“What the—?”
Layla didn’t even have a chance to finish the thought before the area suddenly flooded with light and a booming voice shouted, “Stop right there and put your hands in the air. One move and I’ll shoot.”
FORTY-SEVEN
DIRTY LAUNDRY
Trena Moretti settled into the makeup chair and closed her eyes as the stylist, Jasmine, fussed over her hair. There was something so relaxing about the ritual of being tended to. It reminded her of when she was a kid and Noni Moretti spent countless hours taming Trena’s wild mane into obedient rows of sleek, glossy braids.
“Do you think they did it?” Jasmine asked, to which Trena just shrugged.
Where she once would’ve sworn a definitive no, she was no longer sure.
Or maybe she no longer cared as much as she used to.
Leave it to the detectives to solve the mysteries.
She was being paid to report the story—and lately, she was being paid very well. While part of her job involved uncovering the truth, the way Trena saw it, no one was ever as innocent as they seemed—herself included.
It was the first day of filming her newly announced televised news show, In-Depth with Trena Moretti, and though she was plagued with the usual nervousness that came from being a perfectionist, she was mostly focused on how improbable such a moment might’ve seemed just a few months earlier, back when she’d first arrived in LA fresh from a devastating heartbreak and looking to rebuild her life.
Practically from the moment her plane had touched down at LAX, Trena’s star had taken off on the sort of awesome trajectory she never could’ve imagined, and she had Madison’s disappearance to thank.
Her interviews with both Ira and Aster, along with the connected stories she continued to break thanks to Detective Larsen, her source in the LAPD, Trena had become the face of authority on the one story that showed absolutely no sign of abating.
The longer it took to solve the mystery of Madison Brooks, the better it was for her.
It was job security—akin to having a good insurance policy.
“Did they ID the bones?”
Trena peeked an eye open and regarded Jasmine through the mirror. “They’re not Madison’s,” she said. “That’s all I can say for now.”
Jasmine nodded, though her lips jerked in a way that barely contained her excitement at being handed such a juicy piece of insider gossip. Trena assumed the moment Jasmine was finished arranging Trena’s curls, she’d run off to a corner and text all her friends with the news.
Well, they’d find out soon enough anyway. It was one of the big reveals for tonight’s show. Besides, she was pretty confident Jasmine wouldn’t hesitate to credit her as the source. And more than anything, Trena liked taking credit. Liked the power that came from revealing lies and dispelling secrets.
The important thing was not to give it all away at once. Like any good storyteller, Trena worked hard to build just the right narrative pace to lure the audience in. Then she held them captive and kept them riveted with the spattering of bombs she dropped along the way.
At this point, there was no doubt she knew more about the case than Detective Larsen. After all, she had the kind of intel and resources he couldn’t even begin to penetrate with his meathead ways.
Layla had wasted her one permitted phone call to connect with Trena, having no idea that Trena wasn’t the least bit surprised by the news, that she’d stood right there when Larsen had forced his way inside Aster’s apartment and scared her little brother Javen into revealing their whereabouts.
And more—so much more—none of which looked good for Aster, who could now face the death penalty for multiple homicides among other crimes, while Layla, Tommy, Ryan, and Javen were charged with aiding and abetting and accessory to the crime.
Maybe Trena would break the case. Wouldn’t that provide an exciting boost for the ratings? After all, there was so much more to it than anyone yet realized . . . and she was so close to fitting all the stray pieces together.
Funny how she’d been seconds away from firing Priya when the girl finally came through. Had Priya been holding the intel all along—just waiting to see how far she could push it? Trena certainly suspected as much, yet in light of the reveal, she was inclined to let it go.
Turns out Madison spent those shadowy months between the West Virginia house fire and her move to Connecticut living with a certain Eileen Banks, who Priya revealed was Paul Banks’s mother. As it also turned out, Paul Banks was first on the scene the night Madison’s parents died. None of which, on the surface, seemed to ring any alarms. But for Trena, who could smell a cover-up from a decade away, it was a potential game changer she was quietly looking into.
Still, there was no need to rush the reveal until she was absolutely sure there was no stone unturned. She was so far ahead of the game, she could afford to milk it until she was confident the audience belonged entirely to her.
After all, Hollywood was a binge-and-purge culture, where celebrities were expelled as quickly as they were consumed. Now that she was on her way to the top, Trena didn’t plan to be discarded and forgotten anytime soon.
“Beautiful,” Jasmine said, nodding approvingly at Trena’s luxuriant curls, before leaving her to a few minutes of silence to look over her script.
ANNOUNCER: Tonight—the first of a multiple-part investigation going deep inside the secret world of Hollywood nightclubs, the teens hired to promote them, the stars who frequent them, and how it all might have led to a missing celebrity. This is In-Depth with Trena Moretti.
[Cut to clips of Hollywood Boulevard, the Night for Night facade, a billboard featuring Madison Brooks, and a dead and barren Joshua tree]
TRENA MORETTI: Good evening and welcome to In-Depth. Tonight, join us as we take you behind the velvet rope for a deeper look into what really happened to A-list celebrity Madison Brooks. While there have been over 215 reported murders in Los Angeles County this year alone, there is no denying that the Madison Brooks case is one of the most controversial, most talked-about crimes the world over. While many strive for a spot on the coveted guest list, few will ever get to experience what really goes on inside the gilded walls of Hollywood’s most exclusive hot spots. It’s a secret world of privilege and wealth, its doors carefully guarded by bouncers well trained on who to let in, and who to keep out.
Tonight, you’ll hear from club owners, self-described nightlife impresarios, bouncers, bartenders, and promoters who worked alongside Aster Amirpour, Layla Harrison, and Tommy Phillips, who were recently charged for their involvement in the Madison Brooks case. You’ll also hear from those closest to former teen heartthrob Ryan Hawthorne, who’s also been implicated in the crime.
There are those who view the clubs as no more than a fun, uninhibited space where one can freely express oneself and blow off some steam. While others will paint a much darker picture, claiming that the world of nightclubs is not nearly as innocent as it seems. They say it’s a dangerous, drug-riddled, crime-ridden world that’s run by adults who prey on the young.
BRITTNEY LANCASTER (from video): I worked as one of Ira Redman’s club promoters right alongside Tommy Phillips, and let me tell you, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. That world is totally corrupt, and I’m lucky I got out when I did.
[Aerial shot of Ira Redman’s Unrivaled nightclubs lined up along Hollywood Boulevard]
TRENA MORETTI: You’ll meet the critics.
MATEO LUNA: My older brother Carlos collapsed outside a club and died. They dumped him there like trash, so they wouldn’t have to deal with him. Those club owners don’t give a crap about the kids who are making them rich.
[Footage of police cars swarming outside Night for Night, zooming in to examine the line of crime-scene tape surrounding the terrace where Madison disappeared]
TRENA MORETTI: And you’ll meet the supporters.
IRA REDMAN: I provide opportunity and the kind of well-paying jobs that work well around class schedules and
other priorities young people have. Unrivaled Nightlife Company employs over two hundred people, the majority between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five. I ran a contest where the winner got to walk away with fifty percent of the door earnings—that’s a boatload of cash—enough to pay a few years’ college tuition. No one else out there can claim that.
[Footage of the long line of hopefuls waiting for a chance to interview for the Unrivaled Nightclub Promoter competition]
TRENA MORETTI: While there’s no denying some of Hollywood’s biggest stars can be found tucked away inside the VIP rooms, not all of them make it out of there.
ANONYMOUS MADISON BROOKS FAN (crying as she places a small stuffed pink bear outside Night for Night, where the Madison Brooks shrine grows increasingly larger each day): I still can’t believe it. I just can’t. To think that Madison was inside there, scared and alone . . . [needs a moment to continue] . . . Madison meant everything to me. When will they find her?
TRENA MORETTI: Stay with us, as we trace the events of the final days before Madison Brooks went missing, tonight on In-Depth with Trena Moretti.
[COMMERCIAL BREAK]
[In-Depth logo]
“Ms. Moretti?”
Trena glanced up from her script, trying to remember the name of the young gofer standing before her. Catherine? Caitlin? It was a blur of young faces, and they all looked the same—bright-eyed, hopeful, and eager to make their mark on the world.
“You almost ready?”
Trena nodded. Ready, amped, her star meter was on the rise and she couldn’t wait to get started.
“Great, we’ll begin in three. In the meantime, this was delivered for you.”
She handed Trena a large rectangular package normally used to hold long-stemmed roses, then shouted into her headset as she made her way toward the soundstage.
Trena set the script aside and studied the box. Her name was written on the front in a large boxy font, though there was no indication as to where it might’ve come from.
Grabbing a pair of scissors from the makeup table, she sliced through the tape to reveal a dozen thorny rose stems, all of them missing their heads, the arrangement tied with a gauze bandage roll tied neatly into a bow.
The small card tucked inside read:
Break a leg!
Best-case scenario,
that’s all that happens to you.
With shaking hands and a pounding heart, Trena carefully replaced the note, closed the box, and stowed it under the table.
“You ready?” The gofer was back and stood fidgeting before her.
Trena took a moment to steady her breath and settle the wild fluttering that had overtaken her belly. Then, nodding firmly, she rose unsteadily from her chair. “Did you happen to see who delivered that package?” She fought to keep her tone as casual and even as her frayed nerves would allow.
The gofer lifted her shoulders.
Trena had expected as much, but still, she had to ask.
“Everything okay? You look sort of shaken.” The girl cocked her head in a way that saw a spray of frizzy bangs spilling over her forehead and into her eyes.
“Do I?” Trena turned toward the mirror. It was true. Her checks were flushed while her eyes looked wild, too bright. “Just some preshow jitters, I guess.” She forced a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll get over it.”
The girl shot her a worried look, then led her to the soundstage, where another crew went to work hiding the mic under her blouse, removing lint from her blazer, and doing a last-minute powder.
“Ready?” The director motioned to her from behind the camera.
Trena took a deep breath. Had James sent the message? With no hard evidence, she could only suspect.
Though whoever sent it had sorely underestimated her. Trena hadn’t come this far only to fold right when the going got good.
No, this was her moment to shine—the moment she’d worked her whole life for—the moment she deserved.
Whoever was bent on bringing her down had no idea what she was capable of.
She settled onto her seat and took a moment to center herself, when she spotted someone who resembled Priya leaving the set. Trena was surprised to see her, since she hadn’t exactly invited her. Still, now that she was there, she might as well hang around and watch. Trena would’ve killed for an opportunity like that at her age.
She was about to call out to Priya when the countdown to broadcast began, and Trena immediately switched gears, cleared her throat, looked directly into the camera, and in her most composed voice said, “Good evening and welcome to In-Depth. I’m Trena Moretti. . . .”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe so many thanks to so many people, but first I want to thank the winners of the Unrivaled preorder contest: Heidi Berenkuil (who also got a character named after her!), Pamela Fattorelli, Rochelle Garcia, Jennifer Görzen, Amber Hook, Mary-Beth Pearson, Jacklyn P., Annamarie Smith, Emily S., and Becca T.
Also, many thanks to the wonderful team at HarperCollins/Katherine Tegen Books, including but not limited to: Katherine Tegen, Claudia Gabel, Melissa Miller, Kelsey Horton, Stephanie Hoover, Rosanne Romanello, Alana Whitman, Lauren Flower, Valerie Shea, Julianna Wojcik, and Jean McGinley.
One of the highlights of my career so far was seeing Unrivaled launched in a simultaneous global release, and I’d like to thank the following HarperCollins teams for their efforts in making that launch so amazing: HC Japan, HC UK, HC Poland, HC Sweden, HC Canada, HC Norway, HC Netherlands, HC Australia, HC Brazil, HC Czech Republic, HC Latin America, HC Denmark, HC New Zealand, HC Portugal, HC Spain, HC Germany, HC India, HC Italy, HC France, HC Hungary, HC Finland.
And, as always, thank you to my agent, Bill Contardi, for the continued guidance, wisdom, and humor.
And to Sandy for pretty much everything.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo by Nancy Villere
ALYSON NOËL is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of over twenty novels, including the Immortals, Riley Bloom, and Soul Seekers series. With millions of copies in print, her books have been translated into thirty-six languages and have made numerous international bestseller lists.
Born and raised in Orange County, California, she’s lived in both Mykonos and Manhattan and is now settled back in Southern California, where she’s working on her next book. You can visit her online at www.alysonnoel.com.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
BOOKS BY ALYSON NOËL
Unrivaled
Blacklist
Infamous
CREDITS
Front cover photograph by Noël Alvarenga
Cover design by Erin Fitzsimmons
COPYRIGHT
Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
BLACKLIST. Copyright © 2017 by HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2016953134
ISBN 978-0-06-232455-9 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-0-06-266688-8 (international edition)
EPub Edition © March 2017 ISBN 9780062324573
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FIRST EDITION
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Alyson Noel, Blacklist
(Series: Beautiful Idols # 2)
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