Killer Ambition - [6]

“When was the last time you saw Hayley?” I asked.

“Thursday. Or…was it Friday? Friday, I think. They didn’t have any classes on Friday, so she and Mackenzie wanted to hang out there.” He pointed to the photo of his house in the hills. “I dropped in to check on them, make sure they had food, whatnot.”

“How old is Hayley?” I asked.

“Sixteen.”

That seemed awfully young to be floating around a party house in the Hollywood Hills with a buddy and no supervision.

Russell read my expression. “Her mom doesn’t live far from there.”

Of course. Russell and the mother were divorced. That explained the lack of resemblance to Dani, who I assumed was Wife 3.0.

“So you let Hayley stay there on your custody nights?” I asked.

“We don’t really have custody nights per se anymore. Hayley pretty much stays where she wants.”

Unfortunately, not tonight.

3

“We’ll need a list of the names and numbers of all of Hayley’s friends, especially the girl she was supposed to hang out with, Mackenzie…?”

I prepared to memorize the name. She’d be number one on our interview list.

“Struthers,” Russell said. “Mackenzie Struthers-”

At that moment a woman came rushing into the room, blonde-gray hair flying, sweater hastily pulled on and hanging off her shoulders. Jeeves followed close behind her, shaking his head.

The woman cried out frantically, “Where’s Hayley? What’s happened to her? Russell!”

Having seen Hayley’s photo, I didn’t need an introduction to know that this was Raynie, Hayley’s mother. Russell hung his head and put his hands behind his neck, physically ducking the verbal assault. Bailey and I went over to her and introduced ourselves, then told her what we knew. Raynie covered her mouth as she repeated, “No, oh no, oh no.”

Her breathing was labored and she paled so suddenly I thought she might pass out, so I gently took her elbow and guided her to a nearby couch. She sank down, covered her eyes, and swallowed.

“When did you last see Hayley, ma’am?” I asked.

After a few moments she answered, “When she went to stay at Russell’s other house. That would’ve been Thursday. She said she was going to be with Mackenzie-”

“I assume Mackenzie’s a good friend?” I asked.

Raynie nodded. “One of her closest buddies.”

“Wait, now I remember,” Russell said. “I checked in with her on Friday. She was just fine.”

Raynie turned to Russell, and her expression hardened. “You checked up on her? Or did you send your assistant?”

Russell looked away. Obviously this was a long-standing issue between them. A not uncommon one in the entertainment industry, where many more children are raised by nannies than by biological parents-though no one ever admits it.

“Look, if you did send an assistant who’s not on the premises, we’ll need his or her name,” I said, to cut off the feud before it became a real distraction. In my experience, family members often like to dwell on irrelevant beefs like this because it gives them an accessible target. Not that I blame them.

Russell, looking embarrassed, turned and called to Dani to come over. She and Raynie exchanged warm greetings. It was an interesting-and refreshing-change to have the ex and the current be so easy with each other.

Russell asked Dani, “Who checked in on Hayley? Was it Uma?”

Dani shook her head. “Angie.” She called out to Angela, who hurried over.

“I didn’t see Mackenzie there at the time,” said Angela. “Hayley just said they were going to hang out, maybe go to a club-”

“What club?” I asked.

Angela stuttered, “Uh, I-I’m not sure…Teddy’s?”

“Did she say when they were going? Were they going that night?” I asked.

“Sh-she didn’t say. I-I’m sorry.”

“No worries, Angie,” I said, sorry myself for having pounced on her. “You’ve been very helpful.”

“You know how to reach Mackenzie?” Bailey asked. Angie and Raynie simultaneously confirmed they did. Bailey called a uniform, gave him the information, and told him to go get a statement from Mackenzie. Then she turned back to the group to ask the usual question about any possible enemies Russell might have. She got a less-than-usual response.

“You’re kidding, right?” Ian, the manager, gave us both an incredulous look. “He’s one of the biggest directors in the world. Every actor who didn’t get a part, every writer whose project he passed on, every production company he turned down-there’s probably thousands who’d love to skewer him.”

“And who are crazy enough to do it by kidnapping his daughter?” I asked.

Ian shrugged. “It’s a town full of narcissists and sociopaths. You do the math.”

Though true, the diagnosis wasn’t helpful. At that moment Jeeves, or whatever they called their butler, entered, followed by a uniformed police officer.

“Find anything?” Bailey asked him.

“Not so far.”

“Then let’s get rolling.” Bailey turned back to Russell. “You’re going to take us to the drop site.”

At nearly midnight there was no traffic to contend with. We flew up Benedict Canyon, headed east on Mulholland Highway to Laurel Canyon, and got to Fryman Road in record time. This ransom drop was as close to a crime scene as we could get at this point, and the fact that it was in a wooded canyon meant that any evidence it might yield was disappearing by the second.