Page 13 of Her Last Secret

As it turned out, Sarah and Emily had performed in two plays together in the past year and a half. Rachel’s hope was that she and Jack would find a few names that overlapped with both actresses. If this killer was indeed targeting actresses, people from the theater world who had worked with the victims could potentially be the best source of information.

As it turned out, her hunch had not only been right, but it had not taken long at all to find a few names. She’d found one, and Jack had come across another. And now, after grabbing the contact information for both, Rachel and Jack sat expectantly at her desk, looking at her cell phone as it started to ring.

The first name was Christine Gonzales, an actress who had shared the stage with both victims in a play called Whispers in the Dark. The playbill had showed the headshots of the cast; Christine looked to be in her mid-to-late thirties, and of Hispanic descent.

The line rang four times before it was answered. A quiet female voice answered. “Yeah?”

Rachel was used to vague, almost rude greetings. In a world where most people simply ignored calls from unfamiliar and unknown numbers, those who did dare to answer were usually quite short and blunt.

“Christine Gonzales?” Rachel asked.

“Yes. Who is this? I swear, if it’s some spam call or a—”

“It’s not. Ms. Gonzales, my name is Rachel Gift, special agent with the FBI. I’m here with my partner, Special Agent Rivers. We’re trying to find answers concerning the deaths of Emily Ross and Sarah Jennings.”

“Oh, okay,” she said with a tone of slight embarrassment. “Sorry I was so rude.”

“No need to be. We got your name from a playbill for Whispers in the Dark. Right now, we’re just hoping to speak with people who knew Emily and Sarah, people who might be able to shed some light on their last few days.”

"Oh, I see. Well, I hadn't seen Emily for about two or three weeks. Sarah, even more than that. I ran into her at a bar last month, and we ended up sharing a bottle of wine. Pissed our dates off, but it was fun to catch up."

“What can you tell me about them?”

There was a brief pause before Christine's voice, warm and slightly husky, filtered through the receiver. "Oh, Emily," she sighed, the sound mingling with nostalgia. "She was such a light on stage. A real talent, but even more, she had the kindest heart. She'd stay late just to help others run lines. I don’t think she even cared if she got a part or not. She just loved to be around the stage, around scripts. She loved every aspect of theater."

“And Sarah?”

“Sarah was a force of nature,” she answered with a stiff laugh. “She kept to herself most of the time, but when you let that girl loose on stage…whew, you’d better watch out. She was kind, too, but I do think she had a bit of a temper in her.”

“Were you ever aware of any arguments or drama in either of their lives?”

"Nothing comes to mind," Christine replied, her tone growing somber. "I’m telling you…they were both really well-liked. Emily especially. It's such a tragedy what happened."

"Thank you, Christine. Look, you have my number. If anything comes to you in the next few days, please give me a call.”

“I absolutely will. Good luck with everything.”

After exchanging pleasantries, Rachel hung up and turned to Jack, her brows knit together in thought. “This may sound stereotypical of me, but you’d think actresses would be full of gossip and drama, right?”

“That is a pretty bad stereotype,” Jack said in mock disappointment.

"All stereotypes originate from somewhere,” she said. “And I think it may have also wiped her right off of our list of suspects.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”

Rachel shrugged innocently, already back to the linked names they'd compiled, not wanting to get sidetracked. "Did you get the contact info for Finn Estes?"

"Yep, right here," he said, placing a sticky note on her forearm.

Finn had worked with Sarah on three different plays, and Emily on just one. Still, his intersection of them both made him a point of interest. Rachel made the call and, unlike Christine, it was answered right away. A man’s voice filled the line after the first ring, loud and to the point.

“Hello?” he said—though he said it in a way that made it sound likeyellow.

“Mr. Finn Estes?”

“Speaking. Who’s this?”

Rachel went through her usual introduction, quickly getting to the point. Finn’s response was immediate; an enthusiastic tone underscored by an undercurrent of sadness.

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