Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [161]
She jerked away from Mike. “You have to leave. You can’t stay here. He’ll kill you if you stay.”
“That’s nonsense,” Mike told her. “If he comes after you—”
“When, not if,” Lorie said. “When he comes after me, he’ll kill anyone who gets in his way.” She shook her head. “I am not going to let you risk your life for me.”
“Honey…” Mike held out his hands, wanting to pull her into his arms, but when he saw the stricken look on her face, he didn’t touch her. “Listen to me.”
She kept shaking her head. “Jean had two bodyguards and he killed both of them. How did that happen? How could he have gotten past all that security?”
“I don’t know,” Mike admitted.
“Wainwright got a call from the LAPD,” Jack said. “He called me from the airport. He’s on his way to LA by now. Our conversation was brief because he was in a hurry. I got in touch with Maleah on my way over here. She’ll share the info with the Powells and Derek. Maybe he can come up with an explanation of how a woman who was supposedly surrounded by the best security money can buy is now dead.”
While preparing for dinner out with her husband, Renee Leroy turned on the small TV in her dressing room in order to catch the evening news. Tonight they were dining with the Bellamys, an older couple completely devoted to the Redeemer Church and two of their biggest contributors. Celia and Earl were sweet people, but so boring. All he talked about were his horses and his golf game. And Celia seemed to be interested in only one thing—her six grandchildren. Renee knew the Bellamy grandchildren’s names and ages and had looked at countless photo albums filled with their pictures.
Renee slipped into her calf-length navy silk sleeveless dress. As she removed the matching jacket from the pink padded hanger, the TV announcer’s last comment caught her attention.
“We go now to Los Angeles where the FBI and the LAPD will be issuing a joint statement concerning the murder of adult film star Jean Goins Misner, aka Puff Raven, wife of producer Jeff Misner.”
The navy jacket dropped from Renee’s hand. She stared at the small screen as two men stood in front of a crowd of reporters. The camera scanned from one man to the other. Their identities appeared in print at the bottom of the screen. One was the LAPD chief of police and the other was FBI Special Agent Hicks Wainwright.
The police chief made a brief statement, giving only the basic information that the bodies of Jean Goins Misner, her husband, and two bodyguards were found by the Misners’ housekeeper at approximately 6:00 A.M. that morning.
Using the house intercom, Renee called Grant, who had gone down to his study a few minutes ago. “Grant, are you there?”
“Yes, darling, what is it? You sound upset.”
“Turn on the TV,” Renee told him. “They’re making an announcement about Jean and Jeff Misner. They’ve been murdered.”
“Dear God in heaven. He’s killed another one.”
“Watch it,” Renee said. “We’ll talk later.”
Renee sat at her vanity table, her gaze fixed on the TV, and listened while Special Agent Wainwright told the world that the FBI suspected the Midnight Killer was responsible for the murders, that Jean Goins was the fifth actor who had starred in the porno movie Midnight Masquerade to be killed.
Renee wondered if Grant should call Heath to let him know. He had voiced his concerns about his father’s welfare the moment the news first came out about the Midnight Killer. After all, Grant had been the director, and even though so far only actors had been killed, who was to say when that maniac would move on to others with any type of connection to the movie?
If he thought it necessary, Grant would contact Heath. She certainly had no intention of calling him. Although she and her stepson had never had a cross word, they had, until recently, given each other a wide birth. Both knew they were important to Grant and his ministry and