Hollywood Ending by Kathy Charles Read Free Book Online Page A

pen down. ‘What kind of stuff?’
    I opened the fridge and took out a carton of milk. ‘Went to Universal Studios, took the tram tour. Can I take this?’
    She didn’t say anything, just nodded then looked down at her books. ‘I saw the most horrible thing on Oprah today.’
    â€˜Hmmm?’
    â€˜They had a story about a woman whose car was stolen and her baby was still in the backseat. She tried to grab the baby but the car sped off, her child still hanging out, attached to the car seat. She watched her child being dragged along the side of the road.’
    â€˜That’s a repeat.’
    Lynette pursed her lips. ‘Stories like that make you put your life in perspective,’ she continued. ‘Makes you realise how lucky you really are.’
    â€˜Just another day for you and me in paradise.’
    She examined me through her thick black lenses. ‘Have you done something to your hair?’
    â€˜It’s pink.’
    â€˜So it is. Do you like it?’
    â€˜I just love it.’
    â€˜Good. As long as you’re happy.’
    I leant over her casebooks. ‘What are you working on?’
    â€˜It’s a murder case,’ she said as she scribbled something on her notepad. ‘It’s gang-related.’
    â€˜Cool. Got any crime scene photos?’
    She put her pen down and adjusted her glasses. ‘Hilda, I find your fascination with murder a little disconcerting. This is a very sad and horrific crime.’
    â€˜But you said it was gang-related.’
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜So then he probably had it coming.’
    â€˜Life isn’t as black-and-white as that, Hilda. It’s not fair for you to judge other people when you have no idea what they’ve been through, the social and economic circumstances they were born into—’
    â€˜All right, you don’t have to give me a sermon. I’m not the jury.’
    â€˜Thank God for that.’
    â€˜Anyway, you’re the one obsessed with murder, not me. You made a career out of it.’
    â€˜I’m not obsessed with murder, Hilda. I’m helping people.’
    â€˜Come on, just one look—’
    I tried to slide one of the case folders away with my finger but Lynette snatched it back.
    â€˜No, Hilda. Trust me when I say you are better off not seeing this.’
    I had never viewed any of Lynette’s case files. She kept them under lock and key, never once made the mistake of accidentally leaving one out. Did she have any idea what I had access to on the internet?
    â€˜You’re probably right,’ I said. ‘Wouldn’t want to warp me now, would we?’
    I was halfway out of the room when Lynette spoke again. ‘You know, we could feed a third-world country with the amount of dinners I’ve made for you and you’ve never eaten. It’s very wasteful.’
    â€˜I’m not hungry.’
    â€˜And I suppose you got everything you needed at the Connors’ house?’
    â€˜No, I’m just not hungry,’ I lied, my stomach still full of chocolate chip cookies.
    â€˜Well, I hope you’re more grateful to Mrs Connor than you are to me. I’d be very embarrassed if you weren’t.’
    I went back over to where Lynette was sitting and gave her a kiss on the forehead. ‘Sorry.’
    â€˜Next time call.’
    â€˜Okay!’ I yelled over my shoulder as I left the room, taking the milk carton with me.

SIX
    John Belushi once said that happiness is not a state you want to be in all the time. I knew what he meant. He was talking about the uncontrollable urge to fuck it all up, the desire to put a knife in the toaster of existence just to see what would happen. To put a bomb under your blessings and watch them blow sky-high, swan-dive off the precipice and give in to the free fall.
    Belushi had it all: money, fame, a wife, a home. But he didn’t want to live in the safety of these creature comforts. He wanted to