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“It was like every day you knew something brilliant was being created,” she said. “I felt like it was an honor to work on such a project.”
“Sanders said the Harlows were about out of money when they got home,” I said. “Personal assets were going to have to be sold.”
That seemed to puzzle Maines. “Is that true? If it is, that’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Sanders said he told the Harlows about the situation shortly after they arrived back in the United States.”
“Well, there you go,” Maines said. “I left as soon as I got off the plane. My boyfriend was there at the jetport waiting, and I was in no mood to stick around.”
“So you didn’t accompany them to the ranch?”
“I did not,” she said. “I was done once I got off the plane, and everyone knew it. Things had been intense for so long, I needed to breathe. I still do.”
“Did Thom talk about a mysterious new investor in the film?” I asked.
She half laughed. “ ‘There are always mysterious new investors on the horizon.’ That’s one of Thom’s lines.”
“What about their sex life?” Mo-bot asked.
The assistant reddened. “I … I’m their personal assistant, but I’m not privy to their life behind closed doors.”
I said, “There were lots of sex toys in their closets.”
Maines reddened again, looked at her lap. “Look, that’s way outside my pay grade. All I know is that Thom and Jennifer were devoted to each other and to their children, and that they led an exemplary life. And I’ve had just about enough of this. I’m going to the FBI, get them involved.”
“I think it’s a good idea, but I don’t know what standing you’ll have,” I said as she got to her feet. “Legally, I mean. You’re not family.”
She hesitated, glanced at the door. “So what should I do?”
“Let me make the call first,” I said. “I’ll tell the FBI what we know, try to work with them from here on out. You can call afterwards, back me up with your concerns.”
Maines nodded, put a card on my desk, took mine. Then she thumped a finger on the edge of the desk, said, “Remember that movie All the President’s Men, about Watergate? That guy kept saying ‘Follow the money.’ It’s always about the money, isn’t it?”
“Point taken,” I said. “Definitely point taken.”
; Chapter 27
TWENTY MINUTES LATER I was looking at copies of Cynthia Maines’s financials courtesy of Sci.
“Maines receives a base salary of four hundred K a year,” Kloppenberg said. “But she is underwater on six different investments she made before the crash, three of them in Vegas real estate. Her cash flow is strong, but she’s got no savings to speak of. I’d describe her lifestyle as self-indulgent and her investment philosophy as incoherent. Other than a total lack of use of credit or debit cards over the last four days, Maines has a long and wide history of extravagant purchases. Luxury goods. Robb Report baubles.”
“No bangles?” I asked.
“Plenty of those too,” Sci said. “Tiffany’s most recently.”
“What else?” I asked.
“I think she was lying about the Harlows’ sex life,” Mo-bot said.
“Either that or she’s a prude,” I said.
“But what are the chances of that in Hollywood?” Mo-bot asked. “And there was another thing she was being evasive about.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Guadalajara,” Mo-bot said. “I got the impression that she was conflicted, less than forthright.”
