Page 27 of Scripted for Love and Poison (Sol and Luke Mystery #2)
Convenient. Also, that wasn’t exactly what Victor Lago had said, not recalling when they’d first started talking, but Luke still wanted to ask about something else. Someone else.
“And are you sure you don’t know who Simon Smith is?”
“The name sounds familiar.” Victor pointed upward, making a circular motion with his finger. “But nothing more than that.”
“We also talked about him during the interview,” Sol told him.
“The only thing I remember about our interview is you, darling.” Victor was clearly making Sol uncomfortable. Luke had always considered himself patient and calm, but the director was irritating him to no limit.
“So you don’t know the man who wrote the review that destroyed your movie?” Luke said, and again , he knew he was approaching the conversation the wrong way. And yet he couldn’t stop himself from antagonizing Victor Lago.
“My movie is not destroyed ,” Victor said. His words came out strained, and Luke felt the thrill of victory. He’d finally managed to aggravate the filmmaker as much as Victor Lago was aggravating Luke.
“What Luke meant to say is that Simon Smith was one of the really small group of journalists who had access to Haughty Horizons when no one else had,” Sol said .
“As I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, the PR team takes care of that sort of stuff,” Victor said, as if promoting a movie was a dirty business beneath him. “But perhaps you should talk to Claudia.”
“Claudia?” Sol said.
“Claudia Hopkins. I think she did some freelance media consulting for the movie. She advised the team on how to promote it. Not that it had any positive outcome.” Victor chuckled.
“If you’ll excuse me now, my glass is empty, I need a refill.
And I’m really bored with this conversation.
” With that, he made exaggerated gestures to get the barman’s attention.
···
“That man is a consummate liar,” Sol told Luke ten minutes later when they were both snugly seated in a more secluded part of the Roosevelt, going over everything Victor Lago had told them.
“He pretended he didn’t know anything about things I’d already told him or asked him about in our interview. He told me he never forgot a face.”
“Either he was lying to you then or he was lying to me now. But he clearly was lying to someone,” said Luke. “Abbie said he hated Simon Smith. Yet he’s feigned indifference and even ignorance when we’ve both asked about the critic.”
“You think he did it?” Sol asked him. “All of it?”
“I think I don’t like him one bit.”
“Yeah, but is it because he’s a potential killer or because you didn’t appreciate how he checked me out?”
“Both,” declared Luke.
“I have to say, I’ve never been into the whole possessive alpha thing,” Sol said, moving her hand in a wide circle in front of his chest, “but it’s sort of—perhaps—mildly turning me on.”
“Mildly?” Luke arched one of his eyebrows.
“Considerably.” Her lips parted, and she inched toward him. Her eyes were filled with desire. And that would have been the perfect moment and almost the perfect place for a kiss.
But it wasn’t.
“Look at you, all cozy in a private corner. Am I interrupting something?” Claudia’s voice filled the space.
This fucking city. Never a bloody moment alone.
“Not really,” Sol said, although he could see that she was as disappointed as he was. “We actually wanted to talk to you.”
“Really?” Claudia said. “I’d have said you’ve been avoiding me for the past week, and now you—and the beau—want to talk to me?”
“We just wanted to ask you about something Victor Lago mentioned,” Sol started tentatively. “He said you advised on reaching out to Simon Smith to review Haughty Horizons ? And that you did some freelance media consulting for the movie?”
Claudia’s complacent features faltered for the briefest of instants, but the editor efficiently pulled her facade back on.
“You know as well as I do that would be a conflict of interest, as my employment as an executive editor at Performance Weekly prevents me from getting paid by movie studios. My objectivity as a journalist could be perceived as breached,” Claudia said.
“As a veteran journalist and a smart, old woman, I also know that this city is fucking expensive and some consulting jobs pay well,” Sol said, a pleasant manner never abandoning her demeanor .
“I can trust that you’ll be discreet,” Claudia continued.
“You know I am,” Sol said.
It looked like they were understanding each other, and Luke realized once again how much Sol helped him whenever she got involved in a case, interpreting the entertainment world for him. He still didn’t want her getting entangled, nonetheless.
“Oh, whatever!” Claudia finally gave up, and her manner relaxed.
She made Sol and Luke scooch over and sat next to them.
“I knew I should have said no, but can you blame me? There’s constant chatter about layoffs, and I can’t be sure I’ll have a job next week!
So I decided to make myself a bit more of a comfortable mattress to fall back on, just in case.
I watched Haughty Horizons , realized that it was a slog that was only going to attract a very annoying kind of straight man who thinks himself intellectual, and I advised on showing it to exactly that type of journalist. I even made a list for them. ”
“I’m sure it wasn’t a very difficult list to make,” Sol said, a smile tugging at her lips.
“It wasn’t. And yes, Simon I-think-Sofia-Coppola’s-movies-are-just-for-women Smith was at the top of it.”
“Would you mind sharing the list with us?” Luke asked the editor.
“If you promise discretion, and only because I can’t really say no to someone as pretty as you,” Claudia said.
“We won’t say a word, but Claudia, perhaps you should talk to Victor Lago. He’s drunk and doesn’t seem as devoted to secrecy as we are,” Sol said.
“Ugh!” Claudia sighed. “Let me go talk to that fucking haughty know-it-all.”
“Were you lucky? Did you get Ryan Gosling?” asked Luke before Claudia left. He was genuinely curious .
“I did. And not even Victor Lago is going to ruin my buzz,” said Claudia with the most triumphant of smiles.
“You think she told us the truth?” Luke asked as Claudia strutted back to the lobby of the Roosevelt in search of Victor Lago.
“I think if she was testy, it could be because she knows this information makes her vulnerable with her employer,” Sol said. “Does she make sense as the poisoner/killer?”
“I can’t see a motive,” Luke admitted. “But this case keeps getting more and more complicated. I don’t like it when things don’t make sense.”
“I would agree with you about the lack of motive, but I need to tell you something that may add to the pile of things that keep complicating your case—and perhaps throw some light about that motive.” Why did it sound like things were about to go sideways?
“I haven’t told you this before because, honestly, we haven’t had any time alone to talk.
The occasion didn’t arise. So don’t get even more mad at me. ”
“I’m not mad,” he said, but he kind of sounded like he was.
“The day I was talking to Jason and Emily about Simon, when I left, Emily gave me Simon’s manuscript,” Sol said.
She has the book written by one of the people whose disappearance I’m investigating, and she only thinks about telling me that now !
“I see,” he said, and he thought he was doing an excellent job at not losing his cool and sounding nonexasperated, which he was anything but. “And?”
“What do you mean and ?!” It was clear that if he was making an effort not to escalate that conversation and remain not mad with her, she was not extending him the same courtesy .
“I’m sorry. Is there anything in the book?” he asked, trying to sound as civil as possible, given the circumstances.
“I’ve just skimmed through it, but Simon talks about Claudia in the book, and her less ethical habits.”
“Like doing consulting jobs for studios even if she shouldn’t?”
“Yes. If that gets out, not only could she lose her job, but her reputation as an editor would be ruined,” Sol explained.
Claudia Hopkins was suddenly not only an extremely obnoxious editor with the ability of always importuning Luke, she had also found herself with motive for Simon Smith’s disappearance.
“Anything else you may want to share?” Luke asked.
“I haven’t had time to finish it yet!”
“Of course,” he said, and he sounded furious, even if he didn’t want to.
“I guess there went our two full hours of not being at each other’s throats.”
“Why don’t we make it three hours of truce while we drive to Los Feliz, and we can go back to rowing once we’re back in the discomfort of our old friend, the inflatable mattress,” Luke said. This time he did sound as conciliatory as he was attempting to be.
“The problem is that there we don’t argue,” Sol said, her tone defeated. “We simply fume at each other in silent frustration. Plus, driving back to Los Feliz should be a breeze from here, not a full whole hour!”
“You wish, cara, you wish.”