Poppy Harmon and the Pillow Talk Killer by Lee Hollis (famous ebook reader .txt) 📗

“No,” Matt said. “Is something wrong?”

She didn’t bother answering him. Instead, she made a mad dash over to Trent, who had now joined the conversation between the gaffer and cinematographer. “Hal drove out here ahead of me, his car is in the crew lot, so he’s around here somewhere but I can’t find him.”

Trent sighed, irked by Greta’s interruption. “I haven’t seen him. Maybe he’s visiting with one of the actors in their trailer.”

Greta suddenly registered a look of alarm. “Well, that would be a disaster in the making, now wouldn’t it?”

Trent finally saw the implication of Hal Greenwood somewhere on the loose unsupervised. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“So why don’t you have the assistant director call all the PAs and have them spread out and find him.”

“Got it,” Trent said, hustling off to find his AD, who was at the moment nowhere in sight.

“Why do you think everybody is so nervous?” Matt asked.

“Hal Greenwood’s reputation has been an open secret in Hollywood for years,” Poppy said before adding bluntly, “He’s a sexual predator.”

“Oh . . .” Matt whispered, wide-eyed.

“From what I heard from some of my old friends still working in the business, there is a long list of actresses who have worked for Greenwood over the years, all of whom were bought off with fat settlements and silenced by ironclad nondisclosure agreements.”

A thought abruptly popped into Poppy’s head. “You stay here, I’m going to go check on Danika.”

“What for? She dismissed us.”

“I know, but if Hal Greenwood is on the prowl, I’d feel much better knowing he’s not trying to worm his way into her trailer. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to her.”

Poppy scurried off toward the row of trailers that housed the cast located several hundred feet from the main set and opposite the rest of the trailers for makeup, hair, wardrobe, and production. Since today’s schedule did not involve any crowd scenes, the cast area was almost deserted. Poppy glanced around for any sign of Hal, but found none. When she reached the first trailer, the biggest one reserved for the star, she stepped up on the rickety stairs attached to the aluminum-sided trailer and rapped on the door with Danika’s name printed in the middle of a yellow star.

There was no answer.

Poppy tried again, knocking her fist harder against the metal door. “Danika? Are you in there? It’s me, Poppy. I need to speak with you!”

Still no answer.

Suddenly from behind her, she heard someone say, “I don’t think she’s in there.”

Poppy spun around to find Timothy, the production assistant. “What makes you say that?”

“I mean, she could be. Maybe she’s got headphones on listening to music, but when I brought Mr. Greenwood by just a few minutes ago, she didn’t answer.”

Poppy’s heart nearly jumped in her throat. “You brought Hal here to Danika’s trailer?”

“Yup, he wanted to see her about something. He knocked and knocked but she never opened the door. He finally got frustrated and stormed off mad.”

Worried, Poppy whacked on the door a few more times.

Still nothing.

She tried the door handle.

It was unlocked.

She wasn’t sure if she should just barge in, especially if Danika was napping, or with someone, or just wanted to be left alone. But it was not as if Poppy was in any danger of displeasing her client; the girl had just fired her.

So she just went for it and swung open the door.

The lights were on inside the roomy trailer and the TV was broadcasting the E! Entertainment channel and some fluffy report on Lizzo’s upcoming concert tour.

Poppy’s eyes scoured the room until they settled on someone lying on top of the bed. She instantly recognized the cute patterned strapless T-shirt dress Danika had been wearing when they last saw her. There was a pillow over her face, which caused a dreaded feeling of déjà vu deep within Poppy.

Timothy called from outside the trailer, “Is everything okay in there?”

Poppy raced over and removed the pillow and tossed it to the floor. Danika’s empty, glassy eyes stared up at Poppy. Her mouth was open and contorted as if she had been screaming at the top of her lungs as someone snuffed the life out of her with the pillow.

Everything was definitely not okay.

Because Danika Delgado was unmistakably dead.

Chapter 15

Poppy had been so shaken and unsettled by her stumbling upon the lifeless body of Danika Delgado sprawled out with a pillow over her face that she had nearly fainted dead on the spot. Matt swooped in to catch her and half escorted, half carried her out of the trailer while Greta Van Damm, who was quickly called to the scene by Timothy the production assistant, took charge and called 911.

Matt gently led Poppy over to a nearby director’s chair and had her sit down. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. This was highly unusual for her to react in such a dramatic way. After all, this was not the first time she had seen a dead body let alone a crime scene in the time since opening the Desert Flowers Detective Agency. But it was the strong sense of déjà vu that was overwhelming her, and Matt quickly picked up on it.

“What is it, Poppy? What has you so spooked?” Matt asked, clasping her hand, trying to offer her some comfort.

Poppy shook her head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“But—”

“Please, Matt. Not now.”

Her tone was firm and Matt relented and asked no further questions. Poppy knew she would have to explain everything at some point, but was not emotionally prepared to do so just yet.

Remarkably, the police arrived within twenty minutes followed closely by the county forensics team. The set was swarming with law enforcement, and Poppy recognized the head honcho running the entire show immediately. Detective Lamar Jordan, primary detective with the Riverside County Central Homicide Unit. He was tall, handsome, African American, outspoken and charismatic. Poppy had met him on a number of occasions, and although she could not claim that