“He didn’t come anywhere near me,” I said. “Thank God I’m not a stiletto, though. He smashed one until the heel broke through the sole. I’m guessing he didn’t like what he saw in the video.”

“No.” Ray looked me over again. “You feel safe going back there tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully. “I’m not on his bad side. But if I was—” An image of Pearson’s hands holding a pummeled sneaker stopped me. “I won’t be alone with him.”

As Ray drove me to a taqueria in Mar Vista, I gave him the main details of my day, except for seeing Layla and Nelson, which I wanted to hold for later. The restaurant—with a cracked linoleum floor and the smells of grilled peppers, onions, and beef—was a recommendation by Alicia Ruiz. Before long, we were sitting in an orange booth with giant plates of cochinita pibil and carnitas tacos.

“So Pearson smashed some shoes, Layla told you to quit, and Erik looked guilty,” said Ray.

“There’s something else,” I said. I started to launch into spotting Layla and Nelson together when Ray’s phone buzzed.

He looked at the number and rubbed his head. “Sorry. I have to get this, and it might take a few minutes. Why don’t you listen to the interviews while I’m out?”

Before heading outside, he slipped a recorder onto the table and pulled a set of headphones from his knapsack. I put them on, the leather cupping my ears. Zania went first. I listened to her for a little while. She denied recognizing the male in the video, but she didn’t sound convincing. Instead, she wanted to make a point. Many points.

Zania: The thing is, you could see this video as art or you could see it as a call for help, but Brenae, she saw everything as art. She saw everything and everyone as a step higher. You know? She was on a ladder and every person she met, even friends, even men, was a rung. So this guy, whoever he is, was he really abusing her, or was she staging something to make a point? Maybe she wanted to show injustice for women . . . or maybe she just was over someone and had regret sex with him. I mean, who films their own sex life anyway, and then tries to build a career on it? Perverts. But she wasn’t a pervert. She was self-obsessed.