I knew the feeling.
She closed her eyes as I got out my phone and started to text Anderson, asking for a later call time, but I hesitated then deleted the message. It would look bad if we didn’t show up to work on time and had been seen at the party. We’d just have to power through tomorrow and take naps in our trailers when we could.
Evie fell onto my shoulder, and I looked down, taking her in. She looked even more beautiful covered in blood. I sighed. She didn’t realize it, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever tell her, but her enemies were my enemies. She’d just killed a man and was sleeping like a baby. I imagined I’d sleep well, too, once this was all over.
When we reached my house, I woke her up.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up. “Where are we?”
“My house. I have dogs. Just a heads-up.”
She rubbed her eyes. “Dogs?”
“You good?” I asked with a chuckle as I helped her out of the car.
“I’m great. That little nap was actually really refreshing.”
“Good, because it’s going to be a late night.” I unlocked the door and pushed it open.
“Late? But our call time is early.”
“Yes, but we need an alibi.”
I let her go in first and flicked the hallway light on as I shut the door. A second later, there was a scratching sound, followed by panting. My tiny white Bichon Frise ran into the hall, followed by my Saint Bernard.
“Is that...” Evie stared down the hall as they paused then bounded our way.
“Precious and Cujo?” I squatted for my babies to greet me. “Yes, ma’am. Although you wouldn’t guess who’s who.” I lifted the smaller dog and waved his little paws. “Meet Cujo.”
“And that’s Precious?” Evie laughed, dropping down to pet the giant Saint Bernard.
“I got Precious first. Cujo seemed like the low-hanging fruit, but I wanted another name from horror.” I explained how the big one got the name of the dog fromSilence of the Lambs. “But then I was gifted this little guy, and I thought it was funny to give them reversed names.”
“It’s cute. I love it. I would have never guessed you’d own a poodle dog.”
“Bichon Frise,” I corrected and stood, taking Cujo with us. “And he was a gift.”
“That’s wild. Who gifts people pets?” she asked.
I bit back the truth of who exactly had given me Cujo and instead made a joke. “That’s Hollywood.”
She didn’t need to know that Cujo came from a producer I’d spent the night with to get a gig I’d wanted. The producer felt guilty about the bruising she’d left me with and thought Cujo would make up for it, even though I’d told her a role in her movie was enough. But she’d insisted, and in a way, it did help. I’d always wanted a dog growing up, and I also got the part in her movie.
Taking our wet socks and shoes off at the door, I took Evie into the living room. She’d never been inside. Suddenly, I felt a little exposed, which was ironic, considering my career. I looked around, hoping the furniture and decor weren’t too cringe.
“So, what were you saying about needing an alibi?” she asked.
Right, the alibi.
“Yeah, well, if people were to investigate, which again, I don’t think they will, they might remember we were at the premiere. We need to make it look like we’ve been here all night.”
“How do we do that?”
“The internet.”
She cocked her head.
Cujo squirmed in my arms. I let him down gently and followed him to the kitchen, where both dogs demanded snacks. I offered them treats and then looked up at Evie. “We should do a livestream, where we casually drop that we’ve been hanging out at my place all night.”
