"Yeah, but we're wrapping up for the day soon. I'm just shooting our last scene in a couple of minutes. Why?"
"There's someone on the lot I wanted to talk to." I quickly filled her in on Fernando's plight, Marco and me crashing Tina's interview, and my subsequent chat with Ramirez. "It actually sounds like Tina could be right. That Doggy Z was murdered," I finished.
"Whoa," Dana said, appropriately floored by that revelation. "But not by a contestant, right?"
"I doubt it." I shook my head even though she couldn't see me. "Angela and Fernando were the only contestants on the set that day, and I don't see Angela killing Dog just to win. But we did see Dog argue with Rupert Blick just before the taping started."
Dana sucked in a breath. "That's right! Rupert seemed to yell at him at the break too. When Dog threw the buzzer into the audience." She paused. "You think he had something to do with Dog's death?"
"I think I'd like to talk to him before I hand Tina her homicide story. At least it would give her some other avenues for her story that don't lead to Fernando. Any chance we could get in to see him today?"
"Maybe. I think he has an office in the Bob Hope building. I could call a guest pass to the front gate for you if you want to meet me here in, like, an hour?"
"Sounds perfect."
Gunshots fired in the background. "Sorry, I've gotta go," Dana said. "Charlotte Benson's about to take down an entire Mafia group in a shootout."
"They're not actually letting you fire a gun, are they?"
"Just blanks," she said. Then added, "I'm pretty sure."
CHAPTER SIX
An hour later, I'd given my name to the sentry at the front gates to the studio lot and was directed to park in a structure to the right of the sound stages. By the time I walked to the Charlotte's Angels set, I spied Dana in a red latex jumpsuit talking to a couple of guys in pinstriped suits holding fake (one could hope) machine guns. As soon as she spotted me, she waved me over.
"Hey! We just wrapped. Good timing." She waved goodbye to the guys in suits as they headed to the prop trailer.
"Nice outfit," I said, listening to her squeak as she walked.
"I'm roasting. I need to peel this thing off," Dana said.
"Sounds like it could take a while. It looks pretty tight."
"You're telling me! I had to baby powder my thighs just to get into this thing. I swear if I gain a pound it won't fit."
"Luckily you'll probably sweat it right off the next day," I said, looking on the bright side.
She chuckled. "Gimme ten minutes," she said, disappearing into the trailer.
A few minutes later she emerged wearing street clothes—white shorts, a baby blue tank top, and a pair of espadrilles on her feet. "Ready?" she asked, slinging a tote bag onto her shoulder.
I nodded. "So how well do you know Rupert Blick?" I asked as she led the way toward the Bob Hope building.
She shook her head as she pulled a water bottle from her bag. "Not well at all, to be honest. I mean, everyone on the lot knows his name, but I think he's only been by the set once. To wish everyone good luck when we started filming."
"You think he'll talk to us?"
Dana shrugged. "Maybe?"
We opened the double glass doors of the executive's building to a large lobby decorated tastefully but simply with muted colors of grey and purple. One wall consisted of three television sets that were all currently tuned in to today's episode of All My Husbands. There was a closeup of Angela arguing with a blonde in a nurse's outfit.
I turned away from the TVs to find a woman with short salt and pepper colored hair seated behind the front receptionist counter, a headset on. She gave Dana a perfunctory smile.
"Good afternoon, how can I help you?"
"I'm Dana Dashel," my friend offered. "I'm shooting the Charlotte's Angels pilot in studio thirty-three."
The woman maintained her pleasant smile, though no sign of recognition crossed her features.
"I was hoping to speak to Mr. Blick?" Dana went on.
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked.
"Uh, no."
"One moment please while I call up to his office," the woman said, pushing a couple of buttons on her computer before she quietly spoke into her headset mic. After a brief conversation she turned back to face us. "I'm so sorry, but Mr. Blick's assistant says he's unavailable this afternoon."
"All afternoon?" I pressed.
The woman nodded. "I'm sorry, but he's had a lot going on today. Damage control." She licked her lips. "You might have heard about Doggy Z."
Dana and I both nodded, trying to look appropriately solemn. "I was so sorry to hear of his passing," Dana said.
"Yes, well, Mr. Blick's been rather busy fending off the media. We all have, truth be told."
"Have you had a lot of press calling?" I asked, thinking of Tina.
She paused as if not sure how much to share. But considering we were industry people—or at least Dana was—she nodded. "We have. They've been relentless. As if we have any more details than they do about what happened." She shook her head. "So tragic."
"Do you know when Mr. Blick might be available?" Dana asked.
The woman pulled her pleasant smile back out. "No, I'm sorry, I don't. Is there a message you'd like to leave for him?"
"Yes," Dana said. "If he could call me at his convenience, that would be wonderful." She recited her phone number.
The receptionist nodded, typing it in on her keyboard. "And may I tell him what this is regarding?"
Dana shot me a look. "Uh, I have a few concerns about the pilot that I'd like to discuss."
The woman typed it out, seemingly disinterested in the details. Good for us, since there weren't any. "I'll make sure he gets your message, Ms. Dashel."
"Thanks," Dana told her as we turned to go.
We pushed outside into the sunshine again, and I immediately shielded my eyes from the bright afternoon glare off the white stucco buildings.
"So what are you going to tell Tina?" Dana asked as we backtracked through the lot toward the parking structure.
I shook my head. "I don't know. I suppose I could still float her the idea that Rupert Blick had a beef with Dog, but it would have been nice to have something a little more concrete to shove her in that direction."
Dana shot me a grin. "You just like the idea of shoving Tina, don't you?"
I laughed. "I don't hate it."
We were almost to the parking structure when I spotted a pink Jaguar pull into a reserved spot up front. An older woman got out of the car, and as she turned toward us, I recognized her immediately. I grabbed Dana's arm. "Hey, is that who I think it is?"
Dana shielded her eyes against the sun. "Looks like Aunty Mae." She shot me a meaningful look. "Dog's costar."
We watched Mae stuff something into her purse and beep her car locked before she headed in our direction. She was wearing a long, floral printed dress in a soft rose color that billowed around her stout frame. It fell just above her ankles and was paired with frilly white socks and canvas sneakers. A bright pink flower was tucked into the side of her hair, which, as she got closer, I could see was shot through with silver highlights.