Page 26 of Once Broken
A shared look of concern passed between them.
“We need to talk to Gillian Sinclair again,” Riley decided.“As Veronica’s close friend, she might know more about the HUAC testimony and who might have a grudge related to it.”
“Agreed,” Ann Marie said, already reaching for her bag.
Riley checked her phone again—still no updates from Bill.She sent a quick text: “Any news on Leo?”
As they gathered their things to leave, Riley’s phone vibrated with Bill’s reply: “Following a lead on the Dillard family.Will update soon.April is safe.”
The message provided minimal reassurance, but it was something.Riley tucked her phone away and followed Ann Marie out of the café, stepping back into the warm Atlanta afternoon.
The drive to Magnolia Gateway Films passed in relative silence, each woman absorbed in her own thoughts.Riley watched the city slide past her window—gleaming skyscrapers giving way to the more industrial landscape surrounding the film studio complex.Atlanta had transformed itself from a regional hub to an international film production center over the past decade, and Magnolia Gateway had been at the forefront of that evolution.
As they approached the studio entrance, Riley noted that the media presence had diminished somewhat since their earlier visit.Only two news vans remained parked across the street, their crews likely waiting for any developments in the high-profile case.Riley and Ann Marie drove past them unnoticed.
They checked in with the security guard at the gate, who then informed them, “Ms.Sinclair is on Soundstage 7, just follow the numbers.”
Riley drove past the familiar Soundstage 4, then 5 and 6.Soon 7 loomed before them, its massive doors currently slid halfway open.Unlike the meticulously recreated Midnight Lounge on Soundstage 4, this space buzzed with activity.Crew members moved purposefully around what appeared to be a partially constructed interior set—the skeleton of a Victorian-era drawing room taking shape amid scaffolding and piles of lumber.
As they entered, Riley felt the distinct temperature drop that characterized these massive, climate-controlled spaces.The cavernous interior echoed with the sounds of construction—drills whirring, hammers striking nails, voices calling measurements and instructions across the concrete floor.
Near the center of the activity stood Gillian Sinclair, her silver-streaked hair pulled back in a practical ponytail.She was deep in conversation with a younger woman who gestured animatedly at a set of blueprints spread across a folding table.Both women looked up as Riley and Ann Marie approached.
“Agents,” Gillian said, straightening.The lines of fatigue around her eyes had deepened since their last meeting, but her posture remained commanding.“Is there anything new?”Then she indicated the woman beside her, “This is Sarah Brooks, our director of production design."
Sarah—a woman in her thirties with short-cropped hair and paint-spattered jeans—extended her hand.“Agents.I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
“So do we,” Riley replied, noting the genuine emotion that flickered across the designer’s face at the thought of Veronica’s death.
“I still can’t believe it,” Sarah continued, her voice dropping slightly.“Veronica was a legend, of course, but she was also just...kind.Down to earth.She’d stop by the set during her visits, talk to everyone—not just the executives and directors.She remembered names, asked about people’s families.”She shook her head, blinking rapidly.“Sorry.It’s just...hard to process.”
“No need to apologize,” Ann Marie said gently.“Your perspective is valuable.You knew her professionally but also personally.”
“We weren’t really close, but I liked her.And if there’s anything I can do to help your investigation, anything at all—” Sarah began.
“We appreciate that,” Riley interjected.“We may take you up on it.”
Gillian placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.“Would you mind overseeing the rest of today’s construction?I need to speak with the agents privately.”
Sarah nodded.“Of course.The crew knows what they’re doing anyway.”She turned to Riley and Ann Marie.“My design studio is just off the main production office.I have all the archives from past Magnolia productions, including the original sketches from Roberta Rimes’ films shot here.”
As Sarah moved away, calling instructions to the construction crew, Gillian gestured toward the exit.“Let’s go to my office.It’s quieter there.”
They walked in silence across the studio lot, the afternoon sun beating down on them after the artificial coolness of the soundstage.Crew members nodded respectfully to Gillian as they passed, their expressions somber—the entire studio still operating under the shadow of Veronica’s death.
Back in her third-floor office again, Gillian directed the agents to the same two leather chairs.However, instead of taking her place behind her big desk, this time she chose a third chair, positioning herself as a participant in the conversation rather than its authority.“Do you have some new information about the case?”
Riley noted the change in seating arrangement—a subtle shift that suggested Gillian wanted a more collaborative dynamic.“We do.Malcolm Hartley is currently being held as a suspect.”
“I guess I’m not surprised,” Gillian said.“Veronica was so disturbed when she saw him that night of … of her death.And those photographs in his office …”
Her voice faded and she shuddered.
“We’ve learned more about his grudge against Veronica,” Riley continued, watching Gillian’s reactions carefully.“According to Malcolm, he was once a film historian working on a biography of Roberta Rimes.When he approached Veronica about including information on her mother’s testimony before the House Un-American Activities Committee, Veronica not only refused to cooperate but actively worked to destroy his academic career.”
Gillian sat back, her expression shifting from shock to something more complex—discomfort mingled with resignation.“I...had no idea about any of that.Veronica never mentioned it.”
“You find that surprising?”Riley asked.“Given your close friendship?”
