“He’s our client, and he’s playing the Greek tonight. Would you and Nick come to the concert as a thank-you for helping me out? There’s a party afterward. I’ll introduce you to Steve.”

  “Are you serious?” When I was nineteen and singing along to his albums in my dorm room, if someone had told me that I would end up meeting Steve Weller backstage at a concert, I would have screamed out loud. Today I pumped a fist and mouthed a silent yes.

  I said to Nick, “Want to go to Steve Weller’s concert at the Greek tonight and meet him?”

  “Absolutely.” Nick turned onto the freeway entrance toward North Hollywood, smiling.

  “Nick and I are in,” I said to Robin. “And coffee’s on me this afternoon.”

  Chapter Seven

  After Nick dropped me off at my car, I drove to Beverly Hills and pulled into one of the Collins Talent guest parking spaces beneath their Camden Drive office building. I took the elevator to the fifth floor. A girl with spiked black hair, wearing a black leather miniskirt and a silver metallic tube top, greeted me in front of the huge “COLLINS TALENT” sign. I gave her my name.

  “Hi, Liz. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Lulu, the receptionist,” she said without pausing. “I started here a year ago. Robin’s expecting you. You know where Sam’s and Robin’s offices are, right?”

  “Yes, thanks, I do.” I pointed down the hall.

  “Cool, then. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

  I walked down the eggshell-colored hall, lined with framed black-and-white photographs of movie and music stars—all clients of the agency Sam Collins founded almost twenty years ago. Potted fig trees, flourishing from the light off the windows at each end, were set between rows of simple beige file cabinets on beige carpeting. Steve Weller’s album played in the background. At the end of the hall, I entered the familiar door to Sam Collins’s suite.

  Robin came around her pine desk to hug me. She held me tight. When I pulled back to look at her, I saw the dark circles framing her eyes. I settled into one of the guest chairs and adjusted my skirt down to protect my legs from the scratchy tweed upholstery.

  “Are you holding up okay?” I said.

  “I’m trying.” She took a deep breath. “You came at a good time. I’m ready for a break.”

  “I finally met your new receptionist,” I said. “Chatty.”

  Robin laughed. “Lulu? I’m sorry. She talks everyone’s ear off, convinced that each new friend could be her ticket to stardom. The clients love her, though.” She glanced toward the closed door to her right. “We can be out of here in no time. I’m anxious to hear what you found out. Sam is in his office with Buzzy Lacowsky, our independent publicist. They’re finishing up a call, and then Sam’s leaving to meet Steve.”

  “Steve?” I said.

  “Weller. They’re going to sound check.”

  I laughed. “Oh, yes, him.”

  “I’m so happy you’re coming tonight.”

  “Me, too. And Nick asked me to thank you for the invite. We’re both excited,” I said. “Will Orchid be at the show?”

  “Yes. I’m making her drive back to school afterward. I don’t want her alone in the house in case there are any more threats.”

  “Did you get the camera installed?”

  “Yep. This morning. But I still don’t want her coming home to . . .”

  An auburn-haired whirlwind in a purple paisley mini-dress and a Prada tote on her shoulder blew in holding a paper cup. She headed toward Sam’s closed office.

  As the girl reached for the doorknob, Robin darted out of her chair and blocked the door. “Sam and Buzzy are on the phone with a client, Sophie. I can’t let you go in right now. Sorry.”

  Sophie stopped short, clicked her tongue, and then dropped into the chair next to me. She set the coffee cup on the corner of Robin’s desk, crossed her legs, and sighed.

  “Liz, this is Sam’s girlfriend, Sophie Darcantel,” said Robin. “Sophie, this is my friend Liz Cooper.”

  Sam’s girlfriend? Sophie looked more like Sam’s daughter than his lover.

  “Hi.” Sophie glanced at me, then began to rummage in her tote bag. She took out a large envelope and dug deep into the bag until she came up with a phone. She began texting, then said to Robin, “I need three more names on the guest list and a parking pass for myself tonight.”

  “Give the names to Lulu,” Robin said. “Why do you need a parking pass? Aren’t you riding with Sam?”

  “No. I’m going home to change after the sound check. Sam likes to sit behind the board during the show, and it’s too boring for me to hang out through another whole concert of old-people music. I already saw the show in San Diego and Phoenix. I don’t want to sit through it again. I’ll come back at the end for the party.”

  “Suit yourself,” Robin said as she typed on her keyboard. “Lulu has all the passes.”

  Sophie left the room as fast as she entered it.

  “Old-people music?” I frowned. “When did that happen?”

  Robin laughed and held up a hand. “You don’t even know. I’ll tell you later.”

  “I’m going to freshen up while we’re waiting for Sam to leave,” I said, standing.

  Out in the hall, Sophie was bent over Lulu’s desk. A deliveryman came out of the elevator and walked toward her, his eyes fixed on either the carpet or Sophie’s legs. From the smile on his face, it wasn’t hard to guess which one. I, and the young agent walking in the hall ahead of me, had a full view of her cleavage. Both men kept their heads turned to Sophie until they collided at the side of the reception desk. I laughed.

  Sophie said to Lulu, “You’re sure all my friends will get their passes at the gate?”

  “Positive,” Lulu said with a vigorous nod. “I’ll be there myself. Just call me if there’s a problem.”

  I headed to the ladies’ room. When I returned to Robin’s office, Sophie was standing behind the computer, reading the screen. She looked up at me, walked around the desk, took a hand mirror and a small wand out of her purse, and dabbed gloss on her lips.

  The inner door to Sam’s office opened. Robin came out with two men. The first was in his midthirties, dark haired and balding. He cracked a smile at Sophie.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he said to her, reaching his arms out wide. “Come here and give Buzzy a big hug.”

  Sophie let him hold her briefly while he whispered something in her ear that made her giggle.

  Sam Collins, slim, pale, and handsome, brushed past them. He nodded at me, and then turned to Robin. “Is the driver here yet with the car?”

  “Yes, he’s waiting for you in front of the building,” Robin said.

  He took Sophie’s arm. “Let’s go,” he said, and headed for the door with Buzzy following.

  Robin called after them. “Sam, I’m going out for a little while. Lulu will watch the phones. Call my cell if you need anything.” She came back in and pulled her purse from the drawer. “Let’s go. I need some fresh air.”

  I noticed the envelope sitting on the edge of Robin’s desk. “I think Sophie left this behind.”

  “Will you grab it?” Robin said, walking out. “We’ll catch them at the elevator.”

  But by the time we got to the end of the hall, Sam and Sophie were gone.

  Lulu stopped Robin. “Sophie gave me three more names for backstage tonight. That makes ten of her friends on the list. Is that approved?”

  “Just put them on,” Robin said.

  We got onto the elevator, and I said, “Ten friends? Sophie acts like she owns the place. Sam lets her get away with that?”

  “She’s harmless,” Robin said. “And not as important to him as she’d like to believe. Want to walk to the coffeehouse on Beverly? It’s only three blocks.”

  “Sounds good. Can we stop at my car for my sweater? And what should I do with this?” I held up Sophie’s envelope.

  “Oh, damn. My purse is too small for that thing. I hate to go all the way back upstairs. Do you mind carrying it along in your tote? I’ll take it back to the office with me later.”

  Inside the garage, a yellow Mini Cooper convertible with temporary Beverly Hills dealer plates was parked next to my car. “I saw that car earlier,” I said.

  “The Mini Cooper? They’re cute, aren’t they? Sam just gave that car to Sophie as his breakup gift. But she doesn’t know that yet,” Robin said. “He’ll probably tell her it’s over after the concert tonight.”

  “Girls get cars for breakup gifts in Beverly Hills? I live in the wrong neighborhood,” I said.

  Robin smiled. “Don’t call your real estate agent. It’s unique to Sam.”

  “That car with those dealer plates was parked in Hollywood near the shop that sold the tarot deck,” I said, pulling my sweater from the backseat of my car. “Quite a coincidence, isn’t it? Do you think Sophie could be your harasser?”

  Robin’s mouth dropped open. “Sophie? Are you certain it was that car?”

  The afternoon sun warmed our backs as we walked through Beverly Hills. I described Osaze and his sanctuary, his loathing for Madame Iyå, and our trip to Botanica Mystica. “Madame Iyå told us a voodoo princess has the only other copy of the tarot deck, confirming my suspicion that a woman left the tarot cards at your door. Why didn’t you bring up Sophie when we talked possibilities?”

  “You didn’t tell me to list significant others,” Robin said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “We were going over everyone you knew,” I said. “Sophie never came to mind?”

  She didn’t answer. I followed her into the coffeehouse, jammed with customers on Blackberries or cell phones. We settled with our drinks at a small table near the door.

  I stirred a packet of sugar into my mocha and said, “Come on, Robin. What’s going on? Why aren’t you all over the fact that a car identical to Sophie’s was on the street outside Madame Iyå’s shop? You can’t ignore the connection.”

  “Sophie doesn’t know where I live.” Robin stared at the foam on her latte.

  “That’s all you can come up with? Anyone who knows where you keep your purse could go into your desk drawer and find your driver’s license. You can’t tell me that today was the first time you left Sophie alone near your desk. And she didn’t look too thrilled when you blocked her out of Sam’s office.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  I snapped my wooden stirrer in half. “Too complicated to bring her up the other night? Too complicated to mention before Nick and I spent our morning tracking down the tarot cards for you?”

  Robin started to reply, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. Maybe it is Sophie. But why would she go after me?”

  “Let’s talk it out. Tell me what you know about her.”

  “Sam’s been dating her since last spring,” Robin said. “The first few months, she and I were friendly. Nothing special, just chitchat. Then she began to ask personal questions about Sam. I either changed the subject or pretended I was too busy to talk. When Sam began working on the agency merger a few weeks ago, he warned me about discussing it in front of Sophie. The busier he got, the nosier she got, and the less I talked to her.”

  “So Sam looks like a good guy by giving her a car, and you, by his instruction, stopped being chummy with her and shut her out.” I sat back in my chair. “It sounds like Sam set you up to be the bad guy.”

  “Sophie has nothing to gain by threatening me.”

  “She may think that if you wigged out and quit, his next assistant would be nicer to her and easier to manipulate.”

  “If that’s her plan, she loses. He’ll probably break it off with her tonight.” Robin’s face became red. “How could she be so brazen as to go to my house? I better warn Sam to be careful.”

  “Let’s talk to her first. We’re not positive yet. Her car in front of Botanica Mystica is a big red flag. It’s significant but . . .” I remembered something Madame Iyå had said. “Is Sophie from New Orleans?”

  “Yes. How did you know that?”

  “I didn’t. But I do know that the voodoo princess with the tarot deck is from New Orleans. I have an idea. Tonight I’ll ask Sophie if that was her car I saw parked near Botanica Mystica today. There’s no reason for her to lie about it. She either knows the shop or she doesn’t. If she admits it, all the pieces fall together.”

  “No, don’t.” Robin stood up. “I’ll talk to her myself.”

  We tossed our cups and walked back to Collins Talent. Robin gave the window displays in the shops more attention than usual. Her silence made me wonder if she was holding something back.

  “I want to be there when you talk to Sophie,” I said. “The tarot cards and the photo were scary enough to alert the police and increase your security. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to approach her alone. The handwritten threat and the symbolism on your photo worry me. They reveal an almost unhinged anger and spite over something you may have done without even realizing it.”

  “She’d lie if you were there,” Robin said.

  “She could also lie if the two of you are alone,” I said as we climbed the steps to the front of the office building. I stopped. “I’m worried about you. I can’t figure out why you’re cavalier about this. Yesterday you were freaked out.”

  “Yesterday I didn’t know who the bully was. Today I do. I can handle this myself.” Robin took a packet out of her purse. “Here are your tickets for the concert. I’ll give you your backstage passes at the show. The Greek gets chilly at night so dress warm and stay close to your man.”

  “My man?”

  “Excuse me? You spent the day with Nick. Didn’t he ask you out?”

  “No, of course not.” I noticed that the subject of Sophie was closed.

  “He will,” Robin said. “I saw the way he looked at you last night. His eyes followed you everywhere.”

  “You’re so wrong. Nick’s just a friend.”

  “I think you’re missing something. Dress sexy for him and warm for the cool night air.” She got on the waiting elevator.

  Annoyed, I took the steps down to the garage. What was she up to with Sophie? And what the hell was she thinking about Nick and me?

  Chapter Eight

  Late-afternoon traffic crawled as I drove from Beverly Hills into Studio City. Meanwhile, my mind raced back over the day. I pulled into my townhouse garage with just enough time to shower and dress for the concert.

  The scent of pumpkin wafting from the autumn potpourri on the kitchen counter reminded me how hungry I was. I stopped at the refrigerator and found a cheese stick to munch on and wandered into the living room. I flicked on the lamp next to the fireplace, closed the front curtains, and headed upstairs.

  The message light was blinking on the phone in the office loft.

  “Liz Bear, it’s me, babe. I’m pitching in the play-offs tonight in Houston and ESPN’s televising the game. I hope you’ll be watching.” Ex-husband. Delete.

  “Where are you, darling? It’s Mom. I’m waiting for you to call me and tell me what Nick . . .” Delete.

  “Hi, Liz. It’s Nick. I’ll pick you up at seven fifteen. Don’t forget the tickets.” Replay. It doesn’t sound like he’s flirting with me. Replay. I like his voice. Delete.

  I padded across the hall into the bedroom and dropped my tote on the chair next to my dresser. The tip of Sophie’s envelope peeked out. Damn. I’ll take it to Robin tonight. I started the water for a shower, stripped, and glanced at myself in the mirror on the sliding closet door. Not bad. I stepped into the tub, shampooed, and scrubbed my skin with a brown sugar and honey paste. As water pounded on my face and ran over my breasts, I wondered what Nick looked like naked. I shook my head. Snap out of it. We’re friends. I had to get dressed or I’d be greeting him at the door in a towel.

  After I dried my hair, I slathered rose-scented lotion over my body. I slid into jeans from the back of my closet, pulled on socks, and zipped up my boots. A heavy black pullover covered a long-sleeved cotton T-shirt. I brushed on blush and mascara and finished with amber lipstick. Good enough. I took my wallet from the tote and slipped it into a small shoulder bag. The phone rang. I knew who it was without looking.

  I went downstairs to answer, taking the cordless into the living room, and sank into the white Camden chair next to the fireplace. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Did you just get home? Why didn’t you call me? Well?” My mother’s voice was at full high pitch. “Did you find the tarot cards?”

  “We did.” I told her about Madame Iyå’s shop but left out the visit to Osaze. Knowing my mother, she’d be inviting not only Nick, but also all of his occult friends to the next family barbeque.

  “Did Madame Iyå tell you who bought them?” she said.

  Although the details about a mysterious voodoo princess would make my mother’s night, I didn’t have time to get into it. “She didn’t give us a name, but Robin and I think it might be Sam Collins’s girlfriend.”

  “I knew Nick Garfield would guide you to the right place,” she said. “I did a reading about Robin today and drew the Chariot. Victory after adversity.”

  She talked on about her genius idea to involve Nick and her opinion of Sam’s conniving girlfriend until the doorbell rang and I interrupted her.

  “Gotta go, Mom.”

  I opened the front door. Nick smiled and examined me, head to toe. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

  “Yes, this is what I’m wearing.” I looked down at my tight jeans and heavy sweater, then back up at him, hurt. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing at all—you look great. Just want to be sure you’re warm enough.”

  I already felt flushed. I grabbed my purse, and we headed out the door. On the way to the concert, I told him about Sam, Sophie, and the Mini Cooper in the lot.

  The Greek Theater was nestled under the starlit sky in a hillside in Griffith Park, just northeast of Hollywood. We took our seats in the tenth row on the aisle. The chatter of the crowd and the smell of pine filled the air. Before the concert began, Nick went to the concession stand and returned with a box of hot dogs and drinks. Robin and Orchid followed behind him.

 

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