Jack?
He glanced up.
Max grinned. Shes something, isnt she? Do you recognize her?
Cant say that I do. Jack returned his gaze to the picture. Is there some reason I should?
Shes been in a few movies, done some TV spots. Shes still relatively obscure, but her last few roles have won her a fair amount of critical acclaim and she seemed on the verge of breaking out before she became embroiled in a scandal that pretty much stopped her career dead in its tracks.
What kind of scandal? Jacks curiosity was piqued in spite of himself.
She was involved with some big shot producer by the name of Owen Fleming out in L.A. Ever heard of him?
Jack shook his head. He didnt pay much attention to movies unless he wanted to impress a woman. Which kind of made Maxs earlier point, he supposed.
They managed to keep the affair under wraps for several months, Max said. Then he bought her this huge diamond which she flashed around L.A., and the wife got wind of it. The whole thing blew up into a nasty PR mess, and apparently Celeste decided to get out of town until things cooled off. We figure thats why shes back in Houston.
What do you mean shes back in Houston?
She went to school here. From what I understand, shes still pretty tight with her old drama professor at the university. They even lived together for a while before she took off for L.A. You may want to talk to him at some point as well as to her current roommate. Max reached for the folder and flipped through the pages. Olivia DArby. Shes an actress, too, although her parts seem to be few and far between.
What about the client? Who is he? Who was the guy willing to plunk down $75,000and that was just for startersfor a chance encounter with Celeste Fortune?
I cant tell you that. The identity of our clients remains confidential, even to our operatives. Max took another sip of his scotch. Sowhat do you say? Are you in?
Yeah, he was in. But after a week on the job, Jack was more certain than ever that he didnt have the stomach for this kind of work. He hated to think that he might actually be giving off the same sleazy, stalker vibe as some of the low rent P.I.s who used to hang around the police department, hoping to pick up a tip.
He had to admit, however, that it was easy money. Most people would probably be amazed by the amount of their personal information that could be accessed with little more than a phone call or a Google search.
Celeste Fortune was no exception. Since Jack had taken the assignment, hed learned all kinds of interesting tidbits about her, but the broader picture was that of a small-town girl searching for loveand famein all the wrong places.
The story was as old as Tinseltown itself, and as Jack finished with the first Dumpster, he wondered again why a woman with Celeste Fortunes looks and talent had allowed herself to become such a cliché.
And now another man wanted her. Another man was willing to pay a small fortune to have her.
But in the week since hed started watching her, it was Jack who had unwittingly fallen under her spell.
* * *
SHE STOOD IN front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom of her suite, her gaze going from her reflection to the magazine cover that shed propped on the nearby dresser. She sighed. Who was she trying to kid? There was no way she could measure up to that airbrushed fantasy. She must have been out of her mind to think that she could ever be anything more than a small-town girl with big dreams and a penchant for trouble.
Just look at the mess shed made of things, and she was only twenty-eight. There was no telling how screwed up her life would be by the time she turned thirty. And it wasnt like running away was going to resolve the situation. If anything, it would only prolong the agony.
Still, leaving had seemed like a good idea at the time. If you cant stand the heat, get out of the kitchen, her mother had always advised, and taking that counsel to heart, shed fled town in the middle of the night, and now here she was, holed up in a ritzy boutique hotel in Houston.
Going stir-crazy.
Honestly, what good did it do to be in the city of her dreams, trying to start a new life, if she couldnt even leave her suite? Would it really hurt to take a brisk walk through Hermann Park or a leisurely stroll along Montrose Boulevard? What would be the harm in visiting a museum or two, or having lunch at one of the trendy eateries on restaurant row?
Shed had her heart set on taking in all those places until her cousin, Sissy, had firmly disabused her of the notion.
Sissy Fontenot aka Celeste Fortune.
All the stars use look-alikes nowadays when they want to avoid the press, her cousin had explained on the phone a few days ago. So when my publicist suggested I get a decoy until this mess blows over, I immediately thought of you, Cassie. Remember how people always used to think we were twins when we were little?
Well, we are double cousins, Cassie murmured, still flabbergasted by Celestes proposition. Could she, Cassie Boudreaux, really pretend to be a glamorous movie actress? Could she pull it off? Did she dare even try?
What a question. Of course she dared if it meant getting out of Manville, Louisiana, and away from the hateful glancesnot to mention voodoo hexesof the Cantrell clan. Leaving their golden boy at the altar hadnt exactly endeared Cassie to Dannys family.
I havent seen you in years, Celeste said carefully. You haventput on a lot of weight or anything, have you?
Cassie sent up a quick prayer of thanks for the fifteen pounds shed lost since her breakup with Danny. Uh, no. Im still the same size I was in high school. More or less.
Are you sure? Because I happened to see your engagement picture in the Manville Gazette, and I thoughtnow dont take this the wrong wayI thought you might be starting to take a little after Grandma Boudreaux.
Cassie tried to control her outrage. She did not take after that evil old woman in any way, shape or form. Not only had their grandmother possessed a nasty disposition, shed weighed well over three hundred pounds at the time of her death. The family had had to choose her pallbearers accordingly.
That picture was shot from a bad angle, Cassie insisted. And besides, the camera adds ten pounds.
I took that into consideration, Celeste blithely informed her. Anyway, I was surprised by how much you still resemble me. In the face, I mean. Youll need to lighten your hair, of course, but for Gods sake, dont get it done down there. Cassie could picture her cousins shudder. Ill make arrangements with a salon in Houston. Theyll do your nails, too, and show you how to wear your makeup. Oh, and start working out, okay? From what I could see in that picture, you could stand to firm up a little, and its never too late to start counting the old calories. Weve still got a few days. If you watch your carbs, you could drop ten pounds before we meet in Houston.
Drop ten pounds? In a matter of days? Maybe in Dreamworld, Cassie thought acerbically. But in the real world it had taken a major life crisis to finally pry off the freshman fifteen shed been carrying around since college. And as for exercise, shed had to give up her daily walks after Earl Cantrell, Dannys uncle, had tried to run her over one morning.
Drop ten pounds? In a matter of days? Maybe in Dreamworld, Cassie thought acerbically. But in the real world it had taken a major life crisis to finally pry off the freshman fifteen shed been carrying around since college. And as for exercise, shed had to give up her daily walks after Earl Cantrell, Dannys uncle, had tried to run her over one morning.
Dont expect me to go on some starvation diet just so I can fit into your size zeros, Cassie said resentfully. I like the way I look.
And Im sure you look just fine. For you, Celestes tone implied. Look, itll hardly matter. After everything thats happened, who would be surprised if Im not looking my best? And besides, no one will get more than a glimpse of you anyway. You wont be leaving the hotel except when you take Mr. Bogart for his walks.
Mr. Bogart?
My Chihuahua. I hate leaving him behind, but it might look strange if you were spotted without him. He goes everywhere with me. Dont you, sweetie?
Cassie heard what sounded like a whimper on the other end, then her cousin said anxiously, Youll take good care of him, wont you? He likes to go out first thing in the morning and right before he retires in the evening. And he has to eat three meals a day or his little system gets all out of whack.
Dont worry, Cassie said with a grimace. Ill treat him like he was my own. Which wasnt saying much considering she really wasnt a dog person. Look, Sissy
Celeste.
Look, Celeste, are you saying the only time I can leave the hotel is when I take the dog for a walk? I mean, were talking a whole month here.
A whole month in a luxury hotel. Youll have your own Jacuzzi and steam shower, not to mention twenty-four-hour room service.
I know, but a whole month? Now it was Cassie who shuddered.
Celeste sighed. I guess youre right. I guess that is too much to ask, even of family.
Even as a child, her cousin had been an expert travel agent when it came to guilt trips, but this time Cassie wasnt booking.
When she said nothing, Celeste gave another dramatic sigh. Okay, tell you what. Ill plan a few outings for you in advance. Ill even make all the arrangements. That way, if any of the paparazzi should somehow find out where youre stayingI mean, where Im stayinga glimpse of youmenow and then might help convince them that Im flying solo these days.
In other words, no Owen Fleming.
Where will you be? Cassie couldnt help asking, although she already had her suspicions. Why would Celeste go to so much trouble, not to mention expense, to set up such an elaborate ruse if she wasnt planning an assignation with her married lover?
Dont you worry about that. You just concentrate on convincing everyone that Celeste Fortune is in seclusion nursing a broken heart.
Her cousins evasive answer did little to assuage Cassies qualms. If Margo Fleming got wind of a tryst between her husband and Celeste, thered be hell to pay. It could literally cost Owen a fortune and Celeste, what was left of her career.
From everything Cassie had read of the scandaland shed devoured every juicy morsel she could get her hands onMargo Fleming was a powerful woman in the film industry. Shed bankrolled Owens first few productions, and she could make or break a budding starlet.
Her cousin was playing with fire. But then, that was the Boudreaux way, wasnt it?
* * *
JACK HAD JUST finished going through the last Dumpster when a noise alerted him that he was no longer alone in the alley. It was a subtle sound, kind of like a whimper. He might have chalked it up to the rodents skulking about nearby excepthed never known a rat to snivel.
Nor had he ever seen one dragging a leash, he thought, as he watched the tiny creature ease toward him through the shadows. When the Chihuahua was close enough, Jack knelt down and put out his hand. The dog hesitated, then came prancing over.
Are you lost? Jack reached for the collar, then jerked back when the Chihuahua snapped at his hand.
Slowly he stood. Okay, okay, no touching. I get it.
A womans voice called from the street, Mr. Bogart? Where the hewhere are you, sweetie? Come to Mother.
Jack glanced down at the dog. Sounds like youre being paged. Be a good boy and run along.
The Chihuahua stared at him unblinkingly and began to wag his tail.
Oh, so now were friends, all of a sudden?
Mr. Bogart? Are you down there? The woman was in the alley now, her voice getting more frantic by the moment. Any second now she would come around the corner, spot Jack, and then would undoubtedly alert the night manager of a prowler, who in turn would probably call the police. And since there was no good explanation for Jacks presence behind the Mirabelle at that time of night, he decided it would be best all around to avoid such a confrontation.
He tried to quietly shoo the dog away by waving his hand. When that didnt work, he whispered fiercely, Go! Vamoose! Am-scray! The tail wagged even harder, and Jack could have sworn the damn dog grinned at him.
Muttering an oath, he moved out of sight behind one of the Dumpsters just as the woman came hurrying around the corner.
Mr. Bogart! Come on, now. Its not funny anymore. If you-know-who finds out The woman stopped short when she saw the dog. Mr. Bogart?
The dog didnt move. His beady gaze remained fixated on Jack.
Whats the matter with you? The womans voice lowered. What do you see behind there?
If she came any closer, she would spy him, Jack thought. He glanced at the dog. Get lost, he mouthed.
Obviously not one to take a hint, the Chihuahua ran over, lifted his leg, and peed on Jacks boot.
the hell! Jack jerked his foot reflexively, and the dog, disturbed in the middle of a call from nature, began to yap at the top of his little lungs.
The woman gasped when she saw Jack.
And Jack froze. His breath rushed out of his lungs, and he felt tingles all up and down his spine. There she stood, the object of his fascination, mere inches away. So close he could reach out and touch that honey-gold skin of hers, stroke his hand down her sexy blond hair, which was now covered by a scarf. She wore dark glasses, too, even though it was night, but Jack would have known her anywhere.
For the longest moment, no one but the dog said anything.
Then Celeste Fortune came at him so fast Jack barely had time to react. What the hell do you think youre doing, you pervert? What kind of monster kicks a defenseless little dog like that?
Jack managed to put up an arm to ward off the first blow.
Help! Police! she screamed.
As she drew back to swing her purse again, Jack took that as his cue to get the hell out of there. He picked up his bag and sprintedas best he could in rubber bootsdown the alley.
Celeste Fortunes shrieks followed him all the way to the street, and as he hurried toward his borrowed car, he heard the wail of a police siren a few blocks over.
Man, she was good.
* * *
POLICE AT THIS HOUR are on the scene of a brutal homicide in the Montrose area. Very little information is being released to the public, but we have learned that the victim was a young woman in her late twenties, and neighbors say she lived alone. The similarities to the five grisly murders that occurred here last summer are bound to stir a lot of bad memories for residents in this area. As the viewers will recall, John Allen Stiles, also known as the Casanova Killer, was convicted on five counts of first-degree murder and is now serving consecutive life sentences at Huntsville. But there are some who still maintain his innocence, including a former HPD detective.