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

and saw a spring protruding up through the worn upholstery of the lumpy cushion. She swung back around and smiled. “No, thank you, I prefer standing.”

Byron shrugged. “Suit yourself. I feel so lucky that I was able to find Danika and have a real moment with her before she . . .” Tears pooled in Byron’s eyes. “I can’t even talk about it.”

Poppy and Matt exchanged curious glances. Byron seemed genuinely broken up over the fact Danika was dead. Although it could all still be a well-orchestrated act to throw suspicion off himself.

“Byron, how did you manage to track down Danika at the resort where she was shooting her movie?” Poppy asked gently.

“Oh, that was easy!” Byron excitedly said, snapping out of his melancholy mood. “I follow her on Instagram. She was posting selfies and videos all the time. Of course, she would never be stupid enough to come out and say where she was, I mean, that would draw out all the crazies, but she made sure I had the right clues!”

“How did she do that?” Matt wondered.

“I studied the reflections in the pools of her eyes,” Byron said, impressed with himself.

Matt’s mouth dropped open. “You what?”

“I could see what she was seeing. When she took photos outside, I could spot a street sign, and the mountains in the background, so I knew which direction she was facing. She never came out and said the name of the resort, but once I had a rough idea of the neighborhood, I studied the videos she posted in her room and researched resorts in the area that matched the decor on their Web sites. Once I had the right place, then I just used Google Maps to pinpoint her exact location. After that, getting inside was a piece of cake.”

Poppy and Matt stared slack-jawed at Byron.

He was nothing if not resourceful.

Byron gazed longingly at one of the photos in his glass-encased shrine. “It was so beautiful when we finally came together, like two lost souls reunited, so perfect . . .” His smile slowly faded and he glared at Matt. “Until you forced us apart.”

“After you ran off, did you try to come back? Maybe in disguise?” Matt pressed.

Byron shook his head, baffled by the suggestion. “No . . .”

“You strike me as a very determined kid,” Matt noted. “You didn’t follow the production to Joshua Tree, find a way to sneak on the set undetected, find Danika in her trailer, and when she screamed for help, you grabbed a pillow off the bed and smothered her cries?”

Poppy shifted nervously. She could tell Matt was riling Byron up again, and she feared he might try to go for his rifle.

“No, I did not!” Byron shouted. “I told you, I would never hurt a hair on her head! I loved her! I loved her!”

Byron dissolved into tears, covering his face with his long bony fingers.

“What the hell is going on here?” a man bellowed from behind them.

Poppy and Matt spun around to see a hulking biker-type with long black hair, big mustache, muscles, shirtless except for a ripped jean vest, and tattoos all over his arms and chest. Sunglasses shielded his eyes. He was a foot and a half taller than Matt and brooded in the doorway. Fear swept through Poppy as her instincts cried out that this man was dangerous.

Byron lowered his hands from his face and sniffed. “Axel, you’re home early. . . .”

“You didn’t hear me ride up on my bike?” Axel barked before resting his eyes on Poppy and Matt. “Who are these people, Mormon missionaries?”

Byron shook his head. “No, they came by to talk to me about Danika. . . .”

Axel’s eyes narrowed. “You the police?”

“No,” Matt said, clearing his throat. “Private investigators.”

Axel did a slow burn.

Then he turned back to Byron, scowling, and seethed, “I told you not to talk to anyone.”

Byron’s whole body started to shake. “I know, but—”

“Zip it!” Axel yelled, jabbing a finger at Byron. “No more talking. Talking’s going to get you thrown in jail. Trust me, little brother, these people are not your friends. Do you even know who they’re working for? They could be trying to frame you for murder!”

“I-I don’t think so—” Byron stuttered.

“I don’t care what you think. I’m the one in charge around here,” Axel said in a husky voice. Then he jabbed a finger toward Poppy and Matt. “I want you two out of here. Now.”

Poppy and Matt quickly took their leave. Poppy squeezed past Axel first, flashing him the briefest of smiles, followed by Matt. But Axel extended one of his scuffed black riding boots out in front of Matt, tripping him up, and sending him hurtling to the wooden porch and driving a splinter up into the palm of his hand, causing him to wince in pain.

Axel stood over him menacingly. “Don’t even think about coming back here.”

Matt scrambled to his feet, gave him a quick nod, and then ran to catch up with Poppy, who was already waiting at Matt’s car. A Harley-Davidson was parked with a kickstand a few feet behind the Prius. They both jumped inside. Matt made a point of locking the doors.

“I think he really wants to hurt us,” Matt said, putting the gear in reverse.

“Well, please let’s not stick around and give him the chance,” Poppy cried, rummaging for some tissue in her purse and handing a wad to Matt. “Here, press this tissue against the gash to stop the bleeding.”

Matt grabbed the tissue and clenched it in his hand, then pressed down on the accelerator, and the Prius backed up too fast and slammed into the Harley knocking it over, the aluminum frame crunching in the dirt upon impact.

Poppy swiveled around to see Axel standing on the porch, his face reddening with fury at the sight of his bike tipped over. “Go, Matt, go!”

Panicked, Matt slammed his foot down on the accelerator again, still in reverse, and hit the bike again, almost backing over it. Axel was