It could easily have gone the other way, though. The security cam might not have picked up a reliable image, or his mind, after such a long day, might not have been so sharp. It was proof that the gods were smiling on Johan, and a reminder that he needed to be more careful moving forward.

Not that he was negligent by nature. Johan lived by a code of honor, orderliness, and value. Kitty was exceptional in that he’d been seduced by her aesthetic, and had trusted her too readily. Even Xander had cautioned that Kitty knew too much, too soon. But Johan wanted her. Not sexually—at least not to begin with—but to enhance his brand. Hollywood’s champagne drug scene necessitated a champagne image, and Kitty fit the bill.

Also—and this was important—he had liked her. He admired her sass and spirit. And yes, he’d occasionally considered her in romantic terms. They would almost certainly have taken that direction, given time, but of course she’d ruined everything by being disloyal, and showing how unremarkable she truly was. Maybe she hadn’t known anything about Sly Boy’s operation, but she’d still stolen hundreds—thousands—of dollars’ worth of canary. Just a little, she’d said. For personal use. Johan knew that a little today would turn into a little more tomorrow, and really, it wasn’t so much that she’d been skimming, but that she thought he was too stupid to notice.

Even so, Johan had considered granting her a stay of execution, and letting her hightail it back to Kentucky with a promise to keep her mouth shut. He decided against it, though. A person was either trustworthy or they were not. There was no gray area, and therefore no second chances.

He glanced in the actor’s closet: a Goodwill-style arrangement of old shirts and tees, a few faded pairs of jeans folded on a shelf, footwear scattered across the floor. No sign of Kitty huddled, petrified, in the back corner. Johan left the room. The bathroom was opposite, door ajar. He pushed it with his elbow and entered. A man’s bathroom, with a deep smell of urine and the toilet seat up. There were two toothbrushes, one flattened and old, the other one new. The packaging was in the wastebasket. Kitty’s toothbrush. She hadn’t taken it with her. Was she coming back?

Johan walked through to the kitchen, unlocked the door, and let Xander in.

“Ain’t nobody home,” Johan half sang.

“How do you want to play it?” Xander asked, glancing around. He had that look in his eye, like he wanted to set fire to something.

“Cool, for now,” Johan said. “I have a feeling they didn’t go far. Could be back any moment, so we wait.”

Xander nodded.