“I’m not sure it’s a compliment. Does the truth ever fall between those lips of yours?”

I shrugged. “It’s fifty-fifty.”

He shook his head again.

A beat later Sandy reappeared with a wide notebook, lines of dates and times written on it.

“He’s had two visitors.” Sandy stabbed at a line halfway down the page. “Three days ago, his manager, Jerry Leventhal, and yesterday a Tak Davis.”

I stared at the signatures. Tak was the drummer of the Dirty Dogs. The perfect friend to bring Blain contraband coke in rehab or threaten his enemies in the media. Unfortunately, our mystery call had come in two days before his visit.

Which left Jerry Leventhal.

“Does this help?” Sandy asked, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

I nodded. “It does. Immensely, Sandy. You’ve been an incredible help.”

Cal and I turned to go.

“But, does that mean the baby isn’t his?” Sandy hounded.

I bit my lip. I couldn’t help it. Blain was too easy a target. “Oh, it’s his alright. But, shhhh, don’t tell anyone, ‘kay?”

Right. I gave it five minutes before she was on the phone to every girlfriend she had. Poor Blain. If he wasn’t such a douche, I might have felt sorry for him.

“So, I gotta ask,” Cal said as we pushed through the front doors and handed the valet our ticket, “where do you get these names?”

“What?”

“The fake names you keep giving people.”

I grinned. “Sixties sitcom stars. Jeannie, Samantha Stevens from Bewitched, Laura and Rob Petrie from The Dick Van Dyke Show.”

Cal threw his head back and laughed. “Aren’t you worried someone will catch on?”

“You didn’t.”

“Touché.” He gave me a sidelong grin as we climbed back into his tank. “So, this Leventhal character? You know him?”

I frowned. “Not really. Reps maybe half a dozen acts, but they’re mostly small time. Except for the Dogs.”

“Know where to find him?”

“No, but—”

“Let me guess, you know someone who does?”

I grinned. “You catch on quick, Cal.”

I pulled my cell from my purse and immediately started dialing. By the time we hit L.A. again, I’d cleverly bartered premier night tickets to Katie Briggs’s new movie for the unlisted address of Leventhal’s offices on Wilshire.

I was about to plug it into Cal’s GPS when my cell rang again in my hand.

“Bender?” I answered.

“Think maybe you wanna show up for work sometime today?”

Felix. And he didn’t sound happy.

“I’m…working in the field today.”

“Cal with you?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Then both of you can get back here.”

“Look, you gave me three days,” I reminded him.

“I also gave you Pines.”

“And?”

I heard the sound of teeth gnashing together on the other end. “Don’t you read the news?”

“Uh…”