"She says it's very important," Beau drones on in monotone.

I pause to look at the rest of the group, everyone looking anywherebut at me. Peyton whispers something to JD, who nods curtly. "Hey,watch that!" I snap. I follow Camcorder's lens to a row ofsconces he's filming and wait for Beau, who finally leans over thetop-floor railing and says, "A miracle: she relented. She'll seeyou at six."

"Okay, folks." I suddenly turn aroundto face the group. "I'm calling a sidebar. Bongo, you areexcused. Do not discuss your testimony with anyone. Go. JD, come overhere. I need to whisper something to you. The rest of you may standby that bar and look for specks. Camcorder man—turn that awayfrom us. We're taking five."

I pull JD over to me and immediately he starts babbling.

"Victor, if this is about Mica not beingaround and us being unable to get ahold of her, please for the loveof god don't bring it up now, because we can find another DJ—"

"Shut up. It's not about Mica." Ipause. "But wait, where is Mica?"

"Oh god, I don't know. She DJ'd at Jackie 60 on Tuesday, thendid Edward Furlong's birthday party, and now poof."

"What does that mean? What does poofmean?"

"She's disappeared. No one can find her."

"Well, shit, JD. What are we—no,no—you are gonna fix this," I tell him. "Ihave something else I want to talk about."

"If Kenny Kenny's going to sue us?"

"No."

"The seating chart for dinner?"

"No."

"The awfully cute magician downstairs?"

"Jesus, no." I lower my voice."This is a more, um, personal problem. I need your advice."

"Oh, don't drag me into anything sick, Victor," JD pleads."I just can't take being dragged into anything too sick."

"Listen . . ." I glance over at theDetails girl et al., slouching against the bar. "Have youheard anything about a . . . photograph?"