Face of Danger Read Online Free Page B

headed for the set of
Jehovah’s Witness
, the legal thriller Cara was wrapping this week.
    The end-of-filming schedule was perfect, no doubt forced by the star herself, giving her the ability to disappear for a few weeks following the Academy Awards this coming weekend. Although all five of the nominated actresses had made public statements that they were not the least bit concerned about the folklore of a Red Carpet Killer orCurse, they’d all somehow managed to clear their calendars for the next six weeks.
    All five women had a life-or-death reason to not want that statuette on their mantel.
    Of course they wanted it, Vivi mused as she parked and followed the directions Bridget had given her to the set. Who wouldn’t want to achieve that pinnacle of success? But they also wanted to be safe, and live to enjoy it, which was why Vivi’s idea was such a good one.
    If Cara liked the body-double strategy, it could set up the Guardian Angelinos as one of the most sought-after security firms in the country. And, dream of dreams, if there really was a Red Carpet Killer and Vivi lured and caught him—bingo! They’d be made.
    Besides, Vivi’s investigator’s instinct told her there was no real threat, making the assignment easy money and a brilliant career move.
    Screw Lang and his pessimism. This was a risk, but as Uncle Nino would say, you can’t get the good fruit if you don’t go out on a limb. And he’d be right.
    Worse things had happened to Vivi, and she’d weathered them. Pretty much.
    She ran a hand over her smooth hair, purposely combed and gelled down into a tame style that went along with her simple skirt and jacket, both borrowed from her best friend Sam, the woman who someday soon would be marrying her brother, Zach.
    Vivi scanned the lot, passing the commissary and turning a corner that opened up to several large white buildings, each marked with studio numbers. People milled about, a few on foot, some on golf carts, the pavement warm from the California sun under the soles of Vivi’sbrand-new and horrifically uncomfortable high-heeled shoes. She spotted her makeup artist contact striding toward her, all long skinny legs in pencil jeans and flying platinum hair.
    Bridget looked more like a movie star than some of the real stars, but, then, so did damn near every woman in Los Angeles.
    Lang would love it here in the land of milk and honeys.
    “Hey,” Bridget called as she approached, not slowed by even higher heels. “Sorry, I was stuck on the set.”
    When they reached each other, Bridget gave Vivi air-kisses on both cheeks, then leaned back, assessing Vivi.
    “Good look for you,” she said, all professional and serious. “But we’re going with Plan A. We really have to blow Cara away.”
    “I’m ready,” Vivi assured her.
    “So am I. She’s doing a scene that will definitely go ten takes, on an inside set, so we have an hour. Let’s go clear her trailer and get it done.”
    “Have you told her anything?” Vivi asked.
    “Just that I have a solution and asked her to consider it, no matter how off the wall. Beyond that, I think it’s better if she sees you exactly as we planned: in full Cara costume.”
    The “trailer” was hardly a doublewide. Set off from the rest of a row of motor homes along the side of a long parking lot, Cara’s “dressing room” stood two stories high and at least seventy feet long. A husky guard lingered outside the entrance but said nothing as Bridget and Vivi breezed by him.
    Sloppy, Vivi thought. If he worked for the Guardian Angelinos, he’d have asked for ID.
    Inside the trailer, it was as bright as sunshine with shades of yellow on every wall, floor, and seat. Classical music played from invisible speakers, the notes competing with the high-pitched yelp of a dog. A copper-colored dachshund leaped off a leather sofa and launched at Vivi’s feet, barking, panting, and circling her with suspicious dark eyes and the strangest hint of a limp.
    “Stella!”