A Fate Worse Than Death

Cheers and whistles erupted in the robbery-homicide squad room as Steven walked through the door without his arm sling. He laughed in surprise and embarrassment. “Stop! All I did was get shot. I didn’t even arrest anybody.”

Lyle stood up from behind his desk and walked over to give him a brief man hug and a gentle pat on the back. “Glad you’re back, buddy. The criminal element has raged out of control while you were gone.”

Steven acknowledged the continued attention of his fellow detectives with a shake of his head and sat down at his desk opposite Lyle’s. Farber came out of his office, a big smile on his face.

“I could say that Ziggy turned out to be a bigger pain in the neck than you thought, but I won’t because you might throw your stapler at me.”

Steve grimaced. “Your pitiful joke is more painful than the bullet.”

“Well, no worries about Ziggy. He got aired out with about twenty bullets. He’s about as dead as anybody can get.”

“Everybody cleared?”

“For shooting a dirtbag who was trying to murder a cop? You bet. No problems there.”

“How about Lori Lou?”

“We took her in and questioned her, but she refused to say anything about anybody. She said if we kept her there, she’d lawyer up. She’s in the wind now. Probably found herself another biker to treat her like crap.”

“Probably.” Steven pasted as pleasant a look as he could muster in the direction of Farber. “You know, Lieutenant, I’m perfectly fine now. I’m ready for more than desk duty. I can handle being out in the field when the need arises.”

“You’re riding a desk for the next week, no ands, ifs, or buts. Doctor’s orders. No amount of complaining will do you any good.”

Looking only slightly defeated, Steven said, “Okay, I’ll go through the cases we have and see what I can do.”

“Sounds like a plan, big guy.”

Lyle had been paying close attention. “I could use your help on the human smuggling case. We’re still nowhere with that. The FBI came in to ‘help’ us”—he made quote marks in the air—“but with them it’s all take and no give.”

Steven shrugged. “Big surprise. I’ll check for updates from the last couple of weeks if there’s any. What are you working on?”

“The Sam Clemente murder. It looks like it was personal, might have something to do with Clemente maybe fooling around with Jack Sandusky’s wife. But Sandusky has an airtight alibi, and we haven’t found any leads to lead us to the hitter. Helmsley and I are going to talk to Sandusky again and see what we can shake loose about his dealings with Clemente.”

“I’d like to be there.”

“I hear ya, but we need to get on this before it gets ice-cold.”

“I’ll be here feeling sorry for myself should you need me.”

Lyle took his Glock out of his desk drawer and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. “If I had a wife as beautiful as yours, I’d never leave home.”

Steven watched him stop briefly at Sergeant Helmsley’s desk, and then the two of them went out. If only beauty were everything, he thought. Then he started up his computer.

****

The casting office was located on the 20th Century Fox lot, which was now a mere shell of what it had been during its heyday, when little Shirly Temple had saved the studio from going under. Oh, to have been here back then, Olivia thought as she drove down Century Boulevard. But she reveled in the possibility that today she actually had a chance to become one of the fortunate actors who worked in the hallowed soundstages of the Fox studios.

The parking structure was adjacent to the studio, and Olivia had no problem finding her way to the office building where casting for the TV show LA Undercover was taking place. She had dressed simply, tied back her hair, and gone easy on the makeup, wanting to look as plain as possible. This was not a glamour-girl role. She would be reading for the guest starring role of a cop who goes undercover, is exposed, and then murdered. Her first guest starring role! If she booked this part, it could be the first of many. She signed in and took a chair, eyeing the other actresses who were all studying their sides. She decided to go out into the hallway where she could whisper her lines aloud before being called in. She had easily memorized her lines and had used everything she’d ever learned in acting class to prepare for this audition. She had gotten inside the character’s skin and knew what made her tick. She’d never felt so right for anything. She only had to wait half an hour before she heard her name called. She went through the door with a smile and displayed the supreme confidence only a stage actress possessed. She said her brief hellos to the casting director and her assistant behind the camera. Then the camera was turned on and focused on her and the casting director said the magic words, “Whenever you’re ready.”

In the scene, she is being questioned and tortured by a group of drug dealers whose gang she had infiltrated. At first, she is offended that they would even suspect her of being a cop, then she gradually becomes more and more fearful until she breaks down in tears and begs them to spare her life. Olivia moved through the transitions effortlessly, and when the climax came so did her tears. She had nailed it.

The casting director handed her a tissue and allowed Olivia to calm her emotions. Then she asked Olivia if she could wait outside for a few minutes. Olivia nodded. “Of course.”

Olivia was shaking as she went back to the reception area. She had just done the best audition of her life. She’d left nothing on the table. She sat down and didn’t look at the other actresses still waiting to read. No one went in or out of the casting director’s office. Finally, the door opened, and the assistant approached her and whispered, “We’d like to put you on hold for three days. If that’s agreeable to you, we’ll call your agent and let him know.”

Olivia nodded and projected a calm she did not feel. She almost stumbled to the outside exit, and then she sat heavily on a bench by the door. On hold! That meant she had a very good shot at getting the role! They wanted to show her tape to the director and producers who would make the final decision. If anybody read better than she did she would be shocked. She stood up and walked back to her car. She sat behind the steering wheel and decided to follow Rosemaria’s example. She prayed like she had never prayed before, which was pretty much never. Rosemaria said it worked, and if it did, Olivia wanted to cover all her bases. Dear God in heaven, let this be it. Let this finally be it.

****

Rosemaria and her father sat at the dinner table, astonished at Olivia’s cheerful bustling about the kitchen as she prepared to serve her first home-cooked meal in over a week. Using potholders to protect her hands from being burned, she set a big, glass pan down in the middle of the table with a dramatic flourish. “I made lasagna for us today. Totally from scratch.” She laughed. “It’s about the only thing I’m capable of making that tastes good.” She looked at her husband and daughter. “So, dig in and tell me you like it.” She handed Steven a big serving spatula, while Rosemaria waited her turn.

Steven took the spatula and dug himself out a huge piece. “I was wondering what was going on in here today. You kept both of us out of the kitchen for two hours. But the wonderful aroma gave us a hint as to what you were up to.” He picked up a bite with his fork, waited for it to cool, and put it in his mouth. He looked at Olivia, who was observing him anxiously. “Mmm, absolutely delicious.”

“Really? You like it?”

“You’ve outdone yourself.”

By now Rosemaria had served herself a big portion of lasagna as well. She blew on it before taking a bite. She chewed appreciatively and nodded at her mom with her mouthful. “Yeah, Mom. This is the best ever.”

Oliva sat down to serve herself. “And don’t forget to eat your salads. That’s the healthy part.”

Steven put another big forkful in his mouth and waited until he swallowed to ask, “Call me crazy, but I think something must have happened to put you in a mood like this.”

Oliva put her fork down and rubbed her hands together nervously. “Well, I didn’t tell you, but I had an audition today for a guest starring role on LA Undercover.”

Rosemaria’s mouth fell open. “Really? Wow! That’s incredible. Did you do okay? When will you know if you got it?”

“Well, it looks good for me because they placed me on hold for three days.”

Steven looked puzzled. “They put you on hold? What does that mean?”

“It means that the casting director thought I was really good, and she needs to show the tape to the director and producers, then they make up their minds who they want. When they put you on hold it means you can’t go on auditions or take other jobs because then you won’t be available for their show.”

“So, you have to wait three whole days to find out?” Rosemaria asked.

Steven jumped in. “I’m proud of you, hon, and we’ll keep good thoughts, but you know you can’t count on these things.”

Rosemaria hoped her mother wouldn’t fly off the handle at hearing that.

Olivia didn’t let his comment spoil her mood. “Don’t worry, I’m not saying I have it in the bag, but being on hold is the next step to booking the part. This would be my first guest starring role, separate card and everything.”

Rosemaria didn’t know what that meant but it made her mom happy. “I’ll pray for you, Mama, really hard, every day.”

“Oh, would you?” She reached out and took her daughter’s hand. “I’m happy you have faith in me even if certain other people don’t.”

“I didn’t mean—” Steven began, but Olivia laughed it off.

“It’s okay. After all the times I’ve lost out, it’s normal to think this is just one more time I’ll go down in flames. But it isn’t. I feel that. I nailed this one and my time has come.”

They all dug into their lasagna as Rosemaria and her father exchanged worried looks.

****

The robbery-homicide squad room was almost deserted except for Steven and Sergeant Messina typing on their keyboards. Steven was trolling through arrest records looking for any connection between Sam Clemente and Jack Sandusky. Sandusky swore up and down that he’d nothing to do with Sam besides hanging out in a few of the same bars, and that his wife Helen’s dirty weekend with Sam in Carmel was meaningless. Besides which, he and his wife hadn’t been getting along for more than two years and were in the process of getting a divorce.

Clemente had been in the construction business like Sandusky. Occasionally, they’d bid on the same project, but Clemente had not been in the same league as Sandusky, whose company had built some fairly large office buildings downtown and elsewhere. Clemente had been relegated to public school add-ons and two-and three-story medical clinics. So where was the connection? Finding out about the wife’s cheating had to have been the tipping point after something a lot bigger had happened.

He had barely started looking into possible criminal history of both men and their families when his phone rang.

It was Rosemaria. “Hi, Daddy.” She said she was in the principal’s office, using her landline.

Steven sat straight up. “What is it, honey? Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. Mom didn’t pick me up again, and Priscilla wasn’t in school today, so I didn’t have a ride home.”

“Where are you now?”

“In the principal’s office. The bus left already.”

Swearing under his breath, Steven grabbed his coat and said to Messina on his way out, “Tell Hirschberg I had to pick up my daughter. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

He ran out the door and jumped in his car. He wove through downtown traffic, hopped on the freeway, and headed toward Simi. He grumbled under his breath, “Where the hell is she?”