Chapter 46 Sierra
Sierra
Sierra seethed the entire Uber ride to the studio while her team concocted outrageous plans for getting past the reception desk.
Adi suggested they sweet-talk their way in.
Carter was keen to create a diversion in order to draw out the security personnel.
Beck was excited at the possibility of scaling a fire escape and sneaking in through the roof.
Sierra wasn’t concerned with how they got inside. She was confronting Ranielle, and she would take down anyone who tried to stop her.
But when they walked into the building, they found the reception desk empty and the lobby quiet. Strange, although Sierra wasn’t complaining about the easy access. She deserved something to go right for once.
As they made their way toward Ranielle’s office, Sierra heard construction sounds coming from Soundstage A. A sneaky check revealed crews dismantling the set, pulling apart Dr. Theery’s laboratory. Soon there’d be nothing but bare walls and concrete floors.
“Don’t they usually leave these for the postseason special?” Beck asked.
Sierra picked up her pace.
As they neared Ranielle’s office they heard—not drills and sledgehammers—but screaming.
“—can’t treat me like this! After everything I did for you and this show!”
“Oh no.” Adi groaned. “Tell me it isn’t—”
The office door swung open and two security guards emerged, dragging Adi’s mom between them. On camera, Symphony always looked immaculate and poised. Now her long hair was a flurry of tangles and her demure smile had been replaced with a snarl.
“Get your hands off me,” she snapped. “I’ll be talking to my lawyer about this. Don’t you know who I am? Don’t you—” Her gaze fell on Adi. She gasped. “Aditya! There you are. Tell these men who I am. Get them to release me at once.”
The security guards paused to look at Adi, but he stepped aside and held up both hands. “She’s all yours.”
Symphony shrieked. “Aditya! That is not funny. Aditya!”
Her screams faded as she was manhandled down the corridor.
“That explains why the security guards didn’t tackle us when we first came in,” Sierra muttered. Squaring her shoulders, she marched through Ranielle’s open office door.
The executive producer was standing over a plastic box on her desk, filling it with papers and folders. As they watched, she took an entire drawer and upended the contents into the bin before dropping the drawer to the floor behind her.
“What’s going on?” said Sierra.
Ranielle startled, then glowered when she saw them. “Great. More trespassers.” She grabbed a pen holder and dropped it into the bin. “Hitflix honestly couldn’t go one more day without firing ninety percent of the security team?”
“Hitflix is firing people?” asked Adi.
Letting out an exasperated breath, Ranielle shoved the lid onto the box and leaned across it. “They’ve fired everyone. The show is canceled. Effective immediately.”
“What?” said Carter. “They can’t do that! The finale is next week!”
Ranielle fixed her with a vicious look. “They’re already dismantling the sets, and they’ll start tearing that cursed finale room apart first thing tomorrow morning.
By this time next week, there’ll be nothing here but plywood and rubble.
But feel free to send in your complaints.
” She started pulling books from a nearby shelf. “It’s no longer my problem.”
“But . . . what about the grand prize?” said Beck. “The money? The invitation to Sweetbrier?”
“Sweetbrier?” shouted Ranielle, throwing the books unceremoniously into another box. “My life is falling apart around me, and all anyone cares about is going to some fucking resort.”
Adi winced as she snatched up more books. “And my mother was pissed off because . . . ?”
“How the hell should I know? Some part of her still thought she was a contender for the host position?” She fisted her hands on her hips.
“Do I even want to ask what you’re doing here?
Because if this is about that damn recording, then go ahead.
Tell the world the great Ranielle Russell helped a contestant cheat.
My reputation is shot at this point, anyway. ”
“Yeah?” said Sierra, stepping forward. “What’s going to happen to your reputation when people find out you killed my sister?”
Ranielle stared at Sierra like she’d started talking in code.
Then she laughed. A shrill, humorless sound. “You teenagers and your goddamn conspiracy theories. I don’t have time for this. Get out of my office.”
“We know about the blackmail,” Sierra continued. “We know Louis didn’t write that suicide note. We know everything.”
This time, Ranielle looked borderline amused. “Oh, you know everything, do you? How quaint.”
“Yes, everything.” Sierra’s anger grew at Ranielle’s nonchalance.
Didn’t she get it? Sierra knew. Ranielle would pay for what she’d done.
“Alicia left me a note telling me about her relationship with your husband, and how she threatened to go to the media if you didn’t give her what she wanted.
It’s over. My sister will finally have justice. ”
Slowly, Ranielle’s smug expression shifted. A moment of concern, but then . . . regret.
The fire roared in Sierra’s chest. Finally. Finally.
She had her.
Ranielle’s gaze drifted from Sierra to each of her teammates, and back again. Then she walked around the desk and shut her office door.
Instincts had Sierra bracing for an attack. They should have brought weapons.
Carter and Adi both reached for their phones.
But Ranielle paced to the sofa and thumped onto it with a heavy sigh. “All right,” she said quietly. “Let’s get a few things straight. I didn’t kill your sister. I was trying to protect her.”
Sierra frowned. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, Sierra. I should’ve stepped in sooner.” She looked at Carter. “I did with you. At least, I tried. When I saw you that first day in Louis’s dressing room, I tried to warn you away. I didn’t know what else to do without exposing my husband’s despicable secret.”
Carter shuddered.
“But I didn’t do any of that for Alicia,” Ranielle continued. “I stood by and let it happen because I didn’t have the time or energy for Louis’s antics—I had a show to run.” She shook her head. “I never expected Alicia to blackmail me over it.”
“What did you offer her?” asked Adi. “Money?”
Ranielle fixed him with an inscrutable look. “I offered her the world.” She left that comment hanging before adding, “In exchange for her discretion, and ending the affair.”
“Oh,” Adi said, exhaling softly. “You think Louis killed her because she was going to leave him.”
“That was my suspicion, yes.”
“You told her to break up with him, then provided police with his alibi when he killed her for it,” Sierra said. “What . . . the . . . fuck.”
She couldn’t stop her body from shaking.
“I never knew for certain it was him,” Ranielle said, sounding defensive. “And my actions saved the show. That’s hundreds of jobs protected, plus the fandom community, plus—”
“Your own bank account, after Hitflix offered to renew the show for season five?” Adi suggested.
Ranielle curled her lip.
“But . . .” Carter said, blinking, “it couldn’t have been Louis that killed her. The Real Game Master said it wasn’t him.”
Sierra massaged her temples. For a moment, she’d lost herself. The whole point of this conversation was that Louis hadn’t killed Alicia.
Right?
But Ranielle puffed herself up, her fury returning. “The Real Game Master is a delusional hack who I should have fired a long time ago.”
“Hold on,” Carter said. “You know who the Real Game Master is? Who?”
“You think you need to know every answer to every mystery, but it’s none of your goddamn business. This is not material for your little social media accounts.”
Carter gasped. “I wouldn’t post about this!”
“You would,” Ranielle argued. “You all would. There isn’t one person here who isn’t trying to screw me over.
Well, congrats—it worked. I’ll never get another job in this town after being in charge of this dumpster fire.
A murder, a suicide, every asinine fan playing true detective. Give me a break.”
“Two murders, no suicides,” Beck corrected. “Louis didn’t kill himself.”
Ranielle glared at him. “Of course he did.”
“No—he didn’t,” said Adi. “The letter was forged. It matched his handwriting from years ago, not recently.”
Ranielle scoffed. Then, when she saw he was serious, she spat, “He was in mental distress. Believe me, I know his handwriting. He wrote that letter.” Ranielle stood. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. But the case is closed, Sierra. You have your answers.”
Sierra’s words vanished. She’d been so sure, so sure that Louis hadn’t killed Alicia, that he hadn’t killed himself. But now she felt like the evidence they’d compiled was as flimsy as a handful of sand sifting through her fingers.
Ranielle made her way back to the door and pulled it open. “I have a lot of packing to do, a lot of paperwork to fill out, and at some point I need to explain to my host why he’s getting shipped back to Australia in a few weeks. So if you’ll excuse me.”
Carter’s voice pitched higher. “Australia?”
Adi cursed. “I forgot about that.”
Carter looked at him, then Ranielle. “He’s getting deported?”
“Wait,” said Adi, casting his gaze around the office. “Last time I was here, I . . . dropped something. A USB drive. You didn’t find it, did you?”
Ranielle looked ready to strangle him. “I did, actually.” She yanked open a drawer and pulled out a small plastic bin. It was filled to the brim with Escape Game–branded USBs. “It’s one of these. Knock yourself out.”
She thrust the bin into Adi’s arms, then tried to push them out of her office.
“No,” said Sierra, digging in her platform boots. “You can’t do this.”
“Goodbye, Sierra.”
“No!” Sierra wrenched away from Ranielle and bit down the sob that lurched in her throat. “Why did you bring me back? And why put me on the team you were rigging to win? I’m the villain.”
“Oh, Sierra,” said Ranielle. “Do you know what viewers love even more than a great villain? A great redemption arc. Now get out.”
She unceremoniously shoved them into the hallway and slammed the door behind them.
Carter spun on Adi. “Fitzy’s getting deported? And you knew?”
“I didn’t know the show was going to be canceled.”
She punched him in the arm. “But you knew he wasn’t going to be the host next season, because it was going to be you!”
“He was getting fired either way! This isn’t my fault.”
“Hey,” said Beck, his voice cutting through their argument. “We have other things to be dealing with right now.”
They fell quiet, and Sierra could feel them turning to her, staring at her, but her gaze was caught on a distant wall, unseeing.
She’d failed.
Again.
“You okay, Sierra?” asked Beck.
“No, actually.”
“It really was him this whole time,” muttered Adi. “We were so sure his confession was fake.”
“Honestly, I wish he would come back to life so I could kill him again.”
As they started down the corridor, Carter took Sierra’s elbow. “At least we know why Alicia was willing to give you the prize money. It sounds like she had a pretty powerful hold over Ranielle.”
Beck cleared his throat. “Is anyone going to remind her that her office is bugged?”
“I forgot about that,” said Carter.
Adi slowed, tucking the bin of USB ports under one arm. “Hang on. We thought the person leaving the clues had bugged her office, but she clearly knows who’s leaving the clues.”
“About that,” said Beck. “Who has so much power over Ranielle Russell that she couldn’t stop them, even though she tried?”
“And how did they not get fired?” said Carter.
They stared at each other, but no one had any answers.
“Also, Louis didn’t kill himself,” Sierra said, halting abruptly.
Their conversation from before was flooding back, bringing fresh conviction.
“It isn’t just the handwriting. There were also the wineglasses, remember?
And I don’t buy that he invited Carter over to find his body.
He was a narcissist. He wouldn’t have wanted Carter, of all people, to find him in that state. ”
Beck twisted his lips in thought. “But Ranielle seemed really certain he committed suicide. And I know people think I’m naive sometimes, but . . . I think I believe her. I don’t think she killed Louis. Or Alicia.”
Sierra checked they were alone. So far, the place had been empty. She supposed that when Hitflix fired you, they didn’t want you hanging around. “We’re no closer than when we started. All that, and we’re back at square one.”
“And the show’s canceled,” said Carter, eyes widening. “No finale means . . .”
“The Real Game Master won’t be revealing anything,” said Beck.
“They’re going to dismantle the room tomorrow morning,” Adi added.
“Screw that,” said Beck, nodding to the door behind Sierra. It was the costume room. “We’re not leaving until we have our answer.”