Cassie’s thoughts were still on how she could possibly find her sister as she watched the woman leave. She finished her scone and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. Someone knew something. She was sure of it. Allie had to confide in someone. Probably Cherise, who was MIA. Damn it all to hell. If only—

Like a lightning bolt, inspiration hit.

Who would be Allie’s most likely confidante? Someone who knew her moods inside out, someone who had worked with her for years. A smile spread across Cassie’s face as she picked up the phone again, scrolled through the menu, and touched Laura Merrick’s name. There were several numbers listed, one being her personal cell, which Cassie had gotten from Allie. In her mind’s eye she conjured up Laura’s face. Sharp features, big eyes, smooth complexion, and someone who might just know something.

Laura the makeup artist.

Laura the hairdresser.

Laura who had been with Allie since her first role in Street Life.

Who else would Allie spend so much time with, be inclined to share secrets with? Cassie pressed the number and waited. One ring. Two. Three and then a real voice, not a recording.

“This is Laura.”

Thank God. “Hi. It’s Cassie,” she said, testing the waters.

No response.

“Cassie Kramer.”

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Another pause. “Yeah?”

Not exactly encouraging and Cassie didn’t want to take a chance that Laura would simply hang up on her if she started asking questions, so she said, “Look, I’m in town for a day or two and I was wondering if there was any chance you had room to squeeze me in for a haircut?”

Again the pregnant pause, then, “You want an appointment with me? And like immediately?”

“Well, yeah. That would be so great.”

“Well . . . you know, Cassie, I’m booked solid.”

“It’s . . . it’s just a quick trim. Really. I don’t need a shampoo or color or anything.”

“Today?” Laura actually laughed. “Seriously?” And then, before Cassie could respond, “You’re here? In LA? But I thought . . .” She let the sentence trail.

“I thought that you were in a psych ward somewhere.” That’s what she was about to say. Of course. “I just got back into town and I won’t be here long.” Cassie forced her voice to sound cheerful. “I knew it was a long shot, a really long shot, but I thought I’d call. Allie raves about you.” Cassie crossed her fingers, knowing she was playing on Laura’s relationship with her sister, but she didn’t feel bad about using every possible trick in the book. Laura, as Allie’s hair and makeup person, was likely to know more about Allie’s inner feelings than anyone. Sitting for hours in a chair while the stylist tended to you created a sense of intimacy. Secrets were often shared.

“Have you heard from her?” Laura asked.

“No. I . . . we don’t know anything.”

A long sigh. “Look, I’m not joking. I’m scheduled for like eternity. Most of the time I’m on a set somewhere. I’d like to help you out, but everyone who works in my salon is crazy busy.”

Cassie hid her disappointment. “The truth is I’d like to talk to you. About Allie.”

“You said you hadn’t heard from her.”

“That’s right, but I was hoping you might know something.”

“Sorry. I don’t know what happened to her. It’s weird, y’know?” There was another pause, then Laura said, “Look, Cassie, tell ya what. I’ve got to run, but if anyone cancels with any of my hairdressers, they’re all spectacular, by the way, then I’ll text you, okay? We’ll work something out. Are you here for a while?”

“I was planning to leave in the morning.”

“You thought you could get in today? Just today?” Laura laughed again. “You don’t ask for much, do you? I’ll do what I can, but don’t hold your breath. As I said, on the off chance someone in the shop gets a cancellation, I’ll let you know. But you have to understand it’s really unlikely. Like probably not going to happen.” And then she was gone. Cassie stared at her phone and felt defeated. Laura wasn’t just Allie’s hair and makeup person, she had other big-name clients as well. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that Cassie could speak to her alone. Not that it really mattered, she thought, staring out the windshield. Hadn’t Laura just said she didn’t know anything?




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