"Are you sure you haven't seen her?" Velvet's annoyance had turned to fear almost an hour before. She was no longer tentative with her investigation. She stopped everyone she passed, whether she knew them or not. But there weren't that many people left to question.

"Listen, lady, I only know who you're talking about because of the costume you just described. I haven't seen the punk rock princess. Sorry." He pushed past her and headed back across the deserted dance floor.

The band was dismantling the stage. The caterers were cleaning up. The party was over.

And Jamie Lynn was missing.

Mashing her yarn wig in one hand, Velvet left the living-room-turned-concert-hall. She rounded a corner into the wide foyer and spotted Gwen Mueller, Depalma's office manager. Chyna, one of the agency's models, leaned heavily on the other woman. Someone had been enjoying the party a little too much.

Velvet rushed forward and lifted Chyna's limp arm to her shoulders, relieving Gwen of some of her burden. "Is someone coming to get her? She can't drive like this."

"Not hardly. I was going to take her home. She better not throw up in my car!" Gwen's usual sunny disposition had been rained out by the ordeal.

"I can help get her into your car, but what happens if she passes out on the way?"

"I'll find someone to help me carry her. We don't have a lot of options here."

"I'll follow you to her apartment. It's more or less on my way home."

Gwen sighed. "Thanks. I'd appreciate it."

"Yessh, thanks," Chyna slurred. Her head slumped over onto Velvet's shoulder.

"You haven't seen Jamie, have you?" she asked Gwen. "She really has me worried. A friend dropped her off, but I was supposed to drive her home."

Gwen shook her head, lodging her shoulder more firmly beneath Chyna's armpit.

"She left with Taaarzan." Chyna giggled. "No, he wauss a caveman."

Velvet paused and looked at the inebriated model. "You saw Jamie leave the party? When?"

Chyna's eyes glazed over and she stared off into space.

"Chyna! Try to focus. When did Jamie leave?"

"Hours ago."

"And she was with one of the men from the party? A caveman?"

The model nodded, then went completely limp.

"Perfect!" Gwen stumbled, impatiently kicking off her high-heeled shoes. Velvet supported Chyna while Gwen scooped up the offending footwear and returned to her position on the other side of the model.

They half dragged, half carried Chyna out to the front porch. "Where's the valet?" Velvet asked.

"Tony thought all the guests had left, so he sent the valet home. Your car keys should be on the kitchen table. That's where I found mine."

They lowered Chyna to the first stair and allowed her to slump against the half-wall. Velvet sat next to her, pressing her against the wall to keep her upright. "Go get your car. I'll baby-sit."

Gwen hurried down the stairs.

"Gwen." Velvet stopped her. "Did you see a man dressed like an outlaw? Tall, with—"

"Vel, half of L.A. was here tonight. Why, did he pinch your ass or pull your pigtail?"

Not waiting for a response Gwen laughed and continued on toward her car.

Leaning against the semiconscious model, Velvet worried her bottom lip. Chyna was shit-faced. How could she depend on anything Chyna said? Still it was as close as she'd come to finding out where Jamie had gone.

"Did they get you too?"

Velvet looked at Chyna surprised by the sudden clarity in her voice. "Who? What do you mean?"

"The devil and his henchmen. They were prowling the party ta night."

"Okay. Just relax. Gwen will be back in a minute."

Chyna licked her lips and blinked repeatedly. "They weren't dancing."

"Take a deep breath, Chyna. You're not making sense." But the image of the devil-man thrusting into Selena sprang into Velvet's mind. This whole night had been unusual to say the least!

"Once you dance with the devil there's no turning back." She collapsed against Velvet, sobbing.

Gwen pulled her car into the wide circle drive in front of the mansion a few minutes later. "Why's she crying?"

"I'm not sure. She was babbling about the devil and then she started crying."

"Some people should stick to virgin daiquiris. Thank God this party only comes around once a year." Velvet helped Gwen load Chyna into the passenger seat of her car. "You know as late as it is, and as drunk as she is, I'm just going to take her to my place. Someone should probably keep an eye on her anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Dale's there to help me get her into bed." Gwen laughed. "That didn't sound right. Anyway, drive safely. Last call was about an hour ago. There are people like her out there behind the wheel."

"I hear you."

Velvet watched until Gwen's car turned a corner out of sight, disturbed by Chyna's odd behavior. It was a jumbled bunch of nonsense, but she had seemed genuinely afraid.

"Booze will do that to you," Velvet whispered, heading back into the house to find her car keys.

Disappearing friends and terrified models. Men in devil masks and familiar Outlaws. A shiver skittered down her spine as fatigue crept over her soul. Gwen was right. It was a good thing these parties only came around once a year.