Scandal Sheet aka Hollywood Scandals

Luckily, the station next to Katie was vacant. I waited a three-Mississippi count, then grabbed a copy of Cosmo from a rack on the wall and sat down. Cal hovered just to my right, pretending to rearrange the brushes at the next station over. I gave him a look that clearly said, “stay out of sight!” then turned to the brunette fluffing her hair beside me.

“Hey, you’re Katie, aren’t you? Katie Briggs?” I asked.

She turned, a bored expression in her big blue eyes as if even she was tired of hearing that name.

“I’m…Jeannie,” I lied, sticking a hand her way. “I’m a huge fan. I love, love, loved your last movie! That scene with the mother, right before she died after being stabbed by the circus clown hired by the mob-so realistic!”

A smile tickled her oversized lips. “Thanks.” Then she turned back to the mirror.

Okay…so what now? I bit my lip. I couldn’t very well come right out and ask her if she was the one threatening my life. I tapped my nail on the plastic edge of my chair.

“You know, I’ve read all about you,” I said, vying with her reflection for her attention. “In the Informer.”

Her expression puckered into what would have been a frown had she not been a plastic surgery devotee. “The Informer?”

“That newspaper. Have you read it?” I asked.

She clenched her jaw, her lips drawing into a thin line. (Okay, considering she had about a gallon of collagen injected in her lower lip, maybe “thin” wasn’t an accurate description. But it was at least thinner.)

“I’ve seen it,” she spit out.

“Oh, you should totally pick up a copy. That Tina Bender, she’s a hoot!”

She glared at me. “Hoot?”

“Oh sure,” I said, forging full steam ahead. “The way she likened your love life to a string of bad Spanish soaps just yesterday. I swear, I spit out my latte at that one.”

“Tabloid trash. They’re all printing lies. Malicious lies.”

Malicious. My ears perked up. That was exactly the term Mystery Caller had used, too.

“Wow. I wonder how she gets away with printing lies. I mean, don’t you think someone should stop her?” I asked, carefully watching her reaction.

She swiveled in her seat, turning back to her own reflection. “Please. Like anyone really pays attention to what that kind of tabloid trash writes.”

Ouch.

Vehemently, I shook my head. “Oh no, a ton of people read that column. Tina Bender is very popular.”

I thought I felt Cal smirk to my right, but I ignored him.

“Ha!” Katie barked. “Someone should put that sad woman out of her misery.”

Again, ouch. But…now we were getting somewhere.

“Where were you last night?”

“Excuse me?” she said, her eyes shooting to mine in the mirror again as she clenched her jaw.

“I mean, did you go to any big Hollywood parties last night?” I asked, backpedaling. “I am just so fascinated by the lifestyle of an award-winning actress such as yourself.”

“Oh.” Her frown evened out instantly. Apparently flattery, as with all of Hollywood, was the key with this chick. “I went to a charity event. Some thing in the Valley. My publicist said I had to be seen there.” She turned to me. “But did that Bender girl print that? No!”

A-ha! So she did read my column. I felt a little lift of triumph.

“What about the evening before?” I persisted. The night the first call had come in. It would have been easy enough to send the email from a cell while at some fab party. But, for the phone call, Mystery Caller would have had to have access to a computer to run the voicealtering software. Not quite as inconspicuous a task.

“I was at home,” she answered.

“With a new guy?” I couldn’t help the gossip hound in me from asking.

“No. Alone.” And by the way she pouted again, this time with a true hint of sadness on her swollen lips, I was inclined to believe her. For a fraction of an instant I wondered if maybe the life of a famous actress wasn’t even lonelier than that of a gossip columnist.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fernando break away from Marco’s grasp, threading his way back through the salon to his waiting client. I chose my next question carefully.

“So, what do you do when you’re home alone? Ever spend time online, maybe trying out new programs?” Like Audio Cloak?

She turned away, flipping her hair over one shoulder. “I don’t own a computer.”

I froze. Then blinked at her. “Wait-you don’t own a computer? Seriously? Even African tribesmen own computers these days.”

Again she did the would-be-frown pucker. “They’re trappings of a digitized society. Modern technology is only serving to distance us from the reality of living. I prefer real human interaction. I’m an artist.”

Okay, her plastic surgeon was an artist; Katie was just a movie star.

Unfortunately, she was a movie star who couldn’t possibly be my mystery caller.

Stifling a wave of disappointment, I shoved the dogeared Cosmo back in the rack and slid off my seat just as Fernando approached.

“Well, great to meet you. Can’t wait for your next pic,” I called as I walked away.

Though I’m not sure it even registered. Katie was once again enthralled with her own reflection as Fernando appeared to fluff her hair into Rapunzel-worthy waves.

Cal followed a beat behind me. “So much for our starlet,” he mumbled.

“Well, one down, three to go,” I shot back, making my way back toward Marco’s Camelot desk.

“Sorry, doll,” Marco said, shrugging his slim shoulders as I approached. “I held him off as long as I could.”

“That’s okay,” I reassured him. “You did great.”

“Oh, but I’ll call you tomorrow. The Lohan’s coming in for a cut and color, and you know there’ll be dirt.” Marco gave me a wink.

“That’s my boy. Hey, check your inbox for payment later.”

I gave him a wink as we exited the salon.

I felt Cal shaking his head beside me.

“What?” I asked.

“I just can’t believe there are so many people willing to sell secrets to you. You ever think of working for the CIA?”

I grinned, soaking up the compliment. Even if it wasn’t intended as one. “Thanks. But, you know, not all of them do it for money.”

“Oh?”

“For some it’s revenge. Some it’s a feeling of importance. Others just like to see their quotes in print.”

Cal gestured back at the salon as he beeped his Hummer open. “So, what’s Marco’s story? He squeal for cash?”

I laughed. “Marco? Heck no.” I looked back at my flamboyant friend. “He’s much easier than that. As long as I send him the weekly Clay Aiken update, Marco’s a happy camper.”

Chapter Six

“Alright, so who’s next on our list?” Cal asked as he pulled into traffic.

“Jennifer Wood.”

“Tell me about her.”

Mental forehead smack. “You don’t know who Jennifer Wood is?”

Cal shot me a look over the rim of his sunglasses. “Humor me.”

“Fine. Jennifer Wood was a pint-sized singing sensation in her hometown, winning the local cable access reality show Sheboygan’s Got Talent at the age of ten. At twelve she went national with her first