“I’ve heard the story,” she confirmed. “You can’t work Hollywood Station without hearing it. But I transferred from West L.A. five years ago and it didn’t happen on my watch or I’d know. So if it’s true, then it happened earlier than that. Why do you ask?”
“A girl driven to a nervous breakdown by a cruel actress is what I would call a person of interest,” Jessie mused before turning her attention back to Marin. “Do you know her name?”
“Petra Olivet,” Marin and Detective Bray said in unison.
“Detective,” Jessie asked, “could you check out her current status after you escort Mr. Marin out and ask Monica Twohy to join us?”
Bray nodded, standing up.
“That’s it?” Marin asked, pleasantly surprised.
“For now,” Trembley told him. “Don’t leave town.”
“Where am I gonna go?’ the guy asked, standing up and nearly skipping out of the room.
He was replaced a moment later by Monica Twohy, who looked far less relaxed than her predecessor.
“Have a seat, Monica,” Trembley said, making sure not to sound too intimidating to the young woman, who seemed to already be shaking slightly.
Jessie looked her over as she made her way to the chair. Small and frail looking with a mousy demeanor, she reminded Jessie slightly of Marcie, Peppermint Patty’s friend from the Peanuts cartoons. Likely in her early twenties, she had close-cropped dark hair, glasses, and wore a long-sleeved shirt and what appeared to be cargo pants. She looked terrified.
“How are you doing, Monica?” she asked, hoping that her calm tone would settle the girl’s nerves.
“I’ve been better,” Monica admitted.
“This has to have been a lot for you,” Jessie said sympathetically. “We appreciate you sharing what you know.”
“I already told your colleague,” she said, nodding at the door, where Karen Bray was softly talking into her phone, “I don’t know that much.”
“Well, here’s what we know. You can fill in any gaps we might have. You left around ten ten p.m. last night, correct?”
“Yes. I had to pick up a prescription.”
“But you came back,” Trembley said.
“Right. I was leaving the pharmacy when I realized I didn’t have my phone. I knew I must have left it somewhere on set. But I wasn’t sure where and I knew I wouldn’t get any sleep if I didn’t have it. I’m really dependent on it.”
“Aren’t we all?” Trembley said.
“Yeah, so I came back to look for it. I ran into Dave, the lighting tech who was just in here. He was prepping for a scene today. He called my phone to help me find it. We did. I said bye and left.”
“Did you see anyone else, either when you were returning to get your phone or when you were leaving?” Jessie asked.
“Sure,” Monica said. “There were a few people walking around the lot both when I came and left. I passed maybe a half dozen total. But I didn’t recognize anyone. To be honest, I wasn’t even really registering details. I was tired and just wanted to get home.”
“And you didn’t go to check on Corinne?”
“I passed by her trailer on the way to the stage. The lights were out so I assumed she’d left.”
“Can I ask you something, Monica?” Jessie said, leaning in.
“Of course.”
“I don’t want you to take this as some kind of accusation, all right. Did you like Corinne?”
Monica’s eyes darted back and forth between Jessie and Trembley. She seemed at a loss.
“Just be honest,” Jessie said. “We’ve already had people tell us they’re glad she’s dead. That doesn’t mean they did it. We’re just trying to get a sense of how the folks closest to her felt about her. Did you like her?”
“That would be going a little far,” she conceded. “Okay, that would be going a lot far. I respected what she’s accomplished. I admired her toughness, how she wouldn’t let herself get pushed around. But like her? I can’t truthfully say that.”
“Why not?” Jessie asked.
“She could be really mean. She seemed to enjoy poking people in their soft spots. Yes, she was incredibly selfish and vain, though in my experience as an assistant, that’s standard fare. But she was…cruel.”
That lingered in the air for several seconds before Jessie finally let her off the hook.
“Thank you for your honesty.”
Monica nodded silently.
“Are you willing to let us check your phone data, Monica?” Trembley asked.
“Whatever I can do to help,” she said.
He looked over at Jessie, who nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “That’ll be all for now. Thanks for your time.”