The Cinderella Murder (31 page)

She snuck a glance through the door into the living room. LAPD detective Sean Reilly blended in with the camera crew, wearing blue jeans, a baseball cap, and the black
Under Suspicion
T-shirt Laurie had provided. He was the detective assigned to the assault on Jerry. He was young, probably early thirties, the only lines on his face the kind that came whenever a cop took his job seriously.

It had taken a long late-night phone call to explain the connection from Lydia Levitt to Steve Roman to Advocates for God to
Under Suspicion
to Jerry, but Reilly finally agreed to come to the set to hear what Keith Ratner had to say about the church’s involvement in all of this.

Nicole Melling was already waiting in the house. Laurie had to hope that when the time came, all the pieces to the plan would fall into place.

A white Lexus SUV pulled into the driveway at 10:02. Hathaway was driving. No one else was in the car.

“I thought you and Dwight would come together,” she said as he opened his door.

“My place is in Toluca Lake.” Hathaway must have registered her blank expression because he added, “It’s in Burbank. Great place. Private lake. One of the best golf clubs in the state. Anyway, Dwight still has his student crash pad in Westwood. Driving out of your way during the L.A. commute? No one’s that good of a friend.”

“We’ll get you in and out quickly, just a little background about Susan’s technology interests. Her father was a successful intellectual property lawyer, and they shared an excitement for the tech world. You can talk about that side of her in a way our other witnesses can’t.”

Dwight still hadn’t arrived by the time Hathaway had been miked and powdered by the makeup technician. It was 10:20. Laurie listened as Hathaway left yet another voice mail message for Dwight: “Hey, man. Laurie and I have both been calling you. Hope you’re on your way.”

“I don’t get it,” Hathaway said, slipping his phone in his sports coat pocket. “He’s usually so prompt.”

Laurie was kicking herself for not finding the time to return his “ASAP” call last night. She now had a feeling that he had been calling to cancel. “I wonder if the idea of the cameras scared him off on the eve of the shoot,” she said.

Hathaway shrugged. “Maybe. But he had been so eager to help with the show.”

Laurie had planned to get Dwight and Hathaway out of here shortly after Keith arrived. Otherwise, Keith might lose patience and leave.

She made a quick decision to proceed with Hathaway alone. He was telegenic. He had cachet, having earned his tenure in his early thirties and then moved on to help a protégé form a groundbreaking company. If she could rope Dwight back in later, Alex
could question him separately. It was more important not to ruin their plans for Keith Ratner.

•  •  •

As she had expected, Richard Hathaway was a natural on camera. “I had a lot of talented students at UCLA,” he told Alex, “but Susan was among the best. When she died, there was so much talk about her promising acting career, but I’ve always believed she could have gone on to be a star in the tech world. She could have been another Dwight Cook. Such a tragedy.”

His handsome face furrowed in thought, his voice resonating with the authority of a man who had been a professor, with step-by-step reasoning, he continued to talk about Susan and then, under Alex’s questioning, the night of her death.

“I remember the absolute shock of hearing on Sunday that her body had been found. Dwight was only nineteen years old then, the brain of a wizard but still adolescent in his relationships. It was impossible not to realize how he felt about Susan. Whenever they were in the lab together, his eyes were shining and he was smiling. When he got the awful news, he tracked me down at my home and cried in my arms.”

“Do you happen to know where Dwight was on the night Susan died?” Alex asked quietly.

“With me, actually. Dwight was in the throes of writing code for his project, and I knew he wanted to talk to me about it. I didn’t have any plans for the evening, so I called Dwight and asked him if he wanted to join me for a burger.”

“What time was this?” Alex asked.

“I called him around seven. Met him just after that at Hamburger Haven.”

“One more thing,” Alex added. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t mention the fact that you were very popular among female students and had a bit of a reputation as a Don Juan.”

Hathaway laughed. “Ah, yes. Most crush-worthy professor, according to the campus paper. All rumor and innuendo, I assure you. I’m convinced it’s inevitable when you’re a young, single academic.”

“So anyone who suggested you may have taken a more-than-professional interest in Susan . . . ?”

“Would be deeply mistaken. Not to mention, Susan was very clearly taken by her boyfriend. It broke my heart watching poor Dwight pine for her.”

Hathaway had been perfect, providing the touch of personality she’d been looking for. Dwight Cook was the face of REACH, but Hathaway was a hundred times better on camera than Dwight would have been.

She had just yelled “
Cut!”
when she heard the purr of a sports car outside the house, followed by the sound of a car door slamming. Keith Ratner was here. She could send Hathaway home. Perfect timing.

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L
aurie placed Keith in the same spot on the sofa where he’d been the previous day, wearing the same shirt, as requested.

“Again, I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “We lost the footage of you telling us where you were the night of Susan’s murder. If you can just repeat that, we’ll shoot you close in. It will look just like you’re sitting next to Madison and Nicole.”

“Sure, no problem.”

She double-checked that Detective Reilly was positioned with the camera crew, then gave the signal to start filming.

Alex started with the identical line he’d used the previous morning. “I thought we’d start,” Alex said, “by having each of you walk through where you were the night of the murder. Keith, would you like to begin?”

Keith repeated the same story he’d given many times over the years: he’d been at a bookstore with fellow AG members.

“Now, speaking of Advocates for God,” Alex said, “do you know this man?” He placed a photograph of Steve Roman on the coffee table in front of Keith.

Keith shot Alex, and then Laurie, a confused look. He picked up the picture for closer inspection. “Never seen him.”

“He’s a member of your church, and we believe he is determined to shut down this show’s production—using violence when necessary.”

Keith reached for the mic clipped to his shirt collar. They’d assumed he would try to leave once he realized they were departing from yesterday’s script, but at least they had him here. The LAPD was here. All they had to do was get him to say something that would give Detective Reilly probable cause to detain him.

“Keith, it’s important,” she said. “There are things about the church you don’t know.”

Keith’s gaze suddenly darted away from Laurie. She turned to see Nicole stepping from the kitchen. Nicole was terrified of retribution from Martin, but Laurie, Leo, and Gavin had convinced her the previous night to be present at the house, listening from the next room, in case she decided to help confront Keith.

“I told them about my fight with Susan,” she said. “They know I was the one who introduced you to Martin and AG. You know I left the church. Los Angeles, too. But I never told you my reasons.”

“You left because Susan was killed. She was your best friend.”

As Nicole took a seat next to Keith on the sofa, Laurie noticed Detective Reilly take a step forward. He was paying close attention.

“No, that wasn’t it. Keith, Reverend Collins is not the man you think he is.”

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K
eith Ratner could not believe the words that were coming out of Nicole’s mouth.

First Nicole claimed to have had a secret relationship with Martin, and now she was saying he abused a little girl?

“Nicole, these are crazy accusations. No wonder Martin was so worried about you being a part of this show.”

“I saw him with my own eyes, Keith. And you would not believe he was a good man if you heard the threats he made against me. Some part of you must see the truth. Look at his lifestyle. All that money he raises isn’t going to good works. It’s lining his pockets. And think about those families he chooses to help—always with young girls, always with vulnerable parents. I didn’t see the pattern either until that night. But I couldn’t prove anything. Who knows how many other victims he’s had? You can help. You’re in his inner circle.”

Keith covered his face with his hands. This was absolutely insane. “I haven’t seen you in twenty years, Nicole. Why should I believe you?”

“Ask yourself: How did Martin feel about your doing this show? Did he want you talking about AG?”

“Yes, in fact. I didn’t even want to do it. Martin’s the one who
pushed
me to accept.” But as Keith finished the sentence, he felt
a tug of doubt. He recalled the moment he first mentioned
Under Suspicion
to Martin. Keith had wanted no part of the show. He hated the idea of having his name dragged through the mud again. Martin had been the one to steer him here. Martin had wanted to know what Nicole was up to. His exact words had been,
You let me worry about my own enemies
.

But child abuse? Was it possible that Keith had devoted his entire adult life to a church led by a man who would do something so heinous? It was unimaginable.

He cleared his throat, as if it could somehow clear his thoughts. “What do you people want from me?”

A cameraman in a baseball hat lunged forward, a badge in his hand. When were the surprises going to stop?

“Mr. Ratner, my name is Detective Sean Reilly with the Los Angeles Police Department. Let me be straight with you. I’ve got Ms. Melling’s twenty-year-old recollection of an unconfirmed observation. I don’t have the name of whatever child she saw with your reverend. It’s not even close to the evidence we’d need for a prosecution. But I think you’ll agree that a person of good conscience can’t ignore this. You asked what we want from you? Under California law, police can monitor a telephone conversation with the consent of one party.”

“You’re asking me to turn on Martin.”

“You’re not
turning
on anyone. Just tell him two things.” Reilly ticked off his points on his thumb and index finger. “The police asked you about this man Steve Roman. And they raised the possibility of child abuse in the church. If he’s innocent, we’ll find that out. But if he’s not?”

Keith thought of all the hours he had spent at Martin’s side, delivering food to needy families. Without the church, Keith would still have been the shallow, insecure kid he used to be. Then he pictured all the young girls he’d seen in the families Martin helped. He
hadn’t seen Nicole for twenty years, but she was right about the type of family Martin preferred. And he couldn’t imagine Nicole lying about something so awful.

“Okay, let’s do it.” He said a silent prayer that this was all a misunderstanding.

•  •  •

While Detective Reilly prepared Keith for his phone call to Martin Collins, Laurie walked Nicole to the driveway, giving her a brief hug before turning her over to the care of her husband, Gavin. Two weeks ago, when Laurie first met the couple in their gourmet kitchen, Nicole had seemed distant and cold, still trying to cover secrets that were two decades old. Now Nicole couldn’t stop sobbing, and Laurie wondered whether the woman would ever regain control over her emotions.

But Laurie forced herself to focus on the hard facts. Even twenty years ago, Nicole had been mature enough to begin a relationship with Martin, an adult man. She had ignored Susan’s warnings about Martin and his so-called church. Even after she caught Martin inflicting perhaps the worst harm imaginable, she had buckled under his threats, running away and leaving the child behind.

Laurie could empathize with Nicole, but she couldn’t sympathize.

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