Poppy Harmon and the Pillow Talk Killer by Lee Hollis (most read book in the world .txt) 📕

man did not turn and make eye contact with Poppy yet. He just sat next to her, quietly watching the movie except for the loud crunching sound from eating his popcorn.

Poppy had never seen him enter the theatre, which probably meant he had already been one of the people in their seats, and just stealthily moved up to the back row and next to Poppy once the movie started.

The action on the big screen was taking place at night, and so the theatre was nearly pitch-black. Poppy could not see the face of the man who was sitting next to her, but when the scene cut to the following morning, the wide screen filling up with bright, blinding daylight from the sun, the whole theatre seemed to illuminate, and Poppy was able to finally identify the man who had urgently summoned her to the Mary Pickford.

It was Fabian Granger.

The tenacious, dogged, camera-ready investigative reporter who Greta had unceremoniously kicked off the set of Palm Springs Weekend for trespassing.

“Thank you for meeting me,” Fabian said in a hushed tone, eyes straight ahead, inhaling another handful of popcorn.

Poppy leaned over close to him and whispered, “Why all the subterfuge?”

Fabian scanned the theatre to make sure no one had moved to a seat closer to them in order to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“You need to be careful, people are watching you,” he warned, wiping some greasy butter off the corner of his mouth with a wadded-up napkin in his hand.

“Me? Whatever for?” Poppy gasped.

“You’ve rattled a few monkey cages, and now the monkeys are upset and agitated,” he said flatly.

“Hal Greenwood?” Poppy guessed.

Fabian nodded. “I just thought you should be aware. I’ll give you my phone number in case anything else develops.”

After exchanging phone numbers with Poppy, he started to get up to leave, but she reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait, how do you know this?”

Fabian sat back down. “I have been working for months on an exposé of Hal Greenwood, and I’ve turned up a lot of deeply disturbing information. As I talked to people in his orbit, it got back to him and he started harassing me with phone calls, threatening to sue me for libel, spreading rumors about me to ruin my career, attacking my family, but I just kept my head down and kept going. . . .” A man a few rows down turned around in his seat and hissed, “Shhhh!”

Fabian lowered his voice. “When verbal threats didn’t work, he hired some unsavory types to follow me around, and report back to him what I was up to. . . .”

“What kind of unsavory types?” Poppy whispered.

“A couple Ukrainian spies, hired by an Israeli private detective agency, real tough guys meant to intimidate me. I’ve been seeing them outside my LA apartment watching the building, tailing me when I’m driving around, keeping track of my movements. Last month, I found a GPS tracker attached to the undercarriage cover of my car.”

“Oh my . . .” Poppy murmured. “And you think I’m now a target too?”

“Yes,” Fabian said. “You set off a lot of alarm bells when you showed up at Greenwood’s office yesterday. I have an inside source who tells me you’re now on the list. Greenwood wants to find out what you know, and how bad it is for him.”

Poppy leaned back in the comfy leather recliner and took all of this in, stunned. If Hal Greenwood was going to the trouble of having her followed, what lengths was he willing to go to make sure she did not find the truth? Was her life in danger? Was Matt’s?

Poppy had many more questions, but Fabian was done with his stark warning and ready to go. He stood up to leave again, but knelt down next to Poppy, and with a darkened, dead serious expression whispered, “My source also has reason to believe your office has been bugged.”

And then, in a flash, he shot back up to his feet, and dashed out of the theatre, leaving a flabbergasted Poppy behind.

Chapter 28

“Bugs? We do not have bugs! It is impossible!” Iris snorted disdainfully. “I had the exterminator come out and spray my whole house and this garage less than a month ago when I saw a cockroach in my dishwasher!”

Poppy, eyes widening, put a finger to her lips, frantically signaling Iris to stop talking.

But Iris missed the cue.

“Let me see this bug you found!” Iris insisted as she marched over to Wyatt, who quickly squeezed his fist shut and shook his head, fearing if she saw what was in his hand, she would further alert whoever was listening to what he had found.

Poppy had once again been duly impressed with Violet’s grandson. When she had arrived at the office to find Matt and Wyatt playing a video game, she had written down on a piece of paper what Fabian Granger had told her. Poppy and Matt fumbled around, not sure what to even look for, but it had taken Wyatt less than a minute to locate a small square black device about an inch in diameter attached to the back of his desktop computer, which was facing the wall and out of sight.

Matt, always eager to showcase his acting talent, leaned into the device and began rattling off all kinds of false information about how they were ready to give up on the Danika Delgado case, how Hal Greenwood was no longer a suspect in their minds due to lack of evidence, how they were ready to move on and look for an entirely new case to investigate.

That’s when Iris blew in after her morning golf game and threatened to blow everything up. Poppy had tried to calmly explain what was happening, talking low enough so Iris could hear but not loud enough for her voice to be picked up on the transmitter. Her effort, however, only managed to thoroughly confuse Iris.

“Why are you whispering? I can barely hear you!” Iris shouted. “What is going on