Missing, Presumed Dead Read online

  MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD

  by

  CHRISTIANE FRANCE

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.amberquill.com

  Missing, Presumed Dead

  An Amber Quill Press Book

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.AmberQuill.com

  http://www.AmberHeat.com

  http://www.AmberAllure.com

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  Copyright © 2011 by Christiane France

  ISBN 978-1-61124-182-2

  Cover Art © 2011 Trace Edward Zaber

  Published in the United States of America

  Also by Christiane France

  Blues In The Night

  Chance Encounter

  The Club At Cool Harbor

  The Cop And The Drifter

  Crossing The Line

  Double Delicious

  Fast Forward

  French Twist

  The Gallery On Main Street

  I'm Sorry

  The Impossible Dream

  Independence Day I & II

  It Happened In Las Vegas

  It Takes Three

  Les Hommes, Vols. I & II

  Like A Moth To The Flame

  Love Matters

  Oh, George

  On Days Like These

  Once Upon A Secret

  Paris Heat

  Reincarnation

  Some Place Only We Know

  Strangers In The Night

  A Taste Of Honey

  This Time For Keeps

  Wishing On The Moon

  Dedication

  For Roy and The Boys.

  MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD

  I'd given the cats their late-night treats, set the security alarm, and was on my way to bed when I heard a knock at the back door. Living at the beach on the outskirts of town, I rarely got unexpected visitors. I figured it was my one and only neighbor, Charlie, looking for a little company under the pretext of being in desperate need of a cup of sugar. I was about to turn off the alarm when I remembered Charlie was working tonight. And I'd long ago learned assuming anything is one of the fastest ways to get yourself in a pack of trouble.

  I glanced out the kitchen window, surprised to see my brother, Vance, standing on the patio in the company of another guy I've never seen before. Both of them were dressed for success in artfully ripped designer jeans and golf shirts with fancy logos. They were also wearing wraparound shades, despite the fact it had been dark for hours, and I noticed Vance had a briefcase in his right hand.

  Vance, like the other members of my immediate family, is "something important" in the movie biz, which explains the trendy clothes. It doesn't explain what he's doing here. He's never before left his plush Hollywood playpen to pay me a visit, so why now? What in hell could be so important he'd drive all the way up the coast to Amethyst Cove in the middle of the night to see me? I know for sure it's not a problem with my parents or any of my other siblings. My baby sister, who still lives at home, called less than an hour ago to invite me to her latest engagement party. If anything were wrong, she'd have said.

  I turned off the alarm and opened the door. "Hi, bro. This is nice. Unexpected, but nice."

  "Can we come in?" Without waiting for an answer, Vance pushed past me into the kitchen and dropped his briefcase on the table.

  He turned to face me. "We have a problem. A big problem. And, with you being an ex-cop and a licensed PI, I figure you should be able to help us."

  Okay, so no nice, polite touches such as Hi, Long time no see, or even How are you, but I can live with that, especially as my brother appears to have more important things on his mind. I look pointedly at his companion and back to him. "We?"

  "Sorry. This is Timothy Fensham. Tim, my brother, Greg Stewartson."

  "Hi, Tim."

  The guy gave me a vaguely questioning look and a half smile as he held out his hand, and I felt a quick jolt of sexual attraction. "Greg."

  Sun-streaked blond hair, sexy blue eyes, nice firm body, tight butt, and-- I instructed my mind to stop right there as we shook hands, and Vance added, "Tim's sister is Petra Lianne."

  "Who?"

  Vance expelled his breath in a soft whoosh and aimed a despairing glance in my direction. "Petra is one of the newer faces in Hollywood, but already she's getting herself noticed. She's had minor roles in a couple of movies, one of which resulted in her being nominated for an important award. I realize, living up here in the backwoods, I can't expect you to know all that."

  Actually, the name had struck a chord in my memory. I conjured up a fuzzy image of elfin features, a skeletal figure, and long dark hair. "Isn't she the unknown who was nominated for best actress and then got arrested for punching out another nominee the same night?"

  "It was best supporting actress. It was hair pulling, not punching. And the arrest was an ill-advised publicity stunt by one of her public relations people that got out of hand." Vance's voice was tight with tension as he continued, "After the lawyers convinced the police to drop the charges, and Petra was released from jail, I thought that was the end of it. It wasn't. Instead of returning to the studio the next day so one of our people could make the appropriate noises and ensure her image was still intact, she took off without a word. No phone call, no note, nothing. I can't believe she would do something so irresponsible and unforgiveable. She made me look like a fool."

  I know Vance lives in a world where reality is just a word and problems are not tolerated. Even so, I was tempted to tell him to get over himself and get to the point so I could go to bed. I'd had a hard day and I was tired. But then a slightly clearer image of the elfin face came to mind and I recalled a TV newsflash about the disappearance of a young movie star who was last seen here in Amethyst Cove. A follow-up item in the local paper next day said her car was found parked on a street near the marina, but there was no evidence of foul play and no reason to even suspect it. Mention was made of the award nomination, the fracas between her and a fellow nominee, and the star's subsequent arrest. There was also a quotation from someone identified as a close friend to the effect it was believed Petra Lianne had gone into temporary seclusion to avoid the media frenzy.

  "How long's she been gone?"

  "A little over a month."

  "One month and three days to be precise," Tim put in.

  "I'm assuming you've filed a missing person's report with the police?"

  "Of course, I filed a report." Vance rolled his eyes. "I'm not a complete idiot. I contacted them as soon as I knew for sure she was missing."

  "When was that exactly?"

  "About ten days after she was released from jail."

  "Was there a reason you waited so long?"

  "I figured she needed a little time alone to get over the incident."

  "And?" I knew from the guilty look on Vance's face he was hiding something.

  "If you must know, I picked her up from the jail and took her back to my place, where we proceeded to have a huge fight. She wanted to quit and move far away. She said she felt like a thing in a cage, not a person, and she wanted a real life. That everyone pushed too hard. They all expected too much, and she'd had enough."

  "What did she mean by a real life?"

  "I have no idea. I doubt s
he did either. She was just upset and taking it out on me."

  With Vance, it's always all about him, so I'm not surprised he'd think that. "That's all she said?"

  "She said no one gave a damn whether she lived or died. Everyone she knew was a user and that included me. I tried to calm her down by saying it wasn't true, that I loved her and she had a lot friends and a brother who loved her, too. But she was on a roll by then. She laughed in my face and said when it came to users, I'm the worst of the lot. I was an inconsiderate bastard who didn't understand the meaning of life, love and the pursuit of happiness." He hesitated, frowning. "Oh yes, and she said something about getting weird phone calls, but everyone in this business gets those."

  "Did she say what the calls were about?"

  "If she did, I don't remember. As I said, we all get them. I told her to change her number and have the calls filtered through an answering service."

  "And then she said?"

  "Our people had already done all that. But instead of it making her feel better, she still got jumpy and scared whenever the phone rang. She said she'd tried therapy and meditation, but nothing helped. She felt like a criminal on the run, constantly looking over her shoulder. Frankly, by then, I'd had enough of her insecurities. I told her she obviously doesn't have what it takes to become a really successful actress, so she might as well give it up and find herself something less stressful. I suggested she find a job as a waitress or a secretary."

  "Nice. I'm sure that went over well. And she said?"

  "She told me to go fuck myself. Then she aimed a crystal vase at my head. Thank God, she missed. Otherwise, I'd probably be dead. And she slammed the door on her way out."

  "Was this normal behavior for her?"

  "She's a prima donna with a temper. What can I say?" Vance shrugged, treated Tim to an apologetic glance and gave me a small smile. "I assumed she was blowing off a little steam after being arrested, which was understandable, and in a couple of days she'd be back."

  "Big difference between two days and ten," I observed.

  "True, but I thought she was waiting for me to call and beg her to come back the way I had on a couple of other occasions. But there was no way. I'd done nothing wrong. I decided to give her enough time to work things out for herself, and when she did, I figured she'd call me."

  "Except it didn't happen."

  "No. At the time, I had other, more important, things to deal with, like a big budget movie with serious problems. When almost two weeks went by with no word, I started to worry. I made a few calls, but she wasn't at her apartment, and no one at the studio had seen her since her arrest.

  "That's when I called Tim. He's her only family and he lives in San Francisco. I thought perhaps she'd gone up there. He hadn't heard from her, so I checked with everyone I could think of--her agent, her publicist, her personal assistant, and all her closest friends. I couldn't find anyone who'd heard from her since her release from jail. No one had the slightest idea where she might be."

  "Did you think she'd been kidnapped?"

  Vance nodded. "My first thought. What else? That's why Tim came down to L.A., and we went to see the cops." He began to pace back and forth. "But they said if she'd been kidnapped, there would have been a ransom demand in that length of time."

  "Did you tell them the two of you had a fight?"

  "It was more of a spat than a fight. But yes, I told them."

  "What did they say?"

  "Not much. They reminded me she's an adult and, unless I had evidence of foul play, there was nothing they could do. They said they could put out an APB on her car, and if they heard anything, they'd be in touch. In the meantime, if she returned home, which they seemed to think she would eventually, they said we should call and let them know."

  "Like they said, she's an adult. If she wants to take off for a while, she can."

  "I know that, and so does Tim." Vance stopped pacing and rubbed at his eyes. "But she has a job with commitments. I don't understand why she's behaving so irresponsibly. From what her agent told me, she's blown a couple of important auditions she won't get a second crack at, a TV interview that was scheduled to go nationwide, and then there was a high profile commercial she was supposed to do. If she was planning on committing career-suicide, I'd say she's done one terrific job."

  "Have you heard anything from the cops since you filed the report?"

  He nodded. "About three days later, I got a call from the police here in Amethyst Cove. They found the car, but no sign of Petra. There was nothing in the vehicle to indicate what might have happened to her or where she may have gone. All we know is that she parked the damn thing on a street somewhere near the marina, locked it and walked away. The cops checked every hotel, motel and rooming house in town and along the coast highway, but nada there, too."

  The house lights suddenly flickered, died, and came back on.

  "How do they know it was Petra who parked the car? Did someone see her?"

  "I gave the L.A. police a copy of this when I filed the report." Vance opened his briefcase and handed me an eight-by-ten, full-length publicity shot. "It's recent. Taken less than a month ago. After the police here found the car, I gave them a copy, too. When they showed it around the immediate area, a waiter from one of the nearby restaurants recognized her right away. He told the officer he was outside having a smoke break when he saw what he described as 'this gorgeous babe' park the vehicle, get out, make sure the doors were locked, and then walk up the street toward the center of town. He even described the clothes she was wearing--the same outfit she had on when she got out of jail. There was no mistake."

  "Did he remember the date?"

  "Yeah. Late afternoon the same day she was released from jail. She must have driven straight up here after she left my place."

  "Why? Does she know someone who lives here?"

  "She may, but I'm not sure."

  "If she does, think there's a chance she's hiding out with them until the fuss over her arrest dies down?"

  "No way," Tim said with a sad but resigned expression I would have preferred not to notice.

  If I'm to do a good job, it's essential I keep my mind focused on the problem and my relationship with the client impersonal. Already I'm having difficulty with both. "Vance didn't call and apologize. Maybe she wants him to sweat a little."

  "She has a temper, but it doesn't last. Either way, she's been gone too long."

  The look on Tim's face made him appear so damn vulnerable, I wanted to hug him. I wanted to tell him everything would be okay, even though I didn't have the first clue whether it would or not, or even what was going on. I had no idea if his sister was alive, dead, or just temporarily misplaced. She might even be involved in another clever publicity stunt for all I knew. I'd seen enough of it growing up to know any type of publicity was supposed to be good.

  "Has she ever done this before?"

  "Not that I'm aware of, but I can't be one hundred percent sure. We weren't raised together." Tim shrugged and shook his head. "Our parents split when she was a baby, and I was ten. She stayed with our mom in L.A., and I went to live with my dad in 'Frisco. We did the visitation thing on holidays and during school vacations and we've made an effort to keep in touch since our parents died. But we're not very close. I won't say I know every last little thing about her because I don't."

  When you come from a show biz family like mine, you know celebrities have a habit of pulling the "now-you-see-'em, now-you-don't" trick. It's usually a short-term thing like rehab or some kind of medical or cosmetic procedure, and before you know it, they're back in circulation. Sometimes though, as happened in the case of my maternal grandmother, they go out one day and don't ever come back.

  I glanced at my brother. "How long have you known Petra?"

  "A little more than a year, I guess."

  Something about the brittle quality of his voice and the worried expression on his face confirmed my gut feeling he was still holding back what might possibly be useful i
nformation. "And?"

  He snuck a quick glance at Tim, then returned his attention to me. "And I thought the two of us had something special going on. Apparently, I was wrong."

  "As in a casting couch quickie or were you an item?"

  Vance gave me a nasty look. "Don't be crude, Greg. I asked Petra to move in with me."

  "And?"

  "She promised to think about it. And before you ask, I've come to realize I don't know her any better than Tim does. All I can say is she's good at her craft, but she's a very private person when it comes to her feelings and the personal side of her life. Except for what happened at the awards ceremony, which I've already said was pre-arranged, during all the time I've known her, she's never done anything to put herself in the public spotlight."

  "Did any of your publicity people stop to consider how she'd react to being arrested and held overnight? For a first-timer, it can be a pretty traumatic experience. Maybe she needed time out to chill."

  "After she was booked, she spoke to one of our lawyers and told him she was fine."

  "I see." I scratched my head, wondering what they expected from me and, at the same time, hoping it wasn't going to be a toe-to-toe battle with Chief Fox by telling him to get his finger out. Foxy doesn't like me any more than I like him, and that's part of the reason I quit the force. Still, we've always been civil to one another and, if I expect to continue in business, I need to keep it that way. "So...one of you want to cut to the chase?"

  "We're hoping you can succeed where the police have failed," Tim said.

  "And we're hoping you can do it on the basis of some new information I've been given," Vance added.

  "Sorry, guys. I can't interfere in an open police case."

  "We understand that, and you won't have to. Case is closed," Vance said with a sigh. "Our calls weren't being returned, so we decided to pay the cops here a visit."

  "Who did you see?"

  "I asked for the officer in charge of the case, but he wasn't available so we got to see the chief. We told him we had new information. One of Petra's friends called me yesterday. She said a while back Petra was involved with an off-duty cop she met at a party. The friend thought the affair was over, until a mutual friend mentioned hearing where Petra was last seen and where her car was found. The cop is with the Amethyst Cove P.D., so she figures they must be back on. She couldn't remember his name, but thought it began with an F. Maybe something like Frank or Fred."