If Ira was somehow behind it, and Tommy was involved, did that mean Tommy was part of it too?
Layla shivered at the thought, causing Trena to misread her reaction. “I know,” she said. “It’s like the pieces of the puzzle are beginning to take shape; only the inside is still missing, so we can’t yet determine the face.”
Layla decided to keep the revelation to herself. Information was power, and she’d yet to meet the person who could keep a secret as potentially explosive as that.
She pushed her thoughts aside and focused on Trena.
“In the diary entry, she mentioned she owes her life to P,” Trena said. “Clearly P stands for Paul. I’ve been unable to locate him, which led me to believe the body found in Joshua Tree was his.”
Layla’s gaze narrowed.
“LAPD’s holding a press conference today—they identified the body.” She paused dramatically, as though imagining the at-home audience leaning closer to their TV screens.
Layla found it extremely annoying.
With a shake of her curls, Trena said, “Not him.”
Just like that, Layla felt a block of tension dissolve. Paul had served her a restraining order demanding she stay clear of Madison. It was a connection Layla couldn’t afford. Larsen would read it as motive. “Who is it?” she asked.
“Kevin O’Dell.”
The name meant nothing to Layla.
“A white male, forty-one years old, with an extensive criminal record. All petty crime, nothing that points to kidnapping or murder.”
“Then why was Madison’s tracker found with his body?”
Trena shrugged. “I’m sure he’s a suspect. But I also heard the body was purposely dumped there long before you arrived, so there’s a good chance he’ll be cleared. If you ask me, someone set the scene, then lured you there on purpose.” She glanced over her shoulder, as though she didn’t quite trust her surroundings. “We need to find Paul. He’ll lead us to Madison.”
“You think he kidnapped her?”
Without hesitation, Trena said, “Technically, I guess he could have, but I doubt it. I think he’s protecting her.”
“What makes you say that?”
Trena hooked a stray curl behind her ear. “He’s spent a lifetime doing exactly that. Why stop now?”
“A thing does what a thing is known to do.”
Trena quirked a brow.
“Something I read once. It stuck because it seemed simultaneously dumb and insightful. Anyway, in this case it applies. But don’t you think we should look into this Kevin O’Dell person?”
Trena nodded. “That’s how we find Paul. My gut tells me they’re linked. And when my gut speaks, I’ve learned to listen.” She gave a short laugh. “Well, most of the time.”
“So why include me?”
“Because you’re coming on my show, of course.”
Layla sat with the news. She should’ve guessed as much. “And what do I get in return? Aside from being on your show, which isn’t actually as valuable as you might think.”
Trena’s expression was patient. “Don’t kid yourself,” she said. “But if you need more, how about a letter of recommendation to the journalism school of your dreams?”
Layla paused a few beats to consider. “It’s a start.” She knew better than to display even the slightest hint of appreciation. “So, where to begin?”
“With Javen. Unless you know of a better hacker we can trust.”
“I can’t go near him. I won’t take the chance, not after the text I received.”
“Okay, so I’ll deal with Javen. And you?”
Layla lifted her chin. “I’m going after Ira.” She rose from the bench and straightened her skirt. Now that she’d decided, she was eager to leave. “Thanks for the talk,” she said, surprising Trena with her sudden departure. “It really did help.”
Before Trena could respond, Layla retraced her steps to her car. About to climb inside, she noticed a small envelope wedged under her windshield wiper, though of course there was no one around. Whoever was responsible for these things made a point of never being caught at the scene.
She ran a finger under the flap and retrieved a note written on high-quality card stock with a rhyme that read:
Seems like you’ve learned your lesson
So I won’t keep you guessin’
Meeting with Trena puts you on the right track
Though she has never truly had your back
She’s hiding a clue
And has no plans to reveal it to you
You can beat her at her own fame-seeking game
Or risk looking lame
It’s up to you to discover
I shall remain undercover
If you make me proud
I will sing your praises out loud
If not
I will make sure you rot
Without hesitation, Layla slipped the note into her bag, reached for her phone, and called Javen.
NINECAKE BY THE OCEAN
Aster Amirpour gazed out the passenger-side window and stared longingly at the pretty postcard view of Laguna Beach. With its iconic lifeguard tower and crowded pedestrian walkways, everyone looked so happy and trouble free, skating, strolling, and surfing their way through another hot summer day.
At the start of the season, Aster would’ve defined luxury as a closet full of designer dresses, handbags, and shoes. It was only now that she understood just how misguided she’d been.
Real luxury, true luxury, was having the freedom to embrace a beautiful day relaxed and unbridled from the sort of threats she currently faced.
“I can’t believe I don’t visit more often.” She sounded distant and dreamy, like they were merely enjoying an afternoon drive, and not on a mission to unearth the sort of clues that could change everything.
“I blame the traffic. That long stretch of freeway is a formidable barrier no matter what time of day.” Ryan exited Coast Highway and navigated a series of hilly, narrow paved streets, as Aster tracked the numbers on the haphazard row of mailboxes alongside the road.
The neighborhood was beachy and cute, pretty much what she expected to find in a small coastal town, though its quaint appearance was deceiving. Those small, charming cottages were known to consistently fetch an easy seven
