Cat in a hot pink Pursuit

got here. Then why the detour to Manship’s office?”
    “He’d left a note from my suspect on his desk, asking him to see her.”
    “‘Your suspect?’ Miss Barr, I personally think you’re an okay person, and I get that my boss wanted you on this scene for reasons relating to her daughter. But you’ve been caught red-handed over a dead body. You see my position.”
    “Yup. You’re probably sitting on the exact place the body was laid before it was propped up in the chair.” Alch eyed the large ottoman, then sprang up. “You think she was killed elsewhere and brought here? But how? This place is crawling with cameras and antsy contestants. You couldn’t import a bedbug here without getting major notice.”
    “I don’t know.”
    “So. Are we to suspect you, or Manship?”
    “Good question. Since I’m a wild card here—”
    Alch snorted.
    “Probably Manship. He’s the Big Meanie on board. The note signed by her was left in his office, so he probably was there.”
    “So how did he waltz a dead body three hundred feet through corridors that might be highly populated any second?”
    “I don’t know. He’s Australian. They’re used to wrestling crocodiles.”
    “Okay. Tell me about the vie.”
    “Well, I think the vie was actually the perp.”
    “You’re kidding me, right?”
    Amazing, Temple thought, how talking the talk cut through the fog. Vic. Perp. That made the so-intensely-personal act of murder strangely impersonal.
    “Or one of them.”
    “Say you’re kidding me.”
    “I can’t. I do have a rationale for why I thought the perp who is now a vie became a perp.”
    “Rationale. Look, Miss Barr, the lieutenant told us about your pseudo-participation in this circus. We are inclined to overlook a great deal. But being found first on a murder scene is not one of the overlookable offenses.”
    “How many ‘offenses’ did Molina consider expected?” His expression tightened. “A few. Like breaking and entering on the first death scene. And bringing her daughter along.”
    “You guys have taken over the show’s secret recording duties.”
    “Dam right. Now. I’ll take you downtown so the lieutenant can debrief you.”
    “Mariah—”
    “Not to worry. Su’s with her.”
    For some reason, Temple felt usurped.
    “Why didn’t Molina use Su in the first place? Why drag me into it and then punish me for getting ahead of the curve?”
    “You’re a head of something, all right,” he said, gazing at her blindingly blond hair. Then he chuckled. “Don’t sweat it. Somehow I don’t see you as a candidate for stabbing someone through the heart.”
    “Was that the murder method?”
    Alch put a finger to his lips and mustache. “Not for publication.”
    So she was escorted out of the death scene, a defiant Xoe Chloe to the last. Everyone gathered around: herd of tittering blondes, glad to have Xoe off the show; Crawford Buchanan, hissing a blow-by-blow commentary into his live mike; her own aunt, looking aghast but keeping her lips zipped like a good actress; a subdued Dexter Manship; and Rafi Nadir, bringing up the rear to give her a thumbs up, her only supporter.
    Unless you counted Midnight Louie at the crowd’s very edge, backed up by a trio of hip kits, one silver, one golden, and one as black as Xoe Chloe’s hair used to be.
    Louie did not give her a thumbs up.
    But he did wink. Or blink. Whichever. He had a whisker’s chance in hell of helping her.

    “What did you think you were doing?”
    Molina didn’t waste words. Temple was in her office, which was a good sign. She doubted it was bugged but couldn’t be sure. After living in the Teen Queen Castle, she was fairly paranoid. Police had a license to be tricky.
    “I thought I’d lead Detective Alch to the person who’d killed Marjorie Klein.”
    “Oh, you led Alch to something, all right. Another murder. And what the hell is going on with my daughter? You were supposed to protect her. Instead, your pet sleazebag is running loose on the premises and a pretty prime suspect for any and all of this.”
    “I didn’t know Rafi would be there. Savannah Ashleigh hired him as a bodyguard. And Mariah’s fine. Neither of them has a clue as to who is who. You really pulled the wool over Rafi’s eyes. If he found out he had a kid, he’d probably stroke out and your problems would be over. In fact, that might be a nice sneaky way to get rid of him forever.”
    “I wouldn’t count on convenient acts of God to get you out