“The shocking double murder of actress Antonia Schifman and her driver.. .”
'We're taking you live now to Beverly Hills . .
'Patrice Bennett's former assistant on the line .
Many of them were national broadcasts, everything from CNN to F! Entertainment Television.
Galletta pushed a button that muted the sound.
“This is the kind of crap that some reporters live for. I've got a twenty-four-hour detail on both crime scenes just to keep these assholes away, plus the damn paparazzi. It's totally out of control, and it's going to get much worse. You've been through it. You have any suggestions?”
Did I eva We had all learned a few painful lessons about the double-edged sword of media coverage with the D.C. sniper case a few years back.
'Here's my take on it - for what it's worth, and I hope it's something. Don't try to control the coverage, because you never will,“ I told her. ”The only thing you can control is what crime-scene information gets out there. Put a gag order on everyone connected to the case. No interviews without specific permission from the department. And this might sound a little crazy, but get a couple of people onto a phone detail. Call every retired officer you can find. Tell them not to make any comments to the press, nothing at all.
Retired cops can be one of your biggest problems. Some of them just love making up theories for the camera.'
She gave me another sly smile. “Not that you have an opinion about all this or anything.”
I shrugged. “Believe me, most of it was learned the hard way”
While I spoke, Detective Galletta paced slowly in front of the big wall board. Absorbing the evidence. That's the way to do it. Let the details gather in the corners of your mind, where they'll be when you need them. I could already tell that she had good instincts.
Healthy cynicism for sure, but she was also a listener. It was easy to see how she'd come into her position so young. No could she survive this?
I said, “Just one more thought. Mary Smith is probably going to be watching what you do. My suggestion is, don't disparage her or her work publicly, at least not yet. She's already playing it as a media game. Right?”
“Yeah, that's true. I think so.”
Detective Galletta stopped and looked up at the silent TV images. “She's probably eating this all up with a spoon.”
My thought, too. And this monster needed to be fed very very carefully.
This lady monster?
Mary, Mary
Chapter 20
IT WAS JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT when I finally got back to the hotel at Disney and received some more bad news. It wasn't just that Jamilla had flown back to San Francisco. I already knew that much and figured I was in the doghouse again with Jam.
When I entered the hotel room, I saw that Nana Mama was fast asleep on the sofa. A cluster of pale-blue crocheting was still wrapped around her fingers. She slept peacefully, like a child.
I didn't want to disturb the poor girl, but she came awake on her own. It had always been that way with Nana. When I was little, all I had to do was stand next to her bed if I was sick or had a nightmare. She always said that she watched over me, even while she was sleeping. Had she been watching over me tonight? I stared at the old woman for a quiet moment. I don't know how most people feel about their grandparents, but I loved her so much it hurt sometimes. Nana raised me from the age of nine. I finally leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.
“Did you get my voice mail?” I asked.
Nana glanced absently at the hotel phone, with its flashing red message light.
“I guess not,” I said with a shrug.
She put a hand on my forearm. “Oh, Alex. Christine was here at the hotel. She came, and she took Little Alex back to Seattle. He's gone.”
My brain had a quick does-not-compute moment. Christine wasn't due to pick Alex up for another two days. She currently had custody of our son, but the trip to Disneyland had been talked out and agreed to. She even said it was a good idea.
I sat down hard on the edge of the couch. “I don't understand. What do you mean, she took Alex home? What's going on? Tell me everything.”
Nana shoved her crocheting into a tapestry bag at her side. 'I was so mad, I could've spit.
She didn't seem like herself at all. She was shouting, Alex. She shouted at me, even at Janelle.'
