can.”
“Not a problem,” I said. “You were next on our list, anyway.”
Porter was African-American, short, bald, overweight, and Botoxed. His forehead was as smooth and tight as a baby’s butt, unlike the rest of his face. It wouldn’t surprise me if he tried to move in on Karma, take over as her manager, after the death of her agent and his own superstar client.
We began the questioning with Karma . She told us that she’d rescheduled her rehearsal last night and gone home right after my mother’s séance. Porter offered up that he’d last seen Trevon Jackson three days earlier at a business meeting in his office.
I then let Charlie and Pearl take over the questioning. Charlie began by asking Karma how her r elationship with Jackson began.
“We met when Trevon was a back-up dancer at a club in Newark,” Karma said through her tears. “I liked the way he danced and asked him to go on tour with me. That eventually led to Trevon working with my music producer and cutting his own album.” The singer stopped and blew her nose. “‘Kiss Me, Miss Me.’ It was LD’s …Trevon’s, first hit, as everyone knows.”
Charlie looked at me and shrugged.
Pearl spoke up. “Let’s talk about last night for just a moment.” The elderly detective had a smooth, pleasant voice that encouraged people to disclose information that other cops probably never got. “From what I understand, you arranged for the séance because you weren’t sure about Trevon’s fidelity. Can you tell us what you suspected?”
Karma wiped the tears from her green eyes. “I had no doubt that he was cheating. I really don’t know why I agreed to the séance. Everyone knew there were girls, lots of girls , around him.”
“You said you agreed to the séance,” Pearl said. “Was it someone else’s idea?”
“It was mine,” Vee said, returning to the family room. She’d wiped some of the mascara from her face. “I knew he was cheating. I thought the séance might give Karma some closure. I wish I’d never arranged it.”
Porter spoke up. “You should probably know, Detective, that Trevon was…” He paused, cleared his throat. “He was very active with the ladies.” His gaze drifted over to Karma. “I have no doubt that Trevon loved you, but we both know he just wasn’t able to resist certain temptations.”
Karma sniffed. “Yeah, especially those with fangs.”
It was the first time I’d seen the superstar display any anger. It was a positive sign. While I understood her sorrow over what had happened, she’d been disrespecte d and used by the man she planned to marry.
Ch arlie chimed in. “Fangs. Somebody wanna explain that?”
Karma looked at Porter. “You want to tell them or should I?”
“There was a woman,” Porter began. “She went by the name Myra. She’d been hanging around Trevon for the past several weeks. He thought she was some kind of vampire freak and, at first, didn’t want anything to do with her.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by that?” Charlie said.
“Myra was into a goth or vampire-type look,” Porter explained. “She always wore black, had lots of makeup and piercings. She even had her teeth filed into fangs. She wore these crazy clothes, black leather with lots of netting and cutout material—the kind of clothes that helped show off her considerable assets, if you know what I mean. She eventually wore Trevon down.”
“I’m sure that took a lot of work,” Karma said, tossing a tissue onto the table. Maybe she was declaring an offi cial end to her mourning period. Chandra Martin’s similar choice of attire crossed my mind, but the look Porter had described wasn’t that unusual, especially in Hollywood.
Porter went on, “Trevon eventually let Myra dance in one of his videos. He thought it might satisfy her and she’d go away. It didn’t. She kept hanging around until he finally banned her from his estate and all of his performances.”
“Did you ever meet Myra?”