She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m part Roma … gypsy, you’d call it. Plus, I’m an actress. So I’m a drama queen and I’m hot-blooded.’’
Everybody chuckled. Even if the laughter was more forced than genuine, it let me off the hook. I felt sorry for Kelly. Her story was heartrending. But that didn’t mean I didn’t still suspect her. If anything, what she’d just revealed gave her a compelling motive for murder.
Breaking off a tiny nibble of the half-brownie Sam brought, Kelly announced they needed to leave. Maddie at least waited until they were halfway to the door before she helped herself to the leftover sweet.
“Normally I don’t approve of cursing, but Kelly was right when she called that awful man a bastard. Sam seems nice, though.’’ She popped the brownie into her mouth.
“I wonder if my boss, Rhonda, would like him?’’ I looked across the table at Marty. “What do you think, sister? Ohmigod, don’t tell me I’m becoming a matchmaker, like Mama!’’
Marty’s gaze followed the movie star and her friend, making their way to the exit. “Your boss might be smart and beautiful, Mace, but that wouldn’t matter to Sam. He’s already in love, with Kelly.’’
“Well, it’s not reciprocated,’’ I said, recalling the conversation between Kelly and Tilton.
“Doesn’t matter,’’ Maddie said. “There’s no passion like unrequited love. Sam would go to any lengths to make Kelly care for him like he cares for her.’’
As Maddie’s words echoed in my head, I remembered how Kelly’s pain showed on Sam’s face. How he worried when she was hungry. How he was ready with a shoulder or a tissue when she cried.
How far would he go to make all Kelly’s problems go away?
_____
“Maddie, please get your fork out of my dessert plate. I’m still eating.’’ Marty pulled her pie closer to her body, shielding it like a prison inmate with the crook of her left elbow.
We’d extended lunch, waiting for the storm to play itself out. I listened to the last drops of rain drizzling down on the roof of the tent. Suddenly, Sal stomped in through a side entry. It looked like all the day’s dark clouds had found their way onto his face.
Mama ran to keep up, trailing him in full costume as Ruby. She wore a towering red wig. Her red satin dress featured a big skirt and a breathtakingly tight bodice. A cameo pendant was cradled in the deep crevice of her cleavage.
“Don’t you want me to be happy, Sally?’’ Catching up, she tugged at his wrist. He didn’t answer, just shook her off like an elephant evicting a gnat.
Mama’s voice cracked. “Sally, please don’t be mad at me. I can’t take it.’’ Her eyes glistened with tears.
Sal stopped. He turned toward his trembling bride. At our table, Maddie made the sign of a fishing pole, reeling him in.
“Snagged like a speckled perch,’’ I agreed.
“Hush, they’ll hear you,’’ Marty warned.
“Look at that,’’ Maddie said. “Mama even looks pretty when she cries. If that was me, my eyes would be all puffy and as red as her dress.’’
“Ruby’s dress,’’ I said. “But I know what you mean. My nose would be dripping like a snot faucet by now. And I’d look like Rudolph, lighting the way for Santa’s sleigh.’’
I pushed back my chair. “I’m getting some more coffee. Anyone want anything?’’
Marty shook her head. Maddie said, “Bring me one of those big muffins with the cinnamon crust on top, would you?’’
She caught the glance I stole at her plate. A single smear of meringue and just one crumb from Kelly’s brownie remained.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take the muffin home and save it for breakfast.’’
“Sure you will.’’
“No bickering, you two,’’ Marty said. “I’m trying to eavesdrop on Sal and Mama.’’
I had less interest in that endeavor than Marty did. I’d seen the Sal and Rosalee Show, and this was yet another rerun. I made my way to the serving area.
I loaded Maddie’s muffin on a tray, and was at the condiment table, adding sugar and cream to my coffee, when I glanced to the side of the tent. The show was still in progress. Sal had enfolded Mama in a big bear hug. He was now comforting her. Sniffling, she snuggled into his protective embrace. I imagined a critic’s summation of this familiar, two-character play.
Outcome: predictable. Ending: clichéd. Plot: visible from a mile away.
As my gaze lingered on Sal and Mama, I became aware of the sound of someone beside me, breathing. I jumped. It was Barbara.
“You scared me,’’ I said. “Where’d you come from?’’
Her eyes didn’t leave Sal and Mama. “I want you to deliver a message,’’ she said. “Tell your floozy of a mother that Paul Watkins is my man, and I’m not fond of sharing.’’
“Really?’’ I said. “I wonder what Paul’s wife, Savannah, would say about that?’’
“Why don’t you ask her? She’ll tell you somebody could get hurt crossing Barbara Sydney.’’
With that, Barbara grabbed a long, serrated knife from the dessert table. She poked at the muffin I’d chosen for Maddie, flipping it onto its side. Then she cleanly sliced off the cinnamon crumb top, and dropped the decapitated pastry on the floor at my feet.
I had a gentle Quarter horse saddled and ready. The horse stomped a foot, shivered, and shook all over. Jesse backpedaled so fast her boots kicked up splatters of mud in the corral.
“Is it angry?’’
“Only at that horsefly.’’ I waved a hand to shoo the insect. “That’s what horses do when they’re trying to stop it from stinging.’’
“Does it mind if I get on?’’
“His name’s Zeke; and honestly, he’ll pay less mind to you climbing on his back than he does to that horsefly.’’
She took a few tentative steps in Zeke’s direction. Her eyes traveled from the ground up to the saddle. “I’m not sure I can do it.’’
“All that working out you do at the gym? You should be able to haul yourself up onto his back with no problem.’’ I demonstrated. “See? You always mount from the left. Foot in the stirrup. Hand on the horn. Then swing your right leg over his rump. It’s kind of like getting on a motorcycle.’’
“Motorcycles don’t bite.’’
“Neither will Zeke. He’s very well trained.’’ I swung down out of the saddle again, and stood on the ground. “Your turn.’’
She backed up. “I have to confess something, Mace. This is the closest I’ve ever been to a real, live horse.’’
Her voice was small, scared. All her swagger was gone. It was the first time Jesse had seemed vulnerable. Human.
“I really needed this role, so I lied about being a good rider to get it. I should have been practicing, but every time I got near a horse, I chickened out. They’re so big.’’
Her voice shook, like she might start crying. I actually felt sorry for her. “Don’t worry,’’ I told her. “I’m right here, and we’ll take it slow.”
“I really appreciate you agreeing to do this, Mace. I know you don’t approve of me.’’
“Don’t mention it.’’ I waved a hand, purposely ignoring the approval part. “I just want to make sure nobody gets hurt around the horses.’’
I clutched Zeke’s reins, extending my other hand to Jesse. She inched toward me, and I gently took her wrist. “You put your hand out flat, palm down, and let him sniff at the back.’’ I turned her hand over. “That’s how he gets to know you.’’
After she let Zeke get her smell, I guided her hand all along the horse’s neck, down to the chest. “Don’t pat. Stroke. And give him a good scratch there, in the middle of his chest. He can’t reach that spot, so he’ll appreciate it.’’
By the time we’d worked our way all the way back to his rump, under his belly, and up his neck again, Zeke was totally relaxed. Jesse was getting there. I had her ball her fist and gently stroke his muzzle. “See how soft that nose is? Like velvet,’’ I said. “Now
, feel those stubbly whiskers.’’
A smile spread across her face. The horse rubbed his head against her chest. “See? He likes you,’’ I said. “Which figures, since Zeke is a male.’’
Jesse’s face went pink. “I know my reputation. It’s not fair. Guys who hook up with a lot of girls are studs. If a girl does the exact same thing, everyone calls her a slut.’’
“Yeah, well welcome to the world, Jesse. Life’s not fair.’’
“You can say that again.’’
When she was ready, I helped her into the saddle. “You’re going to do great. We won’t go far; and you and Zeke are already old friends.’’
I adjusted her stirrups, and then handed her the reins. “Don’t hold them too tight, but don’t let them drop, either. We’ll ride out together, and I’ll show you what I mean.’’
I mounted one of the other horses, and we set off at a slow walk. Jesse watched closely, mimicking everything I did. Now that she was more comfortable with the horse, she was a fast learner.
“You can talk to him, you know. Lean over and give him a scratch now and then.’’
She ran a hand along his neck, under the mane. “You’re a good horse, Zeke.’’ At just that moment, he bobbed his head up and down. Jesse’s laugh was pure girlish delight. “Look, he agrees with me!’’
We rode for a short distance on a rutted path through open pasture, until we came to a fork that led to a hardwood hammock. “Those big trees are so pretty,’’ Jesse said. “Is it safe to ride through there?’’
“Sure, that bit of woods runs between the base camp and the parking lot.’’ I turned my horse toward the fork, and Jesse followed. The tree-shaded path was wide enough for us to ride two abreast. “That’s a live oak,’’ I pointed toward an ancient specimen, weeping with Spanish moss. “See how its branches grow almost sideways like that? It’s like they’re reaching out to touch all of nature around them.’’
“Cool,’’ she said. “I can see that. The limbs are spread out almost as wide as the tree is tall.’’
I pointed out a couple more things—ground the wild hogs had torn up, digging for roots and bugs with their snouts; a hawk soaring on an air current in a now-clear sky. Mostly, we kept a companionable silence, with me offering words of encouragement or gentle correction. Jesse’s horseback scene was scheduled to be filmed in two more days. That wasn’t much time to bring her skill level to where it needed to be. But I decided not to mention my misgivings to her.
“Is Toby a good rider?’’ I asked.
She shrugged. “Not as good as Greg Tilton, but I think he’s okay.’’
After all the rain, the sky was a washed out blue. Afternoon sun filtered through the trees that grew close to the path, warming my back. Leather creaked. The horses snuffled. A woodpecker drummed against the bark of a slash pine. It was as good a time as any to bring up the subject I wanted to raise with Jesse.
“You know, Toby really seems to like you.’’
She stared at the horn of her saddle, tracing a circle on the top with her thumb.
“Do you like him?’’ I asked.
She nodded, but didn’t raise her eyes to meet mine. “I’m not ready to settle down, though. I just turned twenty-one. Toby’s even younger. I don’t even know who I am yet. I don’t want to be half of some ridiculous Hollywood couple: Jesby. Tobee. J-To. I’m my own person, you know.’’
I watched her, hoping she’d raise her head so I could read her expression. That’s when I noticed Zeke’s ears prick forward. Seconds later, I heard the sound, too. Something loud crashed toward us through the woods. Zeke startled, sidestepping quickly away from the noise. Jesse, clutching the saddle’s horn like a life preserver, shrieked in fear.
“Stay calm,’’ I said quietly. “Just hold on to Zeke’s reins and run your hand along his neck. He just hears something, is all. You reassure him. You’re both okay.’’
Jesse did as I told her, and the horse was fine. But the noise kept coming our way. We both peered into the trees. “What is it, Mace? Are there grizzly bears here?’’
A moment later, Toby stumbled onto the sandy path ahead of us. Blood covered his face. His clothes were dirty and torn. Silently, he reached a hand in our direction, and then collapsed in a heap on the ground.
Toby struggled to stand. He staggered, and fell again.
I swung down from my saddle. Jesse leapt straight off Zeke, leaving the horse’s reins hanging. She’d barely hit the ground before she started running to Toby. I grabbed the reins of both horses and followed.
Toby had managed to hoist himself to a sitting position. He watched, looking dazed, as we approached. He was filthy. Leaves clung to his hair, normally so flawless. Scratches crisscrossed his face. Dirt streaked the back of his torn shirt. Both knees of his jeans were stained.
“Someone tried to run me down in the parking lot.’’ He put a hand to his head, and it came away red with blood. “I think I’m hurt.’’
Jesse performed a quick check, peering into his hair to see the source of the oozing blood. She looked up at me. “Scalp wound …”
“It hurts, Jess …”
“… bloody, but not deep.’’
She studied his pupils, checking for brain injury or shock. Lifting the torn shirt gently off his body, she surveyed his bare chest and back for evidence of other wounds. Toby’s voice was weak, but he kept talking:
“I was running away, but I tripped and fell. When I felt the asphalt, I kept rolling. I came to a stop in a muddy ditch.’’ He gingerly fingered his bloodied hair. “I think I smacked my head on a rock.’’
“So the car didn’t hit you?’’ she asked.
He shook his head, wincing in pain.
“Can you stand up?’’ I asked him. “We’ll get you up on one of the horses and take you to the medical trailer.’’
Still holding both sets of reins in one hand, I extended the other to Toby. Jesse did the same. Together, we pulled him to his feet.
“Can you walk?’’ she asked.
He tested his weight on one leg, and then the other. He grimaced. “I must have hurt the same knee that got smacked at the bar.’’
She leaned down to feel for swelling. “How bad’s the pain, scale of one to five?”
“Two, maybe,’’ he said.
“You’ll probably live.’’ Jesse grinned at him. “But I think we should get you to the medic, just to be safe.’’
“I don’t want to live if I can’t have you.’’
Her forehead wrinkled. “Very funny, Toby. What film is that line from?’’
“It’s not from a movie. I mean it. You realize what’s important when you’re hiding in a ditch, wondering if somebody’s going to make a U-turn and come back to try and kill you.’’ He stroked her cheek. “I love you, Jess. I want us to be a couple, for real.’’
Jesse cut her eyes toward me. I pretended to be studying the ground.
“No response?’’ Toby searched her face, looking for an answer he didn’t seem to find.
It was so quiet, I could hear the horses swishing their tails. Still, he stared at her. I coughed quietly, and then cleared my throat. I wanted to ask another question. “Did you see what kind of car it was?’’
He couldn’t tear his eyes from Jesse, even though she gazed indifferently into the trees.
“The car?’’ I prodded.
Finally, he looked at me. “It was white, or at least light in color.’’ His voice was thick with hurt. I was pretty sure it wasn’t from the physical injuries. “I’m not sure what kind. It might even have been a truck, or a van. It happened so fast.’’
“What about the driver?’’
“Big hat. Sun was glinting off the windshield. I couldn’t tell who was behind the wheel. Sorry.’’
So the vehicle was possibly white, like half the movie company’s rental fleet. And the driver might have been a man; or maybe a woman. He, or possibly she, was young … or maybe old. Carlos was going to love getting this repo
rt.
We were about to help Toby onto my horse to take him to the medical trailer when we heard another crash in the brush. It was followed by a string of curses. Barbara emerged, yanking spider webs from her face.
“There you are, Toby!’’ Her tone was scolding, until she seemed to register that her star client was bruised and bloodied and leaning on Jesse.
“Ohmigod, what happened?’’ She rushed to push Jesse out of the way.
“I’ve got him, Barbara,’’ Jesse said. “He had an accident. It doesn’t look serious.’’
“An accident?’’ She cupped Toby’s face, looking into his eyes. She touched the blood staining his brow. “My poor baby!’’
He tried to jerk his head away. “Somebody tried to run over me in the parking lot. Don’t worry. I survived. Your fifteen percent is safe.’’
Barbara dropped her hand from his face like she’d touched a hot stove. She looked stunned, crushed by his cruel words. Then again, she had been an actress way back when.
“You didn’t happen to see anything, did you?’’ I asked her.
She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?’’
I shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Toby didn’t see who almost hit him. Maybe you noticed somebody burning rubber out of the parking lot.’’
“I was nowhere near there. I was in Toby’s trailer, waiting for him, until one of the production assistants told me Toby was headed into town. I was on my way to check to see if his car was gone, when I got lost trying to take the shortcut to the parking lot.’’
I was going to follow up, try to find out how Barbara came to be around each of the locations where someone had been hurt, when a shout sounded from the trail: “Hey, is Sam with you guys? We were supposed to go to dinner, but he stood me up. I can’t find him anywhere.’’
Kelly Conover stood in the path, shading her eyes and looking in our direction. When I answered that we hadn’t seen Sam, she hurried on her way toward the parking area. Not even a backward glance. How typical. She didn’t notice Toby’s disheveled state; it didn’t directly concern her.
I helped Jesse onto Zeke, and then got on my horse, so Toby could ride double behind me. Helping to pull him up, it occurred to me Toby moved pretty well for someone who’d just taken a bad tumble into a ditch.
Mama Sees Stars: A Mace Bauer Mystery Page 11