right?”
Cassie wasn’t sure where this was going, but admitted, “Recently I spoke to Lucinda Rinaldi. I visited her in a rehab facility.”
“She gonna be okay?”
“I don’t know. She was still struggling to walk, so it’s going to be a while.”
“I bet she’ll sue.”
“Maybe. It was sure as hell traumatic.”
“For everyone,” Holly said. “God, I still have nightmares. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.” She rubbed her arms as if experiencing a sudden chill.
As they rounded a corner Cassie added, “I saw Brandon McNary, too, well, actually I ran into him at Allie’s apartment building in Portland. Turns out he lives across the hall. Or he did while they were filming.”
“Wow, he still has the place?” Holly fumbled inside her bag and found her phone, quickly scanned her texts again, then pulled out a pair of oversize sunglasses.
“I guess.”
“Convenient.” She slid the shades onto her nose. “You haven’t talked to Arnette? The man thinks he’s God, y’know. Got one nomination from the Academy and suddenly, his head swells up and he’s like above everyone else.”
Cassie shook her head. “Not since right after the shooting on the set.”
“You were there,” Holly remembered.
“One of my few scenes had to be reshot and so, yeah, I talked to him that night, but it’s all kind of a blur. He called me the next day and also my mom. He was trying to get hold of Allie . . . but . . .” She shrugged, felt the dying sun’s warmth against her back. “. . . by then she was missing.” She slid Holly a glance. “For what it’s worth he said he was concerned.”
Holly snorted. “His star flat out disappears and someone’s shot on his production and he’s ‘concerned’? He’s a prick. Ask anyone who’s ever worked with him.”
“Have you run into anyone from Dead Heat ?”
“A few, but everyone’s into their own thing. Little Bea’s out of the country, I think, on location in London. At least that’s what Laura Merrick says. She still does my hair and makeup sometimes, so I get some info from her.” She shot Cassie a glance as Cassie pulled her keys from her purse and hit the keyless lock for her Honda. The little car responded with a chirp and a flash of lights. “And I heard that Sig Masters’s lawyer told him to keep quiet. Since he was the, you know, ‘shooter,’ it could have been big trouble. Or bigger trouble if Lucinda had died. And she could have. I think the bullet just missed her heart or aorta or something.”
Cassie hadn’t heard that. “Sig thought the gun was the prop.”
Holly lifted her shoulders and dropped them again. “Who really knows? Anyway, because of the ongoing investigation and his role, whether intentional or not, and the threat of a lawsuit, he’s keeping his mouth shut.” She pretended to zip her own lips closed.
“Probably good advice.”
“You know, I wouldn’t put a lawsuit past Lucinda to sue everyone she can. She’s such a freakin’ bitch and she’s always after money, that’s why she came to Hollywood, to make a fortune and when it didn’t turn out that way, she tried dating rich guys. Then, she discovered lawsuits. She’s already been involved with a couple. Don’t think she got much, though. If she did, she didn’t say and there’s like no new Ferrari in her garage or anything. Everyone in this goddamned town is so damned paranoid, so worried about saving their own skin, and your sister is missing! Maybe worse.” She was still slurring a little, but she seemed steady on her feet.
“Are you driving?”
They paused at Cassie’s car. Holly added, “You know I ran into Cherise at the fitness center. The one where we all go. Well, Allie went there, too.”
Cherise Gotwell had been Allie’s personal assistant.
“And get this—” Holly touched Cassie on the forearm and teetered on her four-inch heels. Her fingers tightened and she righted herself. “Sorry. I guess I had one too many and
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