Stars in the Night

by Cara C. Putman

  Audra hesitated then eased onto the seat, the smell of cigarette smoke overpowering. Her limbs felt heavy as she sank against the back and answered the first few questions, almost without thinking. Name. Occupation. Hometown.

  “Finding your sister brought you to Hollywoodland?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any reason to think she’s in danger?”

  “Other than finding a body in her apartment?”

  “Good point.” The corners of his eyes crinkled before he looked down at his notepad. “All right…” A car roared to a stop at the curb. The black vehicle didn’t match the car she sat in, but as soon as she saw the man driving, she knew Detective Franklin had arrived.

  He stepped from his car, hat clamped down around his eyes, thin face, lanky form, and stiff posture. His gaze darted around the apartment building. She imagined he already took mental notes, not missing much.

  “Everything looks quiet. Where are the neighbors?” Franklin’s gruff voice grated.

  “It’s still hush-hush. Jones is guarding the apartment, and I’m here with the witness.”

  For the first time, Franklin turned to Audra, his gaze marching up and down her. She fought the desire to melt against the seat and attempt a disappearing act. The detective tightened his tie and strode toward her. When he reached the car, he squatted in front of her. “You witness the murder or find the body?”

  “Found the body.” She tipped her chin to match his gaze.

  “Trainor, why don’t you interview the neighbors? Chubby there can guard the door. What’s your name?”

  She told him. He nodded and she got the impression he never forgot a detail.

  “Well, Miss Schaeffer. You’re going to wait here while I check the scene. You look like the kind I can trust for a few minutes.”

  What else was she going to do? Steal the police car? Time slowed to a crawl as she waited for him to return. If she hadn’t checked her watch, she would have believed hours had passed rather than minutes.

  A solemn expression pulled his face down as he strode toward her. “All right, come here. I want to hear your story in there.”

  Audra hesitated then followed the detective into the apartment and toward the bathroom.

  Officer Jones marched up to Detective Franklin. “You sure about this?”

  Detective Franklin stared him down. “She’s already seen the body.” He turned his back on the officer and pivoted toward her, a guarded expression on his face. “I need you to step in here.”

  Goosebumps erupted all over her skin. She couldn’t go in that tiny space again. Not with the body.

  “Come on.” Detective Franklin extended his hand and waited. Audra exhaled then took a deep breath. She placed her hand in his and took a step forward.

  She peered around the door. The woman lay against the side of the claw-foot tub, her red gown bunched under her. Her shoulder and arm had wedged between the tub and the floor.

  “Tell me what happened when you came in.” Detective Franklin listened intently, grooves appearing on his nose. After she finished, he studied her a minute. “Let’s go back outside. Make sure you don’t touch anything on your way out.”

  A moment later she blinked in the sunlight, wishing the rays would reach to the depths of her. Once she was settled back in the car, Franklin crouched in front of her again.

  “Do you know the name of the victim?”

  “No. I arrived this afternoon. I don’t know much about my sister’s friends and acquaintances or Hollywood.” Audra bit the inside of her cheek. An unsettled feeling engulfed her as he studied her.

  “Really? You come all the way out here and find a body you know nothing about?”

  “Of course. How could I know anything?” She wanted to stomp her foot and force him to believe her. He wasted time talking to her when he should be looking for a killer and her sister. Her heart raced at the thought her sister could be held by some killer. It pounded at the thought that that was the best scenario if Rosemary had been home when the killer struck.

  The thought rolled around her mind.

  Churned her stomach.

  She stood and hurried past the detective to the shrubs. Lost what little she’d eaten that morning on the plane.

  She bent over, hands on her thighs, trying to ignore the cycling fears and questions.

  “You all right, Miss Schaeffer?”

  Audra wiped her mouth. Tears traced down her face. She staggered back to the car, pulling a handkerchief from her handbag. She wiped her cheeks then rubbed her thumb along the monogrammed initials. RG.

  “Who did your sister talk about?”

  “She didn’t. That’s the problem. She was excited then disappointed. But she didn’t tell us many details.”

  “You’ve got to give me a name. Something.”

  Audra leaned forward and put her head in her hands. “Occasionally, she mentioned another gal. I think her name was Rachel.”

  “A last name?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t remember.” She shook her head, wishing she could force the knowledge to appear.

  “She ever mention anyone who made her nervous or concerned for her safety?” He rattled off the question as if it was one he knew all too well.

  Again Audra had to shake her head. “I had a gut sense things were worse than she said. But the lack of details and concrete examples is why I’m here alone. My parents think I’m overly concerned.” She had to get away. Find Rosemary. Before it was too late. “I found a body in my sister’s apartment. The only good thing is it’s not my sister. However, my sister isn’t home, and I have no idea if she’s safe or where she is.” She should call her parents, but couldn’t. Not until she knew something. A plan formed in her mind. “Can I call a cab?”

  “In a minute. First, I want to try a theory. See what you think.” He studied her. “Your sister a lot like you, Miss Schaeffer?”

  “No. She wants the big stage, and I’m just an attorney hoping for a courtroom.”

  “Then think about this: Your sister and this woman get in an argument for some reason. Don’t know why, mind you, but we’ll learn that. They’re arguing, and your sister accidentally kills the other woman. In a panic, she runs from the apartment, leaving the body here.”

  Indignation stiffened Audra. “You cannot think my sister did this!”

  He shrugged. “It’s a plausible theory. Things like that happen in real life and on the screen.”

  “My sister could never kill anyone.”

  “You’d be amazed how many families are convinced their precious son or daughter didn’t kill, but we prove they did. Sometimes life works that way. My guess is you won’t find your sister, because she’s running.”

  Audra stiffened her spine. “I’m leaving.” She’d find a cab somewhere.

  “We can be done for now, but I need to know where you are. Where will you stay?”

  Roosevelt Hotel. Wasn’t that where Rosemary’s event was that night? “I’ll be at the Roosevelt Hotel.”

  He whistled. “You’ve got rich taste, sister. Here’s my information.” He slipped a card from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “I’ll radio for a cab for you. Don’t leave the area without letting me know where you’re going. I’ll have more questions for you.”

  She needed to get away and think without the detective watching. “I’ll find my way, thanks.”

  “I have to insist.” The hard look in his eyes signaled she needed to tread carefully. “You might not be involved. In fact I doubt you were, but if your sister somehow learns you’re here and contacts you or you stumble onto her, you must tell me. Anything else will be obstruction of justice or aiding and abetting. If you’re an attorney, you know what that means.”

  Audra swallowed. She needed to let reason win over passion. She might not like this man at the moment. But he could be an ally later if she didn’t find Rosemary tonight at the USO event. She needed to get to the Roosevelt, follow the only information she had. “Thank you.” What else c
ould she do? “Can I get my things?”

  He nodded. “Point them out and I’ll release them.”

  After he nosed through her bags, she grabbed them and the dress, then he walked her to the curb where a cab waited.

  “Be careful. Whoever did this hates your sister. Or might be your sister.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  __________

  Robert tugged the sleeves of his shirt, pulling them from under his tuxedo jacket.

  Twilight fell outside his window. Time to get a move on or he’d miss his emcee gig. He needed the practice for whatever job he’d have on the caravan. He wasn’t a wit like Abbott and Costello. And he certainly didn’t have the pipes of Bing Crosby. He couldn’t direct a band or make the crowds laugh like Desi Arnaz. Guess he’d have to be Robert Garfield, plain and simple. Lead the crowds from moment to moment with smoothness and a touch of humor.

  That ought to bring the fans in droves.

  Selecting a top hat and walking stick, Robert pulled on his gloves and headed out. A 1940 Buick followed a ’42 Studebaker down the boulevard. Someday he’d own his own vehicle, only his would be something sporty with quick pick-up. A short walk down palm-lined streets led to the Roosevelt Hotel. The Spanish architecture-influenced building towered against the night sky at least eleven or twelve stories high. Red marquee lights spelled out the name of the restaurant sitting in front of the hotel. Robert marched past it and toward the main door off Hollywood Boulevard. A bellboy dressed in rich livery opened the door with a grin.

  “Sir.”

  “Thank you.” Robert tipped his hat, removed it, and started across the lobby then turned back to the bellboy. “Can you direct me to the Blossom Ballroom?”

  “Certainly.” He led Robert across the lobby and directed him up a set of stairs. “From there you can follow the women in ball dresses.” He winked at Robert.

  “An interesting technique, but looks like it will work.”

  “Yes, sir. Hone in on a beautiful woman and follow her. Works even better if she’s alone for the evening.”

  Robert laughed. “I’ll remember that. Thank you.”

  No sense telling the man the last thing he imagined doing tonight was finding a woman to twirl around the floor when he wasn’t at the microphone. The full rainbow shimmered in the hall as couples made their way to the ballroom. Robert slipped to the edge so he could bypass the crush.

  “Robert Garfield.” A sweet soprano voice called him.

  Robert turned on his heel, pasting a grin on his face. “Who’s calling?”

  A brunette adorned in a silver gown that clung to her body until it fell away from her hips in waves held out her hand. “I heard rumors you’d make an appearance.”

  “Elizabeth McAllister. You are breathtaking tonight.” Robert leaned over her hand and brushed his lips across it.

  She tittered. “You are kind. Escort me inside?”

  “You’re unescorted?” Robert glanced around. “I never thought that day would come.”

  “Me either.” She shrugged. “Willing to help?”

  “I don’t know that being seen on my arm will make a difference, but let’s make like it will.” Robert offered her his arm, and the two moved across the ballroom.

  When they reached a table with an empty seat, Robert bowed toward her and slipped from her grasp. “Here you go, mademoiselle.”

  “Thank you. Good luck tonight.” She kissed his cheek. “You’ll do a great job.”

  Robert pulled out her chair, cheek hot where her lips had brushed. He glanced around the expansive ballroom. Artie’s instructions echoed in his mind. Find Mr. Feldstein. If he didn’t, the caravan gig might not happen.

  He had to hit a homerun tonight.

  “There you are.” Goldie smacked her gum, her platinum curls in a crazy wave around her face. “Artie sent me to watch for you hours ago.”

  “Not that long.”

  She rolled her eyes and blew a bubble. “Maybe, but I’ve turned down too many dances while cooling my heels. This way.” Her skirts swished around her calves as she turned without waiting to see if he followed.

  Robert smiled at a woman he passed. They’d both worked a crowd scene in a movie. Looked like someone had worked with her since then. She’d dropped a few pounds, glammed up a bit, as she now wore the latest form-fitting style. She looked ready to become the next Marlene Dietrich. Exactly what the world needed at a time like this—another pin-up girl for the troops to dream about.

  He brushed his gloves down his jacket sleeves and bumped into Goldie when she halted.

  “Watch it.” Goldie pushed Robert away. “Here’s Artie.”

  “Thanks, Goldie.” Robert turned to the table where Artie Schmaltz held court. Instead of the typical two-or four-topper that filled the glittering ballroom, this table had a sea of chairs shoved against it and chairs two or three deep behind it. The starlets that filled each chair added to the illusion Artie had landed in the middle of a rhinestone-bejeweled collage.

  “Keeps your paws off, Garfield.” Artie’s eyes glittered like black coals.

  Robert held his hands up, palms out. “No interest, I assure you.”

  No, if he ever developed a serious interest in a woman again, it would be someone far removed from the superficiality of Hollywood. Yet another strike against him if the studio heads knew. He didn’t fit easily into their system of dictating every action and relationship of the stars. They did that once and it had been a disaster with a world of heartache at the end.

  Artie snorted and stuck a smoldering cigar in his mouth. “Come here, Babycakes.”

  A dolled-up blonde in a skintight blue gown that left little to the imagination slid onto Artie’s lap and snuggled close. Robert shifted to the side, grateful his kid sister, Louise, had never shown a desire to move into the family’s business. With her angelic looks and naivety, the vultures would circle and tear her to pieces before she knew what happened.

  Even if this kid snapped out of it before she was used up, there were a dozen more eager and ready to take her place. And that was limited to the women he could see here. Disgust coiled in his gut. He jammed his hands in his pockets. “So where’s this Feldstein I check in with?”

  Artie gestured toward the head table. “See the gorilla up there? He’s with the big studio. He’ll get you set up, not only for tonight but— if he likes you—for the caravan. Break a leg.”

  No pressure. He always auditioned in front of a few hundred strangers who all wanted him to fail. Maybe he should have taken more opportunities with the vaudeville act to test his chops in front of a live audience. Tonight he’d aim to exude a debonair aura, far removed from the sticks of middle country vaudeville.

  Robert strode across the distance with a nod here and a handshake there before reaching Mark Feldstein, who turned to him with an impatient air. As Robert studied him, he decided gorilla was a bad descriptor. He was larger than most in Hollywood but wore a well-tailored suit and flashy tie that made him fit in with the style-conscious.

  “Robert Garfield.”

  The man eyed him up and down before brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes and sticking out a hand. “Mark Feldstein. I’m glad you’re here. Your hostess is late.” The big man eyed his watch. “Artie promised she was the next Kate Hepburn.”

  Robert shrugged. “I suppose. I would think you could get the real Kate.”

  “True. She didn’t want to drive back into town for the night, and the bosses said it was okay. You won’t pull things like that on the road?”

  Robert shook his head, feeling a slow grin spread on his face. “I’m a team player.”

  “That will get you only so far. The rest requires something extra.” Feldstein looked Robert up and down. “You’ll do fine. Show me you can string some thoughts together, maybe get the audience to relax, and you’re on the caravan. No pay, but all expenses.”

  “Understood.”

  “Good. I get the honor of babysitting the lot of you B-listers for the
tour.”

  “I’ll keep your job easy.”

  “They all say that. In fact, that’s probably what your co-host thought until she decided to run an hour late. You go on in five minutes with or without her. Welcome to showbiz and the art of going with the mood.” A few minutes later, Robert had the agenda as well as instructions on who to introduce. Then Feldstein strode off, muttering under his breath.

  Robert took a deep breath and placed his hat, walking stick, and gloves at the head table. He set the agenda next to them. Time to figure out the audience.

  While it was a Uniform Services Organization fundraiser, it wasn’t overwhelmed with military uniforms. Which made sense in a way, since it wasn’t the USO itself. But there were a few dress uniforms mixed with tuxedos and the colorful dresses. Small square tables were set around the ballroom. Only a few people like Artie held court in the corners of the room. Waiters circulated with plates of hors d’oeuvres. The aroma of the food mixed with the cloying scent of a dozen perfumes. If he stayed near the front, the mix didn’t overpower him.

  Several couples waltzed in the center of the room on the dance floor. In a minute, the bandleader would raise his wand, the music would stop, and Robert would step to the podium. Or maybe he should step to the podium and wait for the band to stop.

  He shook his head. If he wanted to make it, he needed to do this in a big way. And he’d never run from a challenge before. It was time to break Lana’s hold on him. All the things she’d said about his lack of acting skills weren’t true. Time to get his head back in the game and focus on what mattered—doing a phenomenal turn as emcee.

  The violins and trumpets reached a crescendo and fell silent.

  “The dancing will continue after the program. Thank you again for joining us. Take it away, Bobby.” The bandleader swiveled on his heels and pointed his baton at Robert.

  Robert stumbled to the microphone, bumping into it and sending a screech through the ballroom. “Sorry about that, ladies and gents. Didn’t mean to give you such a loud wake-up call. Welcome to tonight’s festivities in honor of the Uniform Services Organization. Let’s give a round of applause to thank the representatives of the USO who are with us tonight. What great work they do.”