Poppy Harmon and the Pillow Talk Killer by Lee Hollis (most read book in the world .txt) 📕

sorry, that was rude, it’s just that I can’t talk about it.”

“I understand.”

After a few more minutes, Lulu finished the caricature. She set her pencil down and showed Poppy. “What do you think?”

Before Poppy could react, she heard giggles coming from behind her. She swiveled around to see Violet and Iris staring at the caricature of Poppy that Lulu held up in her hand.

“Oh, Poppy, it’s wonderful!” Violet cooed.

“It looks exactly like you!” Iris cracked.

Poppy arched an eyebrow.

“I mean if you were a cartoon character,” Iris added.

Poppy stood up. “How about you two each get one done of yourselves?”

“I do not need a silly drawing to remind me of my imperfections!” Iris snorted.

“Oh, come on, Iris, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Violet said. “And we don’t need a cartoon sketch to remind us of your imperfections.”

Iris’s nostrils flared as she glared at Violet.

Poppy pulled three twenty-dollar bills from her purse and pressed them into the palm of Lulu’s hand. “That’s for all three sketches.”

Lulu eagerly accepted the cash. “Thank you so much.”

“Do you have time to do two more?” Poppy asked.

“Of course. Other than the man ahead of you, you’re the only business I’ve had all night.”

“Great,” Poppy said, whirling around to Iris and Violet. “Now, who’s going to go first?”

Iris shoved Violet forward.

Violet sat down in the chair and tried adopting a sexy pouty pose and said pleadingly, “If you can, make me look like Betty Boop or Jessica Rabbit rather than Marge Simpson.”

“I’ll try my best,” Lulu promised.

As she began doodling Violet, Poppy noticed some worry lines forming on Lulu’s face. She could tell Lulu was worrying about her abrupt manner earlier when Poppy had brought up Greta Van Damm.

Lulu focused on Violet’s face and added some more details to her drawing before stopping. “Poppy, I hope you’re not mad at me for before. I would hate to upset you, especially since you’ve been so generous, buying three sketches.”

“I just want to support you, a fellow actor. . . .” Poppy said in a soothing tone.

Lulu perked up. The fact that Poppy Harmon had just referred to her as “a fellow actor” seemed to be a big boon to her morale. Suddenly they were more than just acquaintances, they were peers, and it bought Poppy an overflowing abundance of good will.

“And I don’t expect you to tell me something if you don’t want to,” Poppy said firmly.

Lulu scribbled furiously as she spoke. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, I just can’t. I’m, like, legally bound not to say anything to anyone.”

Poppy gave her a quizzical look.

“I signed a document,” Lulu tried to explain. “A non . . .” She searched for the night words.

“Non-disclosure agreement?” Poppy offered.

“Yes! That’s it! Greta had me sign one of those before she would give me any money.”

That was all Poppy needed to hear.

She could surmise the rest herself.

Hal Greenwood had a long history of sexually harassing women on his film sets and at his production offices. Greta Van Damm’s job was to keep the movies rolling at all costs in order to feed the bottom line. Even if that meant paying off actresses and pretty female extras targeted by Hal with big wads of cash and securing ironclad contracts designed to keep them quiet so the operation continued to run smoothly. She knew pressing Lulu for more details would be pointless. If she divulged any more, she could be sued, and Lulu clearly understood that.

But this latest revelation raised a very serious question in Poppy’s mind. If Greta was forking over money to buy the silence of Hal’s purported victims, what else could they be hiding?

Chapter 25

“I’m sorry, Ms. Van Damm is not in right now,” the lovely, young, caramel-skinned Chrissy Teigen look-alike said from behind the reception desk at Hal Greenwood Productions located in a high-rise in Century City.

Matt flashed her a warm smile, planted his hands on top of the reception desk, and leaned forward. “Could you please check again, because we just saw her car in her reserved space down in the parking garage?”

Chrissy’s own smile tightened and she spoke in a clipped, irritated tone. “I don’t need to check again. She’s not here.”

“When do you expect her back?” Poppy asked, arms folded.

Chrissy hesitated, not sure how to respond. Then, she shrugged and just seemed to make things up as she went along. “She has back-to-back meetings at a couple of different studios, Universal and Disney, way in the Valley, so she probably won’t even be back in the office today. She’ll probably just go home from there.”

“I see,” Matt said, nodding before turning to Poppy. “I say we take our chances and wait here on the off chance she does drive back to the office, what do you say?”

Poppy plopped down on the expensive leather couch in the waiting area. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

Matt joined her, and they both sat staring at poor Chrissy, who was now at a loss as to how to get rid of them. Her phone chirped, she adjusted the headset she was wearing, and cleared her throat. “Hal Greenwood Productions, how may I direct your call?”

Poppy and Matt exchanged triumphant glances. They were not going to be summarily dismissed, not when they were reasonably certain Chrissy was lying and Greta Van Damm was at this very moment back there hiding from them in her office.

Matt called over to the receptionist once she had transferred the call. “Do you happen to have any water handy?”

“No,” Chrissy said flatly, obviously having been instructed not to encourage these two to stick around for any extended length of time.

Matt flashed her another winning smile. Poppy could tell Chrissy, or whatever her real name was, was attracted to Matt, but she was fighting hard to maintain a sense of professionalism and to follow her orders from the higher-ups. Another phone call came through, which Chrissy answered. “Yes, Ms. Van—” Chrissy’s eyes widened slightly as she stopped herself from announcing the caller’s