Rio was panting and his voice was ragged.

“The girl is dead. I’m coming up the canyon right now. Don’t let Danny leave.”

“What girl? You mean, Piper? Rick? Are you there? ”

Del Rio had clicked off.

Justine sensed movement behind her and she whipped around. Merv Koulos was right there, standing so close she could smell Tic Tac on his breath.

The producer’s homely face was crumpled like a paper bag and he was shouting at her, “Do you see this, Dr. Smith? Danny is having a breakdown. We hired you people to watch him, and now I’ve got a mental case on my hands. My crew is showing up on set tomorrow, and you think Danny’s going to be up for that? Every day that we don’t shoot is three hundred grand right down the-”

“We’ve got a bigger problem, Mr. Koulos. Much bigger.”

“You’re telling me? I’m going to sue you for criminal negligence. I’m going to sue you personally.”

Justine saw Rick’s light bobbing as he reached the top of the incline. She left Koulos in midrant and went to Rick.

He was winded, trying to catch his breath. He gasped, “Looks like Piper was killed by a blow to the head. Could have happened as she fell down the cliff. I can’t tell if she was pushed or what.”

Danny pulled away from his agent and lurched over to Del Rio.

“Pushed? She wasn’t pushed, ” Danny wailed. “We were sleeping. I woke up and she was gone. I went looking for her. She was supposed to be asleep…”

Barstow’s face showed shock. His voice was high, bordering on hysteria when he said to Danny, “I know, Danny, I know. Come back to the house with me. We’ll get some clothes on you. I’ve got Xanax. We’ll take care of this. Come on, Danny.”

Justine stood still, blinking in the dark, trying to absorb Rick’s terrible news.

Piper Winnick was dead in this remote place, and no one had been with her but Danny.

Justine didn’t know Piper, had never met her, but she’d met Danny. And she had contracted for Private to keep him at close range.

He’d ditched them. That was a deal breaker, and she thought that was defensible in court-but what was terrifying her now was the possibility that Danny was capable of violence, and she hadn’t seen that.

Had her ego gotten the best of her? Had she missed a signal that had cost a girl her life?

Schuster and Barstow were trying to move Danny back up the trail, but Danny was resisting, shouting at them that he didn’t want to leave Piper alone.

Koulos was back in Justine’s face. He raged, “And now, because he got away from you, Piper is dead. My movie is dead too. I’m ruined. Ruined.”

Justine was still holding her phone, but her hand was shaking.

“You making the call?” Rick asked her.

She nodded and dialed 911.

Justine had just opened her front door when her phone rang. She hit the light switch in the foyer. Rocky barked, ran to her, and threw himself against her thighs.

She tousled his ears, tossed the car keys onto the console, and checked the caller ID on her phone. It was Danny’s manager, Larry Schuster.

What did he want now? Was this another threat to sue?

She was still shaking from the sickening events of the past few hours: the dead teenage movie star, the threats from Mervin Koulos, and the pitiful arrest of Danny Whitman, who’d kicked and screamed until three cops managed to stuff him into the cruiser.

Justine said hello into the phone.

“Do you still work for us?” Schuster asked.

“You’re kidding, Larry. Danny broke our contract when he drove away from the set-”

“He drove away from the set, but he’s innocent of everything else.”

“Larry, I’m sorry for Danny and sorry for you, but we’re out of this. It’s time you got lawyers involved.”

“Just talk to him. Let him tell you what’s going on.”

“Larry, he’s told me. He feels like someone else is running his life, but as I understand it, no one told him to run off with Piper Winnick this morning-and now she’s dead.”

“They’re seeing each other. They’re involved. They went to sleep and when he woke up, she was gone. He didn’t push her off that cliff. He went looking for her and he found her down there.”

“Maybe the studio’s lawyers are good enough to settle the rape case, Larry, but if Danny were my client, I’d get the best criminal-defense attorney in California. There should be a dozen five-star cannons who would love to defend Danny Whitman. Geragos, Tacopina-”

“I’m at the medical services building at Twin Towers,” Schuster said. “The police left Danny alone for a minute and he took a head-first run at the wall in the interrogation room.”

“Are you kidding? How badly is he hurt?”