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persons report on Sierra?”
    “You’ve already replaced her?”
    “I waited two days, but I had to move forward. Too many people are working on this show, which is costing me a fortune.”
    “Could she have just taken off?” Malcolm asked.
    “Sierra is temperamental, a bitch, demanding, but she never misses play practice or photo calls. She’s too vain and too ambitious.”
    “What about a man or drugs?” Garrison asked.
    “Doubtful. I mean she’s been through her share of men. But nothing stood between her and the stage. She loved it. And she never did drugs.”
    “Was she angry about something? Did you two have a fight?”
    “Her last day here we got into it about the lighting. The new public relations manager commented that the lighting looked hot, and then Sierra got all worried thatshe’d start to sweat on stage, and her audience would see it.”
    “It was a big fight?”
    “We yelled. And we called each other a few choice names. But that’s how we do things. When I call her a bitch it’s only in the nicest way.”
    “So she left angry,” Malcolm said. “She’s not hiding out somewhere and cooling her heels just to make you sweat?”
    “She better not be. Or I just might strangle her with my own two hands.” Burgess delivered the line with enough flourish to undercut the words’ meaning. He sounded like an actor on stage.
    Malcolm raised a brow. “Why’s that?”
    “I chose this play for the season because she agreed to do it. Sierra was the perfect Katherine. She was made for the part, and I was hoping for great reviews. Now she’s gone.”
    “Do you have a picture of Ms. Day?”
    He nodded and reached into an A&A Printing box. “Just delivered. Now we’ll need to print a correction.” Inside were Playbills for
The Taming of the Shrew
. Burgess flipped to page three and showed them the picture of a bright-eyed blonde with a smile that would make any man stop and notice.
    Malcolm didn’t know if this woman was his victim. But it sickened him to think someone so young and vibrant had been stripped of her identity.
    “Have you found Sierra or not?” Terry asked.
    “We’ve found a body,” Malcolm said, choosing his words carefully. “But we’ve not made an identification.”
    Terry’s face paled. “You can’t compare the picture to the body?”
    “Not in this case.” And without giving too many details he added, “The killer didn’t leave us much.”
    Burgess looked sick. “How did she die?”
    “Can’t say. Right now we are just trying to determine our victim’s identity. Sierra Day’s missing persons report matches what we know about our victim. Is there anyone who would want to hurt Sierra?”
    “The better question is who didn’t.”
    Malcolm raised a brow and pulled out a notebook. “Start at the top of the list.”
    Terry glanced down at Malcolm’s pen poised to write on his notepad. “Hey, and when I said I could kill Sierra, I didn’t mean in the literal sense.”
    “Duly noted,” Malcolm said. “Who hated Sierra?”
    “Her soon-to-be ex-husband for one. His name is Brian Humphrey, and he acts in plays here from time to time. He was never as good an actor as Sierra, and I think that didn’t help their marriage. And then toss in the fact that Sierra is a bit of a whore, and well, you get my point.”
    “Sierra slept around?”
    “According to Brian she started an affair with another actor here two months after they got back from their honeymoon.”
    Garrison raised a brow. “Two months. Who was the guy?”
    “I don’t know. You’d have to ask Brian. But I can tell you that Brian was one angry dude. He came by the theater several times during rehearsal, and he and Sierra got into some knock-down, drag out fights. The last time she slapped him.”
    “When was that?” Kier asked.
    “Three weeks, give or take.”
    “What can you tell me about Sierra?”
    “She was stunning and very talented. She could slip into a role like you or I put on a coat.