Racing the Light (Elvis Cole #19; Joe Pike #8)(10)

The wheels spun faster and Ryan dug deep for an answer. Then his eyes lost focus and I sensed he saw someone or something he hadn’t seen before. He suddenly turned and hurried down the hall to their studio.

“I think I know how to find him.”





5





Ryan pointed at a poster of a red-haired woman wearing eight-inch stripper heels and red lingerie. It was pinned to the studio wall along with the UFOs and aliens. A banner at the top of the poster read: MEET XXX-STAR SKYLAR LAWLESS—live and in person—one day only!

Ryan said, “Her.”

An inscription was scrawled across her legs in looping red script. Josh, I luv you! Thanks for the best O ever! Luv, SkyXXX!

I looked at Ryan.

“A pornstar?”

Ryan dropped into a swivel chair as if he hadn’t heard me and tapped at the computer’s keyboard.

“Skylar Lawless. We’ve had her on the show twice, but the last time was like five months ago. Then, two weeks ago, she called. She probably called four or five times. They were talking a lot.”

I studied the poster.

“About what?”

Ryan suddenly stopped typing.

“Josh was kinda vague. I thought she wanted back on the show, and he didn’t want to tell me.”

I reread the inscription she’d written. Thanks for the best O ever!

“Maybe she wanted something else.”

Ryan swiveled around to frown at me.

“Please. Josh didn’t have sex with her. We’re journalists. You get involved with a guest, you lose credibility.”

I glanced at Skylar Lawless in her sexy red lingerie. Her back was arched and the tip of her tongue gleamed between unnaturally white teeth.

I said, “Oh.”

“I’m serious. Standards matter.”

He pulled a cell phone from his shorts, tapped at the screen, and held it to his ear.

“You said Josh probably told someone where he was going, so maybe she knows.”

“What are you doing?”

“Calling her.”

He suddenly scowled and held up a finger, the finger telling me not to speak.

“Skylar, this is Ryan Seborg, Josh’s producer. Call me as soon as you get this, please. It’s important.”

He left his number, ended the call, and scowled even harder.

“Bitch.”

He swiveled back to the keyboard.

“If she doesn’t call back, maybe she’ll talk to you. Here. Look.”

I moved closer and peered at the monitor.

“What is this?”

“Our website.”

The In Your Face with Josh Shoe home page showed a picture of Josh in headphones beside the show’s logo. A nav bar with a row of buttons ran below it.

“The index guide lists our episodes. Just scroll through the list and pick the show you want. We’re looking for Skylar.”

Ryan clicked a button, and a numbered list of the episodes appeared. Their most recent episode topped the list.


#66: CELL TOWERS OR SPYCRAFT?

Is your local cell tower spying on you? Dr. Adrian Reece, Ph.D., offers proof of a Silicon Valley conspiracy.



He scrolled past titles like “Alien-Human Hybrids,” “Big Pharma’s Hidden Nanobots,” and “Is LSD the Key to Other Dimensions?”

I said, “Catchy.”

“Subversive. Here, this is her.”


#51: TRIPLEX STAR SKYLAR LAWLESS PAINTS NAKED!

Josh gets In Your Face with the pornstar taking the art world by storm!



Ryan clicked the title. A page opened, revealing a photo of Josh and Skylar Lawless at what appeared to be a crowded, upscale party. Skylar had traded the red lingerie for a black jacket over a black sequined dress, and looked better for the change.

I saw nothing sexual in the photo. They were standing together, but not as a couple. They weren’t touching, or hanging on to each other, or mugging the way people mug when they’re being silly or flirty. Skylar Lawless came across as a very attractive professional woman with a bright smile and intelligent eyes. Josh loomed beside her like a giant. He was the largest person in the room.

“Where was this?”

“An art gallery downtown. She was just a porn actress the first time we had her on the show, then she got into art, and Josh wanted her back. He loved the idea of her reinventing herself as a painter. Look at this stuff—”

He clicked again and photos of Skylar posing beside what appeared to be tall, rectangular posters lined with typed sentences appeared. Then I looked closer, and realized the upright rectangles were cell phones.

I said, “She paints phones?”

Ryan snorted.

“Text exchanges, like when people text each other. She says her paintings examine how men and women relate. It’s bullshit.”

Ryan glared at the image as if having Skylar Lawless as a guest had left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Anyway, you can listen to her interview, see more pictures, whatever. Maybe she knows where he is.”

“This was five months ago?”

“Uh-huh.”

A five-month-old interview was probably worthless, but her recent calls with Josh might lead to his whereabouts.

“Give me her number.”