Private #1 Suspect (Private 2)

Later she said that I was like a clam. With a rubber band around my shell. I laughed it off, said that she’d now met my real self when not in crisis. By the time we had that conversation, we were already in love.

Now Justine sat in a leather chair, swiveling gently from side to side. I came around the table and sat down next to her. Her face looked stiff.

She was so angry at me.

“I have a job offer,” she said. “A good one.”

“That didn’t take long.”

“I’ll complete my cases, including the new one if it’s a go. I didn’t give an answer yet, but that’s just negotiation. I’ll probably take the job.”

“I know this is a long shot, Justine, but imagine that I’m actually innocent here. Imagine that I never needed you more than I need you now.”

“Okay, Jack. Now you imagine that I just don’t care anymore.”

CHAPTER 39

JUSTINE WAS AT the wheel of her midnight-blue Jaguar, Scotty in the passenger seat beside her. They turned off Melrose, passed under the arched gates of the Harlequin Pictures lot, and stopped at the guard booth.

Justine said to the guard, “Justine Smith to see Danny Whitman.”

The guard ran his finger down a list on his laptop, did a visual match between the picture on Justine’s driver’s license and her face. He said her name into a phone, then turned back to her and said, “Take a right, then left on Avenue P. Keep going until you see 231 on the corner of Eleventh.” He waved her through.

Scotty said, “I’ve seen everything Danny Whitman has ever made. I saw his first film, Badger. Played the kid with the wild dogs? I knew he was going to take off.”

Justine flashed him a smile, slowed for a speed bump, took a left at the second intersection, and headed down a street lined by soundstages and two- and three-story white stucco buildings once used as studio homes for writers and actors

, now mainly production and administration offices.

Her mind ranged as she drove, thinking about Jack, about Jack with Colleen, about how she was sure he’d lied about what had happened at lunch with Colleen. Justine also thought about the job she’d been offered, which wouldn’t be as good as the one she had now—except for one important detail. She wouldn’t be seeing Jack five days a week.

Scotty was looking at her. She recalled what he’d said. Excited about working with Danny Whitman.

“We don’t have a check yet, Scotty. But if we take the job, bet you ten bucks you’ll be happy when it’s over.”

She lifted the visor, downshifted, and said to Scotty, “He’s just starting this new film. Action-adventure, of course. The question is, will he get to finish it?”

“Shades of Green,” said Scotty. “I read about it. Spies and counterspies in the twenty-first century.”

“Okay, I’m impressed,” Justine said. “You do your homework.”

Justine’s mind flicked over this assignment. She wished she hadn’t told Jack she would do it. It could drag on. And the one thing you could absolutely count on with movie stars, it was going to get messy.

Please, God. Let this one be the exception to the rule. Let this one be easy.

“Sorry?” she said to Scotty. He was speaking again.

“So you missed the meeting. Jack was talking about Colleen Molloy. People seemed to like her.”

“She was adorable,” Justine said. “What number is that?” Scanning the nearly identical white buildings.

“Adorable. Interesting word choice.”

“Genuine. Funny. Unaffected.”

“And you dated Jack too?”

“Boy, you’re quite the background checker,” Justine said. “There it is. On the corner. Now listen, Scotty, I don’t even know if we’re going to get this job, so just watch and listen.”