MARY CLARK - The Cinderella Murder

The first camera to appear overlooked the entryway. Laurie Moran was walking toward the front door. He recognized the man behind her as Alex Buckley, the show’s host.

Dwight used the right-arrow key to flip through the cameras situated around the house.

The assistant, Grace, was coming out of one of the bedrooms on the second floor, singing an old disco song. The others were all finishing breakfast in the kitchen, the child asking whether they’d have time for a trip to Disneyland. The surveillance equipment—built into the walls, completely undetectable—was working flawlessly. Dwight had had the system installed in all his properties for extra security, but now it would be serving another role.

Dwight wouldn’t be going to Los Angeles until this weekend, but for all practical purposes, he was right there with the production team. And once the summit sessions began, he’d be able to see and hear everything.

40

Laurie led the way to the their black SUV. In addition to the Land Cruiser, they had also rented a full-size van for production use, and a separate sedan for Leo and Timmy to tool around in. She dangled the keys as she walked. “Would you care to drive, or should I?”

“Your choice.”

“I’ve never driven in Los Angeles before. I suppose I should at least try it. If I feel like I’m putting our lives in danger, I’ll pull over and we can switch.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Alex said, “though I’d be more worried about the life of any driver stupid enough to upset you.”

“I’ll admit, I can be a tough customer,” Laurie laughed. “I’ll try to avoid any road-rage incidents.”

She had already entered their destination into the GPS. Once they were both belted in, she started the engine for the short drive to Westwood.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a driver,” Alex said.

“Says the man with the butler,” she said wryly. “Seriously, have you not met Brett Young? He has been all over me about the budget for this episode. It’s not cheap to shoot in California. I think we can manage our own driving.”

“That house certainly doesn’t look like budget-friendly lodging.”

“Funny you should mention that. Jerry just told me this morning that it belongs to Dwight Cook. We’re using it free of charge.”

“You sound irritated.”

“It’s fine. I just know that Jerry had a hundred opportunities to mention that detail a little earlier.”

“But then you might have said no, and he’d be back to trying to find a space big enough to house us all, and suitable for filming, all on the studio budget. As they say, better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

“You’re right. I think it’s hard for me sometimes to see Jerry as someone other than the skinny intern who used to fetch coffee.”

“It’s not my business, but from what I’ve seen, he’s a far cry from that. He’s very good at his job.”

“I know. Sending you to meet with Keith today is a perfect example. He and Madison are status conscious. They live in a world where their worth is measured daily by how fast the valet at the Ivy fetches their car. He’s not exactly A-list, but he’d run right over Jerry and Grace.”

“No one runs over Grace,” Alex said.

“True.”

“Where are we meeting him?”

“A little bookstore in Westwood. From what I read online, it seems like an alternative kind of place—counterculture stuff.”

“Why there? I thought he said he was at some church thing the night Susan was murdered.”

She should have known that Alex would have fully reviewed all the case materials. “Yes, at least allegedly . But the church wasn’t exactly a church yet. It was fledgling. A bit fringy, if you ask me. At the time, Keith told police he was at a discussion group at the bookstore. Once the police investigated further, they learned that it was a meeting for some group called Advocates for God.”

Several group members vouched for Keith’s whereabouts at the time of Susan’s murder, but, based on what Laurie knew about the church, she wondered if they might be so insular as to cover for one another.

“They’ve come a long way since holding recruiting meetings at indie bookstores,” Alex said. “Isn’t it a big West Coast megachurch now?”

“And how do you think they got there?” she asked. “Money. They say they ‘advocate for God’s goodness’ ”—she added air quotes for good measure—“but they’re all about raising money. Supposedly it all goes to serving the poor, but you’ve got to wonder. Meanwhile, the church’s members seem to follow along blindly.”

“And that’s why you said Keith allegedly has an alibi for Susan’s murder.”

“Exactly. Admittedly, at the time, Ratner was a starving actor and was only just beginning with AG. If he was involved in Susan’s murder, I don’t see why the church would stick its neck out to cover for him.”

“In the lawyering world, we call what you’re doing arguing with yourself.”

“I know. I can look at every suspect and think they’re completely innocent, then, in the blink of an eye, picture them chasing poor Susan into that park. Even her friend Nicole was acting completely out of sorts when we spoke to her, like she was hiding something. I can see why the police were never able to solve the case.”

“Hey, don’t get frustrated yet. We’re just getting started.”

• • •

The tiny store was crammed floor to ceiling with books, many of them used. A whiteboard behind the cash register listed upcoming events. That night, an author would be signing copies of his book Legalize Everything .

The sole employee sported a bushy beard that made it difficult to estimate his age. “You guys looking for a coffee shop or something?”

So she wasn’t alone in thinking that she and Alex looked out of place here. Fortunately, the jingle of the bell on the front door interrupted the moment. Laurie could tell from Keith Ratner’s expression that he immediately recognized Alex from television.

“I didn’t think we were shooting today.” He ran his fingers through his tousled dark hair.

“We’re not,” she explained. “But Alex wanted the opportunity to meet you before the cameras are on.”

Alex offered a handshake. “Hey, Keith, good to meet you. I was a huge fan of Judgment Calls .” Keith Ratner had played a young prosecutor in the short-lived courtroom drama.

“Thanks for meeting us,” Laurie said. “And before I forget, we have the location for next week’s summit session. It’s a house not too far from here.” She handed him a piece of paper with the Bel Air address on it.

“No problem,” he said, slipping the address into the front pocket of his jeans. “Wow. This store hasn’t changed at all. Talk about a blast from the past.”

“You haven’t been here for a while?” Laurie asked.

“I only came here twice, I think, both for events.”

“Advocates for God events, you mean.”

“Sure. Does that matter?”

“Only if your church members were backing you up because you share the same religion.”

“So much for a little friendly conversation.” He looked to Alex for help, but Alex pretended to browse a shelf labeled HAIKU AND TANKA. “The only reason I was ever under suspicion in the first place was because Rosemary never liked me. I had six different people confirm to the police I was with them all night—first here at the store, then we went out for coffee. But because we were part of a new church people didn’t understand, it’s like our word didn’t count.”

“Sorry, Keith, this isn’t about oppressing you for your belief system. You have to admit, when we spoke on the phone, you tried to deflect attention onto anyone but you.”