her latest trip to Vegas.
Basically we were all hostage while waiting for LAPD to come and question us.
I wondered about access to the building. Could someone have slipped in and out without our knowledge?
“Where’s the other guy?” Ty asked. “What’s going on with him?”
He meant Paul, of course, but I ignored his question. If Paul had blown his cover it would be up to him to regain it. I didn’t need to be involved.
Edward’s hand brushed mine and we made eye contact. “Are you okay?” he mouthed.
How could I be okay with two accidents in the span of a few days, especially when I had the sickening sensation that they could be related to me? Was the woman I’d put behind bars, Teresa/Florencia, husband-killer, responsible?
Becca stood to refill her coffee cup. The counter was a good distance away from the group. Out of earshot, if we were careful. I sidled up next to her.
“I’m freaking out,” I whispered.
She grabbed my wrists. “I know!” she whispered back.
“What’s access to the building like?”
She frowned. “What do you mean? We all have key cards.”
“Who’s we?”
“Everyone who works for the studio.”
“You mean, beyond everyone that’s here?” I asked.
She nodded. “Oh, yeah, there’s probably about fifty of us or more.”
“Do you have to use your key card when you go from one section of the building to the other?”
Becca shook her head, her auburn curls bouncing around like crazy. “No, only to come into the main building. This is a newish studio. They should have the dressing rooms and greenroom secured, but they were having problems with the wiring and stuff, so they made it general access.”
“Well, it’s something. LAPD will be able to pull the access records, see who all was in the building. Does Florencia have access to the building?”
“Sure. I looked her up last night, though.” Becca glanced at Cheryl to make sure we weren’t being monitored and then lowered her voice a notch. “I asked her hiring manager for a favor and she pulled her personnel file, said everything looked fine.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I’ll let Paul know. He can run a background check.”
At the mention of his name, Paul strode through the break room doors accompanied by two uniformed cops. The dragon lady jumped out of her chair as soon as she saw them.
“Well, it’s about time. You’ve had us all waiting forever! What is going on?” Cheryl demanded.
One of the officers stepped forward. “Sorry about that, ma’am. We have an unfortunate situation developing. We’ll be needing to speak to each of you individually. If you’d all please have your identification ready—”
“Wait a minute!” Cheryl shrieked. “You can’t come into my studio and start barking out orders—”
“You’ll never work in this town again,” I joked, imitating Cheryl’s voice and manner of speech.
Everyone laughed, except the dragon lady herself. She gave me a look that would freeze hell over.
One of the cops held the proverbial olive branch out to me. “Shall we start with you, miss?”
He may have been trying to save me from the dragon lady, but I felt like I was going straight from the frying pan into the fire.
• • • • • • • • •
T he officer who escorted me down the hall into an empty room was tall and lean, probably in his midforties. He looked haggard and just as bitter as every other officer I’d served with. Paul followed us inside the room and took his usual cop stance, feet hip-width apart and arms folded across his chest.
Part of me wanted to back right out of the room. What? Was I here to answer Paul’s questions?
I was annoyed at how fast he’d become all buddy-buddy with the L.A. cop.
They called it a brotherhood, not a sisterhood, for a reason.
I suddenly missed the protectiveness of Edward; hell, I even missed Scott’s stupid ghoulish and inappropriate behavior.
I patted the pockets of my
Basically we were all hostage while waiting for LAPD to come and question us.
I wondered about access to the building. Could someone have slipped in and out without our knowledge?
“Where’s the other guy?” Ty asked. “What’s going on with him?”
He meant Paul, of course, but I ignored his question. If Paul had blown his cover it would be up to him to regain it. I didn’t need to be involved.
Edward’s hand brushed mine and we made eye contact. “Are you okay?” he mouthed.
How could I be okay with two accidents in the span of a few days, especially when I had the sickening sensation that they could be related to me? Was the woman I’d put behind bars, Teresa/Florencia, husband-killer, responsible?
Becca stood to refill her coffee cup. The counter was a good distance away from the group. Out of earshot, if we were careful. I sidled up next to her.
“I’m freaking out,” I whispered.
She grabbed my wrists. “I know!” she whispered back.
“What’s access to the building like?”
She frowned. “What do you mean? We all have key cards.”
“Who’s we?”
“Everyone who works for the studio.”
“You mean, beyond everyone that’s here?” I asked.
She nodded. “Oh, yeah, there’s probably about fifty of us or more.”
“Do you have to use your key card when you go from one section of the building to the other?”
Becca shook her head, her auburn curls bouncing around like crazy. “No, only to come into the main building. This is a newish studio. They should have the dressing rooms and greenroom secured, but they were having problems with the wiring and stuff, so they made it general access.”
“Well, it’s something. LAPD will be able to pull the access records, see who all was in the building. Does Florencia have access to the building?”
“Sure. I looked her up last night, though.” Becca glanced at Cheryl to make sure we weren’t being monitored and then lowered her voice a notch. “I asked her hiring manager for a favor and she pulled her personnel file, said everything looked fine.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I’ll let Paul know. He can run a background check.”
At the mention of his name, Paul strode through the break room doors accompanied by two uniformed cops. The dragon lady jumped out of her chair as soon as she saw them.
“Well, it’s about time. You’ve had us all waiting forever! What is going on?” Cheryl demanded.
One of the officers stepped forward. “Sorry about that, ma’am. We have an unfortunate situation developing. We’ll be needing to speak to each of you individually. If you’d all please have your identification ready—”
“Wait a minute!” Cheryl shrieked. “You can’t come into my studio and start barking out orders—”
“You’ll never work in this town again,” I joked, imitating Cheryl’s voice and manner of speech.
Everyone laughed, except the dragon lady herself. She gave me a look that would freeze hell over.
One of the cops held the proverbial olive branch out to me. “Shall we start with you, miss?”
He may have been trying to save me from the dragon lady, but I felt like I was going straight from the frying pan into the fire.
• • • • • • • • •
T he officer who escorted me down the hall into an empty room was tall and lean, probably in his midforties. He looked haggard and just as bitter as every other officer I’d served with. Paul followed us inside the room and took his usual cop stance, feet hip-width apart and arms folded across his chest.
Part of me wanted to back right out of the room. What? Was I here to answer Paul’s questions?
I was annoyed at how fast he’d become all buddy-buddy with the L.A. cop.
They called it a brotherhood, not a sisterhood, for a reason.
I suddenly missed the protectiveness of Edward; hell, I even missed Scott’s stupid ghoulish and inappropriate behavior.
I patted the pockets of my
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