Maybe he was right. But she’d thought that several times since arriving. Yet each hour seemed to hold something more unsettling than the last.
“I’ll take care of her.” Mrs. Margeson settled an arm around Audra’s shoulders. “You’ll be fine here. I’ve already got the couch set up for you. It was that or sleeping on my twin. I didn’t think you’d mind since the couch was what you’re using downstairs.”
Audra accepted the comfort of the landlady’s embrace, closing her eyes and imagining her mother held her. Her muscles turned to jelly as if weighted down by bags of sand. She sagged against Mrs. Margeson.
“I need to stop talking and let you get some rest. The stress you have been under.” She tsked, a comforting sound. “I’ve got the tea brewing. A nice cup of tea to help you relax after everything.”
“I don’t know that tea will help.”
The landlady’s chins jutted. “It can’t hurt anything.”
“Thank you.” Audra collapsed on the couch. A blanket and sheet were pulled across it with a pillow resting on one end. The cushions were wider than the davenport at Rosie’s. Maybe she’d sleep after all. Though, as she settled down, Audra thought she could sleep on a boulder if it allowed her to escape.
Mrs. Margeson walked back from the galley kitchen with two steaming china cups. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh?” Audra tried to smile her thanks when she accepted the cup.
“I think you should find a job with a studio.” She settled on the chair and stared over the top of her cup at Audra. “It could be a good way to get to know people who knew Rosemary.”
“I don’t know.” Audra considered the idea. “I’ve never had an interest in the movies. That was always Rosemary’s area.”
“If you want answers, that’s where you start.”
“Why?”
Mrs. Margeson shrugged. “My nephew works for a studio and he’s told me some about how they work. I think it could give you quick insight.”
“But Rosie hadn’t broken in yet.”
“As far as you know. I guarantee she was at the studios. That’s where all the hopefuls spend their time. Her agent had her out and about. Screenings. Film tests. It didn’t matter if she had a part or not. Sometimes you have to be in the right place at the right time to be noticed.”
Audra tried to follow but got stuck on something Mrs. Margeson had said. “Her agent? Do you know who that was?”
“I’m pretty sure it was Artie. You know, that Schmaltz guy.”
“Of course.” Audra sipped the weak brew. What she wouldn’t give for a heaping spoonful of sugar. Her brain must be fogged to have forgotten a name like that. “I guess I should go see him.”
“Sure, but get to the studios.” Mrs. Margeson tucked a gray piece of hair behind her ear. “Well, it’s been another long day, filled with too much sorrow. I think we’d better get to bed. Are you done with that?” She grabbed Audra’s half-full cup. “I’ll see you in the morning. Make yourself at home and knock on my bedroom door if you need anything.”
Audra quickly slipped into her nightgown and brushed her teeth. She settled on the couch, hugged the pillow to her chest, and rocked. A deep emptiness settled over her. What had happened to her faith that God was good all the time?
She should pray, but the words wouldn’t form. And the emptiness seemed to sink deeper into her soul. Today she’d had to do unimaginable things, and God had seemed distant after her morning prayers.
Where did You go?
The words cycled over and over in her mind like a broken record. She’d always thought her faith was so strong, so solid. Unshakeable even. Yet in two short days, it felt like waves of grief and anger had crashed over it, revealing how very weak the foundation was.
Pulling her Bible from her bag, Audra flipped to the Psalms. She’d slowly been reading through them, and the book opened to Psalm 126 where her bookmark rested. She reread verses 5 and 6. They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.
Rejoicing? That seemed so impossibly far away. A mirage that she could not imagine.
Audra closed the Bible and tucked the pillow behind her head. She curled on her side and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. The promise felt hollow and empty. For right now, she’d have to rely on herself and hide her tears.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
__________
Monday, June 8, 1942
Artie had called a meeting in his office for first thing Monday morning. Robert wondered if he really wanted to update everyone on the status of the second victory caravan. Or did he want to keep an eye on his clients?
The agent had acted nothing but strange since Rosemary Schaeffer’s murder. It didn’t make any sense to Robert, but there was little he could do other than ignore Artie. He’d do that to make the climb to the top of the marquee. He’d eventually prove to everyone that he was as good an entertainer as his father. Maybe even better, if he got the chance to work hard. The klutzy kid had transformed into an urbane man.
So Artie would get the benefit of the doubt since he’d taken a risk on Robert. Only believe the best about everyone. Words his mother had drilled into him. And she’d raised him in show business. If she could do it, he’d train himself to do the same.
Artie’s office was standing room only when Robert arrived. He nodded at Victoria Hyde and Quincy Cambridge and found an empty spot against the wall. Several other rising stars had filled the seats. The caravan would provide the exposure he needed to land a role in his own strength and not because he was Mr. Lana Garfield. He’d always been surprised she hadn’t taken her last name back, but her first big roles had come during their short marriage.
“Robert, how are things?” Victoria’s soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.
He shook off the bad memories and studied the beautiful brunette. Her green eyes sparkled with intelligence and caring. “Just waiting for that next role.”
“It’ll come. Don’t worry.” When she said the words, he almost believed her.
“At least the caravan should be an experience.”
“I’m glad the studio released me.” She rolled her expressive eyes. “I wasn’t sure they wouldn’t create a reason to keep me here. I’m ready to get out and do my part.”
Robert felt small in light of her words. Here he was focused on exposure and launching into roles. Victoria truly seemed to have a sense of why they were going. “You deserve each piece of success you’re finding.”
Soft color tinged her cheeks. “You’re kind.” She shrugged. “I’m going to enjoy it while I have it. But face it, most of us don’t have Katherine Hepburn and Bette Davis’s staying power. I’ll be glad to entertain on celluloid as long as I can.”
The door bounced open and Artie breezed into the room, making his way to the desk. Before the door closed behind him, Lana blew in wrapped in a silver fox stole. Her electric beauty pulled all attention to her. She posed a moment with hand on her hip as she studied the room with casual indifference before moving to Artie’s desk.
“Here you go, doll.” He pulled his chair around for her, and she settled into it like a queen accepting her throne. Artie paused a moment as if waiting for thanks. He should know by now Lana’s vocabulary rarely used the word. Especially when it came to people she believed lived to serve her. Robert swallowed back the threatening bitterness. Keep my thoughts, Lord.
Artie pulled a different chair behind his desk, sank into it, and crossed his hands over his belly. He glanced around the room, seeming to take roll. “Everyone’s here. Good news—the plans for the caravan are well under way for you to leave Sunday.” He pulled a cigar from his desk drawer and clamped down without lighting it. “Bad news. The studios think they need more staff to shepherd you around the country. I tried to tell them you’re big kids, but they aren’t biting.”
Quincy cleared his throat. “What’s that mean for us?”
; “If we’re lucky, and they find someone fast, you’ll leave as scheduled. For some of you in this room”—he looked at Victoria—“that’s key. Any delay means you won’t be on the train. Each of you can benefit from going.”
“I don’t know why this is so important.” Lana rolled her eyes at Artie and examined her nails. “It won’t save your contract with me.”
Victoria shifted uncomfortably, while others focused away from Lana and Artie. Leave it to Lana to air her contract issues in front of everyone. Robert had heard she’d threatened to move to a different agency. Seemed now that her star was on the rise, she’d decided to trade up. Maybe it was a good career move, but Robert had to wonder what Artie thought. His personality was forceful enough to not like being played like that.
“Patriotism, baby. It’s all about doing your part.” Artie twirled the cigar through his fingers.
The Lester twins conferred in whispers. The two looked like peas in a pod—just like the Tarleton twins in Gone with the Wind, down to the curly red hair—except one had put on more weight than the other. Their comedy routine had been added to the line-up of one radio network, and they should bring some laughs to the audiences around the country. But would they be as good as Laurel and Hardy on the first caravan?
Well, it would be his job to make them seem as good.
“I’ve got the caravan contracts for you to sign. Goldie will give them to you before you leave.” Artie chomped on his cigar, seeming to have forgotten the thing wasn’t lit. “Make sure you stay where we can get a hold of you quickly in case things change on the fly.”
The door flew open, bouncing off Victoria’s chair.
“Sorry, boss, I tried to stop this woman.” Goldie smacked her gum and tried to snag a lady’s arm with her sharpened fingernails.
Robert stared at the gal when he realized who it was. Audra Schaeffer? What was she doing here? She stopped short when she looked around the room.
“Oh.” Her voice sounded small and uncertain.
“Who are you?” Artie’s lips curled down as he stared at her.
“Audra Schaeffer.”
“All right, everyone. Meeting’s over. Go see Goldie. Move it, move it.”
Lana stood first, staring at Audra before speaking over her shoulder to Artie. “Don’t think we’re through.”
The men scuttled from the room with sidelong glances at Audra. She stood as they streamed past her, her hair pulled back in a severe bun, no makeup on her face save a swipe of color on her lips. Her suit had a severe cut that did nothing to soften her look. He wished he could erase the events that had led to the purple shadows darkening the skin under her eyes.
Victoria eased to her feet, every inch a graceful star in the making. “I am so sorry to hear about Rosemary. I didn’t know her well, but she seemed like a swell gal.”
“Thank you.” Audra’s eyes teared, but she blinked quickly.
Robert stayed rooted in his spot. Maybe Artie would forget he was there, and Robert could make sure the older man didn’t bite off the poor gal’s head.
Artie studied her from behind his throne. “So you’re her sister. You weren’t much alike.”
“No.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Can you tell me more about my sister’s time here?”
“Nothing I didn’t tell the police.”
“Please. Somehow I have to explain this to my parents. And right now nothing makes sense.” Her chin trembled, and she took a deep breath. She glanced over and caught Robert’s gaze. Her back stiffened as if her body had been shocked. “Hello.”
“Audra, I’m sorry about Rosemary.” Robert tried to smile but felt it die at the thought of all she’d endured since landing in Hollywood. “I wish I could have helped you this weekend.”
“It must be fate she’s here now.” Artie rolled his eyes. He schooled his features and turned back to Audra. “Look, Miss Schaeffer, your sister did what a thousand aspiring actresses do. Anything they can to get an agent and then a role. It worked, too, because I had a contract offer to show Rosemary this week.”
“That’s all she’s ever wanted. I wish she’d known before she died.”
Artie crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “It is unfortunate.”
Audra collapsed into one of the vacant chairs shoved in front of the desk. Not sure what she was thinking, Robert slipped onto the chair next to her. At least he could let her know she wasn’t entirely alone in this terrible situation.
“So when are you headed back to Iowa or wherever you’re from?”
“Indiana. And I’m not leaving until I know what happened to Rosie.” A determined glint shone through the tears shimmering in her eyes. Robert had the odd desire to reach out and shelter her from the terrible turn of events.
“How do you think you’re going to do that, young lady? The police are on the job. I’m sure they’ll find the killer.”
“You really should listen to him, Audra.” Robert couldn’t stay silent. “What if something happens to you?”
“It won’t. I’m a nobody from Indiana who couldn’t harm anyone here.”
“Unless you get them sent to jail.”
“Well, I’m a long distance from that goal.” Her shoulders slumped and her voice got quieter. “But I will do this. I’ve always taken care of Rosie. And this time I failed. I won’t fail in finding who did this to her. If the police find him first, great. Then I can go home sooner.”
Artie studied her a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. He steepled his fingers in front of his chest. “So do you have a plan?”
“Beyond talking to you and others? I hope to spend time with people she knew.”
“That I can help you with.”
Robert stared at Artie. “You can?”
“Sure. You, young lady, may be exactly who we’ve waited for. How’d you like to spend three weeks on a train with many of Rosemary’s peers? Her rivals and friends will all be on that little ride.”
“Doing what?”
Robert shook his head and stood to his feet. What did Artie have up his sleeve? “This is a bad idea.”
“Why would you say that?” Audra turned to him, her face closed.
Artie smiled his Cheshire cat grin, the one that made him look like he’d eaten a prized canary. “What do you know about the Hollywood Victory Caravan?”
“I didn’t see it if that’s what you mean.” Audra worried a piece of lint on her skirt. “The closest it got to Indianapolis was Chicago.”
“They’re planning a second one.” Robert stilled her fingers and held her hand as he tried to stroke the cold from her fingers. “An entirely new group is going. The other night at the fundraiser was my audition to join the caravan.”
“That’s what your emceeing was about? A practice run?”
“Yes.”
“And the second caravan might be postponed if they don’t find the right woman to go along as chaperone and gopher for Mark.” Artie continued to stare at Audra in a way that left Robert disturbed. Something hid behind Artie’s decision that Audra should join the caravan. “It won’t be an easy job. The participants got a little crazy on the first one. You should hear some of the stories that came out of it.”
Robert studied Artie, uncomfortable with Artie’s quick decision that Audra should join the caravan. She didn’t understand the studio system or Hollywood. She didn’t know the actors and performers. His agent had to have an ulterior motive, but Robert had no idea what. Maybe it would be better to have Audra on the train with him where he could keep an eye on her rather than joining the caravan uncertain what would happen to her in the next three weeks. The idea she needed protection bothered him, but after what had happened to Rosemary, he couldn’t walk away without trying to keep an eye on her until she left.
“Then why would I go?”
“Maybe it would be a good idea for you after all.” Robert sucked in a breath and leaned toward her. “In addition to spending time with yours truly, you
’d get to investigate those your sister associated with to your heart’s content.” In a place that shouldn’t pose much of a threat to her either. And if she were on the train, he’d make sure nothing happened to her. Her parents had lost one daughter; he didn’t want them to lose the second from being headstrong and stubborn.
A shadow crossed over her face, weighing down her muscles. What would cause that? Robert jolted. Rosemary’s funeral. By asking her to join the caravan, they’d asked her to miss the funeral. “You can’t come.”
She looked at him, the slight movement seeming to take immense effort. She must think him crazy to keep changing his mind. “Why?”
“Rosemary’s funeral.”
The simple words clouded her eyes. “I should be there. But every time I imagine it, I see my brother’s funeral.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “I can’t—I just can’t do it.” A tear slipped down her cheek before she swiped it away.
She bowed her head as if praying. Artie tapped his fingers on his desktop, only stopping when Robert frowned at him. After a moment she looked up. “All right. I’ll do it. When do we leave?”
“In six days.” Artie grabbed his phone and bellowed into it. “Goldie, connect me with Mark Feldstein. Tell him I have the solution to his problems.” He slammed the phone down and considered Audra. “There you go, young lady. Hang around a bit, and we’ll get you squared away. If Mark says you’re in, you’re in.” He grinned at her in a predatory way. “And Mark always does what I tell him. So count on three weeks swaying across the country on a train.”
“Thank you.”
“Now go wait in the lobby. I’ve got work to do.” Artie selected a fresh cigar and jabbed it at Robert. “And you, get over to the studio pronto. We’ve got to get your screen test finished so we can get your contract signed before you leave. I want that signed yesterday.”
“Yes, sir.” The leap from screen test to contract was a big one, but Robert liked the sound of it. He was ready to move to marquee status and this role might do it. Add the exposure of the caravan, and his luck could be changing.
He offered Audra a hand and helped her to her feet. A tremor of connection shot up his arm. If she got on the caravan, they’d spend lots of time together. The thought stopped him as he opened the door. She looked at him quizzically, and he shook himself. He couldn’t believe his thoughts had headed in that direction.
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