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“Yes. Sometimes they were. But the alarming part was he would tailor the details of the date and location to wherever I was going to be that day. I was on press junkets that took me literally all over the world or movie sets that should not have publicly released locations, protected by non-disclosure agreements and gag orders. But no matter where I was that day, the letters would detail a date and a place for dinner. Some kind of other outing and then...”
“Got it,” Arnoldo said, saving her from having to go into any more detail. “So your agent didn’t find it alarming that this person knew your whereabouts at all times? That should have triggered some type of investigation.”
“In hindsight, my agent might not have been prepared for it. She is an amazing woman and has been in the business for a long time, but she hadn’t worked with someone on my level before.” Paisley’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry that sounds so arrogant. I don’t mean it that way. I picked Isabel because I really like her style, and I knew she was a genuine person. That’s so hard to find in Hollywood. But this was a situation she hadn’t encountered before. She was in over her head; we both were.”
Arnoldo nodded. “I understand. Like King said, there is no one way to deal with these things. Now you said there were other letters, and they were different.”
“So many other letters,” she reported somberly. “Some were not explicit at all, and came across as sweet at first and then would talk about how ugly I am or how they noticed I gained weight. Others would pick apart my fashion choices and talk about how I wasn’t talented. They’d send photographs of me at various events and highlight all my flaws. It was a massive mind game but the photographs seemed to be candid. Something they took at all the different places they followed me. The tone of each letter was so different; it didn’t seem like one person would be sending them. But it also didn’t seem like they were acting independently either. They’d started all at once. They started arriving at the same frequency all around the same time. It seemed like they were connected, but when I started to think that, I realized how different the letters were and changed my mind.”
“So when did you loop police or security into what was going on?”
“I was sick one night, it was very last minute and I didn’t turn up at a charity event I’d RSVPed for. No one knew I wasn’t going to be there. I turned my phone off and went to bed. The next letter turned threatening. They were furious I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. There was a lot of speculation in the letter about why I didn’t show up. Calling me names. Threatening to kill me if I ever missed another event I was supposed to be at. Six letters arrived, all with the author very upset I’d not been where they expected me to be and all escalating in their anger and violence. It was altogether different.”
“How would you normally cancel an event? I’m sure there were other times when you had agreed to go to something and couldn’t make it. What was the process for that?”
“It would depend on the type of event, but usually my team would reach out and let them know we had a scheduling conflict or some sort of change of plans. We’d send a gift basket or some other token of apology. We always tried to make sure it was well in advance so we didn’t seem rude. This night I was sick was an anomaly, and it clearly upset the authors of the letters.”
“You said they speculated about what you were doing instead that night. Did they think you were with a man? Or on a date? Would that have been an accusation included in the letter?”
Paisley nodded.
“Were you dating anyone or was there a man in your life at the time?”
Paisley bristled at the question. “I was alone that night. But even if I had been with someone, that person had no right to call me a whore. To threaten my life.”
Arnoldo held up his hand. “Of course not. I’m sorry if it sounded like I was implying that. I was curious if they were correct in their accusation, having knowledge they otherwise should not have been able to procure. It would be important to know if they had first-hand visual confirmation of you on a night when no one else knew where you were.”
“They were wrong. I was home, sick and alone.”
“So you called the police?”
“Yes. My security team did. But they weren’t able to find out anything about who was sending the letters. Soon after, incessant phone calls started and kept up no matter how many times I changed my number. It was heavy breathing. The occasional rude name thrown my way. They’d call my hotel room and leave messages wherever I was around the world. I don’t know how they did it.”
Ben, sounding reluctant, said what everyone was obviously thinking. “It sounds like they had inside information from someone who had access to your schedule. Were there a lot of people who knew where you would be?”
“I trust my team. I can’t even consider any of them would betray me. We were a family. To answer your question, yes a lot of people knew my schedule. My hair and makeup team. The PR folks. My agent. My security. Drivers. The people who arranged travel. Wardrobe. Stylist. I know it sounds pretentious but a lot goes into promoting a movie or working on one. Everyone is like family. There is no one I would accuse of betraying me.”
“I’m sure you have a great team,” Arnoldo agreed, though it sounded like he wanted to add his opinion on how no one could really be trusted.
“It was more like this person was in my head. Reading my mind." The wave of terror that had swept her up for months was on her again. Her hands shook. The cold chill that came every time the phone rang was back. Splotches of dark spots clouded her vision as she tried to get her breath steady again.
“It’s all right,” Ben assured her, his hand on her back. “No one knows you’re here. No one is going to find you at Cinderhill.”
Arnoldo's brows furrowed as he absorbed the information. "It seems like a highly organized operation. Someone or some group with access to resources and information. Your schedule was varied and dynamic. Impossible for one person to keep up with. If they’re everywhere you are, snapping pictures, and keeping up, they may have a network of people involved.”
“What kind of network does something like this?” King asked, but no one seemed to have an answer.
“Have you noticed any patterns or connections that could help us narrow down the suspects? Any groups you’ve had trouble with in the past?"
Paisley paused, deep in thought, trying to recall any relevant details. She’d spent countless nights staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what had happened. Who could be this mad at her? Who had she pissed off? She’d never been able to come up with anything. She explained the only thing she could come up with.
"A few of the movies I've been involved with have stirred a little controversy but nothing that should have been directed at me personally. And no one else in those movies has been targeted like this. Isabel checked with their agents. I’ve always tried to engage positively with people. I go out of my way to be inclusive and make sure I am thoughtful about what I say publicly. There were no inciting incidents I’ve been able to pinpoint.”
She couldn't help but feel a tinge of defensiveness creeping in. Arnoldo's probing questions, though necessary, made her feel like she should have done more. Should have been more astute and put the pieces together on her own. Did she bring this upon herself?
Ben noticed the shift in Paisley's demeanor and interjected, clearly trying to offer a bit of levity into the conversation. "You know, Paisley, PETA might have a vendetta against you now that you're out here in the woods, showing your true colors. Poor Gus the snake didn’t stand a chance once you got a look at him. It was all,off with his head."
His attempt at humor earned a small smile from Paisley, momentarily lightening the mood. However, the gravity of their situation quickly resurfaced. It was clear they were dealing with something more significant than a lone stalker. A web Paisley had fallen into.
