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

and leaving again around eight-forty-five.” Ralph tapped the screen to stop the footage. “There he is. Recognize him?”

Ralph held the iPad up in front of him.

Poppy and Matt stared hard at the footage.

Matt crinkled his nose. “I feel like I’ve seen him before, but I don’t know where.”

“You have seen him before,” Poppy said solemnly.

“Who is he?” Matt asked.

“That’s Violet’s new boyfriend.”

Chapter 33

“I don’t understand,” Violet muttered softly while sitting on the plush sofa at the Desert Flowers garage office, knees together, hands clasped resting on top of them, while staring wide-eyed at Poppy and Matt, who stood across from her, both with pained expressions on their faces.

“What’s not to understand? Your boyfriend is a fake just as I suspected!” Iris snorted from the kitchen area as she poured herself a glass of white wine.

“We don’t know that for sure, Iris, so stop saying that,” Poppy scolded. Then she turned and said gently to Violet, “Do you have any idea what he might have been doing at the Parker on the night I found Fabian Granger dead?”

Violet shook her head vigorously. “No. But I cannot believe that Phil had anything to do with something so horrid—”

“When was the last time you spoke to him?” Matt asked.

“The day after we had dinner. I texted him to say what a lovely time I had at John Henry’s and he texted back and said he agreed and was looking forward to doing it again soon,” Violet said.

“Maybe you should call him now and make another plan to get together, you know, to see if he’s for real or not,” Wyatt suggested, sitting at his desk in front of his computer, swiveling around in circles on his stool, chewing on a candy bar.

Matt nodded. “That’s not a bad idea, Violet.”

Violet hesitated. “I don’t know. . . .”

She was scared. Scared they would turn out to be right about this Phil they had never heard of until just a few days ago. It would be humiliating and heartbreaking for her.

Poppy walked over and sat down next to Violet, lightly touching her arm. “It’s the only way to be absolutely certain his intentions are noble, Violet.”

Violet sighed, still not sure. She glanced over at her grandson, who was wiping some chocolate off his face with the palm of his hand before lapping it up with his tongue.

“Better to know now than later,” Iris said, folding her arms. “It is like ripping off a Band-Aid. It is going to hurt no matter what, but better to do it fast and get it over with, rather than slow and making the pain last longer.”

Poppy threw Iris an annoyed look as Iris casually sipped her wine.

Resolute, Violet picked up her phone off the coffee table in front of her and made the call. She put the phone to her ear, waiting a few moments for Phil to answer. Slowly, Violet’s face began to fall. Then her whole body sagged.

Poppy leaned forward, concerned. “Violet, what is it?”

Violet’s lips were now trembling as she handed the phone over to Poppy, who turned on the speaker so they all could hear an operator report in a robotic tone, “The number you are calling is no longer in service.”

“Oh, dear,” Poppy mumbled.

Violet stared helplessly into space, not moving.

“I’m so sorry, Violet,” Matt said earnestly.

Something dawned on Violet and she was drawn back from her trance. “But he also gave me his home address in Palm Desert when we exchanged contact information. Why would he do that if he was just using me to keep tabs on us for Hal Greenwood, or God only knows what other reason?”

Wyatt hopped off his stool and scurried over to his grandmother. He held out his hand for the phone. “Is the address in your phone, Grandma?”

“Yes,” Violet whispered. “It’s under McKellan. Phil McKellan.”

Poppy relinquished the phone to Wyatt, who raced back to his computer and speedily tapped on his computer keys. A Google Earth map popped up on his screen as he zoomed in on an image of the North America continent, then the state of California, Riverside County, the city of Palm Desert, then an exact neighborhood. He scanned a street, stopping at what appeared to be an empty lot on the corner. Then, he slowly swiveled around to face Violet. “You’ve been ghosted, Grandma.”

“What?” Violet sniffled.

“The address he gave you doesn’t even exist.”

Violet dropped her head. She had expected this, but hearing it out loud seemed to only make it worse. “I feel like such a damn fool.”

Poppy grabbed Violet’s hand and squeezed it. “Do not blame yourself for this, Violet. Something like this could have happened to any one of us.”

The moment it flew out of her mouth Poppy cranked her head around in Iris’s direction to stop her from commenting, but of course, it was too late.

“Not me,” Iris grunted.

“Not helping!” Poppy snapped.

Chapter 34

The last place Poppy had ever imagined she would be was back on the set of Palm Springs Weekend in the heart of Joshua Tree National Park. But a surprising call from Greta Van Damm the evening before had confirmed the rumors that she had been hearing all day that Hal Greenwood Productions had found a suitable replacement for the late, lamented Danika Delgado, and the decision had been officially made to forge ahead on the movie, finish the remaining scenes left to shoot, and then go back and reshoot the scenes already in the can involving Danika’s character with the new actress.

Poppy had honestly assumed the whole project would be shelved after Danika’s murder, and the millions of dollars already spent would be written off as a loss. She was even more stunned to discover that the producers wanted both Poppy and Matt to return and finish the handful of scenes they had left to film. After hanging up with a very cold, remote, yet professional Greta, Poppy immediately got Matt on the phone, who was decidedly more enthusiastic about returning to the set.

Carpooling with Matt to