Ignoring it, he looked at her and said, “Who was that? One of your sources?”
Trena drew her gaze toward his. “Seems a little young to be a source, don’t you think?”
“That depends. What were you discussing?”
“Babysitting tips.” Trena didn’t so much as blink.
Larsen regarded her closely. “Coulda swore I saw her hand you something.”
“Am I under surveillance?”
“Mind telling me what it was?”
“Sure, show me a search warrant and it’s all yours.” She knew Larsen liked to provoke, but she refused to play along. She turned on her heel, only to feel his fingers catching at her arm. Whirling on him in anger, she jerked free of his grip. “Pretty sure you don’t want to do that,” she said.
“Do what?” He flashed his palms and adopted an innocent expression.
“Get between me and my chai latte,” she spat. “Never mind that unwanted advance.”
“Advance?” He laughed. “That’s how you’re going to spin it?”
She folded her arms across her chest. It was entirely possible that at this moment she actually hated this man more than she’d ever hated anyone. Including her lying, cheating ex-fiancé Marcus. “Clearly this is not a random meet-cute.” She frowned. “So get to the point. What do you want?”
“I want to know how you knew about the trailer.”
Trena tilted her head in a way that sent a spray of curls spilling across her forehead. “And here I thought you were going to deliver my thank-you card in person. You know, the one that says, ‘Dear Ms. Moretti, thanks for doing my job for me.’” She was pushing it, but she was tired of the way he manipulated her into kowtowing to him.
“Question stands.” He kept a straight face.
“I did my homework.” She shrugged. “News flash—studying pays off.”
“What’d you take from the trailer?”
“Pretty sure you found the watch. If I was going to take anything, don’t you think it would’ve been that?”
“Just know I’m watching you.” He pointed a stubby freckled finger at her.
“You and the rest of the nation, every Sunday, eight p.m. sharp.” She forced her lips into a wide grin.
She wasn’t sure how he’d respond, but the way he rested his gaze on hers left her more chilled than any words could.
“Enjoy your chai.” He turned on his heel and went on his way. “Until we meet again,” he called over his shoulder.
Trena stared after him. Once he’d disappeared, she poked through the tissue and peeked inside the small package Lucky had given her. Sure enough, it was a single gold-and-turquoise hoop earring, just like the one in the video. Just like the one Madison wore on the night she’d gone missing.
Of course, there was little hope of proving it actually belonged to Madison. So many people had touched it, it was doubtful any good prints could be lifted. Still, Trena considered it one more piece in the puzzle. Besides, she knew in her gut it belonged to Madison, just like she knew the girl caught on video was Madison in disguise.
She was out there . . . somewhere.
Trena popped the package back in her bag and headed into Starbucks. She was due for a walk-through at RED for the feature she’d promised Ira. While she wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of promoting him, she knew that a favor granted was a favor banked. She just hoped it wouldn’t backfire like it just had with Larsen.
THIRTY-FOUR
HEART OF GLASS
Madison drove Tommy’s car to the coast, all the way to Santa Monica Beach, where she found a place to park and headed out toward the sand. She preferred Malibu, but it was too far a drive and she still had so many loose ends to attend to.
With her future looming uncertainly, she was desperately in need of some guidance. The calming rhythm of the waves with their continuous rush and retreat always helped to remind her just how small and insignificant she was in the big scheme of things.