Hollywood Confessions (11 page)

“
I’m sorry—where are the cameras now?” I asked.

Nanny smiled. “Gone. Thank goodness. When Barker died, production on all of his shows halted.”

Which meant less exposure for the girls…but also for Deb. “So, Deb’s on a book tour, you said?” I asked.

Nanny nodded. “Yes, just finishing it up.”

“
Was she out of town then when Barker was killed?”

Nanny squinted her eyes, as if trying to remember the day. Finally she shook her head. “Actually, no. There was a break between her Dallas signing and Denver signing. She came home for the weekend.”

Music to my ears. I tried not to grin as I asked, “I suppose the police have already looked into alibis for the family?”

She shot me a look.

“
As a formality. I mean, they always do on
Law & Order
, right?”

“
Yes, they did.” She paused. Then added, “Not that they needed to. Every movement this family has made in the last three years has been caught on film.”

Which might make for a screwed-up childhood for the dozen, but made my life a whole lot easier. I made a mental note to track down that footage and see just want kind of alibi Deb had on the night Barker was killed.

“
So, shall we get started?” Nanny McGregor asked.

“
Started?”

“
With the lesson.” She clapped her hands, summoning the girls over to us. I noticed that while we’d been talking, Pink Ribbons had reappeared with three older girls in tow. Three very sour-faced preteens ambled my way. I had a feeling Nanny was right; the show really wasn’t doing their personalities any favors.

“
Girls, this is your new coach. She’ll be working with you on runway presentation,” Nanny said, gesturing toward me.

I swallowed, nodded, did a little one-finger wave at the three of them.

They stared at me.

“
Uh, okay, let’s get started.” I racked my brain, trying to remember some of the lingo from the Miss America pageants. “Uh, let’s start with…evening wear?”

The bigger of the three blinked at me. “You mean beauty?”

“
Right. Sure. Beauty.”

“
I’m wearing pink. And she’s wearing hot pink. And she’s wearing pale pink.”

Great choices. Maybe these girls weren’t so bad after all.

“
Okay, let’s work on your walks, then.” I put a hand on my hip, swaying it to the left and right as I walked across the practice room. I thought I heard Pink Ribbons giggle at me.

I spun around. “You try now,” I said, nodding to the three older girls.

They looked at each other. Then at me. Finally the bigger one shrugged and put a hand on her hip, sashaying across the room.

This time I was sure I heard Ribbons giggle. And whisper to the Barbie judge, “I give her a three.”

Chapter Seven

Half an hour later I finally escaped Pageantland, hoping I hadn’t screwed up their girls’ chances at Pretty Little Miss too badly. I drove straight to the
Informer
, using my voice program to type up my notes on Don and Deb as I drove. Not that I had anything more than vague theories at the moment, but I figured a few pictures of Nanny McGregor’s legs, a couple of shots of Don looking smarmy at some club, and the public could put two and two together just as well as I could.

As soon as I hit the offices, I proofed the copy for typos then sent it through the
Informer
’s system to Felix’s desk. I glanced down at my watch. 3:49. Was I good or what?

My copy turned in, I focused on hunting down the footage that could possibly condemn or exonerate Mom of Barker’s death. I started by calling my very small network of informants to see if anyone could get me raw footage from the night Barker had been killed. Unfortunately the footage had yet to air, and was, from all I could gather, locked up tight at Sunset Studios, in a holding pattern now that Barker was gone and the future of the show uncertain. I talked to one grip, who knew an extra dating the third camera guy on
Don & Deb’s Diva Dozen
, who informed me he thought he could get me a copy if I was willing to pay. Ten thousand bucks. Let’s face it, my contacts sucked. And even I wasn’t brave enough to spend that much of Felix’s money.

Which left me with just one more alternative.

I picked up the phone and punched in the main number to Real Life Productions. A young guy with a distinctly San Franciscan accent answered, “RLP, how may I help you?”

“
Uh, hi. Can I please speak with Alec Davies?”

“
And who may I ask is calling?’

“
Allie Quick.”

“
And this is regarding?”

I bit my lip. “Paris Hilton.”

There was a pause on the other end, then a, “Please hold.”

I waited a moment, listening to a musak rendition of “Love in an Elevator” before a familiar voice came on the line. “Paris, huh?”

I could hear the grin behind his words and pictured those dimples to go along with. It was a nice image. Nice enough that I felt myself blush a little, glad he couldn’t see me. “I thought you’d enjoy that.”

“
So, Miss Quick, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

I pictured him leaning back in his chair, his voice casual, his feet up on his ridiculously expensive desk.

“
I was wondering if I could ask you a teeny tiny favor.”

“
A teeny tiny one, huh?”

“
Miniscule.”

“
I tell you what—you can ask. I can’t promise to deliver.”

“
Fair enough.
Don & Deb’s Diva Dozen
. I was wondering if I could have a little peek at the footage from the day Barker died?”

There was a pause. Then, “Why?”

Great question. But I figured I had nothing to lose by being honest this time. “I want to see if the cameras caught Deb’s alibi for the night Barker died.”

I heard leather on leather squeak as Alec shifted in his chair. “Again, I have to ask, why? Do you have some evidence that points to her in his death?”

“
Evidence? No.”

“
A hunch?”

“
You could call it that.” I paused, unsure how much Alec knew about Don’s affairs. “I couldn’t help but notice life has become a lot less public for the family since Barker died.”

“
That’s true,” Alec hedged.

“
Which could be a godsend when you’re the butt of two out of three late-night monologue jokes.”

“
Good point.” I could hear the smile in Alec’s voice.

“
Their new contract,” I asked Alec, “what happens now that Barker is dead?”

“
Their contract is with RLP, so technically it would still stand.”

“
Technically.”

“
Right.”

“
But in actuality?”

He sighed. “In actuality, the future off all our shows is up in the air. Look, I’m the first to admit, I’m a details guy. I can run a show like clockwork. But Barker was the creative force behind them all. Without him, I’m not sure we
want
to continue all the shows, let alone
can
continue.”

“
Which might leave those wanting out of their contracts, or out of the spotlight, a nice motive.”

Alec paused. Then, “I’ll see if I can dig up the footage. No promises, but I’ll see what I can find.”

“
Perfect!”

“
Always glad to help my friendly neighborhood tabloid reporter,” he said. Then hung up.

I was still celebrating my mini-victory when I heard Felix’s voice bellow from across the room.

“
Quick!”

I jumped in my seat, spinning around to find him framed in his office doorway, staring at me, eyebrows drawn.

“
My office. Now!” he said. Then ducked his head back in the door.

Uh-oh. Not good.

I took a two count to pull myself together (tugged my hemline down, fluffed my hair up) and pushed through the glass doors to find Felix at his desk, eyes intent on his computer screen.

“
You got my copy?” I asked.

“
Reading it now.”

“
Is there a problem?”

His gazed popped up. And immediately I knew there was. His eyes were an angry dark blue, his lips drawn tight, his forehead creased. “With the copy? No. With my credit card? Yes.”

I cleared my throat. “Your credit card?”

“
What the hell is a charge for a limo service doing on my account?”

“
You got the bill already, huh?”

“
Yes, I got the bill already! Tell me what the hell one of my reporters is doing gallivanting around town in a limousine?”

“
I was hardly gallivanting,” I protested.

“
Allie…” he growled.

“
I was investigating. I needed the limo to get into the studios to interview Alec Davies.”

The vein subsided slightly. “What do you mean, you needed it to get in?”

“
They weren’t going to let me in, so I pretended to be Paris Hilton. And she wouldn’t very well drive a Bug with broken air conditioning, would she?”

Felix opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it then closed it with a click. “Very clever.”

I did a mental sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“
But very expensive.”

“
Which is why I used your card.”

And just like that, the storm in his eyes was back. “Yes, I noticed that. Exactly what are you doing with my credit card?”

“
I memorized the number. For emergencies,” I confessed. “Which, clearly this was.”

He opened his mouth to speak, paused, shook his head and settled for running a hand through his hair, making it stand up in little tufts. “Just tell me you got it.”

“
Got what?”

“
The interview with Alec Davies? ‘Paris’ was allowed entry to the studios, I presume?” he asked.

“
Yes, she was. And, yes, I did.”

“
And?”

“
And Davies is not our killer.”

“
So he wasn’t outside Barker’s then?”

“
Well, yes, he was actually.”

Felix paused. “But he has an alibi for the time of the murder?”

“
Um, well, no, not exactly. But he was gone by then.”

“
Gone?”

“
He had dinner with Barker, went over some scripts then left. While Barker was still alive,” I added.

“
And we’re certain he didn’t sneak back in and off the fellow?”

I paused. “Define ‘certain?’”

Felix closed his eyes and rubbed his temple as if a headache was brewing there. “Okay. So, tell me—upon what are we basing his innocence?”

I bit my lip. I was pretty sure the answer he was looking for wasn’t a charming smile and a killer pair of dimples. “It’s just a feeling,” I finally settled on.

“
Are you blushing?”

“
What?” I ducked my head. “No.”

“
Huh.”

I cleared my throat. “Anyway, I think Deb has a much more viable motive to want Barker dead.”

Felix glanced at my copy on his computer screen. “Especially if her husband was, in fact, sleeping with the nanny, as you’ve so cleverly insinuated.”

I couldn’t help feeling just a little pride at the word ‘cleverly’.

“
Any idea if she has an alibi?” Felix asked.

“
I’m working on it.”

“
What about Don?” Felix asked. “Any idea how he felt about Barker possibly taking the name of his affair public?”

I shrugged. “I’m guessing not so hot?”

“
Don’t guess. Find out,” Felix ordered.

“
On it,” I said, making a mental note to track down American’s favorite philanderer tomorrow.

“
Good. Someone like you should be able to get him to open up easily enough.

I paused. “Like me?”

He nodded. Then looked at my boobs.

“
You mean, a stacked blond?” I clarified, jutting one hip, planting both hands on it.

He sighed. “Look, you know as well as anyone that you’ve got to use what you have to get the story you need.” He glanced down again. “And Don clearly has a thing for what you have.”

I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, Tina was right. You really do think my asset to this paper ends in a cup size, don’t you?”

“
That’s not what I meant.”

“
That’s exactly what you meant. Tina uses her contacts, Cam uses her camera and I use my body. Gee, good thing I went to college.”

“
Hey, you’re the one who just impersonated Paris to get into Sunset Studios,” he pointed out. “What do you call that?”

I shook my head. “That’s totally different.”

“
How, may I ask?”

“
It…it just is!”

“
Grand argument.”