Box Office Poison (Linnet Ellery) by Phillipa Bornikova Page A

Supreme Court. They correctly interpreted my expression.
    Merlin was grinning again. “You have just experienced the most common LA conversation. It breaks the ice, it can be used as a pickup method, and it covers all social gaffs.”
    “Yeah, well, we’ve got the same thing in New York. Except we discuss apartments. I would submit that our discussions are ultimately more useful,” I said.
    Merlin grinned at me, enjoying the sparring. “Big-city rivalry. We’re more exciting.”
    “We’re more sophisticated.”
    “We’ve got movie stars.”
    “We’ve got skyscrapers.”
    He threw up a hand. “Okay, I call it a draw.”
    “You do know to tune your radio to 1070 am for traffic updates?” asked the PA. She clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that we were teasing now.
    “No, but I guess I do now. Okay, all you California dreamers, this hard-charging New Yorker is going to work.” I gave them a finger wave and went back to my office to prepare for the day’s testimony.

 
    6
     
    David had called for a fifteen-minute recess while we waited for the next witness to arrive. This was going to be the big enchilada, the world-famous director George Campos, who was going to talk about human versus Álfar actors. The previous three hours had been taken up with a statistician, and my brain felt as numb as my butt. Barbara Gabaldon hadn’t even bothered to question the man because she could sense he wasn’t having that much impact. My three days of burrowing into the reports had only intensified the sense that humans were getting the short end of the stick. But what to do about it?
    As I bolted for the bathroom I reflected that this was another problem with vampires: they tended to forget that humans had bodily functions. The ladies room was outside the office proper, down the hall past the elevators. Missy had already beaten me to the facility. While I was in the stall I heard her washing her hands, but I didn’t hear the door close. Sure enough, she was waiting for me when I emerged. She leaned against the wall by the towel dispenser and glared at me. I let the warm water roll across my hands and tried to think of something to say. The soap offered a conversational opening, and I seized it like a drowning woman.
    “You know, this new foam soap makes me think of shaving cream.” The inanity made me cringe, but the angry silence had just been too much.
    “We’re checking into you,” Missy said. She was so stiff I thought her jaw would crack.
    “Okay. What else did you say?”
    “You’re a whore for the Spooks.”
    Spook was an incredibly pejorative term for the vampires, werewolves, and Álfar who made up the Powers, and it offended me. She’d gotten under my skin.
    “Okay, I’m not going to take you up on this,” I said. “First, you shouldn’t be approaching me without the other parties being present, and do you really think this is a winning strategy—to be nasty to one of the people judging this case?”
    “That’s the problem. There’s only one person judging, and you’re questionable.”
    To get a towel I had to stand right next to her, and she didn’t budge. We were inches apart. “I’m going to do you a favor,” I said. “I’m not going to mention this conversation to Mr. Sullivan, but don’t you ever approach me again. Understand?”
    “I’m not afraid of you. Once we finish with the Álfar we’ll take care of the others, and people like you, too.” Missy slammed out of the bathroom.
    There was a quivering in the pit of my stomach. I waved, the dispenser burped out a towel, and I clutched the material so tightly that my nails broke through the rough paper. We’ll take care of the others? Who was the we? My mind jumped to the threatening phone call from last night. Maybe I should say something to David, but I didn’t want to prejudice the proceedings for all the human actors because Missy was a bitch.
    I left and found myself walking with a whip-thin older man whose deep-set dark