Infamous (Beautiful Idols 3)
The girl lifted her shoulders and quirked her mouth to the side. “I was. But after reading those diary entries, I realized she’s just a big liar. How do you get used to it?” She blinked from under a thick fringe of chestnut-colored bangs.
The question left Trena confused, wondering if the girl was asking how she got used to people lying, or how she got used to being a liar.
Reading Trena’s expression, the girl leaned forward and whispered, “Being famous, I mean. Having everyone watch you all the time. Isn’t it weird?”
Trena leaned against the backrest and stifled a laugh. This coming from the most over-photographed, over-documented generation the world had yet seen. “I ignore it.” She pretended as though she hadn’t been the least bit aware of the whispering, head turning, and scrutiny happening all around her. A few beats later she said, “So, Lucky—you hav
e something for me?”
The girl slouched low in her seat and shot a furtive look all around.
“Relax.” Trena leaned forward and placed a reassuring hand on the girl’s arm. “It’s not like we’re conducting a drug deal.”
The girl let out a short, startling laugh that immediately sent her cheeks flaming. Taking a few controlled breaths to collect herself, she said, “Okay, here’s the thing: You watched the video, right?”
Trena was losing patience. “I think that’s why we’re both here.”
“Right. So, anyway, do you think she did it?”
Trena was taken aback. She had no idea what the girl was getting at. “Do I think who did what?” She spoke the words slowly.
“The girl! In the video!” Lucky leaned closer and lowered her voice so much that Trena strained to hear. “Do you think she did it? Do you think she killed Madison? I mean, she had the earring and all, so . . . it’s possible, right?”
Trena was stunned. She’d thought for sure the girl had come to the same conclusion as she had—that the blond in the video was Madison in disguise. Quickly, she rerouted all the responses she’d planned.
“Thing is, I really don’t want to get dragged into it, see? I mean, if she did do it, if she did kill Madison, well, I wasn’t even supposed to be anywhere near Night for Night. I told my parents I was at the library studying for a history exam. But now, if I get pulled into court or something because of the video . . .” She shook her head and bit down on her lip as though she couldn’t imagine anything worse than her parents discovering she’d lied to them.
Trena paused long enough to carefully frame a reply. What a gift this was turning out to be.
“I can keep your name out of it,” Trena assured her. “I give you my word.”
Lucky stared as though trying to determine if that was good enough for her.
“I see no reason for you to get involved,” Trena continued. “As a journalist, it’s my right to keep my sources anonymous.”
It must’ve worked, because the girl slipped a hand inside her bag and retrieved a small object she pushed across the table toward Trena.
It was round, wrapped in tissue, but from what Trena could tell, it had all the familiar qualities of a hoop earring. She looked at the girl, stunned to realize that despite what she’d written in her text, she wanted nothing in return other than her solemn promise to keep her secret safe from her parents.
“Thank you,” Trena said. “This helps.”
“I erased the account I sent the video from. You can’t trace it back to me. Just so you know.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. You have nothing to worry about. Again, you have my word.”
A second later the girl stood. “Okay, well—good luck,” she said, clearly eager to leave.
Trena knew she should’ve left it at that, but for some reason she said, “That’s it? We’re good here?” She was used to people always working an angle. The fact that this had gone down so easily seemed sort of suspicious.
The girl faced her with a frown. “Nobody knows about this but you. My friend never even noticed the girl in the background with the earring. And I never told her I went back to see if it was still there. So if the cops knock at my door, I’ll know it’s because of you. But you promised you’d keep me out of it, and that’s all I’m looking for. So—yeah, we’re good.”
She shot Trena a tight grin and quickly moved away. Trena was just about to head into Starbucks to get a chai latte for the road, when Detective Larsen approached.
No such thing as a coincidence, she mumbled under her breath. To Larsen, she said, “Walking the Road to Hollywood?”
He shot her a blank look.
She motioned toward the very ground where he stood.