Syd found the cell phone video Friday morning when they finished cataloging the crime scene evidence and Syd thought to check Alice’s cell phone files. Syd was worried the D.A. would try to suppress the video so she sent it to a friend and it debuted on YouTube that night.
In a slightly distorted close-up the Lady in Red looks directly into the lens.
“My name is Alice Waterman. I was a rape victim. If I had been smarter, it never would have happened. If I had been braver I would have gone to the police. But I was weak and did nothing. The men who attacked me flourished while I suffered every day for years.
“Well, I got smart, got brave and did something. I killed the men who raped me and mutilated their precious cocks.
“Men everywhere are going to hear what I’ve done.
“Men everywhere will know it can happen to them.
“If I could do it, you can do it.
“Be brave, be smart, fight back.”
Simply put, those three videos transformed the Lady in Red from serial killer to folk hero. While the talking heads on FOX News, CNN and MSNBC debated Alice’s cold-blooded vengeance, every woman who watched Alice shoot Blake between the eyes was filled with grim satisfaction. Alice’s wish for inspiration and empowerment was realized.
And the lives of many people on the case were changed forever. The Watermans were deluged with offers for books and movies but were proceeding cautiously; they were determined to honor Alice’s memory.
Liz was interviewed by Bill O’Reilly and her blunt, irreverent personality made her an instant hit. She became a sought after TV commentator whenever a new murder case captured the nation’s imagination.
Lieutenant Hanrahan was bumped to Captain and offered a desk downtown. But Hanrahan liked Hollywood Homicide so he said thanks, but no thanks. However, his dental checkup was a disaster. The sugar from sucking so many Tootsie Roll Pops had ravaged his teeth. He had to have six cavities filled, gave up the candy and went back to sucking Marlboros.
Tony Ramirez was working harder than ever. Besides his job at SID, he spent every evening working on the launch of the first Mirabelle’s Meatballs restaurant — because the first thing Ryan did when he got his three point four million dollars from the California Lottery was to write Tony a check for two hundred thousand dollars to get his franchise dream started.
Ryan and Syd refused all requests for interviews. Ryan didn’t want to discuss having to kill the now beloved Lady in Red. And Syd’s quest for fame now seemed childish. A homicide cop’s business is other people’s tragedies, and to seek celebrity at their expense was just plain sleazy. Besides, with fame comes examination and Syd wasn’t particularly interested in people digging into her past. Some things are best left secret.
Thousands of people filled the cemetery as Father O’Malley read his eulogy over Alice’s open grave. Syd stood off to the side with Ryan. Her eyes traversed the faces; the friends, the family and the strangers who were so touched by Alice’s story they felt they had to be there to pay their respects. Syd finally settled on Betty Waterman. The woman whose heart ached the most.
Tears ran down Betty’s face. The depth of Betty’s grief touched Syd. And Syd couldn’t help compare Betty to her own mom. Did she cry when she realized Syd had run away? Did she ever cry now? Was she even alive?
Suddenly Syd felt an overpowering desire to know.
As Alice’s body was lowered into the earth, Syd whispered to Ryan that she’d be right back and she walked to a private spot on a tree-lined hill facing the Pacific.
Syd took out her cell phone, closed her eyes trying to remember her old phone number and dialed.
It rang.
Eleven years is a long time; odds were if her mother was still alive, she’d probably have moved.
It rang again.
And what would she say to her? Hi, mom, it’s me. How you doing?
It rang again.
And if she gets a machine, should she leave a message or call back?
It rang again.
Okay, Syd thought. Nobody’s home and no machine. Sorry, Mom, you missed your chance. She reached to hit End when the phone was answered.
“Hello.”
Her mother’s voice; even after all these years Syd recognized it instantly.
“Hello?” Amanda Stevens repeated.
Her mother’s voice triggered a fearful little girl inside Syd, ashamed and terrified.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Syd’s heart pounded, tears flowed. But somehow she fought back the temptation to hang up. “Mom,” she said finally. “It’s me. Syd.”
There was stunned silence then, “Oh, my God, Syd. Where are you, baby? How are you?”
And Syd told her.
BUT WAIT!
Before you go, we’ve included an excerpt from another novel by James L. Conway — a wild and wicked thriller full of humor, unforgettable characters and nonstop action — Sexy Babe…
EXCERPT FROM SEXY BABE
ONE
The worst day of my life began with an orgasm.
His, not mine. So what else is new?
His name was Jason Settles, an actor who had that bad-boy thing going on. Jason had long sun-bleached hair, brown bedroom eyes, a perpetual three-day beard and these incredibly perfect white teeth, well, caps really, but this was Hollywood and everyone had caps, or wanted them.
Jason was usually typecast as Sexy and Dangerous, and his girlfriend, Grace Taylor, that’s me, was usually cast as the cute, perky, blonde, blue-eyed Girl Next Door. Which, I guess I looked but rarely felt like.
Jason lived on Wonderland Drive just off Laurel Canyon in this little blue bungalow with a hot tub in back. It seemed like every house in Laurel Canyon had a hot tub, some kind of weird remnant of the 70s, I think. It was in that hot tub that Jason and I had first made love. And the answer is no, I didn’t get off that night either. To be perfectly frank, I generally need a little mechanical help, if you know what I mean. It kind of freaks guys out, though, when you ask them to use a vibrator on you. Makes them feel inadequate or something. So I usually just fake it and take care of myself later.
Okay, that’s probably too much information. Anyway, after Jason’s wham bam thank you Grace, he climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom. “You want the shower first?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I need to get home and change. I’ve got an audition at ten.” Then I bolted up in bed. Shit! My agent was supposed to fax the scene to me here at Jason’s house. I leapt out of bed and raced to Jason’s fax machine. Thank God, the scene was there.
It was three pages. Not bad, I thought, walking back to the bathroom. Usually, the more pages the better the scene. Then I read the character name: Sexy Babe.
“Oh, no,” I muttered as I joined Jason.
“What is it?” he asked through a mouthful of toothpaste.
“My character. It’s Sexy Babe.”
“The role’s not even big enough for a character name?”
I scanned the material, just two lines in a three-page scene. This was bad. I was supposed to be reading for guest star roles, leads in pilots, break-out parts in edgy independent movies, not two lines as a nameless bimbo on NCIS. “I may not have worked in a while,” I said, insecurity filling every pore of my being. “But I’m not doing another bit part.”
“Hey,” Jason said, “look at the bright side; at least it’s not Sexy Babe #2.”
The bright side, of course. I’m good at looking at the bright side. In fact, I’ve got a deep well of eternal optimism. I just have to remind myself to tap it.