Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
It was nice to have one person in the room who liked her. “Yeah. I was the gloomy best friend. It was actually a fun part. Anyway, I talked to the guy. When you’re on set, unless you’re some kind of huge star or some assholey method actor, you end up spending a lot of time with the crew. You get to be friends. Well, JK took it too far. He got drunk at one of the crew parties and got super handsy. I called him out, and he got fired. So I became the bitch who ruined his career.”
“Of course.” Charlotte’s eyes rolled. “I’ve heard that accusation a couple of times myself.”
“Oh, baby, you did not. You never ruined a career. You blew heads off.” Taggart winked his wife’s way. “No one complains after that. Have you thought about doing that, Ms. Pearson?”
Oh, they were a fun couple, and she wanted that story. “Every day. Did you do it up close or from a distance?”
Charlotte’s elegant shoulder shrugged. “It all depended on the job. I will tell you it’s far less messy from a distance.”
“Do we know where this JK Harris is? Also, who is the fourth stalker?” West seemed excellent at ignoring his elders, too.
“He disappeared a while back,” she admitted. “And that’s where things get interesting. The police think Harris is the one causing trouble, but I don’t think so. Harris’s letters were all full of threats, and he sent them through the mail. He liked to stand outside red-carpet events shouting about what a whore I was until he was escorted off the grounds. He didn’t send elaborate, horrifying art projects.”
“He could be escalating,” West offered.
“Or he could be someone new, hence the fourth stalker, who might or might not exist.” It was what she was afraid of. Like she needed another person who wanted to take her down a peg, who blamed her for their problems.
“West, if you were running the investigation portion of this case, where would you go from here?” Taggart asked. “You’re not, of course. Think of this as an academic exercise.”
Oh, she knew a teaching hospital when she saw one. Was she getting the newbie? That could be fun.
“I would ask Eve McKay for her opinion,” West replied. “I would request that Eve study the case reports and give me her thoughts on whether this is the same JK Harris or if she thinks we’re looking for another person.”
“Unsub.” See, this part was interesting. Or it would be if it also wasn’t horrifying because she was living through it. There was a reason she preferred fiction to real life. “We’re looking for an unsub. I once got through four rounds of auditions to play an FBI special agent who hunted serial killers. I did a ton of research and even wore a boring suit and everything, but they went with the brunette.”
“I told you to dye your hair,” her stepdad said.
He’d been right about that. Apparently, blondes made better victims than feds, according to the completely dickish casting director who’d offered to let her play a dead body. Naked, of course.
“Excellent. That is exactly what I’m going to do.” Taggart pushed back and stood, straightening up that big muscular body of his. “I’ll leave you and West alone to work out your schedule. As for the investigation, I’ll be the lead on that.”
“I appreciate you taking care of this personally, Mr. Taggart.” Her stepdad stood.
“Jared is a friend of the family,” the big boss replied, shaking his hand. “Why don’t we go to my office and settle up the accounts? You’re not staying in town, right?”
“No. I have to get back to LA. I start my own shoot in a couple of days,” her stepdad said as they started out of the conference room.
The last man standing was the one she was almost certain was West’s brother. Or cousin. Or stunt double. “Can you handle this on your own or should I stay to referee?”
West gave him a steady smile that held only the slightest hint of dismay. “We’ll be fine.”
She was glad one of them was optimistic.
* * * *
She was pretty much every bit as bad as he’d imagined. Ally Pearson was bratty and privileged and didn’t care one bit about anyone but herself. He wasn’t buying the whole “she’s a sensitive soul and needs nature time.” Parents could have rose-colored glasses on when it came to their kids. She was snobby and generally everything he tried to stay away from.
But damn she was pretty. He’d seen pictures of her with all different colors of hair. She seemed to change the color as often as the wind blew, but the warm brown she had now seemed to suit her spectacularly. It caressed her shoulders in waves that framed her face. She’d walked in wearing sunglasses that probably cost more than he made in a week and deceptively plain jeans and a T-shirt. On most other women they would be everyday, ordinary clothes, but somehow her graceful curves transformed them into something deeply sexy. When she’d taken off the sunglasses, he'd been struck by how pretty her eyes were. They almost matched her hair color.