A Murder in Malibu

Gemma

I pulled on to Brighton Way in Beverly Hills and found a parking spot directly in front of the restaurant that was made famous once for a scandal that played out on a reality show. 

My mother and I had been dining at SAGE for years. Anytime we had big news, we headed over.

The beautiful, all white décor put me at ease as I recalled the many celebrations that had taken place inside over the years. I didn't see my mother's Mercedes on the street, so I went inside to be seated while I waited for her to arrive. Pamela was notoriously late, always on "Celebritime" as Edwin called it, so I was used to being seated solo. Thankfully I had my phone with me so I could use the extra time to text Jason.

"Welcome back to SAGE. It's nice to see you again." The tall, slender hostess greeted me warmly but her eyes were dead cold. I had never seen her before, but knew this was the standard greeting at SAGE in case I was the daughter of a casting agent or producer.

No doubt the hostess was an aspiring actress hoping to be discovered while seating big time Hollywood directors and producers. It seemed every waitress, waiter, receptionist, even dog groomer in LA was an aspiring something or other.

"Thank you. There will be two of us. My mother is running late." I gave her a friendly smile and got a plastic smirk in return from Miss Aspiring Actress/Hostess.

I chose to sit with my back to the busy street and a view of the interior of the restaurant. Part of SAGE's appeal was that the front of the restaurant faced Brighton Way. It was wide open with long, off-white colored panels of luxurious fabric that were pulled back to reveal the Beverly Hills view. I preferred to be seated on the opposite side, facing out to the street, but knew my mother also loved to people watch and see celebs. Since it was her night with big news, I decided I'd let Pamela have her favorite side of the table tonight. Maybe I'd catch a glimpse of a celebrity though I didn't recognize most of the older people who came in for dinner.

I had placed my order for a Pellegrino with a lime twist when I noticed a uniformed police officer enter the restaurant and stop to speak with the hostess.

My heart did a flip flop. This wasn't exactly the type of place that cops frequented. Didn't cops eat doughnuts and hang out at coffee shops or get frappes at the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf? In LA, the cops were Starbucks customers and often sat in groups alongside the table of Persian Mafia members. 

 Lily and I assumed they were Persian Mafia by their uniformed attire of 1990's Adidas tracksuits and the gold chains they wore nestled in their thick chest hair. On the occasions we asked Shayla about this so-called Mafia, she'd only laugh and roll her thickly eye-lined eyes, but never denied it.

I scratched my cheek absentmindedly and tried not to stare in the direction of the police officer, but my mind galloped like a wild horse, flickering to the events leading up to right now. What if he was coming here to arrest me? Bring me to the station for questioning and then arrest me? I fanned my hot face with a hand.

I shouldn't jump to conclusions but I couldn't help it.

Had something happened to Lily and Marisela told the police to find me at this restaurant?

Maybe I'd been followed? I glanced over my shoulder to the street but didn't notice anyone lurking.

Was the blackmailer making good on his threat? Was he hiding?

What if he had turned in whatever evidence placed us with Taylor's body? And now the police were after me? Lily pointed the police in my direction to clear her name and now I was taking the fall?