“Oh?” He raised one eyebrow, leaning forward slightly.
I nodded and relayed the info Dana had shared with me that morning, watching his face for any sign of agreement. “If Margo did have it in for Mia, ” I finished, “maybe Dusty saw something she wasn’t supposed to when Margo offed Veronika, only Margo thought that Veronika was Mia, but maybe Dusty knew it was Veronika, or at least she did after she found her in the trailer the next morning.” Yes, I realized that put like that, my theory was about as twisted as an L.A. freeway. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t accurate. As I’d learned lately, people could be pretty twisted, too.
Ramirez sat back in his chair, his face a complete blank as he digested this.
Remind me never to play poker with this guy.
“So, what do you think?”
“I think it’s time for you to go home.”
I rolled my eyes. “I meant about Margo.”
But Ramirez didn’t answer, instead scraping his chair back as he made for the door. “Wait here. I’ll get a uniform to drive you home.”
“But…” I started to protest, then gave up. What was the use? Actually, I’d gotten off pretty lucky. He hadn’t arrested me, and neither of us had stormed out. All in all, it had been one of our better conversations lately.
I picked at my flaking nail polish (mentally making an appointment at Fernando’s) as I waited in the little room again. Finally, a guy in uniform blues with a greasy black mustache walked in, my purse in one hand, my shoes in the other. I had never been so glad to see anyone in my life. I thanked him profusely as I donned my pink pumps and followed him outside to slip into the backseat of his patrol car.
Under the uniform’s watchful eye, I dialed Dana’s cell, letting her know what had happened. She told me Steinman had, obviously, closed the set again today, and that she was going back to Ricky’s place to help him run lines instead. I told her to remember her celibacy pledge and said I’d call her later.
I sank back into the vinyl seats as we rode in silence toward Santa Monica. Even though I wasn’t under arrest, I felt slightly criminal sitting behind the divider between Officer Mustache and me, knowing that my doors didn’t open from the inside. I wondered how many big-time bad guys had occupied this same seat on their way to prison, where they knew they’d spend the rest of their lives. Carjackers, rapists, murderers. Murderers like Margo? I wondered. She was one of the few people on the set whom I hadn’t talked to much. Though until today she’d always struck me as harmless enough. In fact, she had a habit of fading into the background, and, with the exception of that one blowup on set, you tended to forget she was even there. I wondered if that would have been different if Margo had gotten the role of Ashley. If Mia were out of the way, I wondered what would happen to Nurse Nan’s character? She had been gaining momentum lately, especially with the baby-daddy story line.
Which brought me back to Veronika. Was it just a coincidence that she’d been pregnant and dating a mystery man? And if Mia had been the target, what was Veronika even doing in Mia’s trailer? I’d never been a big fan of puzzles, and this one was making my head hurt.
I was just about to reach into my purse and dig for an aspirin when the “William Tell Overture” burst out from its depths. Officer Mustache glanced at me through the bars in the divider.
“My cell, ” I explained, flipping it open. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Jasmine.”
My heart instantly sped up, and I gave a guilty glance at Officer Mustache, as if he could telepathically feel a “harebrained scheme” being cooked up in the backseat.
“Hi, ” I said in a low voice. “What’s up?”
“Why are you whispering?” she asked.
I cleared my throat. Then louder: “No reason. What’s up?” I gave Officer Mustache a reassuring smile in the rearview mirror. It came off a little feeble, but I think I saw him return it under his bristled lip.
“You asked me to call when he logged on, ” Jasmine said in a bored voice.
I held my breath. “Yes?”
“Well, he’s on. Logged on a couple of minutes ago.”
“A couple of minutes? You were supposed to call me the second he showed up!”
“Hey, I have stuff to do. I can’t just jump when you tell me, Blondie.”
I thought a really bad word.
“Okay, fine. Look, just keep him on. I’ll be right there.”
Officer Mustache glanced at me in the rearview, seemingly picking up on the panic in my voice. I sent him a one-finger wave. No return smile this time.
“Fine. I’ll try. But hurry.” Jasmine punctuated this by hanging up on me with a loud click.
I flipped my phone shut and tapped on the divider.
“Uh, excuse me?”
Officer Mustache glanced in the rearview again. “Yeah?”
“Um, could we possibly make a little stop?”
He frowned. “No can do. Detective Ramirez was very clear: I should take you straight to your place and wait for him there.”
Damn. My babysitter was well-informed.
I shifted in my seat, the vinyl giving an unladylike burp, as I tried a different tactic. “Um, what address did he give you?”
“Ten Ocean View Road.”
I crossed my fingers and hoped that Ramirez was up for forgiving me just one more time. “That’s the wrong address.”
Officer Mustache gave me a confused look over his shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘wrong’?”
“I moved. Recently. Ramirez gave you my old address.”
Mustache gave me a scrutinizing look. I held my breath, trying to look as innocent as possible.
“Maybe I should call Ramirez to verify it.”
“No!” I shouted.
Mustache jumped in his seat.
“I mean, uh, no need to do that. No need to bother him over something so trivial. Right?”
He narrowed his eyes at me again in the mirror. I did a poor imitation of Dana’s eyelash-batting thing.
Officer Mustache gave me a long stare, then slowly nodded his head. “Yeah, okay.”
Mental sigh of relief.
“Anyhoo…let me give you my new one.” I recited Jasmine’s address and felt a little lift of triumph as he pulled off the 2 and made a U-turn, heading back to the 101.
I quickly dialed Felix’s number, which, fortunately, he picked up this time.
“Felix Dunn.”
“Where are you?”
“On my way home from the studio. Why?”
“We’re a go, ” I said.
“Cyber guy?”
“Yep.”
“All right, I’ll get the trace on him ASAP. Just keep him logged in.”
“I’ll try. Call me the second you have him. I’m not sure how long Jasmine can keep him on the line.”
“Done.”
Felix hung up, and I felt a little lift of excitement. With any luck, we’d have our baby-daddy identified in a matter of minutes.
As it turned out, Officer Mustache was a cautious driver, and by the time we pulled up in front of Jas-mine’s den of iniquity, I’d picked every bit of nail polish off my fingernails and was tapping my foot so hard I feared I might break a heel.
“You live here?” Mustache asked, doing a low whistle as he parked at the curb.
“Yup. Thanks for the ride!”
“Detective Ramirez told me to wait.”
“Oh. Right. Okay, sure, whatever.” Honestly, at the moment I couldn’t care less whether Officer Mustache cooled his heels at the curb. All I cared about was whether or not Veronika’s boyfriend was still logged into the
