Damn, it’s back on. “Hold that thought.” The couch slides forward a little when I jump over the back and land cross-legged on the cushions. “I also think that Amy and Lauren are sleeping together. But Amy is engaged to Robert, who thinks she walks on water and can do no wrong. Spoiler alert: she’s trash.”
“Is there anyone honest on the show?”
“Ithinkthe store owner, Grant, is pretty okay?” Maybe. At this point I’m squinting suspiciously at everyone. No one is safe from my inquiring gaze. A detective would have a field day if this were real. I should ask Jericho if his guy, Quinn—a homicide detective with the NSWPD—has this kind of drama at work. We work in the shadows, but most of the time that means limited interaction with the population. That means no good juicy drama like this.
“He’s not having an affair with someone too?” Something clatters on the bench, and then so low I almost don’t hear it, Kendrick says, “I can’t believe I just asked that.”
He finally joins me on the couch, handing me a big steaming mug with four pink marshmallows melting on top. They look like regular marshmallows. “Mmm, thanks.” The second he lifts his arm, I’m snuggled against him, pulling a blanket up and over both of us. Curling my knees, I get as close as possible without accidentally spilling our drinks. He absently plays with my hair as we sit, and it’s hard to concentrate on anything else. Not even the fascinating drama of the show is enough to pull me away from how good it feels.
“Should you be wearing your glasses?” Kendrick murmurs.
“No, I’m not reading anything.” They’re on the bedside table, I think. With my book. Well, Kendrick’s book. I commandeered it, so he can’t read ahead of me.
“Why are you really watching the show?”
“I read an article today that says they’re replacing the actress this time, instead of writing the tragedy into the show.” As if it needs more. It’s the unluckiest suburb I’ve ever come across. If it were real, no one would want to live there.
“Makes sense, considering the backlash they faced with the first murder victim when they did that.”
The hot chocolate courses through me, warming me from the inside. I forgot to sniff test the marshmallows, but they taste good. Gooey pink deliciousness. Jericho’d be the first person to get this case if something happens to us, so I doubt he’ll be the nefarious villain in this play. He wouldn’t give himself more work on purpose. Extra,extrawork since he has to “solve” a crime he committed without letting anyone know he’s the killer. So many twists and turns, and he has better things to do with his time.
“The woman who’s replacing her looks enough like her to pass it off pretty well.”
“I don’t think ‘reality’ is what they’re going for on this show,” Kendrick says dryly. “Even if she was completely different, people would just go with it.”
I nudge him with my knee and smirk at him. He leans forward and puts his mug on the coffee table and then stretches my legs over his thighs, a hand moving to massage my foot. A moan slips out of me unbidden. Damn, that’s good.
“Careful,” Kendrick says with a chuckle, “you’re gonna spill your drink.”
What drink? “The woman who’s replacing her—”
“The doppelganger?”
An accurate description. Maybe she was the body double. Do they have those for shows like this? “Her name’s Melody Claret. She’s already started filming the new episodes. According to my research, they produce episodes six to eight weeks in advance, so I knew that Veronica would still be on the screen.” Which is where my rabbit-hole adventure started. The transition to a new actress will be interesting to see. A smooth drop from one episode to the next, or will they add some extra drama in there first? Who are the writers? Do they sit around a table, drunkor high, while they decide on the storylines or…?
“When did you find all this out?” Kendrick finds a particular spot on the curve of my foot, and I bite my lip, muscles twitching. Fucking hell, I can die happy right now.
It takes me a second to filter the question through and work out the correct answer. “This afternoon while I was with Greer. He was watching a place and needed a second set of eyes.”
“A second set of eyes looking at his phone?”
“We took turns.” Not that we got anything useful from the place we’d staked out. Whatever missing-persons shit he and Six are working on has been plaguing them for months, and they’re still knee-deep in the shit.
He tips my head up with a thumb under my chin and kisses me softly, with just enough pressure to warm me up better than any hot drink ever could. Our lips cling when he pulls away. “What else did you find?”
“Her father works for the studio. Doing camera work.”
“On that show?”
“And others.” Prolific, in a lot of ways. His name’s attached to a lot of titles. Overcompensating for something, probably. “He’s been there for a long time. Before the first victim started there. Celebrates a decade with them next year.”
“That’s interesting,” Kendrick muses.
Good for the guy but not interesting in terms of the case. “Explains how she got the opportunity. Nepotism and all that.”
“What did he do before that?”
“No idea.” He wasn’t interesting enough to deep dive. “I checked Melody’s social media, and as far as I can see, she and Veronica had a good relationship. Friendly. No skeletons in the closet I can find. I sent Six an email, for him to dig deeper in case I missed anything, but I doubt I did.” Social media can lie, but not where I look for it. The truth is easy to find if you know what to look for, and where to look. And can see through the filters and fake bullshit people put up to make their lives look more magical than they really are.
