Keeper of the Shadows - By Alexandra Sokoloff Page 0,16
from Tony Brandt that they both died of overdoses of a drug cocktail that sounds really Other: heavy on the belladonna.”
“But what does all this have to do with Otherworld?” Rhiannon asked practically.
“I don’t know yet, but I’m thinking the movie has to have something to do with my cases.”
“But only Tiger is your case,” Sailor worried. “Mayo wasn’t an Other.”
Barrie felt her defenses going up. “No, he wasn’t, but his death is related. I can’t investigate Tiger’s death without investigating Mayo’s.”
Now both her cousins looked concerned. “You need to be really careful about this, hon,” Rhiannon said. “There’s going to be a lot of heat on the Mayo investigation.”
“But no one else knows the two are related, and I’m going to keep it that way,” Barrie answered stubbornly. “And don’t worry,” she said before Rhiannon could object. “I’ll talk to Brodie first thing.”
Rhiannon’s fiancé wasn’t only a homicide detective with the elite LAPD Robbery Homicide division, he was an Elven.
Like Brandt and the other Others who worked in law enforcement and criminal justice, Brodie subtly used his position to get assigned to Other-related cases, to ensure that the existence of the Others was kept secret. And now Barrie had a feeling her soon-to-be familial connection to Brodie was going to come in very handy.
Rhiannon looked somewhat mollified. “Well...as long as you’re careful.”
“What’s up next?” Sailor asked.
“I’m going to find out everything I can about Johnny Love and Mayo and the movie.”
And she knew exactly who she needed to see to get the inside scoop.
Chapter 5
Barrie showered and dressed and fed the cat, then headed down the canyon to the flatlands, the Fairfax District where NBS, one of the major television networks, had its soundstages.
On the way she listened to the news on the radio to see how Mayo’s death was being reported. The mainstream media was being incredibly tactful, as they always were with celebrity deaths, not speculating on the manner of death; the official word was that he had “collapsed” in his bungalow at the Chateau. She would have to check the Net for the more fringe theories.
As usual the NBS parking lot was jammed with busloads of tourists there to see the tapings of various television shows. Barrie had never seen the appeal of tapings, she found them incredibly boring herself, but she knew NBS’s most popular reality show, That’s Dancing! was filming today, and that would be where she could find Harvey Hodge.
Harvey was NBS’s self-proclaimed “Entertainment Connection,” the on-camera entertainment reporter for NBS News. H.H., as he was known, was a shifter who always had all the best Hollywood gossip because he could literally be a fly on the wall and pick up any dirt that was to be had on anyone.
And Barrie knew that Harvey never missed a taping of That’s Dancing!
Harvey was a handful, but Barrie had taken great pains to cultivate him as a source. Luckily being a Keeper was its own modest form of fame, and she was able to use that to her advantage. She’d sussed out Harvey’s great weakness: he wanted to be as much of a celebrity as the stars he reported on, and she knew how to play the starstruck kid. It was a lot of work, but she could usually wheedle and flatter Harvey into talking to her, and he really did know everything about every Other in show business.
The tough part would be making it onto the set of That’s Dancing! The show was down to the last few episodes, with just four couples left, and it seemed from the lines that every dance fan in the world was trying to crash the gate.
The guard was militantly checking soundstage passes, so Barrie called up what she could vaguely remember about one of the contestants and glamoured her way by him in a swish of tulle and sequins. The effort left her gasping for breath on the other side, but at least she was in.
She found Harvey in the press pit, a corner of the soundstage draped with curtains for reporters to conduct their interviews and film their stand-ups.
He was in a foul mood. “Weres are beastly dancers,” he complained without even bothering to say hello as Barrie approached him. “I don’t know why they ever let them on to begin with.”
“So, who’s going to win it?” she asked, feigning interest.
“How would I know?” he said coyly.
“Oh, come on, H.H.,” she coaxed. “If not you, who?”