My gaze whipped wildly from side to side as if I expected the bogeyman to jump out of my neighbor’s agapanthus bushes. I kicked the box of roadkill aside, fingers fumbling as I tried to fit my keys in the lock. I was shaking so badly it took me two tries before I realized I was trying to unlock my front door with my Jeep keys. Finally I got the right one in, but by this time I was in serious panic mode.
I was a fashion designer. I drew little bows and sparklies on toddler shoes. Who would want me dead? How did they know where I lived? Had he been following me? What did he mean, when he had the chance? Was he watching me right now, waiting for another one? I pictured that poor little birdie with tire treads across its midsection and felt faint.
I quickly shut and locked the door behind me, making sure my metal security chain was fastened. Only, in the face of a crazed killer with big-ass tires, the chain looked awfully small and pathetic. I grabbed a chair and stuffed it under the doorknob for good measure. Then I found my hair dryer and, wielding it like a club, searched the rest of my apartment for any sign of bad guys. Luckily, the only thing I found lurking in the shadows were some dust bunnies that spoke of my less-than-stellar skills as a housekeeper.
Once I was sure I was alone, I grabbed my cordless phone. My hands were still shaking as I dialed Ramirez’s number. Three rings into it I was starting to work into a panic again that maybe he wasn’t there, maybe the bad guy would come back, maim me, kill me, and stuff me in a cardboard box, all because Ramirez was still too pissed off at me to pick up my call.
“Ramirez here.”
I did an audible sigh of relief. “Oh thank God. I got a bird. A pigeon, I think. Or maybe a sparrow. I’m not sure. But it had tire tracks! Just like the squirrel.”
I think I heard him sigh on the other end. “Okay, what’s going on this time, Maddie?”
The way he said this time was like a mother showing up for the bazillionth time at the principal’s office. Was I that predictable?
I took a deep breath and tried to calm down, lest I became a caricature of myself.
“I got a death threat at my apartment.”
This got his attention. “From who? Is he there now? Are you okay?”
“Yes. No. I mean, I’m fine.” Sort of.
“What happened?”
As I told him about the roadkill presents I’d been getting, and the last one with its menacing message, I could feel Ramirez tensing on the other end. “Look, I’m going to send a patrol car over to watch your place tonight.”
Which should have made me feel better. Only I realized as he said it that I’d been kind of hoping he would come over. The fact that he was sending a patrol car instead spoke volumes to the fact we were so not to the “ups” yet.
“A patrol car?”
He must have heard the disappointment in my voice. “Look, Maddie, I’ve got the captain and the DA breathing down my neck twenty-four/seven. I can’t deal with this right now, too.”
I felt a lump form in my throat. He thought I was something that had to be dealt with. Ouch.
“Right. Fine. I understand.”
“The patrolman will keep an eye on you.”
“I said it was fine.”
Ramirez sighed deeply into the phone. “You’re not doing that girlie thing where you say it’s fine but really you’re pissed off, are you?”
“No!” Yes!
He paused again. “Okay, I’ll be right over.”
“You know what? Don’t bother. I’m fine by myself.”
Another deep sigh. “Jesus, Maddie, don’t do this to me right now.”
“To you? I’m sorry, I thought I was the one who just got a death threat via bird guts!”
“So let me come over.”
“I said I’m fine! What, you think I can’t take care of myself? You think I need you? I don’t need you. I’m fine!” Never mind that I was wielding a hair dryer as a weapon. There was no way I was going to let Ramirez think I wanted him here when he so obviously didn’t want to be here.
I slammed the phone down in its cradle. Then picked it up and slammed it down a couple more times for good measure.
I stared at the kitchen chair barring my door. The truth was, I was so not fine. I was still shaking (though part of that could be from anger at this point), and the thought of spending the night alone barred up in my apartment, wondering if some maniac was lurking just outside the window with more animal carcasses, left my insides whimpering like a five-year-old.
I grabbed my phone again and called Dana at the Actor’s Duplex. Unfortunately, I was informed by Daisy Duke that she’d just watched three episodes of Magnolia Lane and, thanks to Chad’s shirtless scenes, was headed off to the nearest SA meeting. I left a message for Dana to come over once her inner beast had been tamed.
I hung up, sudden silence permeating my tiny studio. I flipped on the TV to distract myself, watching images of the Sunset Studios fill the Entertainment Tonight screen. The hot topic of the day was that the police now suspected that someone on the studio lot was the killer. Mary Hart even speculated that it could be another member of the cast. I watched as images of Blake, Ricky, and Margo flitted across the screen. Last but not least was Deveroux Strong. They’d captured an image of Deveroux coming out of a trendy boutique in Hollywood wearing tight leather pants and a formfitting turtleneck. He was carrying a large pink shopping bag and standing just a little too close to his “personal bodyguard.” Felix was right: it was no national secret that this guy was gay.
The next image to grace the screen was Mia’s face in a montage of shots: outside her Bel Air home, in Versace at the Emmys, on vacation in the Bahamas. I wondered again if she’d really been the target. Veronika’s secret pregnancy put a whole new twist on things. Maybe the killer had taken advantage of the press surrounding Mia’s letters as an easy scapegoat. Despite what the police thought, it would have been simple for anyone to walk into wardrobe and help themselves to a pair of panty hose. Hell, Margo was in and out of there with costume jewelry at least fifteen times a day.
The real question was, who was the father of Veronika’s baby? I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Ricky earlier. He’d admitted to going out with her. Maybe he was the father? Maybe the pretty-but-duller-than-a-pair-of-Keds act he had going on was just that-an act. I made a mental note to ask Ricky tomorrow just how serious things had been between him and Veronika.
I was still going down my list of available baby-daddies on the Magnolia Lane set when a knock sounded at my door.
I let out a little squeak and picked up my discarded hair dryer in a white-knuckled grip. “Who is it?” I called, half expecting the person on the other side to answer, “The Big Bad Wolf. Open up so I can eat you.”
“It’s me, Maddie, ” Dana called. “I got your message to come over.”
I quickly scooted the guard chair out of the way and undid the chain, letting Dana in. “Ohmigod, I’m so happy to see you. You will not believe the night I’ve had.”
“I might, ” she said, then gestured behind her. “What’s with the cop car?”
I peeked around her to see a patrol car parked across the street. Never in my life had I been so glad a man didn’t listen to me.
“Long story. Come on in and I’ll tell you.”
While we watched the E! special Hollywood report on Veronika’s death, I filled Dana in on my conversation with Ricky, my run-in with Felix, my roadkill stalker, and last but not least, my conversation with Ramirez.
“I think he hates me.”
Dana shook her head. “Your boyfriend does not hate you.”
“I’m not even sure he’s my boyfriend. I’m not even sure he can say the word boyfriend.”
“He’s just under a lot of stress.”
Right. Because of me.
I gulped down a big lump of guilt.
“So, who do you think is threatening you?” Dana asked. “Do you think it has anything to do with Veronika’s death?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. I can’t see how.”
“Well, have you pissed anybody off lately?”
I picked up the remote and started flipping through channels. “Besides Ramirez?”
She gave me a look.
“No, I haven’t. I mean, unless you count how grouchy Tot Trots was when I turned in the Dora the Explorer light-up sandals two weeks late.”
Dana got up and crossed the room to the kitchen, rummaging in my cupboards. “Well, one thing’s for sure.”
“What’s that?”
“Ricky is on the top of our list of suspects.” She paused. “Too bad. He’s so totally hot. You know, I think he looked at me today. I mean, he was talking to Nurse Nan, but I think he kinda looked past her at me for a second.”
“That’s right-what happened on the set while I was gone? Who’s the father of Ashley’s baby?” I asked, leaning forward.
“Argh!” Dana threw her hands up. “You would not believe it. We never got the scene finished. Mia refused to come out of her trailer until Margo apologized. And Margo refused to apologize until Mia apologized for calling her an old cow. And then Steinman got so mad he said they both owed him an apology. Then you showed up, and we all went home. Maybe tomorrow.” She paused, holding up a box of Cap’n Crunch. “Maddie, do you have any idea how bad this stuff is for you? It’s like eating pure sugar. Please tell me you don’t eat this stuff for breakfast.”
I ignored her, surfing through the cable channels. I passed through Animal Planet (where a guy was poking a “beauty of a snake” with a stick), Lifetime (where Valerie Bertinelli’s husband was leading a double life with a secret second wife), and VH1 (airing a mud-wrestling match between two overweight has-been celebs). I paused when I hit Spike. I usually stopped on this channel only to watch those hot guys on the CSI reruns. But this time, my clicker went still for a whole new reason.
“Lonely tonight? Need a little company? My girls are always ready to play.”
“Oh brother.”
“What?” Dana popped her head out of the kitchen.
I gestured to the TV where “Sexy Jasmine, ” wearing a black lace teddy, was strutting seductively across the screen.
“Hey, isn’t that-”
“Yep.”
“I thought I saw her on a billboard down on Pico. Wow, she’s on TV now, too?”
“Come visit my Web site. We’re open twenty-four hours a day, and we’re always having fun.” Her Web address flashed across the screen as she pouted and said, “You know you want to watch.”
“Do guys really go for this stuff?” I asked.
Dana shrugged. “There’s this guy at SA, Gary, who’s totally addicted to Internet porn. He loves those live Web cams. Says the girls do anything he asks them to.”
“Creepy.”
“Want to know what’s even creepier?”
“What?”
“How much sugar is in these crackers. Maddie, you really should take better care of yourself.”
I was standing on the edge of a cliff, a sheer drop off the side, with water rushing beneath me. And the water was rising. I had to get across. I was starting to freak. Then I spotted him on the other side of the cliff-it was Ramirez. He was silhouetted against the sky like some cowboy hero. I waved, trying to get his attention, but he didn’t move-just stood there. I called out his name, screaming at the top of my lungs as the water rose higher and higher. My feet were soaked now, the water covering my ankles. But still, Ramirez didn’t move to help me.
Then out of nowhere this giant squirrel rose up from the water. He had huge teeth and sharp claws and a big tire tread across his middle. In the distance I could hear the roar of an engine.
“You’re next, ” the squirrel told me, then pointed over my shoulder. I turned around just in time to see a huge monster truck heading straight for me.
I screamed, calling out Ramirez’s name again, and started running. But somehow my legs just wouldn’t move. It was like they were stuck in molasses. The truck was getting closer and closer, the roar of the engine echoing through my head.
I sat up in bed, sweat pouring down my back. My eyes flew around my apartment as if I were expecting a giant rodent to appear out of nowhere.
No squirrels. No monster trucks.
Just the sound of my phone ringing.
“Make it stop, ” Dana mumbled from the futon beside me, a little puddle of drool forming at the side of her mouth.
I fumbled for the receiver, finally finding it beneath a crumpled Macy’s bag, and croaked out, “Hello?”
“Maddie? Um, hi, it’s Dusty.”
“Dusty?”
“Yeah, sorry to call so early.”
I rolled over and looked at the clock. 6:15. No wonder my voice sounded like I’d swallowed Kermit the Frog. “No, it’s fine. What’s going on?”
“I, uh…” She paused, stammering. “I-I’m not going to be able to make it in again today.”
“Why?” I sat up in bed. “What’s going on? Dusty, are you okay?”
“Uh-huh. Yeah. Fine. Look, I just wanted to let you know. So, if Steinman’s looking for me, just tell him…uh, just tell him I’m taking another personal day.”
“Okay. But, Dusty…”
But I realized she’d already hung up.
“Who was that?” Dana asked, rolling over.
“Dusty. She’s not coming in again today.” I stared at the receiver. Dusty had sounded odd. Nervous. I wondered what was going on. Had finding Veronika really hit her that hard?
“Holy crap, is that the time?” Dana rolled over, pointing to my alarm clock.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I’ve got a seven-o’clock call time today.”
I did a stretch and yawn, still trying to shake from my head the strange dream and the odd note in Dusty’s voice. “You hit the shower. I’ll make the coffee.”
After dressing in a pair of jeans, cork-heeled wedges, and a pink sleeveless blouse, I threw my hair into a quick French twist and Dana and I were on the 101, heading toward Hollywood.
The traffic gods were with us, and it took only twenty minutes before we were pulling into the garage behind the Sunset Studios. As with yesterday, there was a string of PAs, extras, and assistants lined up at the security checkpoint.
Dana and I took our place behind an extra lugging a suitcase and wardrobe bag. Two beats later an out-of-breath Kylie came jogging up behind us.
“Oh, wowzers, can you believe this line?” she asked, panting.
What was hard to believe was that anyone over the age of twelve used the word wowzers. Though, looking at Kylie, I found it kind of hard to believe she was over the age of twelve. She was like Britney Spears (pre K-Fed), Jessica Simpson (post-Newlyweds) and Nicole Richie (pre-eating disorder) all rolled into one. Perky little ski-jump nose; fresh pink cheeks; round, sort of vacant blue eyes; and blonde hair cut in a flirty layered look. This morning her locks were pulled back in a messy-chic ponytail, and she wore Uggs with pink sweats that read JUICY on the butt.
“It’s, like, so unfair we have to go through this, ” she said, pulling a compact out and dabbing concealer over an invisible blemish. “I mean, Veronika was killed with panty hose, not a gun. What’s with the freaking metal detector, ya know?”
I had to admit she had a point.
One that seemed more and more valid as we inched forward in line until I spied my nemesis-the plastic security doorway.
“God, I hate this thing, ” I muttered under my breath.
“It’s no big deal, ” Dana said, slipping her Fendi off her shoulder and onto the belt. “Oh, crap, I forgot my cell in your Jeep. I’ll be right back. Grab my bag on the other end for me, ’kay, Mads?”
“Fine, leave me alone with this thing.”
Dana waved me off, jogging back to the parking lot.
Considering that there were about fifteen guys lined up behind Kylie, I figured all I could do was plow ahead.
I gave Bug-eyed Billy my name, then set my Spade down on the belt beside Dana’s fake Fendi. Then I carefully took off my shoes, my watch, my hoop earrings, my toe ring, and my necklace. And today, despite the noticeably flattened appearance of my chest, I was sans underwire. I would make it through this time.
Queen Latifah was on duty again. She waved me through the plastic doorway with her wand. “Next!”
I took a deep breath, bit my lip, and stepped one foot over the frame. Nothing.
Hallelujah! I felt like hugging Latifah, I was so happy. Forget graduating college-this was a major life accomplishment!
“Uh, ma’am, ” Bug-eyed Billy spoke up from behind his monitor. I turned. He was holding Dana’s fake Fendi. “Is this your bag?”
Uh-oh.
“Uh, well, it’s my friend’s bag, ” I said, glancing toward the parking lot.
“I’m going to have to inspect the contents for non-approved electronic devices.”
“Uh, okay.” I stepped over to the monitor and watched as Bug-eyed Billy proceeded to paw through Dana’s Fendi, pulling one item after another out onto the now-stagnant conveyer belt. Lipstick, credit cards, checkbook, pen. I winced as he pulled out two condoms, and saw a couple of PAs in line lean forward.
But then Bug-eyed Billy really hit the jackpot.
He pulled out a slim pink battery-powered device with a soft, rounded tip.
I felt myself grow hot as my jaw dropped open. Dana’s pocket rocket!
“Ohmigod.” Kylie giggled behind me.
Bug-eyed Billy inspected it as if he’d never seen one before, holding it up to his thick glasses. Of course, the PAs were a little quicker to catch on, openly laughing, and I think I heard someone call out, “Hot stuff, ” from the back of the line. Good God, they thought it was mine!
If I hadn’t just gotten my nails done, I would have seriously considered clawing at the asphalt to dig a hole I could crawl into.
“That’s not mine!” I protested hotly.
Bug-eyed Billy raised an eyebrow at me. “What is it?” he asked.
I heard a snort of laughter from one of the PAs. “Yeah, honey, tell him what it is.”
I clenched my fists into balls. I was so going to get Dana for this.
I leaned in close, trying to be discreet. I know: lost cause at this point. “It’s a personal massager, ” I whispered.
Billy tilted his head to the side, still inspecting Dana’s little friend. “Like for your neck?”
More snorting from the peanut gallery.
“Um, yeah. Like for your neck…or something.”
Billy contemplated it for a moment, no doubt trying to figure out just how that might work, but finally he shrugged and, to my immense relief, dropped it back into the fake Fendi. “All right.” He nodded. “You’re cleared.”
I grabbed the bag, shoved my shoes back on my feet, and quickly gathered up the rest of my belongings just as Dana made an appearance at the back of the line. She cheerily waved her cell phone and motioned that she’d meet me inside.
Some days I think having friends is overrated.
“Speed. And…rolling!”
“Okay, Nurse Nan, we’re ready. Who’s the father?”
“I’m sorry to tell you that the results aren’t what we were hoping for.”
“What?”
“What do you mean, not what we’d hoped for?”
“I mean it seems that neither Chad nor your husband is the father of your baby, Ashley.”
I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand as I watched from the edge of the soundstage. Neither one? Wow, that was a bombshell. I thought back to last season’s episodes. Who else could it be? I mean, there’d been that one guy who used to be on Sex and the City, but they wrote him out when he poisoned the next-door neighbor to cover up his gambling addiction that led to his mortgaging his sister’s house and forcing her to work as a high-class call girl.
“There’s someone else, Ashley?”
“No, Chad, I swear it. There’s just been you. And my husband.”
“Then explain these results.”
“I…I…I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, Chad!”
“I’m not sure I can, Ashley.”
“And…cut! Brilliant-take five, everybody.” Steinman beamed from ear to ear behind his monitor. Grips slapped one another on the butt, and even Margo and Ricky did a high five. The only one who didn’t seem pleased was Mia, still shooting daggers across the soundstage at Margo.
Dana skipped out from her perch behind the reception desk and mini-jogged over to me. “Oh, wow, did you catch that?”
I nodded. “No freaking way the baby is someone else’s!”
“My money’s on the electrician across the street.”
“But he’s been dating Tina Rey ever since she saved him from that drunk driver in season two.”
“Yeah, but Tina Rey’s been seeing that undercover detective on the sly.”
“Ooooh. Right. I forgot about that.” God, I loved this show!
“Hey, ” Dana said, elbowing me in the ribs. “Ricky’s alone. Now’s our chance to grill him.”
“Grill him? What is he, a ribeye?” But before I could protest, Dana grabbed my arm and was dragging me across the stage to where Ricky was trying to extract himself from his clip-on mic. She stopped just short of him and did a less-than-subtle throat clearing, accompanied by another shot to my ribs.
“Ow! Okay, geez, ” I mumbled. “Uh, Ricky?”
Ricky looked up. “Oh, hey. Maddie, right?”
“Right.”
“Ah-heh-hem!” Dana cleared her throat again.
“And this is my friend Dana.”
Dana stuck out her hand, doing her best flirty blonde. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Hey.” Ricky shook it, and I swear I saw Dana melt on contact, giggling like a sixth-grader.
“Uh, anyway, I was wondering if I could ask you something.” I said.
“Sure.” Ricky pulled his microphone through his sleeve. “Shoot.”
“You mentioned yesterday that you and Veronika had dated. When was that?”
Ricky pursed his lips. “Um, I’d say about three months ago. Why?”
Alarm bells louder than one of Mrs. Rosenblatt’s muumuus clanged in my head. Three months was exactly how far along Veronika had been. I tried to keep my voice calm even as I asked, “Why was it you two broke up again?”
Ricky bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes doing a slow survey of the soundstage behind me. “We, uh, we just didn’t hit it off.”
“Oh, I totally know how that goes. Compatibility is so important, ” Dana gushed. She laid a hand on Ricky’s arm and batted her eyelashes.
“And Veronika felt the same way?” I asked.
Ricky shrugged again. “I guess. I dunno.”
“You never talked to her about it?”
“Uh, well, um, not really.” Ricky fidgeted with the microphone in his hand, looking about as uncomfortable as when I wore those cheap leatherette pumps from Bargain Barn last summer during that heat wave. Obviously I wasn’t getting the whole story.
“Ricky?” I prodded.
He glanced nervously from side to side. Then sighed. “Okay, fine.” He paused, leaning in closer. “But this stays just between us, okay?”
“Absolutely, ” Dana promised, punctuated by a big, toothy smile.
I held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“Look, we went out a few times, and then this one time I took her to the movies and dropped her back off at home. Her neighbor was outside watering her lawn. She saw me and recognized me from the show. I mean, she was nice enough, so I signed a couple of autographs for her.”
“Go on, ” I prodded, wondering where all this was going.
“Well, then this lady asks me what I’m doing there, and I told her I was taking Veronika home. Then she kind of got quiet. So, I figured something was up.”
“Such as?”
“Well, she tells me that she’d seen some other guy go home with Veronika the night before. And he didn’t leave until morning. Well, I mean, come on. I’m just not into that. I mean, I’m a one-woman kind of guy.”
I think I heard Dana sigh beside me.
“So, I broke it off.”
“Any idea who this other guy was?”
Ricky shook his head. “Nope. I didn’t ask. Honestly, I kinda didn’t want to know, you know?”
I nodded, disappointed.
“Anyway, please don’t tell anyone, ’kay? I mean, my publicist has worked really hard to make me look like this bad-boy womanizer. If word got out that I’m into monogamy, my image would be toast.”
“I think that’s so sweet, ” Dana said, her eyes glazing over as she stared up at him.
“Remember the chip, ” I mumbled to her.
“Chip, schmip, ” she whispered back.
“Hey, you don’t happen to have Veronika’s address, do you?” I asked Ricky.
“Sure.” He pulled a pen from his pocket and wrote it on the palm of my hand.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, no sweat, ” he said. Then he flashed us both one of his trademark hunky-gardener smiles.
This time I was sure I heard Dana sigh. Though I had to admit, as he walked away the rear view was hot enough to make me sigh a little, too.
“I think I’m in love, ” Dana said, tilting her head to the side for a better angle.
“So, do we believe him?” I asked.
Dana rounded on me. “Of course we believe him! Did you see those tight glutes?”
I rolled my eyes. “All right, what do you say we go pay Veronika’s neighbor a visit?”
Thanks to the shifty-eyed AD, Dana had to wait until lunch to get away. But as soon as Steinman yelled, “Cut, ” we bolted for the parking lot and pointed my Jeep in the direction of the address Ricky had given us: 1342 Coronado Court.
I made a right on Melrose, then a left onto Highland before getting caught at a red light between Santa Monica and Lexington.
As we idled, Dana leaned down to flip on the radio.
Which, as it turned out, was a good thing. Because had she been sitting up in her seat, her head might not have survived the impact as a car slammed into the driver’s side of the Jeep.
“Unh!” I felt my neck jerk to the right like a rag doll’s. Instinctively, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. I looked up to find a white Range Rover crunched up against the side of my car. I blinked hard, trying to get my bearings as adrenaline surged through me.
“Ohmigod, someone just hit us!” Dana yelled, stating the obvious.
What wasn’t obvious, however, was why the Rover was backing up.
Then surging in for another attack.