Blacklist (Beautiful Idols 2)

“Dude, this is so messed up!” Tommy spoke to no one in particular.

Ryan looked on in shock, seemingly struggling to process the horror they’d stumbled upon.

“Guys, I—I think I found something.” Layla’s voice was edged with panic, as she fought back the bile that rose high in her throat. “Tommy, hand me that stick.”

“How can you be sure that’s a stick?” Tommy remained rigidly in place.

“Just—” Layla sighed and shook her head, as Tommy tentatively reached for what did indeed turn out to be a stick, and passed it to her.

“What on earth are you doing?” Aster looked on in a mixture of horror and fear as Layla pressed her lips together. Determined to disturb the scene as little as possible, she tapped the suspicious piece and used the pointed end of the stick to drag it toward her.

“Ryan, Tommy, shine some light on this.” Carefully, she pinched the object between her forefinger and thumb and dropped it on the center of her palm. “It’s the tracker,” she said, her tone lacking any hint of triumph. The moment instead resembled one of staggering defeat.

“And so . . . that’s it. It really is Madison.” Aster’s words rang as flat and broken as her expression.

“This is pretty much the worst news ever.” Tommy glanced between the microchip and Layla.

“Maybe.” Layla bit down on her lip, not entirely sure that was true, but wan

ting a moment to weigh her words before she tried to explain. “Assuming those are Madison’s bones in there, then yeah, it’s truly bad news.”

“Well, who else would they belong to?” Aster said. “Clearly Paul went rogue and killed her. He buried the bones in the desert where he expected no one to find them, other than the coyotes, and he’s probably on some remote island somewhere. In fact, has anyone looked into Madison’s finances? Because if not, they should. I bet he’s bilked her out of millions.”

“Of course the cops are watching her finances,” Ryan said. “It’s one of the first things they do. Not to mention how other than a nagging suspicion fueled by a few pieces of circumstantial evidence, we really don’t have any valid proof that Paul’s responsible for any of this. The way the cops will look at it, the whole thing can be made to point right back at Aster. So what if Paul fixed Madison’s past and had access to her deepest, darkest secrets—it certainly doesn’t mean that he killed her. What we need to do is find him and approach him. Only not in a suspicious way—we’ll act as though it’s purely out of concern for Madison. But first, we need to get the hell out of here and away from these bones, before someone blames us for putting them there.” Ryan jumped to his feet and took one last look at the grave. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m hoping that’s not Madison, but with the tracker right there, it’s not looking good.”

Without another word, Layla wiped the tracker against the leg of her jeans, placed it back where she found it, then stood up to leave.

The four of them were hurrying back the same way they came, when Layla’s phone chimed with an incoming text.

Seems the day of reckoning is finally here

You should’ve listened when I warned you had plenty to fear

But since you insisted on doing things your way

You left me no choice but to make sure you pay

And to think your star once burned so bright

Funny how much can change in the course of one terrible night.

“What the—?”

Layla didn’t even have a chance to finish the thought before the area suddenly flooded with light and a booming voice shouted, “Stop right there and put your hands in the air. One move and I’ll shoot.”

FORTY-SEVEN

DIRTY LAUNDRY

Trena Moretti settled into the makeup chair and closed her eyes as the stylist, Jasmine, fussed over her hair. There was something so relaxing about the ritual of being tended to. It reminded her of when she was a kid and Noni Moretti spent countless hours taming Trena’s wild mane into obedient rows of sleek, glossy braids.

“Do you think they did it?” Jasmine asked, to which Trena just shrugged.

Where she once would’ve sworn a definitive no, she was no longer sure.

Or maybe she no longer cared as much as she used to.

Leave it to the detectives to solve the mysteries.