Not Famous in Hollywood (Not in Hollywood Book 1)

Chapter Four

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.