Fearless in High Heels by Gemma Halliday Page B

around the jowls, giving his face a bulldog look.  Adding to the canine image, his eyes were small, set far apart in his face, and, at the moment, sharply intent on Dana and me.
    “I’m Larry Goldstein,” he said, rising from behind his desk to shake our hands.
    “Maddie Springer,” I offered.  “And this is my friend, Dana Dashel.”
    “Very nice to meet you,” he said, sitting again.  “How may I help you ladies?”
    “We wanted to ask you a few questions,” I started.
    He raised one bushy eyebrow.  “Such as?”
    “How well do you know Becca Diamond?” Dana blurted out.
    He frowned, his forehead wrinkling.  “Who?”
    “Don’t play coy with us,” Dana said, taking a menacing step forward.  Well, as menacing as a blonde in a mini skirt and three inch heels can be.  “We saw you pick her up in your car last night.”
    The frown between his bushy eyebrows intensified.  “You mean Willow?”
    I cocked my head to the side.  “I mean the redhead in the black dress and dark wig who jumped into your car outside Sebastian’s place.”
    “Right,” he agreed, the confusion lifting.  “Willow Morte.”
    “A stage name?” I asked.
    He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  All I know is she said her name was Willow.”
    “Okay, fine.  So how well do you know Willow?”
    “Why do you want to know about her?”
    “We have some… issues to discuss with her. And we’re having a hard time reaching her.”
    He sucked in his cheeks, nodding.  But whether he bought the line or not, he seemed curious enough to continue the conversation. 
    “I knew her casually,” he said.  “I’ve seen her at a few parties.”
    “Sebastian’s vampire parties?  So, you’re a frequent guest?”
    His cheeks tinged red above his starchy collar.  “Well, I wouldn’t say frequent, but I do attend from time to time.”
    “And that’s where you met Willow?”
    He nodded.  “But I wouldn’t say I know her well.”
    “Well enough to take her home last night,” Dana pointed out.
    He paused, looking from Dana to me.  “What exactly is this about?”
    “Alexa Weston,” Dana answered.  “Did you know her, too?”
    Goldstein gave Dana a blank look.  Either he had no idea who she was talking about, or it was a fabulous poker face.
    “You may have known her by a stage name, too,” I added.  “She was Willow’s friend.  Long black hair, pale skin, super skinny.”
    Goldstein slowly nodded.  “I think I know the girl.  What about her?”   
    I bit my lip.  Apparently he hadn’t heard.  “Alexa was murdered three nights ago.”
    I could see Goldstein would be a champion in the courtroom.  His face was a total blank, any emotion he may have felt at the passing of the “immortal” Alexa was completely hidden.  For a second, I wondered if he’d even heard me.
    Finally, he spoke again.  “I’m very sorry to hear that,” he said, his voice a flat monotone. 
    “When was the last time you saw Alexa?” I asked, trying to pull something out of him.
    He paused, choosing his words carefully.  “Last week.  Sebastian had a party, and I attended.”
    “And both Alexa and Becca were in attendance, too?”
    He nodded.  “Yes.”
    “Where did you take Becca last night?” Dana asked.
    I watched Goldstein mentally try on several different answers before he finally settled on, “Why do you want to know?”
    “Becca was the last person seen with Alexa before she died.”
    “And we think she knows something about Alexa’s death,” Dana added. 
    Goldstein shook his head.  “No.  You must be mistaken.  Becca is not that kind of girl.”
    “So you do know her well,” I said. 
    He paused, looking from Dana to me, trying to assess just how much he should tell us.  Finally he nodded.  “Fine.  Yes.  I knew Becca well enough to know she would never kill someone.  She was a sweet girl.”
    I narrowed my eyes at him.  “Sweet” was not exactly the kind of word I’d expect anyone to use