Debi couldn’t believe Georgie was going to make her say it again.
“Georgie, I can't pay for this. I can't even pay to audit the class. How in the world can I pay hundreds of dollars an hour for this teacher?”
“Darling, calm down,” Georgie whispered back. “I’m paying for it.”
Debi’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? Why would you pay for me to take classes? You don’t even know me.”
Georgie tucked her arm under Debi's and walked her out of the building. A gentle breeze cooled Debi’s burning cheeks. The sky glowed in the purple and pink of a Los Angeles dusk.
“Look, Debi,” Georgie began. “I have a ton of money. I’ve always had money, but it doesn’t mean anything unless I use it. If I don’t use my money to help others and uplift them, then it doesn’t flow. Understand? Money is energy and it has to move. If I want more abundance, I have to give abundance. You're talented and I want to help you. I want to help your energy flow, too.”
“But you've never seen me act,” Debi countered.
“I had a good feeling about you when we first met,” Georgie explained. “Then we met again, and I knew it was synchronicity. So, I asked Marguerite and Nancy about you. They both said you’ve got it.”
“Why didn’t I book those commercials then?” Debi asked. She wasn’t born yesterday, and Georgie sounded too good to be true.
“I like mentoring younger actors. It’s my give back. I know I was born into enormous privilege being my father’s daughter. For years, I flitted around Hollywood, squandering my energy. Then I was exhausted. I had money and connections and privilege, but what good was it? That’s when I learned about how energy works, and I had to decide what my value add would be. I’ve been around talented, devoted young actors my entire life and when I see honest people like you putting in the hard work, I want to help. Is that so horrible of me?” she asked.
“No,” Debi said as she tried to focus her emotion. She really wanted to believe this was for real. Like really, really wanted to believe that such an opportunity could fall into her lap like this.
“Listen,” Georgie said. “You have to do what feels right for you. If you don’t want private lessons, you don’t have to have them. Okay?”
“Okay,” Debi said. She wanted those damn private lessons, though.
“Why don’t you come to a party with me tonight?”
“I'd love to come with you to a party but,” Debi said thinking of the extra shift she’d signed up for that night.
“Hollywood works on connections,” Georgie said. “You have the talent, so you’re way ahead in the game there. What you need is to be seen at the right parties by the right people. I’m sure you know this already since you didn’t get to town yesterday.”
“I do know that,” Debi confessed.
“Think about whether it’s right for you to start working with Desmond. Until then, you come with me tonight and meet some of my friends,” she said.
Debi nodded, her mind buzzing. Connections were everything in Hollywood. Friends hired friends. Georgie seemed to be everyone’s friend and that made Debi feel special. She deserved some good luck in her life, didn’t she?
“What time is the party tonight?” she asked. She needed to call Junior to fill her shift tonight. She’d never switched shifts before with anyone and hoped that he’d forgive her on the short notice.
“Send me the address and I'll be there,” Debi said.
“I'll come pick you up. Text me your address. Wear something sparkly,” Georgie said and with a little wave, she got into the white BMW parked in a handicap spot.
“You need a ride?” she asked.
Debi shook her head no and watched Georgie drive off. She wasn't sure exactly what had just happened. Whatever it was, she decided to embrace it. Georgie was right. She needed flow in her life. If she kept doing what she was doing, she would only continue getting what she’d gotten. Things didn’t change for her until she left home. Maybe it was finally time for that next step.
Debi let out her breath. Georgie wanted to take her by the hand and lead her into something bigger. Like straight into an honest-to-goodness Hollywood party. Debi walked to her car as she sorted through her wardrobe in her mind for something sparkly.
15
Day 2
Detective Harri Harper gripped the steering wheel tightly as she pulled away from the third casting office on their list. Detective Tom Bards sat in the passenger seat reading through the list of actors they’d received at Nancy Gray’s office. She’d driven them the entire day and was glad for that. She could pay attention to the road and not to her thoughts.
They’d struck out at the first three casting offices so far. Marguerite Wilson, Nancy Grace, and Rose Allen had no insight or information to give the detectives about Sophie Lambert.
Harri wasn't sure exactly what she expected them to tell her, but she hadn’t thought they’d get a big fat zero. Harri hoped someone, one of the coordinators or assistants, might have seen Sophie talking to someone. Any information the detectives could use to narrow down the immense number of names they’d received. Unfortunately, all they received were even more people who needed to be interviewed. Harri and Tom would need to cold call close to two hundred women. They were going to need help with that.
“Explain to me again how this whole casting process works?” Tom asked. “How did three casting directors see so many girls in those couple days?”
Harri had spoken to one of the casting directors; assistants to get an overview. The assistant’s explanation helped her get a handle on the world Sophie Lambert was navigating before she disappeared.
“Well, this is how that woman explained it to me,” Harri began, hoping she was getting it right. “The marketing team at a company hires an ad agency to create a campaign. These ad agencies have a team of consultants they hire consistently to make the commercials and that includes directors, who hire the writers and crew, and then the casting directors. They decide the type they’re looking for and the casting directors have these rosters for each look.”
“Look?” Tom asked.
“Like girl-next-door, sexy siren, suburban mom, edgy millennial…”
“I get it.” Tom nodded. “What’s my look?”
Harri glanced at him. “Disgruntled cop?”
“No,” Tom shot back. “I’m handsome, driven detective.”
“Cool,” Harri smiled. “I stand corrected. So, from what the assistant told me, this way of working is different than the way films and TV shows work.”
“Different how?”
“To book a job, or getting according to the lingo, requires a look and not necessarily any acting talent.”
“So, these girls should all have the same look as Sophie Lambert?”
“Affirmative.”
“Did this assistant say what Sophie Lambert’s look was?”
“Hot girl,” Harri said with a grimace.
Tom didn’t have a response to that. He just looked pointedly at Harri and then shook his head.
Harri Harper pulled up to an office building in North Hollywood. The neighborhood was still in a process of gentrification and while some people wanted to say it was coming up as a place for artists and creatives, Harri recognized it for what it was – an area struggling to shed its violent and impoverished past.
“Is it just me, or does this place look a bit less money?” Tom remarked.
“Hopefully, these people interacted more with Sophie than the other casting directors,” Harri said.
“Here’s hoping,” Tom said.
“The other places were more established, running like machines. A small startup like this would need to work differently, stay nimble to be competitive.”
“I hope you’re right,” Tom said. “We gotta find a way to trim this list.”
Harri stepped out of the car, bag in hand. Tom checked his phone as he got out and followed Harri into the building.
“It’s on the ground floor
,” he said and pointed to the first door to the left.
They walked across the lobby and into the offices of Helena McCarthy Casting. They found themselves in a tiny reception area with two plastic chairs. A receptionist sat in front of a computer to the left of an interior door.
This agency was decidedly more down-rent than the Marguerite Wilson or Nancy Gray Agency. Harri approached the receptionist and flashed her badge.
“We have an appointment with Helena McCarthy,” she said. “I'm Detective Harri Harper and this is Detective Tom Bards.”
The woman nodded and before she could do anything else, a slim woman with a blonde ponytail came out of the back office. She shook both Harri's and Tom's hands with a smile.
“It's a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “I’m Helena McCarthy. Please come in.”
She led them to another tiny office, every surface piled high with head shots.
“I printed out the names of the actresses I saw that week like you requested,” Helena said. She sat down behind her desk and Harri perched on another plastic chair as Tom leaned against the door.
“How else can I help you?” she asked.
“We need to track anyone Sophie Lambert crossed paths with in the days preceding her disappearance,” Harri said. “Did you hear of any Hollywood parties that Friday night?”
Helena sighed and then smiled ruefully. “There are parties every night all over town. I didn’t hear of anything, but then I wouldn’t. I’m out of that loop. I don’t go out because I no longer have to.” She smiled again and then reached for a folder on her desk. “I have the list of actors who auditioned on the same day Sophie did. The job was an Internet-only commercial for an insurance company and Sophie, from what I remember, did a really good job.”
Helena handed them glossy printouts of dozens of women who looked almost exactly like Sophie Lambert. Dark hair, bangs, and light eyes. It was a look that styled a vintage pinup look.
“These women all look alike,” Harri remarked.
“That's kind of how the commercial game works,” Helena said. “The ad agency gives us the type they're looking for and we find it for them. This brief says that they were looking for a sultry sexpot with dark hair and light eyes. So that's who we called in,” she said.
Harri handed the glossy printout to Tom who looked through the doppelgänger photos and shook his head.
“It’s incredible there’d be close to thirty women who looked exactly like her,” he said, waving the photo around.
“It’s the small-town to Hollywood chain,” Helena explained. “They were all the prettiest girl in their hometown. The prom queen. Everyone tells them they’re beautiful enough to be on screen, so they all come here and find out there’s literally dozens of others in town who look exactly like them.”
Helena was a striking woman herself and Harri wondered if she’d been an actor. What small town had she escaped from?
“You mind my asking how long you've been operating?” Harri asked.
“Not at all,” Helena said. “I used to be in the game. I had years where I made six figures as a commercial actor, but I knew it was just a matter of time before I aged out. An opportunity presented itself for some casting work and I took it. I didn’t realize at first how good I would be at it, or how much I would enjoy it. I worked on my credits until I opened my own agency seven years ago. We’ve only been in this location three years. I was operating out of the back of my house before then.
“Can you tell us more about Sophie at the audition?” Harri asked.
“I looked over my notes from the day.” Helena pointed to the folder she’d given Harri. “She’d nailed the audition, but we didn’t go with her due to her height. The male actor was too tall, and the producers wanted a better match for him. Sophie was my second choice, as you’ll see in the notes. If anything fell out with him, I would have resubmitted her.”
“Did Sophie know that was why she didn’t get the part?” Harri asked.
“Oh, no,” Helena said. “We didn’t notify. It’s in the notes.”
“That’s a tough break. Not getting the job because of your height,” Tom said.
“It is, but you have to be careful,” Helena said. “If you tell them, some people understand it’s just not meant to be, but others…don’t do as well with rejection. Helena bit her lip as if she wanted to say something else.
“What are you not telling us, Helena?” Harri asked.
“I'm not really sure how to say this,” she hesitated.
“You can’t shock us,” Tom said.
“Okay, well,” Helena smoothed her already smooth ponytail. “There have always been rumors about young girls and powerful men around town. This is more than random to me, two incidents. It’s just you asked about parties and a young girl is dead…”
Harri leaned in closer. She knew how to listen when a witness spoke, to give them space to continue their story. People hated a gap in conversation and tried to fill it and Harri really wanted this woman to talk.
“I don't know the whole story and so I don't want to give it to you secondhand,” Helena continued nervously. “I mean it’s a story as old as Hollywood, but lately these rumors just sound different.”
“Different how?” Harri asked.
After a pause, Helena closed her eyes and continued. “Familiar. There’s something about these latest rumors that feel similar to rumors I was hearing right before something terrible happened to someone I used to know.”
“What terrible thing happened, Helena?” Tom asked softly.
“A woman I used to know was assaulted at a party by someone high-up the Hollywood food chain. Someone big. I was at the tail end of my acting career and would see her, for coffee and around you know. She disappeared for a while and then the few times I saw her after she wasn’t the same person.”
“Did she go to the police?”
“No.” Helena shook her head, speaking only to Harri. “She’d already been through too much. You know how it is. But she’ll talk to you, I think.”
“What’s her name?” Harri asked.
“Roxanne. Roxanne Miles. I don't have her address, but I have her number.” Harri wrote down in her notebook the information Helena showed her from her own phone.
“Did she get in trouble with drugs?” Tom asked.
“I don’t know the details,” Helena said. “She’s really the best person to talk to about that. I honestly feel like I’m betraying her even mentioning her name because she was absolutely terrified when I spoke to her last. I just, I don't know…” Helena drifted off and stared out her window to the parking lot.
Harri couldn’t read the woman. “Thank you for having the courage to give us this information,” Harri said.
Helena nodded. “You know, acting is hard enough. It takes a lot of emotional work. But it’s the business that’s so horrible on a woman. We’re judged on our looks constantly and it gets into our psyche, you know? But that’s the job. The extra stuff that happens to women in this town should be illegal. I know the #metoo movement is bringing these stories to light. But there are just so many stories.”
Harri gave Tom a sideways glance. He nodded slightly in return. The interview was over. They wouldn’t get any more out of Helena. She’d given them a lead. A name. They said their goodbyes and left the office.
“ You wanna take Roxanne?” Tom asked when they got back into the car.
“You don't want to go together?” Harri asked.
Tom kept his eyes on the agency door, deep in thought.
“She’ll have an easier time telling her story if I’m not there,” he said.
“I think you’re right,” Harri said. “You’ll start on the list of actresses?”
“I'll start the calls tomorrow,” Tom said. “I have a hunch I’ll find more drugged and assaulted actresses in our files. This seems like a smooth operation. If they’ve been operating for a while there are more victims out there.”
“Wouldn’t we have heard abou
t them?” Harri asked as she got back onto the freeway and headed back to the PAB.
“Well, if the victims even came forward. If their claims were believed. If the investigations weren’t swept under the rug, then yeah, we might have heard something about it, but I want to dig up partial cases like this. How much information is sitting in dead files of cases that went nowhere?”
They didn't talk much as she drove back downtown. She was thankful for the silence.
Harri couldn’t shake her sadness at hearing of how Sophie lost a job because she was too short. If she wasn’t a good match for the actor, if she didn’t meet the requirements of the job, why did they make her audition? Did she come out of the audition thinking she hadn’t done a good enough job? That she wasn’t attractive enough?
The casting directors, the directors, and the producers held so much power over these girls. Power they could wield at any moment to get what they wanted. No one had even mentioned if Sophie was talented or not. She was just too short. Harri shivered involuntarily.
“You all right?” Tom asked.
“Feel like I’m gonna have nightmares after today,” Harri said.
“Why?”
“The brutality inflicted on these female psyches,” Harri said. “They come here with a big dream and work so hard and then it’s like, you’re too short. Next.”
Tom smiled. “Okay, Harri. You ever been to basketball tryouts?”
Harri shot him a look.
“They want to act, though. The girls choose this profession,” Tom reminded her.
“Did Sophie, though?” Harri argued. “Elle Lambert had her in pageants since she was in diapers. She was trying to get her an agent since she was twelve. Was it Sophie’s dream, or Elle’s? I mean what does a twelve-year-old girl know? And why wouldn’t a mother protect her daughter from this?”
“If the girls make it, they have fame and fortune.”
“How many make it, though? And if they do, what kind of damage are they carrying around?”
“Probably not as much as a kid cut from the team,” Tom admitted.
“These girls are just so vulnerable. They have the world at their feet, and they don’t even know it. Instead they come here and get preyed upon. I hate this world sometimes.”
The Broken Trail: A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller (Harriet Harper Thriller Book 3) Page 9