Web of Evil

enhanced news anchor successor. The promo was already in progress when Ali tuned in: ' amp;network executive who disappeared from his bachelor party last night. We'll have the story for you live on the evening news.'

Carrera! Ali had to give credit to whoever had dreamed up that name. It was calculated to be high-toned enough to appeal to L.A.'s Porsche-craving yuppies, but it also sounded vaguely Hispanicif you didn't look too closely at the blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. In Ali's not-unbiased opinion, Annette was far too young and far too perky. Her hair looked as if she had stuck her finger in an electrical outlet and then moussed the resulting hairdo into a froth of permanent peakslike whipped cream beaten to a turn.

Disgusted at the idea of having to wait another two hours to glean any additional details, Ali reached for her computer, intent on surfing the Net to track down a breaking-news Web site. As she touched the keyboard, though, she heard a new-mail alert. She paused long enough to read the new message.

Dear Babe,

I just saw a news blurb on your old channel. I've gone back to watching them even though I hate that new Annette person. Anyway, it said a man named Paul Grayson, some network bigwig, is missing. I seem to remember that was your husband's name. So is this your Paul Grayson or is it just someone with the same name?

VELMA T IN LAGUNA

No matter who he is, he isn't my Paul Grayson, Ali thought, but she sent Velma an immediate response.

Dear Velma,

Thanks for bringing this to my attention. The missing man most likely is 'my' Paul Grayson. Once I have more details on the situation, I'll try to let you know.

BABE

CHAPTER 3

For the next while, Ali surfed the Net. Her years in L.A. had taught her that Southern California news outlets had an insatiable appetite for anything involving the entertainment industrymovies or television. Paul Grayson was high enough up the network food chain that it wasn't long before Ali found what she was looking for, even though it offered little more information than she had gleaned from the earlier news promo.

NBC EXEC MISSING

Paul Grayson, long considered NBC's West Coast go-to guy, has gone missing after an early and abrupt departure from his own bachelor party at the stylish Pink Swan on Santa Monica Boulevard in West Hollywood. His red Porsche Carrera was found stripped and abandoned in an apartment parking lot in Banning early this afternoon.

There it was again. Everybody seemed free to refer to Paul as a bachelor, despite the inconvenient fact that he was still legally marriedto Ali. And what exactly was this 'stylish' Pink Swan? Probably some cheesy strip joint or pole-dancing outfit. Whatever it was, the name sounded suitably sleazy. The next paragraph, however, shook her.

A spokesman for LAPD's Missing Persons Unit said they have reason to believe that Mr. Grayson has been the victim of foul play.

'Foul play.' Ali repeated the words aloud. The very possibility that Paul had been victimized made Ali's earlier conversation with Detective Little seem much more ominous.

Jake Maxwell, who co-hosted the bachelor party, said the guest of honor departed early on in the proceedings. 'Somewhere around ten or so, Paul went outside to take a phone call and didn't come back. Everyone was having a good time. It was a while before anyone noticed that he hadn't returned.'

Because everyone was too blasted to notice, Ali thought. The news item ended. For several long minutes afterward, Ali wondered what, if anything, she should do. Finally, however, it seemed reasonable to let her divorce attorney know that Paul had now been declared a missing person. Ali picked up her cell phone and dialed Helga Myerhoff's number.

'What's up?' Helga asked.

'I thought you should know Paul didn't just miss his court appearance this morning,' Ali told her attorney. 'He disappeared from what they're calling his bachelor party' last night. There's some suspicion that foul play may be involved. His Carrera was found abandoned in an apartment house parking lot in Banning this afternoon.'

Helga was all business. 'How did you find this out?'

'Part of it I learned just now from reading a breaking-news Web site. The rest of it, though, came from a phone call from Detective Carolyn Little of the LAPD Missing Persons Unit.'

'Why did she call you?' Helga asked. 'And, beyond that, how did she even know to call you?'

'Since I hadn't seen Paul in more than six months, I thought it was odd that she'd be asking me for information, but Ted Grantham evidently told the detective I was in town and where I was staying.'

Ali heard a slight rustling on the phone and could picture Helga standing behind her desk and squaring her shoulders, bristling to her diminutive but tough-as-nails five foot two. 'What exactly did this detective say? And what's her name again?'

'Detective Carolyn Little, LAPD Missing Persons. She asked when I had arrived, why I was here, where I was staying, when did I last see Paul. All the usual stuff, I guess.'

'Did she mention the possibility that you might be under any kind of suspicion?'

The severity of Helga's tone put Ali on edge and made her wonder if perhaps Detective Little's questions weren't quite so 'usual' after all.

'Me?' Ali demanded, dumbfounded. 'Why on earth would I be a suspect?'

'Has Paul changed his will?' Helga asked.

'I have no idea about that,' Ali said. 'We're getting a divorce, remember? I've rewritten my will so Chris is my primary beneficiary in case anything happens to me. I would assume Paul has done the same thing in favor of April and her baby.'

'Not necessarily,' Helga mused. 'In my experience, men often put off handling those pesky little details.'

'What are you saying?' Ali asked.

'Let's assume the worst,' Helga said. 'Let's say Paul Grayson turns up dead, a victim of some kind of foul play. If you and he aren't divorcedand you're notand if, by some chance, his will hasn't been rewritten, it's likely you'll make out far better as a widow than you would have as a divorcee. From an investigative point of view and considering the dollar amounts involved, that might well put you at the top of the suspect list in a murder-for-profit scheme.'

'Me?' Ali asked. 'How is that possible? I had nothing to do with any of thisnothing at all. Besides, at the time Paul disappeared from his so-called bachelor party, I was out in the middle of the desert, somewhere this side of Blythe.'

'Let's don't push panic buttons then,' Helga reassured her. 'We'll just sit back and see what happens. But, in the meantime, don't talk to any more detectives without having your attorney present.'

'My attorney,' Ali repeated. 'You mean you?'

'No. Not me. I do divorces. I don't do criminal law,' Helga continued. 'That's a whole other can of worms. Not to worry, though. Weldon, Davis, and Reed has several top-drawer criminal attorneys on staff. I'll get a recommendation and have one of them be in touch with you.'

Great, Ali thought. Just what I need. Another frigging attorney!

Once she was off the phone, Ali paced for a while. Finally, she lay down on the floor and forced herself to do some relaxation exercises. After settling some of her agitation, she climbed up on the bed. She never expected to fall asleep, but she did, waking just in time to switch on the local news. Out of force of habit, she turned once again to her old station.

Of course, the amazingly perky and spike-haired Annette Carrera was front and center, but so was the rest of the old news gang. The foppish Randall James, still wearing his appallingly awful wig, continued on as co-anchor. There, too, was Axel Rod-bury, who, false teeth and all, had to be older than God. If Ali was considered over the