Not Famous in Hollywood (Not in Hollywood Book 1) Page 3

  “Trudie Eyre.” I was quite proud that there was only a small waver in my voice.

  “Is that your full correct name?” she asked with a small smile.

  Great, she knew. I could tell from the look on her face that she knew that my mother had given me a name no modern mother should give their child.

  “My full name is Gertrude Mary Eyre” I said glaring at her.

  I know, Gertrude. I was named after my dad’s grandmother. To this day I don’t understand what my mom was thinking. She says my great grandmother was sick when I was born and they didn’t know if she would live. Between that, the really long labor, the drugs and the pressure from my grandmother, she signed the paperwork without really thinking. Once the situation had calmed down enough that she realized what she had done to her firstborn child, it was too late. The best she could do was shorten it to Trudie. That and tell me at least it wasn’t a stripper name. No, I had a name as far from a stripper name as it was possible to get. A name that was pretty much guaranteed to be accompanied by the sentence, ‘why would your mother do that’ by everyone who heard it. I could tell that was the next question Detective Ramos wanted to ask, but she was a professional. She only looked like she wanted to burst out laughing at my stupid name. She didn’t actually do it. I wasn’t even game to look at Griffin. That quirking eyebrow of his made me want to slap him. Despite my limited knowledge of the American justice system, I’m pretty sure slapping a detective quirking an eyebrow at you because of the stupid name your mother gave you, would be considered a bad thing.

  “You are not an American citizen are you?” she asked.

  “No I’m not, I’m Australian” I said sighing.

  I knew where this was going. The one thing about working in America but not actually being an American, is that there are some people who assume you are here illegally. If you do anything that annoys them, or if they want something from you, they threaten to report you to Immigration.

  “Miss Eyre is working in this country legally. I have all the paperwork here,” Reggie interrupted reaching into his briefcase.

  Lucky for me Reggie did all my original paperwork, as Monique was the one who sponsored me for my green card. Ramos and Griffin weren’t interested in the paperwork, I knew that and Reggie knew that. The question was just aimed to rattle my cage, make me feel uncertain about my status and a little bit more willing to cooperate. What they failed to realize was I had no idea about my status and the only reason I was holding it together was because Reggie was sitting beside me and his knee kept bumping my leg in what I think was a desperate attempt at communicating with me in Morse code. Unfortunately for me I had no idea how to interpret what he was trying to tell me.

  “Miss Eyre” Detective Griffin said with a smile. I looked at him and the ingratiating expression was so far away from irritated or amused at my expense, that I did a double take. Okay so he was going to try to be good cop. Didn’t look like he was comfortable with it. I tried to quirk my eyebrow at him and if the expression on Ramos’s face was anything to go by, it didn’t work for me either.

  “Can you tell us what happened this morning?” he asked.

  I breathed in and tried to be smart, just like Monique told me. Lucky for me Monique always gets me to write up any incidents with clients in a report format. She said in the litigious world that we lived in, we had to protect ourselves. I decided to approach this situation like I would one of those reports.

  “Today was supposed to be my day off. My cell woke me this morning and it was Miss Channing. She informed me that she was at Mr Hendricks’s house and wanted me to pick her up. I reminded Miss Channing that it was my day off and she should contact a limo service who would be happy to pick her up. Miss Channing informed me that she paid me so my life was not my own, and that I better get my lazy ass out of bed or she would make sure I would never get a job in this town again.”

  At this point Reggie’s knee was starting to leave bruises on my legs so I wasn’t sure if he was happy with the level of detail I was giving. I was tired and cranky and these detectives were annoying me. Between Ramos looking like she wanted to laugh at me and Griffin quirking that damned eyebrow, I was not in the mood to answer questions. Seriously I was wondering if it was a nervous tic.

  “I got in my car and drove to Ryan Hendricks’s house. There were no staff in attendance which was unusual, as the man was not able to have a thought in his head without somebody putting it in there. I called out for Miss Channing but didn’t receive an answer. I crawled through the doggie door as Miss Channing had neglected to leave a door open for me and wasn’t answering when I knocked. I went upstairs to Mr Hendricks’s bedroom and found Miss Channing sitting on the bed. She told me Mr Hendricks was in the bathroom. I went in the bathroom as Miss Channing was distressed and found Mr Hendricks slumped in the shower. I ascertained whether I could see any signs of life in Mr Hendricks, could not find a pulse and then I called 911.”

  I looked at Reggie, quite proud of myself. A good report I thought. Succinct and straight to the point.

  “How did you know where Mr Hendricks’s bedroom was?” asked Griffin.

  “I’ve accompanied Miss Channing to several parties in that house before and know where most of the rooms are” I replied.

  “Did Miss Channing and Mr Hendricks have a sexual encounter last night?” asked Ramos.

  “You would need to ask Miss Channing that” I said, reaching for the glass of water in front of me.

  Reggie beamed at me and I had a little smile myself. I was quite proud of myself for that answer. I’m pretty sure they went at it like bunnies last night but I don’t know for sure, and these two police officers weren’t going to trip me up with speculation. No way, I was on to them. I watch enough cop shows to be smart about this.

  “Were you involved in a sexual encounter with Mr Hendricks last night?” Griffin asked.

  He really should have waited until I’d finished that sip of water because I choked and sprayed a mouthful of it all over his shirt. Griffin jumped up and Reggie helpfully thumped my back as if I was choking to death. The man may be small but he has a strong arm on him.

  “What?” I spluttered, tears running down my face as I desperately tried to get back control of my airways.

  Griffin got back in his chair trying to ignore the fact that I had just spewed water over him. At least it stopped him from quirking that eyebrow.

  “I asked if you had a sexual encounter with Mr Hendricks last night” he repeated.

  “No” I said.

  The two detectives waited but I was no longer in a sharing mood.

  “Have you ever had a sexual encounter with Ryan Hendricks?” Griffin ventured.

  “No” I repeated.

  Ryan Hendricks was gorgeous, there was no doubt about it. Despite my bravado and the fact I knew what his personality was like, if he had looked in my direction I am not so sure that I would have had the intestinal fortitude to say no. I hope so, but there is still that geeky teenage girl in me, the one who wouldn’t mind being able to say I’d caught the attention of Ryan Hendricks. I’m not particularly proud of that facet of my personality, but there you have it. The fact of the matter was that I hadn’t caught his attention.

  “Have you ever had a sexual encounter with Eleanor Channing?” asked Ramos.

  “Definitely not” I answered, the horror obviously evident in my voice. I have a friend who repeatedly says that all women are about three drinks from a girl on girl encounter. This friend is also a bit of a pig when it comes to women so it may be just his wishful thinking. If that statement is true though, to get me near Eleanor Channing it would take a lot more than three drinks.

  “Exactly where are you going with these questions?” Reggie asked a bit too mildly for my tastes. Personally I would have preferred him to jump up and defend my honor and demand apologies for the inappropriate questioning, but it looks like chivalry isn’t what it used to be.

  “Just trying to ascertain the nature
of Miss Eyre’s relationship with all parties involved” Griffin replied just as mildly.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. Yeah, I really didn’t like him. I started doing my own Morse code thing with my knee against Reggie’s leg. I wanted out of here now. Fortunately for me, Reggie is smarter than most people and he was able to translate my leg spasms into ‘get me the hell out of here’.

  “I think we’re done here Detectives. You have your statement. My client is the only person involved who actually tried to help the victim. If you have any other questions for her please contact my office.” Reggie started packing his briefcase indicating the interview was over.

  As we were leaving Griffin cleared his throat. “We will be processing your car as it is part of the crime scene. We’ll get it back to you when we can.”

  I turned around and Griffin quirked that damn eyebrow of his and tossed in a smirk just to get to me. Reggie, seeing that I was about to lose it, very wisely grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the station, all the time murmuring in my ear.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  He got me into his car and once the doors were closed and he was sure we were alone he turned to me.

  “They are just trying to upset you. At the moment you are a witness, they can’t really push you that much. The second you do something they will lock you up and interrogate you a lot harder than that.”

  “I wasn’t going to do anything” I said calmly staring straight ahead.

  “Right” said Reggie. “You didn’t want to hit that cop at all.”

  “I would never…” I spluttered.

  “No of course not” said Reggie, “that’s not like you at all.”

  I looked sideways at him and gave him my haughtiest expression. That didn’t even deserve a response.

  Chapter Four

  Reggie dropped me off at the front of my apartment. As usual Miss Betsy was working in the gardens. Miss Betsy Peterman owned the entire complex and rented out the various apartments, generally to people that she felt were interesting. She liked to talk, but most of all she liked to listen and hear stories that people from different countries and different walks of life could bring her. After trying to find a reasonably priced place in LA I’m sure I only landed this one because I launched into a story about the time I got chased by an emu when holidaying in the outback with my family when I was a kid. I wish it hadn’t been true. Despite the fact she owned a very pricey piece of real estate in LA and was raking in the rent, she liked to do the maintenance on the building herself. It was not unusual to see Miss Betsy pottering around the place, her gray hair in a messy bun and with a tool belt around her hips. I always felt guilty when anything in my unit needed to be repaired and generally stayed there to do any of the heavy lifting. That being said when she fixed something she did it well. She said she had to considering the bum of a husband she had tossed out on his rear years ago.

  As I walked through the door to my apartment my cell phone rang insistently. Stupidly I didn’t check caller ID before answering.

  “Where are you?” screeched the familiar voice of Miss Eleanor Channing.

  “Well Miss Channing. I have just been dropped off at my home after spending the morning being questioned by the police.”

  “Why were they questioning you?” she asked suspiciously.

  I looked at the phone and contemplated smacking it against my head. “They required a witness statement regarding the passing of Mr Hendricks earlier today” I said, wondering if she had actually forgotten.

  “I know” she sighed, “it has been such a trauma for me. I need you to get here right now and take me to the spa so I can deal with everything I have been through.”

  “Actually Miss Channing, I can’t get to you right now. The police have impounded my car as it is considered to be a part of the crime scene. Maybe it would be a good opportunity for you to speak to your therapist and I will be there tomorrow morning to help you.”

  See, that’s what you call self-control. Remember this was still supposed to be my day off. Eleanor needs to be led to the next person to take care of her. She can’t have a moment of the day where someone isn’t holding her hand. Her entourage of managers, lawyers, hangers on and I generally play a game of pass the starlet. She gets too much for one, we pass her along to the next person in the line.

  Once I got Eleanor off the phone I called her manager immediately. Eleanor at a loose end is a disaster waiting to happen, but for the rest of today she was somebody else’s disaster. Of course there were no queries about how I had done at the police station. To be perfectly honest though, the guy probably didn’t even know my name. I was just minion number one.

  Flopping down on the couch I wrapped my arms around one of the cushions and promptly fell asleep. Next thing I heard was pounding on my front door. Not nice, polite knocking, no, this was pounding. Getting up from my couch I threw the cushion down and ripped open the door to find Detective Griffin about to assault it again.

  “Not you again” I groaned. “What do you want now? I told you everything I know and weren’t you supposed to speak to Reggie if you needed anything else?”

  “Sorry Miss Eyre” he said. “I’m not here with any more questions, I’m just returning your car. We’ve finished with it now and I knew it would be important to you to get it back.” He smiled and I could swear I heard angels sing.

  “You’re being nice” I said squinting up at him, still not fully awake. “Stop it, it doesn’t suit you.”

  “I can be nice” he said lowering his voice seductively.

  I felt that butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach, but then I stopped myself and thought this through. Detective Hottie was being pleasant and seductive to me, breathtakingly average me. I saw his partner. If she was his version of normal I had no chance. I know it sounds like I have low self-esteem. I prefer to think of it as a very strong grasp of reality. Detective Griffin and I had known each other for a total of eight hours at most, not nearly enough time for him to be seduced by my stellar personality. Seeing as I wasn’t a big proponent of love at first sight, the whole seductive voice thing was just not working for me.

  I reached for the keys that he was dangling in his hand. “Thank you very much.”

  He pulled the keys just out of my reach. “Any chance of getting a drink, I’m kind of warm at the moment. The air conditioning in your car doesn’t work very well.”

  “The air conditioning works fine. It isn’t my fault if you weren’t able to turn it on” I said.

  He quirked that eyebrow and had an expectant look on his face.

  “Fine” I ground out, years of my mother’s social etiquette indoctrination unable to be repressed. “Come in and you can have a drink.”

  I led him to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and tossed him a bottle of water. He looked at the bottle and then at me.

  “You want anything else there’s a grocery store around the corner” I told him opening my own bottle.

  He raised the drink to his lips, took a good couple of swallows and leaned against the kitchen counter. My apartment is a normal size but Detective Griffin managed to make it seem small.

  “So Detective Griffin” I said, “why are you really here? Somehow I don’t think returning my car, especially this quickly, is a high priority for the LAPD. Something tells me that there is a little more behind this visit.”

  “I’d like you to call me Jake” he said.

  I cocked my head. “I don’t think so Detective Griffin. You have thirty seconds to tell me want you want or I’m calling Reggie to say you’re harassing me, and believe me that man would like nothing better than making your life difficult. He likes my cookies.”

  “Really” said Griffin with a smirk on his face.

  “I mean he likes the cookies I make, chocolate chip with pecans. They’re really good and I make them for him. In fact that’s what I should be doing now, so get out so I can start.”

  I’d lost control. I knew it and Griffin knew it. br />
  “Look I’m sorry” said Griffin. “This isn’t normally my thing but we’re getting stonewalled by Ryan Hendricks’s people and Eleanor Channing’s people. The lieutenant’s a fan so he’s not backing us up. I was hoping that you would have more information, maybe with your attorney not being around. None of what you say to me at the moment is admissible in court. We just need to get a handle on it.”

  “What is it you want to know?” I asked.

  I was starting to feel a bit sorry for him. I could understand the frustration. My uncle is a cop back home in Australia so I kind of have a soft spot for the police. It’s a thankless job, made more difficult by lawyers and people who don’t believe the same rules apply to them that apply to the rest of us. Griffin ran his hand through his hair, frustration evident in the tense way he was holding himself.

  “Is there anything else you can tell us? None of this can be used in court so rumors, information about the people involved, anything. You’re involved in that world in a way we can’t be. Surely there are things you’ve heard or seen that can help.”

  “Okay” I said. “Ask me what you want and I’ll give you what I can.”

  “You are Eleanor Channing’s personal assistant. What does that mean and what access does that give you?” he asked.

  “Technically I work for Monique Petit. Eleanor Channing’s management have contracted Monique’s firm to provide a personal assistant. This gives me more freedom than most personal assistants have because I do not work for Eleanor. I can make choices on situations without being pressured by the client. Monique allocates me to clients who have had staffing issues previously.”

  “I’m guessing they have staffing issues because they are unpleasant to work for” Griffin put in.

  “Got it in one Detective.” I saluted him with my water bottle.

  “You would need to have a certain type of personality to cope with that kind of job” Griffin said. “I’ve dealt with some of the more difficult celebrities. I couldn’t do that for longer than a few minutes at a time before doing some damage. How did you get the job?”