"What happened?"
"Fashion Week.Her second year in the industry.She was walking a show—a big one, career-making, the kind of opportunity most girls would kill for.And she just...stopped.In the middle of the runway, in front of hundreds of people—buyers, press, photographers.She stopped walking and started crying.Couldn't move, couldn't speak, and couldn’t respond to anything.Security had to physically carry her off the runway while everyone watched."Vanessa closed her eyes, as if she could still see it happening."It was everywhere for about a day.Then the next scandal came along and everyone forgot about her.But her career was over.No one would touch her after that."
"And she was hospitalized?"
"Six months in a psychiatric facility.Complete breakdown—depression, anxiety, some kind of attachment disorder, I don't know all the clinical terms.When she got out, she had nothing.Her career was destroyed, her savings were gone, and her family—" Vanessa shook her head."They'd already written her off when she left Nebraska.They weren't interested in helping her put her life back together."
"So she came to you."
"I felt responsible.I was the one who brought her here, who convinced her she could make it, who painted pictures of fame and success that she wasn't equipped to handle.When she showed up at my office, begging for any kind of work, I couldn't turn her away."Vanessa looked up at Kari, her eyes glistening."I gave her a job as my assistant.Let her start over with a new name, a new identity.And she was good at it.Really good.She understood what the girls were going through because she'd been through it herself.She connected with them, supported them, became like a mother figure to so many of them."
"What was her name?"Kari asked."Her real name, before she changed it?"
Vanessa hesitated, years of loyalty and secrecy warring with the horror of what Kari was suggesting."I shouldn't—"
"People are dying.Tayen Chee has been missing for days and may already be dead.Every minute we waste is another minute Diana has to cover her tracks.What was her name?"
"Corinne," Vanessa said finally, the word coming out like a confession."Corinne Lindquist.From Millbrook, Nebraska."
Kari felt the final piece click into place with an almost audible snap.Diana was close to all the victims—she'd been their confidant, their support system, their "Mama."Diana was the "work mom" Jennifer's mother had described, the mentor who was "like a big sister."Diana—Corinne—had pointed Kari toward Pemberton to throw her off the trail, had expressed concern, and offered information designed to send the investigation in the wrong direction.
And Diana had a history of mental instability, of being unable to cope with rejection, of breaking down when things didn't go the way she expected.
The caring mentor who couldn't let go when her protégées tried to leave.The surrogate mother who couldn't accept that her "daughters" might want to live their own lives, make their own choices, form relationships that didn't include her.
"Where does Diana live?"Kari asked.
"She has an apartment in Koreatown.I can give you the address."Vanessa was already reaching for her computer."But if she called in sick, if she's not answering her phone—"
"Give me everything you have.Apartment address, emergency contacts, anywhere else she might go.It might just be a matter of life and death."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Kari called Carter from the car as she navigated L.A.traffic with one hand and held her phone with the other.She barely waited for the detective to answer before launching into everything she'd learned—the words tumbling out in a rush, the connections she'd made, the terrible picture that was finally coming into focus.
"Mama," she said."The models call her Mama.That's what M stands for.Not a man's name, not Pemberton's middle name—it was Diana all along.She's been killing girls who try to leave her, who try to establish boundaries, who don't need her anymore.And she pointed us toward Pemberton to throw us off the trail."
"Holy shit."Carter's voice was sharp with the particular anger of a cop who'd been played."She sat right across from you at that café and fed you a line about Pemberton while Tayen was probably already tied up somewhere."
"She knew I was getting close.The conversation spooked her—that's why she called in sick today, why she's not answering her phone.She's running."
"Or she's cleaning up loose ends."Carter's tone made the implication clear."If Tayen's still alive—"
"We need to move fast.I'm heading to her apartment in Koreatown now."
"I'll meet you there.Twenty minutes.And Blackhorse—don't go in alone.If this woman has killed five people, she's got nothing to lose."
Kari agreed, though she wasn't sure she meant it.How was she supposed to sit around and wait, knowing Tayen might still be alive and in danger?
Diana's apartment building was a nondescript mid-rise in a working-class neighborhood, the kind of place where aspiring artists and recent immigrants lived while they scraped together rent.The building's best days were behind it—paint peeling near the entrance, a few cracked windows, a few missing bricks.Kari found a parking spot on the street and sat watching the building, looking for any sign of movement in the third-floor windows that Vanessa had identified as Diana's.
Nothing.The windows were dark, the blinds drawn.If Diana was home, she wasn't showing any signs of life.
Carter arrived fifteen minutes later, pulling up behind Kari's rental car with a screech of brakes.They approached the building together, badges ready, and convinced the building manager—a tired-looking woman in her sixties—to let them into Diana's third-floor unit.
"She in some kind of trouble?"the manager asked as she led them up the stairs."Always seemed like a nice girl.Quiet.Paid her rent on time."
"We just need to ask her some questions," Carter said, her hand resting on her weapon.
