Gemma Halliday - Scandal Sheet aka Hollywood Scandals

“Maybe she deleted it,” Cal offered, reading over my shoulder.

I checked her trash folder. Empty.

“Got any other ideas?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Sorry, not a computer genius.”

Unfortunately, neither was I. What I was dying to do was take this back to the office, to the one person I knew who was a computer genius. Felix. Only, if I did that, I’d also have to tell him whose it was and how I got it. Not exactly a conversation I was dying to have.

“What about her browser history?” Cal suggested. “If she had to go through the website, it should show up there, right?”

“Brilliant.” I pulled up an Internet Explorer window, then checked her history. A list of websites came up. An online shoe store, two spas, a bank, Variety online.

And Match.com.

I snorted. “Looks like we just found Katie’s dirty little secret.” I clicked the link. And immediately a profile popped up on the screen for “Kate B.,” a single, “friendly, outgoing” woman in the L.A. area looking for a “confidant man who doesn’t mind sharing the spotlight.”

“Is this for real?” Cal asked over my shoulder.

I scanned through her profile. “Sadly, it looks like it.” I thought back to the lonely look in her eyes as she’d told me about her night home alone. Could it be that Katie was really that hard up to find a good man?

Cal shook his head. “Finding love online. What a myth.”

I cringed, my thoughts instantly bounding to my own dirty little secret and Black. “Not necessarily. I’m sure some people hook up that way,” I countered. “There’s no shame in looking for love online.”

Cal raised an eyebrow at me. “Ninety percent of the guys on there are losers or perverts.”

“Well, that still leaves a girl with a 10 percent chance,” I mumbled.

I looked at Kate’s picture. It wasn’t a headshot or studio airbrushed job, but a candid photo of her sitting at a park, an ice cream cone in one hand as she laughed at something off camera. I had to admit, it was nice. Okay, she was a movie star, there was no way any pic of her was going to look hideous. But it was more natural, fresher, than I’d ever seen her.

Unable to quell my curiosity, I clicked her mailbox to see who’d written to her. Three profiles came up. A guy carrying a “few extra pounds” in Omaha who loved dogs and rodeos. A guy who listed himself as five feet tall, but promised that “good things came in small packages.” And a seventy-five-year-old who listed himself as “very young at heart.”

Wow. Talk about depressing. If this was the response someone like Katie was getting, what kind of chance did the rest of us have?

“What does this have to do with your stalker?” Cal asked, glancing at his watch. Clearly he was feeling less “good” the more time we spent in Katie’s house.

“Nothing. But, it’s the best gossip I’ve hit on all year. LONELY HEART MOVIE STAR SEEKS CYBER ROMANCE.”

“I thought you said there was no shame in looking for love online.”

“There isn’t. But it makes for awesome headlines.”

Cal opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by my cell ringing from my pocket. I slipped it out and saw Cam’s number light up the screen.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“You’ve got company.”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“I mean someone is coming up the walkway.”

I ran to the window, hiding behind Katie’s heavy curtains as I peeked out the front.

Sure enough, I could see the back of someone’s head as he stood at the front door.

“Who is he?” I asked, praying she said the UPS guy.

“The tree’s in the way. I can’t see his face,” Cam protested.

Which, I realized as the front door creaked open, didn’t much matter. Because whoever he was, he’d just entered the house.

I froze, adrenaline coursing through my body as I heard the sound of the front door shutting behind our mystery man. Then footsteps coming up the stairs.

Shit.

We had to hide. Now!

I grabbed Cal by the arm, making for the large, walk-in closet. I shoved aside a rack of designer gowns (OMG-I think that was Katie’s 2009 Oscar dress!) and wedged myself behind them. Cal opted to stand behind the door, his hand on the butt of his gun.

Two beats later the footsteps made their way into the bedroom. I closed my eyes, praying to the saint of breaking and entering that whoever it was saw Katie wasn’t home and left quickly.

But, by this point, we all know how great my luck is.

I heard the man walk around Katie’s canopied bed, to the window, and back again. What was he doing, pacing?

And then my luck got worse. Footsteps heading straight toward the closet.

I crossed my fingers, bit my lip, and mentally chanted “please go away, please go away, please go away.”

The door flew open, narrowly missing Cal, and I was face to face with mystery man.

“Bender, what the hell are you doing?”

Felix.

I let out a breath so big it made Katie’s dresses flutter.

“Jesus, Felix, you scared me half to death.”

“I scared you?” Felix put both hands on his hips. “I hear one of my reporters is breaking into an A-lister’s house and I’m the one who scared you? ”

I stood up, disentangling myself from Katie’s couture, and pushed past Felix into the bedroom again. Out of the corner of my eyes I noticed Cal holstering his gun.

“And you,” Felix said, turning on him. “You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on her.”

“I am,” Cal answered truthfully.

“This is hardly what I call keeping her out of danger. Do you know what would happen if anyone caught you two here? God, the lawsuits alone would cost us millions.”

“Your concern is touching,” I said, brushing hundred-thousand-dollar lint off my sleeve.

“What the hell are you even doing here?” he asked, his gaze pinging from me to Cal.

“Katie has a computer,” I answered.

He gave me a blank stare.

So, I quickly filled him in on Katie’s so-called techno aversion, the fact she was lying, and the computer sitting on her desk.

“No sign of the Audio Cloak software?” he asked when I was done.

Reluctantly, I shook my head.

“And no sign she’s even been to the website?”

Again, I shook in the negative.

“Then really all you have is the fact that she’s not fond of appearing in your column.”

“And she lied!” I pointed out again. “And just because the software isn’t there now, doesn’t mean that she didn’t delete it after using it. What we really need is to scan her computer for any possible deleted files.”

Felix narrowed his eyes at me. “ We ?”

I batted my eyelashes at him. “Please? I know it would only take you a second.”

“That’s all it would take for someone to see us here and call the cops, too,” he pointed out.

“Don’t worry. If anyone comes, Cam will tell us.”

His eyes narrowed again. “Cam’s in on this too?”

Oops. Sorry, Cam!

“Uh, sorta.”

Felix ground his teeth together, probably thinking about five bucks worth of dirty words. Finally he spat out, “Fine,” and crossed the room to Katie’s laptop. “But only because the sooner we find this person, the sooner I can have my paper back to normal.”

“Amen to that!” I agreed as Felix started typing in strings of letters and numbers that made the screen turn black. He bypassed Windows, going into some directory that housed information in a completely foreign language. I tried to keep up with his commands, but it was all Greek to me. Instead, I peered out the window, scanning the street for any sign of other cars, hoping that Katie needed a long touch-up today.