"Wait!" called someone behind me. I jabbed the elevator's up button when I saw the secretary dashing after me. "I know who you are," she said as she reached me.
"Okay?"
She held up the same newspaper I spotted in Marlene's office. "I recognized you from the photo just now. You're a journalist. You're not a client."
"Nope, not me!" I lied, jabbing the button again. Why couldn't the car move faster?
"I heard what you said about April and the missing girls. There is one, you know."
The elevator doors opened and I hesitated. "There's another one?"
Chapter Six
The secretary thrust a headshot into my hand. "Bonita Rodriguez. She went missing six months ago."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. She didn't have any family so I know she had no one to go home to. She just disappeared. I reported her missing when she didn't show up for a job and I couldn't get hold of her, but I don't think anyone took me seriously. Bonnie had just split up with her boyfriend and he took off on a road trip so the police thought she went after him. She wouldn't do that."
"How sure are you?" I asked. Next to me the elevator doors slid shut and the whirring mechanism started, telling me the car was leaving the floor.
"I was very sure at the time, but the months passed and she didn't come back and I thought maybe I got it wrong? Then I saw Dane a month ago. He was back in town briefly and I ran into him at the beach and he said he hadn't seen Bonnie in months, not since he left town. So I checked with the police and no one even looked into her case. Then I heard about what happened with April and got worried…"
I looked at the photo of the smiling headshot of the pretty brunette and my stomach lurched. She looked so much like the other two. Was she connected to April and Sammy?
"Do you know if they were friends?" I asked.
"They weren't. April joined the agency after Bonnie disappeared. It's weird, isn't it? Two missing girls?"
"It's definitely interesting."
"I added Bonnie's last address on the back of her photo and my card too, in case you needed to ask anything else. I shouldn't really, but Bonnie was my friend and I liked April. I know what happened to April from the LA Chronicle. It's just awful and now I'm afraid something really bad must have happened to Bonnie too. The police came by about April but they don't seem to know anything. Can you find out if something happened to Bonnie too?"
"I can try. I can't make any promises but I'll try."
"Thank you. Anything you need, please let me know and I'll do whatever I can to help."
"There's something that would help actually. Can you get me a copy of Bonnie's and April's schedules before they went missing? Auditions, people they came into contact with, anything relevant to their jobs or personal lives?"
"I shouldn't really…"
"It's important. It's pertinent information that I'll find out anyway so you'll only be saving me some time. Nothing will come back on you, I promise," I assured her. "I protect my sources."
"Okay. Wait here." She darted back to her office and returned a few minutes later with a thin sheaf of paper. "This is every audition they tried out for, casting calls they went to and shoot information. There are a few notes on their auditions too. Will that help?"
"Definitely. Thank you."
"I just want to know what happened to Bonnie," she said. "I can't bear the idea that she might be dead too."
"You're absolutely sure she wouldn't just up and leave?" I asked.
"Positive. Like I said, she didn't have any family. She split with her boyfriend. LA was her life. She was determined to make it here. She couldn't just leave. There was nowhere for her to go."
"What if something made her leave?" I asked, my mind spinning with all the things that could have gone wrong for a young woman alone.
The secretary frowned. "Like what?"
"Could she have incurred a debt that she couldn't repay? Or suffered a sexual assault? Or maybe endured a bad experience at a casting?"
"No debt. Bonnie was savvy like that and she worked another job to pay her bills. She would have reported a sexual assault and Marlene always gets feedback from clients after a casting. Bonnie was happy."
I thanked the secretary and called the elevator again. When Marlene barked her name from inside the office, she thanked me again and hurried back, closing the door behind her.
As I descended, I perused the papers she gave me, then looked at them in conjunction with each other. It was unlikely they came across each other, given their timelines, but they didn't appear to have any project in common either. Anything Bonnie worked on was all wrapped up long before April came to town.
Outside, I paused at a bench to sit down and call Ashleigh. "I saw your photo in the newspaper," she said. "You're one of the movers and shakers in town now, Winter."
"Ha-ha," I scoffed. "Can you look at someone for me?"
"You have a suspect in April Beam's case already?" Surprise and admiration seeped into Ashleigh's voice.
"No," I sighed because Ashleigh's admiration would have been a nice thing to have. Almost as nice as a suspect. "Another missing girl. Bonita Rodriguez. Goes by Bonnie." I reeled off the information I'd been provided.
"She's in the system as missing," Ashleigh confirmed moments later. "Ugh. Her case was assigned to Salmon. No wonder it didn't go anywhere."
"He's not a good detective?"
"That, and he went on sick leave five months ago. Depression, apparently."
"You don't believe that?"
"Alcoholism is closer to the truth."
"Would he have given Bonnie's case fair attention?"
Ashleigh sighed. "Probably not, no. He's lazy at the best of times, barely functioning the rest. Word has it he was forced to take time out or lose his job and pension. Her case file is probably under half an inch of dust on his desk. What makes you think Bonnie is connected to April?"
"They shared the same agent, Blank Faces."
"Along with how many others?"
"Does it matter? Bonnie went missing and her friend swears she wouldn't leave LA. Then months later, April goes missing and winds up dead."
"It's enough of a link that I'll look into it," agreed Ashleigh. "I interviewed the agency’s owner already but I'll let you know if I come up with anything new."
"I suggest you start there again but I can't tell you who. Any other developments?"
"Since we last spoke? I'm an ace detective, Shayne, but even I'm not that fast. I'm on my way to speak to April's family soon. I hope to have a bigger picture of her life then."
"They're local?"
"Yeah. They live an hour away."
"That poor family."
"Yeah. There's nothing I can tell them to make it better. I hate this part of my job."
"Come by tonight. We're getting together at my pool. Me, you, Jenna and Daisy."
"Will Mike be there?"
"Do you want him to be?" I asked.
"I like looking at pretty things."
"Is something going on between you two?" I asked, now curious. I knew they had a mutual admiration for each other and a casual flirtation but flirting was as easy as breathing for Mike. Plus, Ashleigh had moved her wedding ring to her other hand. Her husband’s death had devastated her so I knew moving the ring was a big step. Perhaps even a positive one for her future.
"Precisely nothing."
"He said the same."
"He's into you. I keep telling you that."
"I found him taped to my door yesterday," I said, ignoring her assertion. Mike loved to joke around but I didn't think there was anymore to it than that.
Ashleigh gulped a laugh. "This I have to hear. I'll come by later and I want the whole story. Photos too, if you have them."
"Damn it! I should have taken one!"
Slipping my phone into my pocket, I took another look at the papers Marlene's secretary gave me. Bonnie and April really didn't have any work in common at all. Not the same products
or the same production companies, and even though I tried to envision it, I couldn't see Marlene Davis as the type of woman who would murder her unsuspecting clients. Perhaps when I added Sammy Turturro's movements to the mix, I might find some crossover. Shuffling the papers together before sliding them into my purse, I got up and headed towards her agent's office.
April and Bonnie's agency was a tiny, two-women operation, but the offices of Sirens Talent Agency were a completely different affair. Occupying the first floor, a glass-fronted facade with etched letters two feet tall featured a steady stream of beautiful people flowing in and out. The whole place was intimidating. I wanted to grow twelve inches, lose ten pounds, and buy some new clothes and I hadn't even entered yet.
"Are you going in?" asked one of the willowy, pretty people as I paused by the doors.
"Yes," I said, nodding but not moving.
"You must be…" She looked down at me and frowned, apparently unsure what I might be. "New?" she settled on with a pleasant tone.
"That's right."
"They look like they bite but they don't. Everyone's been super nice to me," she said, smiling now as she flicked her long hair over her shoulder. "Come on. I'll take you to the front desk."
I was about to tell her that I appreciated her offer, but I was sure I could find the front desk; however, when she opened the door and ushered me inside, I realized I had no idea what Sirens' version of a front desk was. There seemed to be a dozen black-clad people milling around, talking into headsets or possibly to themselves. All of them were as glamorous as each other and engrossed in their own efficiency.
"This is it," said the model, depositing me next to an enormous potted tree.
"Where is the desk?" I asked.
"Oh, they don't do that here." She waved as she took off across the room, leaving me to linger awkwardly as I surveyed the open space. There were several desks where people worked and a mezzanine above, which several glass-fronted offices occupied but I couldn't see if anyone was in them. Sammy listed someone called Jessica Suarez as her agent but as I scanned the nameless doors, I knew finding her would be impossible. By the time I burst in on three people, security could be on the way. I had three options: bluff my way in, or reveal I was a journalist and hope Jessica would see me, or three, give the invisible receptionist the slip and look for her myself.
"Can I help you?" asked a woman my height with hair so shiny, it looked like a sheet of chocolate. She wore a headset, purple lipstick, and carried an iPad. I kind of liked her lipstick.
"I'm looking for Jessica Suarez," I said.
"I don't have a meeting in her calendar," she said, tapping the iPad. "Did you have an appointment?"
"No, I need to ask her a few questions."
She cocked her head. "I can make you an appointment?"
"It needs to be today. Now, really. It's a matter of absolute importance."
"Jessica is very busy." She glanced upwards, towards the mezzanine and I followed her gaze. Corner office.
I made a snap decision. "I'm Shayne Winter, a reporter with the LA Chronicle. You said I'm not in her appointments without even knowing my name, which tells me she doesn't have any appointments to be busy with," I told her, choosing option two with a dose of mild annoyance. "We're doing a story on the missing women of Hollywood and we're going to mention the agency. It'll be seen in a much better light if I can talk to someone."
Shiny hair spoke into her headset, turning slightly away from me while she relayed the information. "I'll take you up," she said, turning towards the stairs. "Follow me."
Through the glass walls, I could see Jessica waiting in her office, resting casually in her chair, a blank look on her face. When I entered, she got up and reached a hand across her desk. The blank expression, I realized, was likely from all the Botox treatments I suspected she received rather than a lack of interest. "Shayne, it's a pleasure to meet you," she drawled in a voice far deeper than I would have expected from her. "You're doing a story on whom? May I ask why?"
"It's a story about missing young hopefuls in LA."
"Oh?"
"Have you heard your client, Sammy Turturro is missing?"
"So I've been told but I'm not sure that's really the case. I don't have her listed as doing anything of merit so I'm not sure what I can tell you." Jessica waved me into one of the two leather seats opposite and I sat, finding it surprisingly firm for what initially appeared to be a tiny hammock suspended between metal bars.
"No?" I pulled out my notepad and waited.
"Of course, I heard Sammy appears to have taken off but I've no doubt she'll pop up in a day or two. She probably met a man. It happens. "
For two weeks? I wanted to angrily retort. Instead I asked, "Would Sammy have told you?"
"I doubt it. I'm her agent, not her therapist or her friend, and I have more than a hundred girls like her on my list. So do all my partners and associates."
"When was the last time you saw her?"
Jessica held up a silencing finger, then tapped her keyboard. "Three weeks ago. I sent her for an audition and she came by afterwards to talk about it. She didn't get the job and wanted to know what she could do better. I said if she changed anything about herself, I could guarantee someone would ask for exactly what she used to be and I advised her not to play that game."
"Did she mention being worried about anything?"
"Like what?"
"Someone else on the shoot? Another model or actor she was competing with? A casting director?"
"No, Sammy got on with everyone and even if she didn't, she was professional."
"So professional that she wouldn't turn up for work or tell her agent where she was?"
"I see what you're getting at, but Sammy hasn't missed any work. There's nothing on her schedule right now. I tried calling her about a shoot a couple of days ago but when she didn't get back to me, I had to send someone else."
"You didn't think it was unprofessional of her not to respond?"
"It happens in this fast-paced business. I didn't think anything of it."
I remembered what Nadia said about the agency offering their clients "extra" work of the less savory kind. "Did Sammy ever get involved in any other kind of work that made her uncomfortable?"
Jessica fixed me with a blank stare. "I don't know what you're getting at."
"Was she offered anything else where she would make money?"
"She probably had another job. Most of our clients have to in order to supplement their income between jobs or until they get something regular."
"Anything illegal?" I pressed.
"If there was, I wouldn't know. I don't get that involved in their lives. For the record, I wouldn't encourage anything illegal. We have a strict policy of no drugs here."
"What about prostitution?"
"Absolutely not!" Jessica leaned forwards and for the first time, a flash of something passed her eyes. Was it irritation or fear? "Just what kind of story are you running? If Sammy got mixed up in something like that, neither I nor the agency knew anything about it. In fact, I would have thrown her off the books myself."
"Can you think of anyone who would benefit from getting Sammy out of the way?" I asked, switching topics before Jessica threw me out.
Jessica didn't move but she did relax a little. "No. She's not one of our top girls. It wasn't like she was booked for a big job that could cause any kind of jealousy. She didn't even have any little jobs booked in. Can I ask you a question? What makes you think Sammy is worth a story? What makes you think she isn't just another girl who had too much to drink, did something stupid and is currently sleeping it off somewhere?"
"There's too much to suggest she's not that kind of person, including," I glanced down and consulted my notes, "your assertion that Sammy is professional. Would a professional do what you just suggested? Also, Sammy isn't the only one. Other girls are missing."
Jessica attempted to raise her eyebrows. "Actually missing?"
"A young woman
was found dead yesterday."
"Was it Sammy?" Another brief movement of her eyebrows.
"No. Another young actress."
"That's terrible. Poor girl. An accident?"
"It doesn't appear so. I'm looking into cases of other missing women in this profession."
"Then you're going to be looking a long time," said Jessica, relaxing now. She spread her arms wide, nodding to the busy office outside her own. "There has to be dozens of missing and not-quite missing girls in the city. Gwen? Can you show Shayne out?"
I turned, surprised that the shiny-haired receptionist was standing behind me. I didn't hear her enter or know that Jessica called her. She must have pressed something on her desk, I decided as I rose, knowing the interview was over. I thanked the agent for her time and as I stepped through the open doorway, Jessica called my name. I turned, expectantly.
"I hope you'll acknowledge that I've been as helpful as I can. There's no need to besmirch the agency's name over something we have no control over," she added icily.
"Thanks again for your time," I said, leaving before she could issue whatever threat she had lined up. I got the picture; smear Sirens and the lawsuit would arrive fast. The receptionist accompanied me all the way to the front door and lingered for a minute, watching me leave. I got the impression I wasn't exactly welcome. My questions had ruffled the otherwise unruffable Jessica Suarez. Unfortunately, I also didn't garner any credible information but perhaps I was asking the wrong person? Jessica was right; Sammy probably didn’t tell her agent anything personal. She would be more likely to tell her peers, perhaps even her colleagues. They were the people I needed to speak to.
There was a café on the corner of the street with a small outside area furnished with tables, chairs and big, yellow parasols. I headed over there and ordered a juice and a salad since I was hungry, taking one of the outdoor tables near a group of women who looked tall and skinny enough to be models. With any luck, they might be clients from Sirens or Blank Faces and I might be able to listen in. Sure, eavesdropping wasn't polite but neither was murdering April Beam.
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