She rushed up. “Hey, Colton!” she exclaimed as if she hadn’t seen him in months.
“Uh-oh.” He tipped his chin down and looked up at her with puppy dog eyes. “You’re probably mad at me for taking that picture of Lorelei’s ass.”
“Fine, tight ass, though,” the other actor said. The two of them high-fived.
Pigs. “I’m not mad at all,” Wendy said. “Hey, let me take a picture for you guys!” She held out her hand for Colton’s phone.
And he gave it over! She squealed with triumph inside. Finally, something was going right for her. “Smile!” She held the camera in front of her and centered the men’s embrace in the frame. She snapped a picture, then said, “Hold on,” and pretended to examine the photo. “The flash is messed up. Try again.” They put their arms around each other. She snapped another picture and pretended to be looking at it.
The second they got bored and turned away from her, continuing their macho catching-up, she fled across the room. All she needed was a head start to get away from Colton and a few seconds to find the photo of Lorelei and delete it.
She didn’t look back. She imagined a heavy hand clapping her on the shoulder at any second. No one stopped her. She slid past the velvet rope across the entrance to the museum exhibits. In a murky room lit only by the exit sign overhead, she stopped between statues of Babe Ruth and Cher and thumbed backward through Colton’s photo gallery to the picture of Lorelei’s naked butt cheeks. She hit the menu to bring up the command to delete the picture.
Out of the darkness, the phone was grabbed away from her so fast that her fingers stung.
That was the last thing she remembered.
* * *
Daniel spent a long time talking with the movie producer on the sidewalk outside the museum, far enough away from the paparazzi gathered at the entrance that he and the producer wouldn’t be overheard. Surprisingly, Colton had made a good impression when he’d talked with the man. Daniel skirted the subject, building rapport as he and the producer discussed mutual colleagues such as Victor Moore. By the time they wrapped up their talk, Daniel felt confident that the producer would be calling Colton in the next few weeks for a reading to be cast in a blockbuster movie.
They said good-bye, and Daniel was very thankful the producer headed for his car. Colton had been mostly sober when Daniel left the party, but that might not still be the case, the way the gin had been flowing.
The night was dark, but as Daniel reentered the party, the museum was darker. The spotlit statue of Lorelei’s dead mother seemed to suck all the light out of the rest of the room. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, movement was the first thing he detected. The tiny figure edging past the barrier into the exhibit rooms was Wendy, the front of her long hair swept into a braid that hid the space where her missing lock should have been, the back cascading in loose curls around her shoulders. Her curve-hugging sequined dress caught one sweeping strobe light, and then she disappeared.
Colton was harder to find. And it was harder to move around the room looking for him now that the partiers were drunker. Some people wanted to stop Daniel to ask him about Victor and Olivia’s wedding of the century. Others wanted to discuss whether Lorelei was really on coke after all, the way she’d pulled her skirt down. What? Daniel became alarmed as more people told him parts of this story. He suspected Colton had something to do with it.
He finally found Colton coming out of the restroom. Daniel asked, “Did you take a picture of Lorelei mooning you?”
“Yes!” Colton laughed.
“What did you do with the picture?” He prayed Colton hadn’t posted it online. If Lorelei wanted to self-destruct, that was Wendy’s problem. But if Colton posted a picture of that self-destruction and helped it along, the public would associate him with it, even blame him.
Colton opened his hands. “I didn’t do anything with it. I lost my phone.”
“You lost your—” Daniel stopped himself before the top of his head blew off. Colton eyed him sheepishly. Daniel stepped out of the way of another man entering the restroom, then started again. “How could you lose your phone? Do you realize what the paparazzi could do with your photos and your contacts?”
Colton nodded. “I know. I think Wendy may have it. I hope she does, but I haven’t seen her since I gave it to her.”
Daniel pressed his lips together and counted to five. “Why did you give Wendy Mann your phone? She’s the enemy.”
“She was doing me a favor, taking a pic of me and my home slice,” Colton protested. “Since when is she the enemy? I thought you were back to tapping that ass.”
Daniel uttered the filthiest rebuke he had ever delivered to a client in his six years of representing the Blackstone Firm. Colton looked outraged. Daniel thought for a moment that if his father found out, this could be the end of his career. He didn’t care. Colton was not going to talk that way about Wendy. He turned on his heel and stalked toward the forbidden exhibit where Wendy had disappeared.
As he went, he tried to calm himself down. He was afraid he was falling for Wendy. Nothing could be more horrible when he needed to manipulate her to get Colton out of hot water.
She had the upper hand.
And now she had Colton’s phone. Daniel had no idea what she planned to do with the information she found on it. Possibly pure evil. Tomorrow he would get another ten calls from his father telling him that his inability to control Colton was a disgrace to the firm. His brother, had he been alive and in charge, would not have allowed this to happen. Daniel plowed around the velvet rope.
In the shadows, Wendy’s body was a pink and blond spill across the floor.
He skidded to his knees in front of her, grabbing her wrist so he could take her pulse, which was still there, thank God. He kept his fingers on her artery and counted her heartbeats. With the other hand he found his phone and dialed 911, quickly explaining the situation to the dispatcher.
“Daniel,” Wendy murmured. “I’m up. I think somebody hit me.” She reached for the back of her head.
“Don’t move.” He leaped up, hurried to the edge of the lobby, and waved Colton’s bodyguard over. Daniel gave the bodyguard his phone with 911 on the line and told him to bring the paramedics through the back of the building so the paparazzi wouldn’t report that someone had been injured at the party.
On second thought, Colton might be in danger if Wendy’s attacker was still in the building. Lorelei, too.