Page 75 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

It was the second break-in that had unnerved her the most, he realized. She’d had herself under control until Norma Drysdale told her that 2B had been broken into twice. Now Irene looked like she was in a trance.

“It’s all right,” he said. “You’re staying with me until we figure out what is going on, remember?”

At that, she finally looked at him.

“Thank you,” she said very politely. “But we both know that won’t work indefinitely. I need to make some progress in my investigation before anyone else gets killed.”

“I agree.” He turned the key in the ignition. “But I think we’ll have more luck back in Burning Cove than we will here in L.A.”

“Because of the power of Tremayne’s studio here in the city?”

He put the car in gear and drove away from the curb. “The studios may control Hollywood and, by extension, L.A., but their reach does have limitations. They’re not the only game in town in Burning Cove. Neither Luther Pell nor I take orders from the studios.”

“Still, the studios have a lot of influence. If they were to forbid their stars from patronizing your hotel or the Paradise Club—”

“You need to keep some perspective, Irene. First of all, we’re only dealing with one studio—Tremayne’s—and it’s not even the biggest or most powerful one in Hollywood. Second, as far as the studio is concerned, this is all about business. Yes, Tremayne is a valuable property, at least for now. They’re trying to protect their investment. But if the executives at the top conclude that he’s more trouble than he’s worth, they’ll drop him without a second’s hesitation.”

“Just business.”

“Exactly.”

“So I have to find some evidence that will convince the studio that Tremayne isn’t worth protecting.”

“That’s our goal. Ready to go home?”

She shook her head and turned back to contemplate the front door of the Ocean View Apartments.

“I can’t go home,” she said. “I just got kicked out of my apartment.”

“Slip of the tongue. I mean, are you ready to go back to Burning Cove?”

“I guess so. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go.”

“Your enthusiasm is a little underwhelming.”

She took a deep, steadying breath and tightened her grip on herhandbag. “I’m still feeling... disoriented. I can’t believe that the studio sent someone to break into my placetwice.”

“Neither can I.”

She cast him a quick, pleading look. “You’re supposed to reassure me. Tell me the studio is just trying to frighten me.”

“I could use some reassurance, too. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I have the distinct impression that you consider the studio threats to be preferable to something else that might be even worse.”

She sat very still. He knew she was trying to decide whether or not to confide in him.

“You’ve got a right to your secrets, Irene,” he said. “But we’re dealing with murder. If there’s something else going on, I need to know about it.”

She said nothing for a moment, and then she evidently came to a decision.

“It’s a nightmare,” she said quietly. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about starting with whatever you’re carrying around in your handbag.”

She looked at him, speechless and maybe even appalled. “How did you know?”

“Maybe because you’ve always got a death grip on it?”

She groaned. “Is it that obvious?”

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