Colette Clark

“The Spanish Spitfire. I hate that name. As though all latin women are nothing but a spark waiting to explode.” Lisette sympathized. “I know, but everything in Hollywood is labeled, manufactured, molded, sanitized, or fabricated for the public. Even Morty himself. Rue the day they completely forget about you. Why do you think I prefer to work behind the scenes?” “Yes, well, we all have secrets, don’t we? Even that little Marlo.” A devilish smile came to Catalina’s lips. “What do you mean?” Lisette asked, realizing there was a nugget of gold underneath Catalina’s lava—or perhaps just buried dynamite. It was her job to find out just how explosive information was before it went off.  “Nothing.” Her response was too nonchalant for Lisette’s comfort.  “What do you know, Catalina?”
― Colette Clark, A Sparkling Case of Murder