“Huh.” Stella mulled that over. “And Divinity was better qualified for Mountain?”
Lexie huffed. “Well, not at all, except she looks good in a deerskin halter top, I guess.”
“I have to admit that I haven’t seen many of these type of things,” Stella said. “But don’t you have to have a certain set of skills?”
“They train you some. I mean, the promo tape doesn’t hurt at all, which was why Divinity has been practicing with the bow and arrow, and zip-lining and using a compass, she might as well have joined the Boy Scouts by now.”
“Let me ask you a hard question,” Stella said. “Were you jealous that Bryant, who you were involved with, went away alone with his ex-girlfriend, who you’ve said you don’t much care for in the first place?”
“Oh, no, ma’am,” Lexie said sincerely. “Bryant was saving the best ones for me. I’ve got an audition for The Bachelor coming up. If I got in the finals, it could totally break me out. I mean, compared to that, My Side of the Mountain—well, it’s not very dignified, is it?”
Stella tried to overlook the fact that the question had been asked by a woman with a green face and Pebbles Flintstone hairdo. “But you were seeing him, weren’t you?”
Lexie sighed. “Miz Smith, there’s something you have to understand about this business. We don’t really date date. I mean, not when we’re starting out. You have to make all these strategic alliances, right? I liked Bryant just fine, and we had fun when we were together, and we went to some events together. But he’s dated lots of his clients. I mean, it works for him, too, if you go on his website he’s got shots of him with all kinds of girls.”
“So that wasn’t… a source of tension between you and Divinity?”
“No, not that. It was more… well, see, Divinity and I were living together until last summer. But I couldn’t hardly stand it anymore. She’s just awful messy.”
Stella, who had seen a cockroach make his way along the countertop over a crusted pizza box, kept her face neutral. “You’re saying her housekeeping skills…”
“Terrible! Just awful! It got so I was embarrassed to have friends over. Also she kept borrowing my clothes without asking and she used my makeup all the time and wore the points down on all my eyeliner.”
Stella, whose own house during her married years was so clean that you could have diapered a baby on the kitchen floor or eaten oatmeal out of the bathroom sinks, wondered what exactly was going to happen to this generation of girls, who seemed to have acquired almost no household skills. She supposed that she and all the other mothers of her generation were to blame, doting as they had on their offspring. Stella had made Noelle’s bed, cooked her meals, done her laundry, and vacuumed her bedroom for the first eighteen years of her life. But in that regard, as in so many others, Noelle had surprised her, emerging into adulthood a competent housekeeper and an enthusiastic cook. Maybe it was only a matter of time before Divinity caught up, too.
“How old are you, anyway?” she asked, on a whim.
Lexie frowned. “I guess you can find out anyway, but don’t tell, please. I’ll be thirty-one next May, but my official bio says I’m twenty-three.”
“My heavens!” Stella exclaimed. “Well, it’s a cruel business you’re in, if you ask me.”
“I know. I never expected to spend my best years like this,” Lexie said sorrowfully, glancing around her cramped apartment at the glittery costumes that looked a little limp and sad in the bright light of day.
“Oh, honey,” Stella said, knowing she ought to maintain her professional distance, but her maternal instincts trumping her common sense. “These aren’t your best years. Not by a long shot. I promise you, if you work hard and always remember to be yourself, your best years are ahead of you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Since Lexie hadn’t turned out to be much of a suspect, Stella decided to take a chance and swung by the jail on her way back to the resort to take another crack at Divinity. Tilly had gone to get takeout, which Stella figured was probably more about getting away from her sister for a while. Marty had just got back from sending a fax at the FedEx office, and despite the fact that they had the heat on in the waiting room, he hovered near the window without taking off his trench coat or driving gloves, while Stella and his wife talked. His part was crooked, as if he’d walked out of the motel without combing his hair. Meanwhile, Taffy was knitting a scarf that already looked like it was twice as long as any normal human could make use of. The vigil was starting to get the best of them, and Stella felt a little sorry for them.
“Hello, Stella,” Marty said morosely.
“How are you holding up, Marty?”
“Okay, I guess. Got a buyer on the hook for a six-bedroom colonial that’s been sitting—trying to get them approved.”
“Huh. I mean where Divinity’s concerned, actually,” Stella said gently.
“Oh. Well, shook up, I guess. You know how it is.”
“Nice of you to visit,” Taffy said coolly, “since you couldn’t bother to use your special influence to help poor Divinity.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Stella said.
“Well, with you and the sheriff being so cozy, I would have thought you might be able to put in a word with these cretins.”
Stella glanced down the hall to the interior offices, where she glimpsed the receptionist from the other day peering over a magazine with a young woman in a Quail Valley patrol uniform.
“What did they, uh…”
“Well, it says visiting hours are ten to noon and five to seven,” Taffy said, pointing to a sign affixed over the reception desk, “but seeing as Divinity’s the only one back there other than some drunk they picked up, and all they have to do is sit around on their asses all day, I don’t see what it would cost them to let me go back and sit with my poor little girl.”
“Hmm.” Stella, who knew that in these small-town lockups, exceptions were the rule, depending on the relationships those being held had with the staff and visitors, figured that what was more likely was that Divinity had suggested that the guards could keep her mother out of her sight for just as long as they liked. “Well, let me see what I can do. But, Taffy, you have to know that I don’t have any special kind of relationship with anyone.”
“Really?” Taffy said, raising one eyebrow. “ ’Cause word is that you’ve been playing your sheriff against a gentleman who keeps a saloon.” She said the word gentleman as though it were a synonym for excrement.
“Huh,” Stella said. “Funny the crazy rumors that get passed around.”
She turned her back on Marty and Taffy and headed for the reception desk, clearing her throat.
“Yes, ma’am?” the young officer said politely.
“Oh, Divinity didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“I’m here for an emergency visit. I’m her OA sponsor.”
“OA? What’s that?”
“Overeaters Anonymous? You know, the twelve-step program?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t heard of that, ma’am. She sure looks awful skinny, though.”
Stella nodded sagely. “Oh, I know, she looks great now. But you should have seen her a couple of years ago—topped the scales at three hundred pounds.”
“You don’t say!” The young woman cast an astonished look back toward the door to the cells. Stella squinted at her nametag: Officer J. Pinkerton.
“Oh, yes, she’s very sensitive about it. You know how she can get a little testy sometimes?”
“Gracious, yes,” Officer Pinkerton said in a heartfelt tone. Stella could only imagine the abuse she’d suffered from Divinity.
“Well, she does that when she’s feeling vulnerable, and she can’t get access to her usual self-comforts. Why, I’ve seen her eat a dozen tacos from Taco Bell in one sitting. She’ll shoot Cheez Whiz straight o
ut of the can when she’s really struggling. It’s a self-protection response. I’m working with her on overcoming it, actually. And I was wondering… I know this is irregular, and I’d certainly be happy to come back tomorrow if necessary, but do you think I could have just a few words with her? In private?”
Officer Pinkerton blinked. Stella could practically see her weighing the infraction against suffering more of Divinity’s bad mood.
“I think we could swing that,” she said in a low voice. “I mean, maybe it would be best if, you know, Officer Simmons didn’t find out about it. But she’s off interviewing the head ranger over at the park right now so it should be okay. And her boys aren’t in today, they got the weekend off.”
“I’ll be quick, I promise,” Stella said. “I’m just going to pray with her a little, and maybe talk her down a bit.”
In no time Officer Pinkerton had dragged a chair up to Divinity’s cell and excused herself, leaving Stella alone with a very disgruntled young woman as well as the only other resident, a drunk man who was lying on the floor of his cell humming in a surprisingly sweet voice.
“Okay, I’m going to make this fast,” Stella said.
“Whatever,” Divinity said, examining her nails under the fluorescent lights. “Mom got me some lawyer who’ll have me out of here soon. And then we’re going to sue everyone.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Stella said, her temper already piqued. She didn’t bother pointing out that the lawyer had come courtesy of her, a favor she figured she’d pass out holding her breath to be thanked for. “Given the state of the county budget, that ought to get you a hot dog and a root beer.”
“I’ll have a beer,” the drunk called out hopefully.
Divinity sighed. “Unless you’re here to tell me that The Bachelor called, I’m afraid I’m a little tired, and I would prefer to be alone. Not to be rude.”
“Huh. And yet your poor mama is out there, sitting on a vinyl couch and drinking machine coffee, just hoping for a chance to see your face. Don’t that make you feel bad?”
“Would you want to be stuck in an eight-by-eight room forced to listen to my mother with no way to escape?” Divinity demanded.
“Point taken. Okay, like I said, we don’t have a lot of time here. I know about the audition tape y’all were making out in the woods. Where is it?”
Divinity stared at Stella, the wheels turning behind her icy blue eyes. “I would be interested to know how you found out about that,” she finally said.
“And I’d be interested in getting my hands on Gary Oldman’s phone number, but neither of those is very likely to happen.”
“What do you care, anyway?”
Stella’s patience was close to snapping. “Honestly? I don’t care much what happens to you. You were a spoiled, wrinkly little baby who grew up into a spoiled girl who doesn’t seem to care about anyone else. I’d leave you here to rot, except my best friend is getting married and it’s very important to her that your parents be there, which is another mystery, but I guess she’s got her reasons. Meanwhile, my assistant had a brush with misfortune last night that I am not about to stand for. Someone killed Bryant, and that someone seems bent on keeping it a secret. The fact you’re in here lets you off the hook, but you can bet I’m not leaving until I’ve found out what I want to know.”
Divinity’s mouth twisted into a not-very-nice smile that Stella recognized from her publicity photos. “And how exactly are you going to get me to tell you? All I have to do is holler and that girl cop will come running. I’ve got everyone around here eating out of my hand.”
Stella didn’t bother to point out that the staff was acting out of a sense of self-preservation rather than any sort of affection for Divinity. Instead, she closed her eyes for a moment, took a few calming breaths, and forced a smile on her face.
“Honey, I feel like we got going in a wrong direction there. Really, I just want what your mom wants, which is to clear this up and get you out of here. But I can tell you’re tired. You need your rest. I can respect that. I’ll just be going, and maybe if you’re feeling better tomorrow I can come back and visit again. But here, sweetie, at least I can give you something to pass the time.”
She reached into her purse for the novel she carried with her everywhere, in case she found herself stuck in line with nothing to do. It had come in handy at doctors’ offices, carpool lanes, and the Walmart checkout at the holidays. This particular one was by the fabulous J. D. Robb, pen name of her most favorite author in the world, Nora Roberts.
She handed it through the bars of the cell, but when Divinity reached for it, Stella dropped it and grabbed her wrist. Then she executed a maneuver she’d learned from Mr. Hou that involved using her own weight as leverage to twist it backward and up, and in seconds Divinity’s face was as white as a sheet and she was on her knees, attempting to scream.
There are certain kinds of pain so sharp and immediate that they take your breath away. Stella had been the victim of such pain, so she knew she had only seconds before Divinity got hold of herself and started to scream.
“Make a sound and I’ll break your wrist,” Stella said. “I’ll tell them you done it to yourself in a fit of remorse. Who you think they’re gonna believe, a nice friend of your mom’s or a stuck-up skinny little bitch with a voice like George Michael on helium?”
Tears were forming in Divinity’s eyes, and her face was turning from white to purple.
“Now nod your head that you understand me, and I’ll loosen up here. I’m not going to let go, though, and if you don’t tell me what I want to know, I can separate your radiocarpal joint in two seconds flat.”
Divinity nodded energetically, and Stella relaxed her grip.
“Get up now, honey,” she said, and with a minimum of protest Divinity got to her feet, and they stood eye to eye, holding hands like teenagers on a date.
“What really happened? Big picture’s fine, you can save the details for the biopic when you get famous someday.”
Divinity ignored Stella’s snide rejoinder and spoke fast, all the attitude absent from her voice. “Bryant had me climb up in a tree. He was filming. He has this little minicam he uses. I was supposed to be shooting rabbits. Well, there weren’t any rabbits, but I was shooting arrows into this bush.”
“With your little pink girlie bow.”
Divinity blinked. “How’d you know that?”
“Well, you were dumb enough to pick the worst hiding place in the woods. Even these fuckups were able to find it, and that’s saying something.”
“I was dazed from the fall!” Divinity protested. “I couldn’t think straight, I had a concussion!”
“Keep talking.”
“Bryant was filming, and he was giving me all these directions, do this and do that and find my light and don’t let leaves block the view and I could hardly focus. I hadn’t shot any arrows at all and I was trying to figure out how to bring my arm back without running into a branch. Anyway all of a sudden he lets out this yell and scared me so bad I fell out of the tree. I didn’t mean to kill him, Stella, I really didn’t, but I must have let go of the arrow while I was falling, because when I woke up from being knocked out there he was dead with it sticking out of him.”
Stella stared incredulously. The girl actually believed she’d killed Bryant. “You… shot him?”
“Well, yeah, how else do you think he ended up dead? Anyway, you can’t blame me for being scared and all confused, I mean, I’m pretty sure if those idiots in the hospital knew what they were doing they would have found signs of severe disorientation or whatever you call it. And Bryant was dead and I’m really sorry about that but it wasn’t like there was anything I could do for him except get help so they could come collect him. And I knew they’d never understand how it was an accident and all so, yeah, I hid the bow and then I just kept walking until I found that ranger.” She frowned in
distaste. “Also a moron, and he didn’t smell too good either.”
“Well,” Stella said. “Huh. Okay. Listen here. Your attorney’s going to tell you the same thing, but you need to keep all of this to yourself.”
“I know that, Stella, I’m not stupid.”
“I want you to just sit tight and don’t say anything at all. No more bossing the staff around. No more demanding special privileges. And just to make sure they don’t get the wrong idea, you be nice to your parents and aunt.”
Divinity rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to—”
Stella jerked up on her wrist. The cartilage shifted, making a little popping sound that Stella could feel more than hear, and Divinity’s breath left her in a pained whoosh.
“We got an understanding?” Stella demanded, tugging just a little harder. “I said, are you going to behave?”
Divinity nodded even more vigorously than she had before, and Stella let go. She patted the girl’s cheek and smiled. “Good girl.”
On her way out, she glanced at the title of the paperback on the floor.
Betrayal in Death.
Chapter Fifteen
By the time Stella got back to the resort, the autumn sun had warmed the interior of the Jeep until she had to shrug out of her sweater and roll the windows down. It felt good to have a breeze in her hair, and she drove past the golf course with her hand trailing in the wind.
Then she spotted Goat. It was hard to miss him, since he stood several inches taller than Leif and two other unremarkable men on their way back to the clubhouse, their bags trailing. Stella had always been dubious of men who rode in carts—her own father, Buster Collier, had carried his own clubs the few times a year that he went out on the links. He’d never gotten bit by the bug, but he did occasionally take Stella and her sister, Gracellen, down to the range, where they’d hit a bucket of balls, few of them going in the direction they were aiming.
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