later a short, paunchy guy emerged from the back room. He had a full head of jet black hair, with just the hint of grey roots growing near the hairline, and his face was a weathered tan like he’d either spent too many hours at the pool or too many session under a tanning bed. He was dressed in a pair of pants that were tight enough to show off the shape of his wallet, ending in a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots. He’d kill it at a Johnny Cash look-alike competition.
“May I help you?” he asked, an eager light in his eyes as he took in Dana’s short skirt, long legs, and obvious It quality.
“We’re looking for Herbert Bowman?” Dana asked.
The man smiled, showing off a row of white veneers that were at least two sizes too big. “That’s me! What can I do for you lovely ladies,” he said, kind enough to make the compliment a plural even though I noticed his gaze had barely flickered to Marco or me.
“We’re looking for Becca Diamond,” Dana said.
“Oh.” His smile faltered for a half a second. “Uh, are you interested in booking her? I can check on her availability.”
I opened my mouth to set him straight, but Dana jumped in before I could.
“Yes! Yes, we are.”
“Wonderful,” Bowman said, clapping his hands. “Please, come into my office,” he instructed, leading the way into the back room.
“We are?” I whispered as the three of us followed the agent.
“What better way to corner her?” she mumbled back.
I nodded. “Clever.”
“Please, sit down,” the faux Johnny Cash said, sinking into a leather office chair behind his desk as he indicated a couple of metal chairs with seventies inspired orange and avocado prints on the seat cushions.
“Thanks,” I said, complying. The chair groaned under my weight, and I suddenly wasn’t sure if the chairs were inspired or original.
“So what sort of job is it that you’d like to hire Becca for?” he asked.
“Uh…” I shot Dana a blank look.
“Music video,” Dana supplied, lying seamlessly through her teeth. “See, I’m launching a music career, and I really need this first video to be fabulous.”
“Love it, love it,” Bowman said, his eyes shining with dollar signs. “Becca is an excellent dancer. And singer, if you need some backup.”
“That’s what we’re counting on,” Dana said, flashing him a big smile.
“I understand you represented Alexa Weston, too?” I jumped in.
At the name of his fallen client, his “on” face slipped, his eyes going moist for a moment. “I did. It’s such a terrible tragedy what happened to her. What a waste of talent.”
I murmured agreement and nodded. “Alexa and Becca where friends, right?” I asked.
Bowman nodded. “Yes. I often booked them together. But,” he quickly added, “if you’re looking for another girl, I have several clients who would be perfect to work with Becca on a music video.”
Dana shook her head. “No, that’s fine. We’re just interested in Becca.”
“When was the last time you saw Becca?” I asked.
Bowman paused. “Why?”
Oops, maybe too direct? “Uh, well, I just wanted to make sure that she still looks like the pictures we’ve seen.” Hey, I was catching on to this lying game.
Bowman nodded slowly. “I can assure you that she would not change her style without letting me know.”
“So, you’ve seen her recently?”
“I have. She was in here a couple of days ago and looked perfect. Camera ready,” he assured me.
“A couple of days ago. That was before Alexa died,” I noted.
He nodded. “Yes, they were both in. They were collecting their checks for a tampon commercial they did.”
“How big were the checks?” I asked, remembering the mention of the windfall.
Bowman frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t think that’s something I should share.”
“What she means,” Dana said, jumping in to save my horrible-liar butt again, “is that our production has a tight budget. We heard a rumor that Alexa and Becca were commanding higher pay lately, and we’re quite frankly a little concerned that we may not be able to match them.”
God, she was good. I nodded next to her like a bobble doll. “That’s right. We’re concerned.”
Bowman pursed his lips, and I could see greed warring with the fear of losing a paying gig. Finally fear must have won out as he leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk. “Look, to be honest, the commercial was a regional thing. I’d doubt the amount of the checks could pay their rent, let alone qualify as ‘high pay,’” he said, doing air quotes with his fingers.
“Is it possible they’ve been working under the table somewhere else?” I pressed.
Bowman shook his head. “No way. I’d hear about it. I’m very well connected.”
While his modest digs made me question the last part of that statement, I knew for a fact that Hollywood was a small world. Chances were he honestly would have gotten wind of them moonlighting eventually, especially if it was a high paying gig. And while Alexa and Becca may not have been brain surgeons, I had a feeling even they weren’t stupid enough to risk it.
Which meant Alexa’s windfall had to have come from somewhere else.
“So that means,” Dana said, her own mental wheels turning beside me, “that you booked them for all their jobs. Even the vampire parties?”
Bowman scoffed. “Great, you’ve heard about those?”
“Oh, have we,” Marco jumped in.
“Look, I told them not to do that job.”
“Really?” I asked, leaning forward. “Why not?”
“It ruined their credibility. That Sebastian character may have some ridiculous stuff going on at that place, but I know the kinds of movers and shakers that are into ridiculous extra curricular activities. Alexa and Becca were more likely to run into a big name director at one of the parties than they were at the farmers’ market. They were pigeon-holing themselves before they even got a part.”
“But you booked them on it anyway?”
“In case you didn’t notice, I’m not exactly repping Tom Cruise here,” he argued, gesturing around his office. “I gave them my honest opinion, they ignored it, what can you do?” He shrugged.
“Did the parties pay well?”
Bowman shook his head. “Well below scale. Then again, they aren’t exactly union jobs, if you know what I mean.” He paused. “Look, you want to book Becca or not?” Bowman asked, some of the eagerness he’d originally displayed having been questioned out of him.
Dana nodded. “Definitely. As soon as possible.”
“Great,” Bowman said, turning to an ancient computer monitor beside him and squinting at the greenish font. “She’s free all next week?” he offered.
“We were hoping for sooner,” I said. “Like… today?”
“No can do,” Bowman answered, shaking his head. “She’s booked tonight.”
“Where?” I asked, leaning in.
“One of those vampire parties at Sebastian’s place. She’s book from 10:00 PM on.”
“I knew it all came back to vampires!” Marco stage-whispered, grabbing my arm as we left Bowman’s.
“Okay,” I conceded. “Let’s say, just for kicks, that however Alexa came into her windfall is tied to the vampire parties.”
“I bet it was Fangs,” Dana said. “He looks loaded. I bet he was paying them to do something illegal.”
“He did seem a little cagy about what happens after the parties,” I agree. “Maybe he was paying the girls to sleep with his guests?”
“Hooker vampires? I love it!” Marco said, clapping his hands together. “Or, even better, maybe he was paying
