CHAPTER FIVE
The smell hit Kari first.
The air felt wrong. Heavy and wet, coating her skin like something she'd need to wash off later.
Back home, even on the hottest days, the desert air had a cleanness to it, a purity that came from vast open spaces and wind that had traveled hundreds of miles with nothing to collect along the way.
Here, she could taste the city in every breath—fuel and food and fifteen million people packed into a basin between mountains and sea.
Phoenix had prepared her for cities, but Los Angeles operated on a different scale entirely.
The traffic alone was staggering, an endless river of vehicles flowing past the terminal in waves that seemed to have no beginning or end.
Horns blared. Engines idled. A shuttle bus hissed to a stop, disgorging passengers who scattered without looking up from their phones.
Somewhere nearby, a man shouted into his phone in a language she didn't recognize, his voice competing with the mechanical announcements cycling through the terminal speakers, the rumble of rolling luggage, the constant thrum of aircraft overhead.
And the sky—what she could see of it—hung low and hazy, the blue leached to a pale gray-white that made her think of dirty dishwater.
On the reservation, the sky stretched forever, so big it could make you feel small in a way that was somehow comforting.
Here, the sky felt compressed, pushed down by smog and pushed in by the buildings crowding the horizon.
Kari found her rental car, a nondescript sedan that would blend into the urban landscape, and programmed the hotel address into her phone's GPS.
The drive from the airport to downtown took nearly an hour despite being less than twenty miles, the freeway a parking lot of frustrated commuters inching forward in increments measured in car lengths rather than miles.
Six lanes in each direction, and every one of them packed solid.
She watched drivers eating, texting, applying makeup, staring straight ahead with the glazed expressions of people who'd made this commute so many times it had stopped registering as anything but lost time.
The landscape scrolling past her window offered no relief.
Strip malls and billboards and concrete soundwalls covered in graffiti that ranged from gang tags to elaborate murals.
Palm trees rising improbably from sidewalks, their fronds brown at the edges.
Everything sun-bleached and tired-looking, as if the city had been left out too long and nobody had bothered to bring it in.
By the time Kari reached her hotel, her shoulders ached from tension she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She sat in the parking garage for a long moment after turning off the engine, letting the silence settle around her.
She was a long way from home.
She found herself thinking about Tayen Stern's Glimmer account, which had gone completely dark overnight, the profile now showing nothing but an error message.
Whatever had prompted Tayen to disappear digitally, she'd done it thoroughly.
The only lead Kari had was Elite Vision Modeling, the agency that had featured so prominently in Tayen's posts.
Her hotel was a mid-range chain near the Arts District, close enough to Elite Vision's office that she could walk there if needed.
Kari checked in, dropped her bag in a room that looked identical to every other hotel room she'd ever stayed in, and splashed water on her face.
The flight had been short, barely two hours, but something about air travel always left her feeling drained.
She touched the medicine pouch beneath her shirt, a reflex that had become second nature.
Ruth's voice echoed in her mind: The protection travels with you, even away from this land.
Kari hoped that was true. Standing in this anonymous hotel room, surrounded by a city of four million strangers, she'd never felt farther from home.
Elite Vision Modeling occupied the second floor of a converted warehouse in the Arts District, the kind of building that had probably housed manufacturing equipment fifty years ago and now contained yoga studios and artisanal coffee roasters.
The agency's name was displayed in sleek chrome letters beside a frosted glass door.
Kari climbed the stairs and pushed through the door into a reception area designed to impress. White walls, white furniture, enormous photographs of beautiful women staring down from every surface. The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume and new carpet.
A young woman sat behind a curved desk, her own features so flawless that Kari suspected she was one of the agency's models working a day job. She looked up with a practiced smile.
"Welcome to Elite Vision. Do you have an appointment?"
"I don't." Kari approached the desk, keeping her body language open and unthreatening. "I'm looking for information about one of your models. Tayen Stern."
The receptionist's smile flickered almost imperceptibly. "I'm sorry, we don't give out information about our talent. If you're interested in booking Tayen for a job, I can give you our rates and availability."
"I'm not looking to book her. I'm trying to find her." Kari pulled out her badge, holding it where the receptionist could see. "Detective Kari Blackhorse, Navajo Nation Police. Tayen's family is concerned about her welfare."
The receptionist's eyes widened. "Police? Is Tayen in some kind of trouble?"
"That's what I'm trying to determine. When was the last time anyone here had contact with her?"
"I... I don't know. I'd have to check with Diana." The receptionist reached for her phone. "Let me see if she's available."
"Diana?"
"Diana Shepherd. She's our talent coordinator. She works directly with most of our newer models." The receptionist pressed a button and spoke quietly into the receiver, then looked up at Kari. "She'll be out in just a moment. Please, have a seat."
Kari didn't sit. Instead, she studied the photographs on the walls. Young women, all of them. Some looked barely out of their teens. They stared at the camera with expressions ranging from sultry to ethereal, their faces painted and lit to perfection.
But beneath the gloss, Kari saw what she'd seen in Tayen's Glimmer photos. Performances. Masks. Beautiful surfaces concealing whatever lay beneath.
A door opened at the far end of the reception area, and a woman emerged.
She was older than the models on the walls, perhaps late thirties, with short dark hair and the kind of sharp, angular features that might once have graced those same photographs.
She wore a tailored blazer over dark jeans, her posture confident and controlled.
"Detective Blackhorse?" The woman extended her hand. "I'm Diana Shepherd. I understand you're asking about Tayen Stern."
Kari shook her hand, noting the firm grip and the assessing look in Diana's eyes. This was someone who evaluated people for a living, who made quick judgments about faces and bodies and the way people carried themselves. Kari had the distinct impression she was being evaluated now.
"That's right. Her aunt hasn't been able to reach her, and she's concerned."
"Her aunt." Diana's expression remained neutral. "I wasn't aware Tayen had any family. She told us she was on her own."
"She ran away from home two years ago. Her aunt has been looking for her ever since."
"I see." Diana gestured toward the door she'd emerged from. "Why don't we talk in my office?"
The office was small but well-appointed, with more photographs on the walls and a desk cluttered with headshots and scheduling documents. Diana settled into the chair behind the desk and motioned for Kari to take the seat opposite.
"I have to be honest with you, Detective. I'm not sure how much I can help." Diana folded her hands on the desk. "Tayen is one of our models, yes, but we don't monitor their personal lives. They're independent contractors, not employees."
"When did you last see her?"
Diana appeared to consider. "Last week, I think. She had a catalog shoot in the Arts District. I stopped by to check on things."
"How did she seem?"
"Fine. Normal. Tayen's a professional. She shows up on time, does her job, doesn't cause problems." Diana paused. "Do you have reason to think something happened to her?"
"Her Glimmer account was deleted yesterday. Her aunt tried to contact her, and within an hour, Tayen went completely dark online."
Something flickered in Diana's eyes. Surprise? Concern? It was gone before Kari could identify it.
"That is strange. Social media is crucial in this industry.
Most of our girls live on Glimmer. Then again, maybe she just wants to be left alone.
That would explain why she's never really talked about her family.
" Diana reached for a tablet on her desk and tapped at the screen.
"I can give you her contact information.
Phone number, address. Beyond that, I'm afraid I can't help you. "
She wrote something on a sticky note and handed it across the desk. Kari glanced at it: a phone number and an address in Koreatown.
"Thank you." Kari pocketed the note. "One more question. How did Tayen come to work with Elite Vision?"
"We found her." Diana smiled. "That's what we do. We scout talent in places other agencies overlook. Tayen was working at a coffee shop when one of our people spotted her. She had the look. Raw, unpolished, but with real potential. We brought her in, did some test shots, and the rest is history."
"How long ago was that?"
"About eighteen months. She's come a long way since then."
Kari stood. "If you hear from Tayen, please ask her to contact her aunt. She's worried."
"Of course." Diana rose as well, extending her hand again. "I hope you find her, Detective. Tayen's a sweet girl. I'd hate to think something's happened to her."
Outside, Kari stood on the sidewalk and let the late afternoon sun warm her face. The conversation had been polite, cooperative, and entirely unhelpful. Diana Shepherd had answered every question without actually telling her anything.
She pulled out her phone and dialed the number Diana had given her. It rang four times, then went to voicemail. A generic automated message, no personal greeting.
"Tayen, this is Detective Kari Blackhorse. I'm a cousin of your aunt Lola. She's worried about you and asked me to check in. Please call me back when you get this." Kari left her number and ended the call, not expecting a response.
The address in Koreatown was her next stop. If Tayen wasn't answering her phone, maybe her roommate would be more forthcoming.