She Cradled the Smoking Gun: Ch 7
Did mixed drinks in Santa Barbara mix with Lisa?
Click here for Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10
Stone called Lisa’s friend in Santa Barbara who confirmed that she had spent the night, as she often did, and said he’d be welcome to visit. He drove up the coast, heading on the 101 North out of the San Fernando Valley to Ventura and past the expansive views of the Pacific.
Glancing over the ocean gave him space to wonder about something that had been on his mind. Why did people kill their spouses and risk being locked in prison for decades instead of divorcing them, especially if they were wealthy? A woman like Lisa Kaye could hire a lawyer to negotiate a settlement that would allow her to live a comfortable life.
Santa Barbara had a Mediterranean climate with palm trees and plenty of broad leafy plants mixed in with the California scrub oak. The home of Selena Thompson was a one-story ranch that Stone figured was worth at least four or five million in the neighborhood.
Money poured in from producing a hit TV series and alimony from her ex — an executive producer on several films for Sony and other studios that crushed expectations and were wildly profitable.
Selena invited Stone in, led him to the living room, and spoke about her evening with Lisa.
“We’d gone out to eat, then to a concert, and were up until one or two a.m., then went to bed. And in the morning, she got that dreadful call.”
“Was it one a.m. or two a.m.?” Stone asked.
“I, uh, don’t remember exactly. I had a drink before we got home and Lisa had a few. I was preoccupied with helping her get comfy.”
Stone pressed. “What do you mean by that?”
“I wanted to make sure she got into bed and was comfortable.”
“So she’d had more than a few drinks?” asked Stone.
“Yeah.”
“Is that normal for her?”
“No. There’s been so much stress, just from Paul’s antics with his girlfriend and running around town. I wasn’t aware how much it impacted her. Almost like emotional abuse.”
“And what’d you do after you helped her ‘get comfy?’”
“I just remember closing my eyes and waking up around my normal time. About seven-thirty.”
“How much did you drink?”
Selena looked surprised, wondering what it mattered. “We started with margaritas. Lisa had one with the special tequila. I nursed mine all night, but Lisa had a couple more. She seemed upset about Paul and as we were talking she ordered a few mixed drinks and I guess it played with her head.”
Stone had an idea.
Could Lisa have snuck out of the house, driven to Encino, killed Paul, and then made her way back to Selena’s house?
If she had been impaired, then zipping down the freeway in the middle of the night, killing her husband, and turning around to head back north and climb back into bed would be nearly impossible.
“She was drunk?”
Selena sighed. “I hate to say it like that.”
“What happened between, say, two a.m. and seven-thirty?”
“Nothing, really. We slept. I woke up, made coffee, and that was it. Except I suggested we go out for breakfast. After all, who wants dirty dishes after tipping a few drinks? I got her up and as she was getting ready, she got a call from the police. Of course, she was quite upset and left immediately.”
“How was she when she woke up?”
“Not too bad. A bit groggy with a hangover. She is normally up around six and likes to care for her roses early in the morning. Getting up later for her is like sleeping in. Funny, right? Some women design fashion but Lisa’s planning to roll out her rose collection.”
“Did you think about driving down with her? For support?” asked Stone.
“She was in such a hurry and told me she wasn’t sure what was going on that she’d call me later.”
“Where did she sleep?” asked Stone.
Selena showed him a first-floor guest room toward the back of the house with easy access to the back door.
“How often do you get together?” Stone peeked into the bedroom and then he opened the back door and looked around.
“It varies. Sometimes weekly. Or every couple of weeks.”
“Who suggested getting together this time?”
“She did. But she had said I should spend the night at her place. I really didn’t want to so I suggested she come up here.”
“I see.” Stone asked a few more questions, then thanked Selena for her time, and stopped.
“Ms. Thompson, does she usually complain much about Paul?”
“How do you mean?”
“Did you ever see them argue, or did she talk about tensions or did she ever mention if he was physical with her?”
“No. She got annoyed with him and the people who were around him. Like that man who was bugging Paul to produce a new show … a Joe something.”
“Joel Burman?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He’s obnoxious. Big talker. Lisa would come up here just to escape people like that. The pretenders. The ones who felt successful because they hung around successful people.”
“Like they were after Paul and perhaps his money?”
“You know those Hollywood types. Deal makers who are broke in reality but make it seem like they can connect the money folks with the creatives and walk away with millions.” Selena scoffed. “They’d be better off going to the liquor store every day and buying lottery tickets.”
Stone glanced around the outside of the home before getting in his car. “Thanks for your time.”
He took off and drove through the streets and headed to the freeway, thinking deeply, envisioning Paul Kaye’s final moments, and sped toward an intersection. The light turned from yellow to red. Stone hit the gas and saw a flash of light.
Damn. Caught on camera.
Stone headed to the 101 Freeway onramp. Someone would have had to have scared Paul Kaye or disturbed him. He was fleeing. Then Stone wondered. The traffic light. Lisa Kaye.
He drove to the station, went to his desk, and made notes including tracking the family’s finances. The process of finding a killer was so involved. Initial checks on Paul Kaye’s circle of friends didn’t reveal anything. Everyone was shocked. No one had a clue. And no real suspects yet.
Begin Chapter 1 here: