York.”
“So? She could’ve flown out here, shown up at the studio disguised as a tourist, poisoned the donuts, and then flown back again.”
Incorvia shot me a skeptical look. Even I wasn’t buying that theory.
“At the time of the murder, Quinn’s wife was at Elaine’s restaurant in New York City, having drinks with Regis and Joy Philbin.”
“That still leaves a lot people who could have done it,” I insisted.
Incorvia nodded. “Including yourself.”
Oh, crud. I was back in that damn prison jumpsuit again.
“Relax,” he said. “I asked around about you, Ms. Austen. I know you helped solve a murder in Westwood last year. So I’m reasonably certain you had nothing to do with this crime.”
“What about Kandi?” I asked. “You don’t really think she did it, do you?”
“Her, I’m not so sure about.”
“You’ve got to believe me. My best friend is simply not a murderer.”
“That’s what Ted Bundy’s best friend said.”
He flipped the pages in his notebook until he came to a clean page.
“One final question before you go,” he said.
“Yes?”
He leaned forward in his chair.
“What’s the best way to get an agent?”
Huh???
“You see, I’m writing this screenplay, about a cop in Hollywood….”
I couldn’t believe it. Kandi was right. Everyone in L.A. has a script to sell. I wouldn’t be surprised to come home one of these days and find Prozac banging one out on my computer.
“It’s a zany action-comedy-thriller,” he said. “Alfred Hitchcock meets Jackie Chan.”
Holy Moses. First Lance, now this.
“Actually, I don’t have an agent,” I demurred.
“Too bad,” he sighed. “Oh, well. Maybe you’d like to read it when I’m through. Give me some notes.”
The last thing I wanted to witness was Alfred Hitchcock meeting Jackie Chan. The guy was nuts if he thought I’d waste my time reading his stupid script.
“Sure,” I said, smiling brightly. “I’d love to.”
Back in our office, Kandi was lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, a copy of Variety spread open across her chest like a funeral shroud.
“The worst has happened,” she moaned.
“What’s wrong?”
She pointed to the Variety . I read the headline: Cops Quiz Comedy Scribe .
“I always wanted to make the front page of Variety . But not like this. I’ll never work again.”
“Of course you will. Everyone’s going to forget all about this.”
“Right. Just like they forgot about O.J. Simpson.”
“Don’t be silly,” I said. “By next week, this’ll be old news.”
I smiled brightly, but Kandi just lay there like a poster child for Clinical Depression.
“By the way,” she said, “my agent dumped me today.”
“Oh, no.”
“She said she was on ‘client overload,’ and it wasn’t fair to keep me on since she was no longer able to give me the attention I deserved. And so she’s turning me over to a hot new agent in the office.”
“A hot new agent? That sounds great.”
“The ‘hot new agent’ is a kid in the mail room. The guy has zero clout. Even his own mother doesn’t return his phone calls.”
She took the Variety and put it over her face.
“Come on, honey,” I said. “As soon as they catch the real killer, you’ll be in the clear, and agents will be lining up to represent you.”
“As soon as you catch the real killer.” She peeked out from under the Variety , and looked at me pleadingly. “Really, Jaine. I’m counting on you to get me out of this mess.”
Oh, great. There wasn’t too much pressure on me, was there?
“I’ll do all I can,” I promised. “But you mustn’t give up on the police. Detective Incorvia seemed like a very capable guy.”
“But he thinks I did it,” she said, tossing the Variety in the trash.
“No, he doesn’t,” I fibbed. “He’s got lots of suspects he’s investigating.”
“Yeah, but why do I get the feeling I’m leading the pack?”
“That’s not true,” I fibbed again.
“Why? What did
“So? She could’ve flown out here, shown up at the studio disguised as a tourist, poisoned the donuts, and then flown back again.”
Incorvia shot me a skeptical look. Even I wasn’t buying that theory.
“At the time of the murder, Quinn’s wife was at Elaine’s restaurant in New York City, having drinks with Regis and Joy Philbin.”
“That still leaves a lot people who could have done it,” I insisted.
Incorvia nodded. “Including yourself.”
Oh, crud. I was back in that damn prison jumpsuit again.
“Relax,” he said. “I asked around about you, Ms. Austen. I know you helped solve a murder in Westwood last year. So I’m reasonably certain you had nothing to do with this crime.”
“What about Kandi?” I asked. “You don’t really think she did it, do you?”
“Her, I’m not so sure about.”
“You’ve got to believe me. My best friend is simply not a murderer.”
“That’s what Ted Bundy’s best friend said.”
He flipped the pages in his notebook until he came to a clean page.
“One final question before you go,” he said.
“Yes?”
He leaned forward in his chair.
“What’s the best way to get an agent?”
Huh???
“You see, I’m writing this screenplay, about a cop in Hollywood….”
I couldn’t believe it. Kandi was right. Everyone in L.A. has a script to sell. I wouldn’t be surprised to come home one of these days and find Prozac banging one out on my computer.
“It’s a zany action-comedy-thriller,” he said. “Alfred Hitchcock meets Jackie Chan.”
Holy Moses. First Lance, now this.
“Actually, I don’t have an agent,” I demurred.
“Too bad,” he sighed. “Oh, well. Maybe you’d like to read it when I’m through. Give me some notes.”
The last thing I wanted to witness was Alfred Hitchcock meeting Jackie Chan. The guy was nuts if he thought I’d waste my time reading his stupid script.
“Sure,” I said, smiling brightly. “I’d love to.”
Back in our office, Kandi was lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, a copy of Variety spread open across her chest like a funeral shroud.
“The worst has happened,” she moaned.
“What’s wrong?”
She pointed to the Variety . I read the headline: Cops Quiz Comedy Scribe .
“I always wanted to make the front page of Variety . But not like this. I’ll never work again.”
“Of course you will. Everyone’s going to forget all about this.”
“Right. Just like they forgot about O.J. Simpson.”
“Don’t be silly,” I said. “By next week, this’ll be old news.”
I smiled brightly, but Kandi just lay there like a poster child for Clinical Depression.
“By the way,” she said, “my agent dumped me today.”
“Oh, no.”
“She said she was on ‘client overload,’ and it wasn’t fair to keep me on since she was no longer able to give me the attention I deserved. And so she’s turning me over to a hot new agent in the office.”
“A hot new agent? That sounds great.”
“The ‘hot new agent’ is a kid in the mail room. The guy has zero clout. Even his own mother doesn’t return his phone calls.”
She took the Variety and put it over her face.
“Come on, honey,” I said. “As soon as they catch the real killer, you’ll be in the clear, and agents will be lining up to represent you.”
“As soon as you catch the real killer.” She peeked out from under the Variety , and looked at me pleadingly. “Really, Jaine. I’m counting on you to get me out of this mess.”
Oh, great. There wasn’t too much pressure on me, was there?
“I’ll do all I can,” I promised. “But you mustn’t give up on the police. Detective Incorvia seemed like a very capable guy.”
“But he thinks I did it,” she said, tossing the Variety in the trash.
“No, he doesn’t,” I fibbed. “He’s got lots of suspects he’s investigating.”
“Yeah, but why do I get the feeling I’m leading the pack?”
“That’s not true,” I fibbed again.
“Why? What did
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