Deadline by Fern Michaels

Brentwood. Before she’d been appointed editor in chief at The Informer, she had spent most of her free time remodeling her house. It had turned out quite nicely.
    â€œNo, it’s too far for you to drive. It’s late. I’m going home, Chester hasn’t had his dinner yet. I will be fine. I just wanted to check in and tell you I was sorry.”
    â€œPromise to call me when you get home? I need to know you’re safe before I can even think about going to bed. Your godmothers are still awake, too.”
    â€œOf course I will,” Abby said, then clicked off.
    Her mother was just as concerned about Chris as she was though their lines of thinking weren’t the same. Abby was wondering about the possibility that Chris and Laura had taken off for a romantic holiday. As an entertainment attorney, Chris found himself escorting some of Hollywood’s most sought after actresses to all sorts of events. He’d told her more than once it was a job requirement that he wasn’t very fond of, but Abby wasn’t sure if she believed him or not. What guy in his right mind wouldn’t want a sexy starlet hanging on his arm? Chris denied any attraction to the women he escorted, telling her it was only work to him and that there were lots of other things he would rather do with his evenings, but Abby still wasn’t one hundred percent convinced. Yes, she and Chris had gone out on more than one occasion. Yes, she was very attracted to him. And she thought he was attracted to her, too. While neither claimed exclusive rights to the other, Abby was pretty sure Chris felt the same way she did. Abby sometimes felt like they were playing a game. You show me your feelings, and I’ll show you mine, yet both remained poker-faced, waiting for the other to make the first move.
    As she pulled out of her parking place across from Hot Wired, she told herself that if she found Chris, she would tell him how she felt. Well, only if he wasn’t involved with the missing actress. If he was, she would continue in her role as nagging younger stepsister even though she’d never really had a sibling-like relationship with him. He’d gone away to college before Abby was old enough to get to know him. By the time he graduated from college, she was in college herself, studying for a career in journalism.
    And now she was out searching for him like some lovesick teenager. The streets of Los Angeles had settled down for a few hours as the has-beens, wannabes, and were-nots partied in the dozens of clubs LA offered. The club-hopping traffic would only last for an hour or so more. Come sunrise, all the main highways would have bumper-to-bumper traffic and the infamous LA freeways would become elongated parking lots if a single car were to overheat, stall, or become involved in an accident. It was the perfect time for her to call it a night.
    She wound her way through the back streets, heading toward the main highway to Brentwood. Chester, head on his giant paws, yawned. “When we get home, I’m making you bacon and eggs, Buddy.”
    Poor Chester, Abby thought. He was the best friend a girl could ask for. Didn’t matter that he was a German shepherd, he was her family. He hadn’t made a sound all night, except for the one time she let him out to take care of business. He recognized the word home. Rising in the seat, he peered out the open window, searching for the house. When Abby pulled her bright yellow MINI Cooper into the driveway, Chester growled.
    She unlocked the dog’s seat belt, and he bounced out of the car, running to the backyard. She waited at the gate while he did his thing. If it were daylight, Chester would be searching for squirrels, but for some reason, at night the desire to chase the bushy-tailed rodents completely disappeared.
    Inside, with the doors safely locked and Chester at her heels, Abby flipped on several lights as she walked to the kitchen. The solid cherry floors