“I’ll do that. Thanks.” She retrieved a card and passed it to him. “Please call me if you think of anything else that might be relevant to our case.”
“Sure thing.” He accepted her card, started reading the info there as she walked away.
At the front of the building Finley found the four large bulletin boards on each side of the corridor that stretched from the double entrance doors to where the club opened up, zooming three stories high and extending the width and remaining depth of the building. The boards were crowded with the narrow strips spit out by a photo booth. It took a little time, but Finley found one of Holmes all hugged up with a young woman she recognized immediately.
Cherry Prescott Inglewood.
27
6:28 p.m.
Inglewood Residence
Morning Glory Court
Brentwood
At the gate Finley pressed the call button.
A full ten seconds elapsed before the lady of the house said, “Yes.”
“Finley O’Sullivan. I apologize for showing up unannounced, but it’s urgent that I speak with you now.”
Another extended pause before the gates began their slow swing inward. Finley drove through and parked. By the time she was out of the car and up the steps, Cherry was waiting on the porch just outside the door. A yellow swimsuit adorned with a wrap in pastel colors showed off her fit body and her nice tan.
“We should talk out here. My husband is in the pool with our son, and I’d like to get back to them.”
“Tell me about this.” She held up her cell and showed the shot she’d made of Cherry all smiles while hugged up with Charles Holmes, the bland photo wall in the background.
Cherry looked away. “I was young and foolish. Everyone hung out at the Paradise.” She shrugged. “People would grab you and drag you into one of those old booths for a memento. It was free, and everybody did it.”
Really? Did she think she was getting off that easily? “This is Charles Holmes. You claimed you’d never had contact with him. Never even met him . . . and yet here you are.” Finley put her phone away. “I’m guessing you forgot about that incriminating photo.”
“I didn’t want to get dragged into this.” Cherry bit her lips together and considered what she wanted to say next. “My husband doesn’t know I spent some time in places like that one. I’m just trying to protect my son and my marriage.”
“I can understand that. Really I can. But you have to understand, one of my clients is dead, another, maybe two, are missing. No matter that Holmes is in prison, I one hundred percent believe he has something to do with this. If you know anything about him—anything at all—you need to help me find the truth.”
“I can’t help you.” Cherry reached for the door.
“If you refuse to help me,” Finley warned, “I’ll have no choice but to turn this information and the photo over to the detectives investigating his claims.”
Fury snapped in the other woman’s eyes. “Are you threatening me?”
“No,” Finley said. “I’m only informing you of the choices we are both faced with. You can help me, or you can help the police.”
“He’s crazy,” she said with a covert glance around. “Completely and totally nuts. He’s another of the reasons I had to go into hiding. I changed my hair.” She shuddered. “It was terrifying.”
Something on her right cheek, near her hairline, captured Finley’s attention. A slightly darker area shaped in a triangle or maybe a diamond. Birthmark? Finley hadn’t noticed it the last time they spoke or in any of Cherry’s many, many images on the net. Maybe she’d forgone makeup since they were in the pool.
Finley refocused on the conversation. “So the two of you had some sort of relationship?” Sure as hell sounded that way to Finley.
“I guess you could say we were friends. I had a lot of girlfriends who loved clubbing. Charlie—” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “He liked meeting new women. I introduced him to a lot of my friends. Everyone, myself included, was in awe of him back then. He was charming and confident. Talented. He could make you believe anything.”
“Did you ever see Cecelia or Olivia Legard with him? Maybe you introduced him to the twins. You worked for their father.”
“I didn’t introduce him to either of them. Cecelia and her friends came to Paradise all the time, using fake IDs. In fact, I told her father they were playing with fire. Cecelia hated me after that.”