The Detective & the Pipe Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

right?
    “When she feels like working we do.” He laughed. I had no idea why.
    “I have her down to be at an audition here at Dowd and she’s not showing up.”
    “Hmm,” he said. “She has an audition today. But not at Dowd. The only reason I know that offhand is she hasn’t been going out much lately, and she is today. I guess it’s possible she double-booked. Hmm. When it rains it pours. With most of Karen’s clients, I’d know what’s up, but with Suzanne you never know. She meets people, gets called in, and doesn’t tell us. Let me look here . . .”
    Typing. Shuffling. Hmm-ing. “I don’t see anything. What’s it for?”
    I said, “Film. Indie. It’s called . . . Cobalt .”
    Cobalt? Nice bullshitting, Darvelle. What are you going to tell him next? There’s this hot new movie coming up called LeSabre ? A terrific new film with the intoxicating title of Oldsmobile Cutlass Cierra ? Dammit.
    The assistant didn’t see a problem with the title. He said, “Hmm. Well, she’s supposed to be at Raleigh in Hollywood right about now. Or a little while ago. She may have left already. I just don’t see anything about an audition at Dowd.”
    “Okay. Well, maybe her audition today is for a national commercial or something. Those can happen out of nowhere. And I guess make you forget about your indie audition.”
    “No, it’s for a studio movie called Friendship .”
    He paused again. Then: “Let’s see. I can’t give you her number. I can call her, but . . .” He laughed again. “That doesn’t always do much good with Suzanne. What is your name, by the way?”
    I had what I needed. Time to get off the call.
    “Hello,” I said. “Did I lose you?”
    I know. Not that original. But it works.
    “No, I’m right here,” I heard the assistant say clearly.
    “Shit,” I said.
    Now to an imaginary person in the room: “Think I lost the agent’s assistant. She’s over at Raleigh. Going to give them a call and see if she can come over after her audition . . .”
    Click.
     
    Raleigh Studios in Hollywood. A bunch of soundstages and casting rooms. You had TV shows and movies being filmed on part of the lot. You had TV shows and movies being cast on other parts of the lot. And you had commercials happening too. There were plenty of people kicking around hoping and praying and sometimes begging for their first break—getting the lead in a diaper commercial.
    Like all studios these days, there was a security gate and a puffed-up security guard monitoring it. I couldn’t think of anything to say to the guy, so I didn’t turn in, I just drove right past. I think I might have even been whistling as I drove by to appear casual and not at all interested in entering the studio’s lot. I took a right at the first block past the lot and parked in a little residential area that bordered the studio. I walked over to the back wall of the studio, perpendicular to the security gate, and climbed up a jacaranda tree that hugged the wall.
    Side note: Jacaranda trees. Cool.
    I exited the jacaranda and hopped onto the top of the wall. Then: Down on to the ground on the other side. I was in. Amazing security. Jeez. I hope someone doesn’t want to show up on the set of some random sitcom one day and spray gunfire. It would be too easy.
    I was in the parking lot now, the security entrance that I had bypassed over to the right. Big warehouse-y stages to the left, production bungalows and casting offices up ahead. I walked up to one of the little gray bungalows, opened the door, and walked in. There was a receptionist there. Fifty maybe. Attractive, but a little rough. Look in her eye that said: I’ve seen it all, babe. Hollywood glamour. Broken promises. Heartbreak. With a dash of: And by the way, don’t fuck with me.
    I said, “I’m here for the Friendship audition.”
    And then I thought: What if today’s auditions are only for women? Shit, Darvelle, this isn’t your best day.
    She said, “Your