“I mean, did you go to any big Hollywood parties last night?” I asked, backpedaling. “I am just so fascinated by the lifestyle of an award-winning actress such as yourself.”

“Oh.” Her frown evened out instantly. Apparently flattery, as with all of Hollywood, was the key with this chick. “I went to a charity event. Some thing in the Valley. My publicist said I had to be seen there.” She turned to me. “But did that Bender girl print that? No!”

A-ha! So she did read my column. I felt a little lift of triumph.

“What about the evening before?” I persisted. The night the first call had come in. It would have been easy enough to send the email from a cell while at some fab party. But, for the phone call, Mystery Caller would have had to have access to a computer to run the voicealtering software. Not quite as inconspicuous a task.

“I was at home,” she answered.

“With a new guy?” I couldn’t help the gossip hound in me from asking.

“No. Alone.” And by the way she pouted again, this time with a true hint of sadness on her swollen lips, I was inclined to believe her. For a fraction of an instant I wondered if maybe the life of a famous actress wasn’t even lonelier than that of a gossip columnist.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fernando break away from Marco’s grasp, threading his way back through the salon to his waiting client. I chose my next question carefully.

“So, what do you do when you’re home alone? Ever spend time online, maybe trying out new programs?” Like Audio Cloak?

She turned away, flipping her hair over one shoulder. “I don’t own a computer.”

I froze. Then blinked at her. “Wait—you don’t own a computer? Seriously? Even African tribesmen own computers these days.”

Again she did the would-be-frown pucker. “They’re trappings of a digitized society. Modern technology is only serving to distance us from the reality of living. I prefer real human interaction. I’m an artist.”

Okay, her plastic surgeon was an artist; Katie was just a movie star.

Unfortunately, she was a movie star who couldn’t possibly be my mystery caller.

Stifling a wave of disappointment, I shoved the dogeared Cosmo back in the rack and slid off my seat just as Fernando approached.

“Well, great to meet you. Can’t wait for your next pic,” I called as I walked away.

Though I’m not sure it even registered. Katie was once again enthralled with her own reflection as Fernando appeared to fluff her hair into Rapunzel-worthy waves.

Cal followed a beat behind me. “So much for our starlet,” he mumbled.

“Well, one down, three to go,” I shot back, making my way back toward Marco’s Camelot desk.