“I guess you’d know,” Ellis said, taking a bite of pancake.
Grey sat with it, reeling. “This is actually real,” she said slowly, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. Yes, she still needed to read everything she could about Scout’s dead sister, but this cemented it: There was a killer in Hollywood hunting high-profile harmers ofwomen, a killer somehow connected to a pop musician, if not that musician herself. Ellis’s wild theory was right, and now the two of them were sitting on a ticking time bomb. When the story broke, people would lose their minds. There would be no stopping the flood of attention. The whole world would tune in.
For the first time, Grey realized the magnitude of what she was bringing on herself. Soon she would be scrutinized more closely than she’d been since first joining the LAPD. Grey liked her job—the puzzle of it, acting as the arm of justice for people who’d been wronged—but that didn’t change the fact that she’d become a cop for one single, terrible reason. And if she was going to continue to pursue her mission—if she was going to solve a case her colleagues had left cold and redeem a man they’d kicked to the curb, maybe even stab a knife into the heart of the LAPD—the very last thing she needed was the whole world watching.
Grey didn’t oftenventure into the break room when the other detectives gathered to shoot the shit, but two days later, she found herself standing among her colleagues, listening to Detective Mogren tease Fasiano about a robbery case that involved the theft of thousands of dollars’ worth of sex toys from an adult shop on Sunset.
“And what happened once Fozzy heard the owner was giving out a hundred bucks’ worth of toys to anyone who could bring him a tip?” Mogren was in his element, gesticulating wildly. “Holloway, back me up.”
“It was the fastest I’ve ever seen him move,” Grey confirmed, to a chorus of howls.
Fasiano turned beet red. Grey had to admit, the other detectives were being kinder these days, as if her partnership with a veteran like Ellis had reminded them she was in fact a real cop.
But just as Fasiano started to defend himself, Captain Xie’s assistant burst into the room. “Holloway,” she barked. “Captain needs you. We got a 911 call from Scout Sage’s address.”
Everyone shut up fast. “Her address?” Grey asked dumbly.
“The pop singer?” Mogren scratched his head.
“Follow me. And hurry.” The captain’s assistant backed out of theroom, and Grey had no choice but to follow. She heard the detectives explode into speculation as soon as she ran out.
“What’s going on?” This didn’t make sense—neither she nor Ellis had tipped off anyone to the fact that they were investigating Scout. “Why does the captain want me?”
“Scout’s head of security called, claiming a woman was stalking the perimeter, attempting to break in. When he confronted her, she waved a gun and said she was a cop.”
Grey stopped in her tracks. Her heart plummeted.
The assistant stopped, too, and threw her a pitying look. “About five-four, short brown hair, curses in Spanish. Sound like anyone you know?”
Shit.
“You’d better rush,” the assistant said. “The captain’s already there.”
Grey’s cruiser chargedaround a bend in the mountain and came to a screeching halt outside a vine-covered privacy gate. Four police SUVs blocked the road, lights flashing blue and red, and a group of cops surrounded a tall, muscular man in a black suit and headset. Captain Xie was among them, his medal-adorned uniform glinting in the sun, and two additional cops searched Ellis’s station wagon. Next to Xie stood Ellis herself, in plain clothes, her hands wrested behind her back. They’d put her in cuffs.
“Jesus, Ellis,” Grey whispered. “What did you do?” She threw her car into park and leapt out. She’d never been so close to having a panic attack.
Captain Xie turned and spotted her. “Holloway! Get over here.”
“Grey!” Ellis’s eyes lit up. “Thank god. Tell them it’s okay.”
“This is Mr. Faust.” Captain Xie gestured to the brawny man in the black suit. “Head of Ms. Sage’s security team. He says he caught your partner on camera scaling the gate and making her way to one of the windows in the back of the home, where she attempted to gain access.”
Grey couldn’t help it—she turned to Ellis in horror. The minute she did, Ellis started pulling at her restraints, trying to wrench her arms from the officers who held her. “Tell them, Grey! Tell them Scout’s a murderer and we’re close to pinning her.”
“Ellis—” Grey’s voice was thick with disbelief. “Why would you do this?”
“We needed physical evidence,” Ellis insisted. “You said so yourself. If I could’ve gotten in her house, I would’ve found what we needed, I know it.” Ellis had that fervent look in her eyes. And… oh god—how had Grey ever looked at that expression and not seen it for what it was?
Obsession.
“Holloway, I need you to tell me what’s going on.” Captain Xie was a short, slender man with calm, dark eyes who rarely appeared ruffled. So when he did, it was frightening. “Did you sanction an investigation into Scout Sage?”
It wasn’t only the captain waiting for her answer. Scout’s head of security and the cops surrounding Ellis watched. The weight of their scrutiny was nearly suffocating. Grey longed to deny it, but she wasn’t a coward. She swallowed her panic and forced herself to answer. “Yes, sir. I did.”
Captain Xie threw up his hands. “Christ, Holloway. You’re supposed to be my ringer.”
“Sir, I thought there was solid evidence connecting some of Scout’s associates to Drake’s murder—”
