Page 23 of Behind the Scenes
My stomach grumbled. I hoped she hadn’t heard, but her smirk told me she did.
Looking at her dimpled smile in the morning light while still remembering her blood-stained face the night before was giving me whiplash.
Reluctantly, I put the coffee down and grabbed the fork on the plate before going straight for the blueberry pancakes.
But as soon as I took a bite, I paused. A familiar taste spread across my taste buds. One that had memories flashing through my mind like a TV screen.
“These are from Veronica’s café,” I mumbled, forcing myself to take another bite.
How did she get these?
“I had my assistant pull some strings,” she said with a shrug. “You don’t have much here, and I knew you’d probably get peeved if I brought my chefs in, so I made some slight adjustments and worked with what I could. Do you like it?”
In my stupor, I almost said yes.
“What do you want?” I asked instead and focused on trying not to shove the entire plate of food into my mouth.
Veronica’s had been a staple for me in the past. Mostly when I was so exhausted from studying up on my cases that I took my laptop there and sat for hours eating those very same blueberry pancakes.
They were delicious, but nothing special. It was the hours and hours I’d spent working there and building up my career that caused me to still love them so much.
Nostalgia.
I hadn’t been there in ages.
How the hell did she know? What strings did her assistant pull to get this information?
Harley moved to the end of the counter and pushed a stack of white papers over to me.
“A contract,” she said as if I couldn’t read the bold letters in the header. “But you can take your time to read it. I’m sure you have more pressing questions first.”
It was hard to hide my snort.
Fuck yeah, I have questions.
Questions, concerns, glaringly obvious issues. Like thinking I wanted to call the police since I stepped out of my room.
“So that wasn’t your first kill, obviously. We established that last night.” I gave her a look. “What’s your selection process like? How often do you do it? Or is this something you only do for people you’re obsessed with?”
She let out another laugh. It was warm and sent heat up my neck and face.
“I’ll tell you a bit, but I won’t fully disclose anything until you sign that,” she said, motioning to the stack of papers in front of me.
“Tell me what you can then.”
“No, he was not my first, but I also don’t do it for people I’m obsessed with,” she replied. “Let’s just say I have somewhat of an unusual hobby. Like you said last night, actor by day, killer by night.”
Harley was not my first murderer, but there was something different about her. She was oddly sane even as she was admitting what she just did. Usually, the people who confided in me about their murders were more… deranged.
She had looked pretty unhinged the night before, but for the most part, she seemed as normal as any of my other clients. Maybe even more so.
“And if I say no again?”
“The footage will be hand-delivered to a detective of my choosing,” she said.
My heart stopped in my chest.
Ah, so that’s where it went. And that’s why the cops didn’t mention it.
