Blacklist (Beautiful Idols 2)

Aster settled onto the couch, watching as Layla placed the box she’d found in Tommy’s car on top of the coffee table and lifted the lid. “You recognize this?” she asked, when Ryan mumbled under his breath, and Aster gasped.

Aster shook her head. “No, Not exactly,” she said. “But remember how I told you we found Madison’s empty file in Paul’s office? I’m pretty sure whoever sent this got to it first.”

“And they’re probably the same person who delivered Madison’s car.” Ryan nodded as though it was confirmed. Still, Aster was willing to bet he was right.

“This almost seems impossible.” Tommy spoke in a mix of wonder and awe. “For one person to have so much reach.”

“Who said it’s one person?” Layla looked at him.

“And, if it is Paul, who, by the way, is number one on my list of suspects”—Aster tapped the lip of her water bottle against her chin—“then it wouldn’t be so hard for him to arrange all of this.”

“They don’t call him the Ghost for nothing.” Ryan shrugged.

“Well, assuming this did come from the Ghost, don’t you think

it’s kind of weird that he still relies on paper when it seems the whole world has converted to electronic?” Layla plucked a piece of paper from the top of the pile and frowned.

“I guess it’s less vulnerable this way,” Aster said. “I mean, look how easy it was for Javen to hack into that apartment website.”

“If it’s less vulnerable, then why are we sitting here looking at it?” Tommy asked.

“Because someone obviously wants us to see it.” Layla abandoned one piece of paper for another. “Though I have a feeling they might be doling it out as they see fit. This looks like it’s mostly diary entries.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to do about those? Are you going to post them?” Aster looked at her.

“Haven’t decided. Though someone out there really wants me to. The rhyming threat level is only increasing. But I don’t like being told what to do.” She sifted through the pile and stopped on one in particular.

Aster leaned in to get a better look. Layla’s hand was shaking, and it was pretty easy to guess why. The photo was dark and grainy, but there was no mistaking the subject was Layla and Tommy. They were kissing. On a dance floor. In a club that looked a lot like Jewel. Seemed her suspicions had been valid after all.

“What the hell?” Layla whispered, as Tommy snatched it out of her hands, his cheeks flaming in a way Aster read as embarrassment.

“Who took this?” he asked, unable to keep from staring at it.

“Apparently, Madison did,” Layla said, though her tone seemed uncertain, or maybe she was just stunned. “Someone sent this to Mateo. It’s why we broke up.”

Tommy reeled on her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was edged with emotion, his face a mask of outrage.

Aster sank deeper into the cushions, as Ryan fidgeted uncomfortably beside her.

“Can we not talk about this now?” Layla shook her head, snatched the photo from his grasp, and angrily shoved it into her bag.

“I think the real question is, why would Madison do that?” Aster asked, figuring it needed to be questioned.

Tommy fell silent, as Layla nervously twisted the cap on her bottle of water and said, “Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t. All I know for sure is that someone has it out for her, and apparently they want me to have it out for her too. By giving me all this stuff and making it look like she’s responsible for sending the pic, it’s like they’re trying to alternately threaten me and/or anger me into posting her diary entries. Either way, don’t you think it seems weird that Paul would keep this picture in a file?”

“Maybe that picture didn’t come from the file,” Ryan said. “Maybe whoever planted the box in Tommy’s car tossed it in there to make it look like it did. Then again, it’s not like Mad wasn’t capable of that kind of thing, because the truth is, I could totally see her doing something like that. The girl has a dark side, that’s for sure. Along with a very low tolerance for people who try to mess with her, which you did the moment you chose to write those old blog posts about her. She kept a blacklist of people who dissed her. You were on it.”

Layla’s cheeks reddened in a way that had Aster wishing Ryan hadn’t revealed that. They were on the verge of veering wildly off track, and she couldn’t afford for the whole thing to blow up into a bickering match.

“Okay, so suppose for a moment that the picture didn’t come from the file,” Aster said, determined to keep them focused and on point, “but that it did come from Madison. You had access to her house well before we arrived—did you notice anything missing? Anything incriminating like that?”

Ryan narrowed his gaze on hers. “Am I a suspect again?”

Aster closed her eyes and counted to ten. It was impossible to talk rationally with everyone so on edge. “Honestly, at the moment, everyone’s a suspect.” She forced her gaze on his. “Some more than others. Though, if it makes you feel any better, you’ve fallen to one of the bottommost positions. I guess I’m just wondering if you noticed Madison’s stuff had been disturbed in any way.”

“Of course her stuff was disturbed.” From the tone of his voice, Ryan seemed annoyed, though he was quickly losing some steam. “The cops ran a thorough search.”

“Do you think it’s possible that maybe one of the detectives lifted the picture and is responsible for this?” Layla asked, not giving anyone a chance to reply before she shook her head and dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. “No, never mind. That doesn’t even make sense. If they did lift the pic, they wouldn’t give it to me and try to bribe me to post it. They’d sell it to the tabloids and retire early on the proceeds.”