I clicked on the news to see if anyone famous had died or gotten married since I’d last read the paper. The news in LA was always the same: a freeway chase followed by a celebrity being arrested, getting divorced, or becoming pregnant. Then the weather report of partly sunny and with a low of seventy degrees.

Paul Moyer’s voice boomed out at me from the television, telling viewers about a missing woman, Veronica Davis, who had left the Universal Studios lot and hadn’t been seen in two days. She lived only a couple of miles from the studio and police said she never made it home.

I looked around at my surroundings. There was the cat, the cat box, my desk. The computer I should be writing on and wasn’t. My message light was dark. I could be dead and no one would notice. How long before someone would notice me missing and come over and break down my door, only to be assaulted by the stench of my decaying body?

I felt gross after all the cleaning and hopped in the shower. As soon as the hot water hit my body I could hear the phone ring. Normally I would just let it go, but I was feeling somewhat desperate for human contact. I lunged for the receiver and hoped it was not a telemarketer.

I checked the caller ID. “Private Caller”—never a good idea to pick up. I knew that when Grant called from the studio it said, “Fox Television” or when he had called me from his house it said his number.

“Hello?”

“Hey . . . it’s Grant.”

I couldn’t believe it. . . . What if he sensed what I was just thinking of doing? What if he knew that I broke into his e-mail? I tried to fight down my panic and sound nonchalant. “Hey, how are you?”

“Sorry I haven’t called. The last week has been crazy trying to lock down this episode.”

“No problem. I’ve been swamped too,” I replied, trying to sound like I hadn’t ever looked at the clock or calendar to calculate the seconds since I last saw him.

“So how have you been? How’s this week’s show coming along? Who dies?”

“I’m still working on it. I’m always looking for new ideas.” I brightened up a bit. “Did you see this thing about the woman who works for Universal Studios in accounting? Police believe she was followed home and now she’s missing—she’s been gone two days.”

“No, I’ve been buried.”