The years had not been kind to Ridley. Back when we’d first met him at Easton’s Christmas party, he’d been young and svelte, with maybe a touch of a tanning addiction. He used to be one of the most popular people at any party—everyone wanted to whisper with him, get their name on his blog. But the tide had turned. I wasn’t sure if people had lost their taste for gossip in general or lost their taste for his vicious brand of it, but either way, he’d become persona non grata in Hollywood, a tacky person to be avoided. The stress of falling from favor was visible in his lined face and too-thin frame.
“We obviously can’t meet somewhere like the Chateau,” Gia sniped. Unlike Ridley, Gia appeared frozen in time. She was elfin, with a dark pixie cut and huge, expressive brown eyes. “If anyone seesus with her”—she waved at Scout—“our careers are toast. Not that it’s really a problem for you. Can’t kill something that’s already dead.”
Ridley cocked his head. “I’m pretty sure you did that inUndead Reckoning: Part 2. Or was itZombie Apocalypse: Part 3? When your movies all have the same plot, how do you tell them apart?”
“Enough,” I said, taking a seat next to Scout. “Gia, if you’re so worried about being seen with us, why’d you even come?”
She blinked. “I’m trying to be a better person.”
Ridley snorted.
“No, I’m serious.” Gia directed her words to me and Scout. “You obviously called us here to talk about Easton’s Christmas party, right?”
At our surprised looks, she said, “It’s a pretty easy guess. Why else would you want me and Ridley? And, look, I’m not exactly proud of the person I was ten years ago. I wasn’t always…” She hesitated. “Kind. Especially to other women.”
“Meow.” Ridley clawed at her.
Gia ignored him. “I talked a lot of shit and sabotaged girls to get roles. I wasn’t exactly a girl’s girl, but I’m trying to evolve, okay? I mean, you guys get it. Ten years ago you were in that shitty sitcom, what was it called? Where you were cheerleader rivals to some shy bookworm? And that night at the party, I remember how much you made fun of that actress who got a butt lift. And now you’re like running this hot girl murder club. I figured I could make amends by helping you at your rock bottom.”
“Gee, thanks,” said Scout. “Thrilled to be your charity case.” The vulnerability of earlier was gone, her armor back in place. “You’re right, though. We do want to talk about Easton’s party. I assume you both know my sister died there.” No inflection. Businesslike.
They nodded, a little hesitantly, and she continued. “We heard you were some of the last people to see Alden that night. Can you tell us what you remember?”
Ridley and Gia exchanged glances.
“What?” Scout demanded.
“Well, we knew you’ve always blamed him,” Ridley said. “Your mind was made up. We figured you wouldn’t want to hear what we had to say.”
“Whatever it is, you can tell us,” I urged. “Please.”
A waiter came to take our drink orders, and Gia waved him off with a sweep of her hand. Apparently, evolving into a better person didn’t extend to waitstaff.
“It started when Ridley and I went to Easton’s kitchen to hunt for food,” she said.
“He never served gluten-free hors d’ouevres at his parties,” Ridley added. “It was really thoughtless.”
“We ran into Alden and your sister there,” Gia told Scout. “We heard her say she was sorry, but she had a boyfriend.”
“Classic brush-off,” added Ridley. “Poor guy looked miserable.”
“They spotted us,” Gia said, “and your sister looked embarrassed, but Alden was too upset to care. He kept demanding to know who she was dating, and she kept repeating that she couldn’t say.”
I frowned. “Couldn’tsay,” I clarified, “or wouldn’t?”
Gia and Ridley looked at each other. “Couldn’t,” Gia repeated. “I’m pretty sure it was couldn’t.”
Who would Georgia have dated whose name she couldn’t say—whose existence she would’ve hidden from even me and Scout? We’d teased her mercilessly about dating Alden behind our backs, and even though she’d denied it, she hadn’t said a peep about this other person.
“Alden got weepy,” Ridley said. “It made me feel bad. Trust me, I know a thing or two about pouring your heart out to someone who isn’t interested. I figured I’d protect him from himself and get him to bed.”
“Georgia thanked us for taking care of him,” said Gia. “I asked if she was going back to the party to find you, but she shook her head and said she was supposed to meet someone. She had this little smile.” Gia demonstrated, giving us a small, secretive twist of her lips. “Pretty obvious she meant her boyfriend.”
I turned to Scout. “So Georgia’s boyfriend was at the party.”
“She went out the little side door,” Ridley added.
“The side door,” Scout asked, “through the butler’s pantry? The door to the backyard?”
