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They’d had the heavy stage light checked for signs of sabotage but there had been no obvious indications it had been tampered with. Yes, it had somehow disentangled itself from the heavy steel bar holding it up but it was hard to say how this had happened. An oversight on the part of the people rigging it up? Or a faulty bolt that had come loose? Hard to know for sure.

The occupants of the limo were all uncharacteristically quiet as the fancy car ate up the miles, the driver expertly navigating LA’s famously congested highways as he took them back to the house, located in the city’s hills.

It was Opal’s safe haven. The home she returned to every night to recharge her batteries. Where she could be truly herself, unencumbered by the weight of fame and the expectations of a global audience and legions of adoring fans.

“I don’t know how long I can keep on doing this,” she said now, as she leaned back against the headrest, her eyes closed and a deep thought groove dividing her brows.

“You mean…” Odelia began.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing the show with this kind of thing hanging over me all the time.” She opened her eyes and fixed Odelia with surprisingly mellow brown eyes. “You have to find out who’s doing this to me, Odelia. And fast. If by the end of next week this hasn’t been resolved I’m going to tell my bosses at the network I’m done.”

“But you can’t quit,” said Gran, who, in spite of the fact that her affection for Opal had taken a hit, obviously wasn’t prepared to see her show go off the air just yet.

“I can and I will,” said Opal, with the same forcefulness and decisiveness that were a hallmark of her remarkable personality and which had served her well in her meteoric rise to the top of the media landscape. “If this person isn’t caught by next week I’m calling it quits. At least for the time being. I can’t work like this. I can’t sit there interviewing guests knowing any moment something might drop down on my head and that’ll be the end of me.” She paused and frowned. “You know, maybe that’s all this person wants: to make me give up my show.” She cut a glance to Gran. “So you think this could be related to that Jacqueline woman? The one claiming I ruined her business?”

“Could be,” Gran allowed. “Or it could be someone else who feels you didn’t treat them the way they should have been treated. Anyone who appeared on your show and now harbors a grudge.”

“Maybe you could make a list,” Odelia suggested. “A list of people who made threats or filed a complaint with the network against you over the years.”

“Like I told that Jacqueline person, take a number.”

“That many, huh?”

“Honey, you can’t do a show like mine and not make a couple of enemies in the process. There will always be people who don’t like what you have to say about them, and who’ll threaten you with legal action. But you’re probably right. I’ll make you a list.”

“There’s also some members of your staff I would like to interview,” said Odelia. “Like your chauffeur, your cook, your butler—in fact I’d like to talk to all of them.”

“I’ll arrange it,” Opal said, closing her eyes again.

She looked very tired, Odelia thought, and no wonder. As if the pressure of being the most sought-after show host wasn’t enough, this whole thing had come on top of that.

She just wished Chase could assist her. But him being a cop Opal had put her foot down. No police, not even Odelia’s boyfriend or uncle.

“What did you think of the show, by the way?” asked Opal, rubbing her face.

“Oh, it was great,” said Odelia. She had to admit Opal had handled the Miriam interview brilliantly. Miriam’s mother had indeed come on stage, and mother and daughter, after some initial awkwardness—had quickly been on a path to forgiveness by Opal’s gentle nudging, and by the end of the show had even hugged and declared that all was forgiven. And even after the show had ended, they’d sat together for a long time, talking things through and patching up their fraught relationship. It was like a miracle.

“Yeah, that was pretty amazing,” Gran admitted. She’d had her misgivings, but clearly they’d been misguided.

“I know what you were thinking,” Opal said now.

“You do?” said Gran. “What are you, psychic?”

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