drew Bailey into a hug. “Yes, you can. I understand that you’re hurting, and I’m so sorry about your sister. It might not be a bad idea to leave town.”
After all, who knew if this killer would strike again?
She stroked Bailey’s hair. “Don’t give up on your dreams. Charity wouldn’t want that.”
Bailey nodded against her, although she was trembling when she pulled away.
For a brief second, she considered offering Bailey a place to stay with her, but a small picket line at the corner of the street near the parking lot made her rethink the suggestion. Several individuals waved signs protesting the filming of the movie as they chanted for the outsiders to leave the town alone.
With sentiment against her, her close call in the street, and the fact that the killer had sent her a photo of Charity, having Bailey stay with her might endanger the young woman.
Bailey sighed wearily, and they finished crossing the quadrangle, then the parking lot, until they reached a beat-up VW Beetle. Bailey unlocked the trunk, retrieved a computer bag, and threw it over her shoulder.
“What do you think that agent will find on here?” Bailey asked.
“I don’t know,” Josie said. “Maybe a clue as to whom your sister might have met up with at that party. Someone other than the photographer.”
Bailey nodded. “He has to find the bastard who killed her.”
“He will,” Josie said with conviction.
Bailey leaned against her car. “I can’t go back in there today. I need to be alone.”
“I understand.” Josie reached for the bag. “I’ll give this to Agent Hamrick.” She brushed Bailey’s sandy blonde hair over her shoulders. Then she slipped a business card from her pocket and slid it into Bailey’s hand. “Call me if you need anything, Bailey. Even if it’s just to talk.”
Bailey nodded, although fresh tears filled her eyes. She swiped at them, then crawled in the driver’s seat and started the engine. Josie’s heart lurched to her throat as Bailey drove away.
Maybe she should have told Bailey about receiving that picture from the killer. But she didn’t want to spook the young girl.
Still, the killer knew her, had chosen her for a reason.
That worried her. She’d barely survived one maniac. She didn’t know if she could survive if another one came after her.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she scanned the parking lot and quadrangle.
Was the killer here? Was he watching her?
Small clusters of actors gathered across the lawn, and others were scattered on the steps. Josie shivered as a gust of wind ruffled her hair, and then she hurried toward the building.
Before she reached the steps, a man’s voice called her name. She spun around and gasped.
The man in front of her looked exactly like the man who haunted her nightmares—Billy Linder.
Dane passed a line of teenagers as he headed toward Easton’s makeshift studio. The man had contracted to do headshots for new actresses and also still shots for promotional purposes for the film.
If he was a parent, Dane wouldn’t want his daughter to play the role of one of the teens in this film, especially since three of them had been pushed to death off a cliff.
As he walked down the hall, Dane noticed several rooms were marked for auditions, and voices echoed from inside. A room at the end of the hall bore a sign for Easton’s Photography. Three young women waited outside the door. Hoping they had answers, he flashed his ID along with a photo of Charity and asked if they knew the woman.
“I’ve seen her around but haven’t talked to her,” one girl said.
“Same here,” another girl added.
The third girl brushed on lip gloss. “Why, did she get one of the parts?”
Dane shook his head. “No, I’m afraid she was killed after the barbecue. Did anyone see her or talk to her that day?”
Mortification darkened their smiles, but they shook their heads no.
“What happened?” one girl asked.
“She was stabbed to
After all, who knew if this killer would strike again?
She stroked Bailey’s hair. “Don’t give up on your dreams. Charity wouldn’t want that.”
Bailey nodded against her, although she was trembling when she pulled away.
For a brief second, she considered offering Bailey a place to stay with her, but a small picket line at the corner of the street near the parking lot made her rethink the suggestion. Several individuals waved signs protesting the filming of the movie as they chanted for the outsiders to leave the town alone.
With sentiment against her, her close call in the street, and the fact that the killer had sent her a photo of Charity, having Bailey stay with her might endanger the young woman.
Bailey sighed wearily, and they finished crossing the quadrangle, then the parking lot, until they reached a beat-up VW Beetle. Bailey unlocked the trunk, retrieved a computer bag, and threw it over her shoulder.
“What do you think that agent will find on here?” Bailey asked.
“I don’t know,” Josie said. “Maybe a clue as to whom your sister might have met up with at that party. Someone other than the photographer.”
Bailey nodded. “He has to find the bastard who killed her.”
“He will,” Josie said with conviction.
Bailey leaned against her car. “I can’t go back in there today. I need to be alone.”
“I understand.” Josie reached for the bag. “I’ll give this to Agent Hamrick.” She brushed Bailey’s sandy blonde hair over her shoulders. Then she slipped a business card from her pocket and slid it into Bailey’s hand. “Call me if you need anything, Bailey. Even if it’s just to talk.”
Bailey nodded, although fresh tears filled her eyes. She swiped at them, then crawled in the driver’s seat and started the engine. Josie’s heart lurched to her throat as Bailey drove away.
Maybe she should have told Bailey about receiving that picture from the killer. But she didn’t want to spook the young girl.
Still, the killer knew her, had chosen her for a reason.
That worried her. She’d barely survived one maniac. She didn’t know if she could survive if another one came after her.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she scanned the parking lot and quadrangle.
Was the killer here? Was he watching her?
Small clusters of actors gathered across the lawn, and others were scattered on the steps. Josie shivered as a gust of wind ruffled her hair, and then she hurried toward the building.
Before she reached the steps, a man’s voice called her name. She spun around and gasped.
The man in front of her looked exactly like the man who haunted her nightmares—Billy Linder.
Dane passed a line of teenagers as he headed toward Easton’s makeshift studio. The man had contracted to do headshots for new actresses and also still shots for promotional purposes for the film.
If he was a parent, Dane wouldn’t want his daughter to play the role of one of the teens in this film, especially since three of them had been pushed to death off a cliff.
As he walked down the hall, Dane noticed several rooms were marked for auditions, and voices echoed from inside. A room at the end of the hall bore a sign for Easton’s Photography. Three young women waited outside the door. Hoping they had answers, he flashed his ID along with a photo of Charity and asked if they knew the woman.
“I’ve seen her around but haven’t talked to her,” one girl said.
“Same here,” another girl added.
The third girl brushed on lip gloss. “Why, did she get one of the parts?”
Dane shook his head. “No, I’m afraid she was killed after the barbecue. Did anyone see her or talk to her that day?”
Mortification darkened their smiles, but they shook their heads no.
“What happened?” one girl asked.
“She was stabbed to
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