Riverstar

by Tess Thompson

  Life, that’s what, she thought. Hard most of the time with small moments of bliss. She shook her head, as if to dispel the gloomy thoughts. A drink. She needed a drink. She left Ben sleeping and headed to the main house.

  ***

  A few minutes later, Bella stood with Peter Ball on the deck of Drake’s house, sipping vodka on the rocks. He held a beer bottle in his hands, peeling at the label. The rain had ceased and the clouds parted to reveal a partial moon and scattered stars. It was cold, and their breath made clouds in the night air. Bella shivered despite her heavy jacket. She’d lived in California too long.

  “After dinner on a night like this, I miss smoking,” said Bella, shaking her glass so the ice clattered.

  “You smoked?” asked Peter.

  “Yeah. For like two minutes before I got too vain, worried about wrinkles and stopped. But every once in a while I want one.”

  They were quiet for a moment. Bella sipped her drink. Peter tipped back his beer. There was the rushing sound of a truck on the highway in the valley below. Something about the sound always made Bella feel lonesome. Perhaps it was the thought of the truck driver, alone, making his way to wherever with his company’s goods in the back. Was he sleepy? Lonesome for his family? Did he listen to music or talk radio?

  She glanced back up at the stars. They were the same for the truck driver as they were for her and thousands of others who might be gazing upon them at this very moment.

  “Bella, you sure Ben didn’t do this?”

  Her thoughts turned from the stars to Ben. “I am. Aren’t you?”

  “I’m not a betting man. I’m more of a fact guy. Comes with my job. But if I had to bet on anyone’s innocence, it’s Ben Fleck’s.”

  “How are you so sure?”

  “Gut, mostly. I’m a good judge of character. Can sniff out the truth usually. Plus it doesn’t add up. No motive. Unless he raped her and didn’t want her to talk.”

  A jolt went through her. The tips of her fingers tingled. “No way.”

  “Ben will have to go in tomorrow and give a DNA sample.”

  “Well, that’ll prove his innocence, right there.”

  He turned to her, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. “You sure about that?”

  “Yes.” They stood for a moment, watching the stars. “Peter, will you let me ride shotgun with you on this?”

  “What do you mean? Like help me investigate?”

  “Right.” She felt stupid suddenly. This was a real detective. He wouldn’t want her tagging along.

  “You think you have time?”

  “I can squeeze it in. I won’t say anything or get in your way. And I know my way around town. That would be a help to you.”

  “Why, Bella?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to do this?’

  “Because I love him. It’s as simple as that.” As she said it, she knew it was true. She’d loved Benjamin Fleck from the first moment she’d spotted him in her brother’s living room.

  “Okay, then. We’ll start tomorrow. At Lefty’s. Always start with the bartender.”

  The door opened behind them and Cleo came out to the deck. “Hi, Bella,” she said softly, seeming almost shy. “What are you two doing out here?” she asked, sliding both arms around Peter’s waist from behind and resting her cheek against his back. “It’s freezing.”

  “It is,” said Peter. “Hey, I’m going to go inside and have some scotch with Drake.” He paused, nudging his wife slightly. “Go ahead, ask Bella the stuff you wanted to ask her.”

  Cleo pulled her jacket tighter. “Yeah, okay.”

  After Peter left, Bella turned to Cleo. “You nervous about tomorrow?”

  “I’m a wreck. It’s been so long. And being in the same room with Stefan and Genevieve tonight I realized how screwed I am—they’re pros and I haven’t really acted in ten years. Not to mention taking the place of poor Tiffany Archer. I want to turn around and go home.”

  “You’ll be fine. I’ll make you look perfect.”

  Cleo laughed. “Yeah, there’s that too. My God, Genevieve’s gorgeous. The camera doesn’t lie, does it?”

  Bella looked at her for a moment. “You know what I’ve noticed in the years I’ve been doing this job?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Women never think they’re beautiful. And trust me I’ve worked on the most beautiful women in the world by anyone’s standard and none of them think they’re half as lovely as they really are. And what’s even sadder is the rest of the world is comparing themselves to the women in my makeup chair. If they don’t think they’re beautiful there’s absolutely no hope for the rest of us.” She paused, cocking her head to the side, taking in Cleo Tanner. “You’re as lovely as Gennie, just different.”

  “Hollywood.” Cleo looked up at the sky, shaking her head. “I can’t even get my mind around that. Yesterday I’m teaching Montessori and looking forward to going home to Peter at the end of the day. Next thing I know I get a call from my agent that I need to get down here as fast as I can. And there’s this script waiting for me, like I’m a real actress or something and I have lines to learn and, well, I’m terrified.”

  Bella squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there to talk to between takes. That’s what good makeup artists do. We’re like bartenders that way.”

  Cleo laughed. “Good to know.”

  “Who’s your agent?”

  “Camille Bradbury. Graham hooked me up with her.”

  Bella shivered. Camille Bradbury was a shark in a well-preserved, fifty-year-old, human form—a tiny body that lived on vodka and cigarettes. Behind the Botox that made her features unreadable and sleek, precisely-cut, bottle-blond hair was the soul of a great white shark that could rip a person apart and leave them bleeding on the urine-scented streets of Hollywood in the time it took to order a skinny latte from the nearest Starbuck’s barista/actress.

  Cleo stomped her feet and pulled her jacket tighter. “They always say you’re truly living if you’re doing something that scares you. I guess I’m about as alive as you can get.”

  Yes, me too, thought Bella.

  After Cleo went inside, Bella wandered to the edge of the deck. She sat on the steps looking up at the sky. The countless peppered stars glittered and sparkled and felt close. Might she gather them in her hands? Perhaps put them in a Mason jar to draw upon later for strength like children did with fireflies back east? On that summer night with Ben, standing near the rose garden, they’d held hands and gazed upward at the Milky Way. He’d pointed to the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, and Orion’s Belt. And she’d known then she’d never seen the sky. Not in Seattle where the clouds rarely moved aside and one only suspected the stars were there, hidden, waiting for a shift in the wind. Not in Los Angeles where the lights of the city and the pollution scarred an obscured sky. But here, they were close and tangible and splendid. She’d gasped from the beauty of it and moved closer to Ben, the scent of sun-drenched rose petals sweet, and leaned into him to welcome his kiss that changed her heart.

  And now, under this October sky holding these flecks and slivers of light, she sighed. A sense of peace that began in her changed heart soothed the hidden dark places where fear and worry dwelled, as if the stars had been conjured just for her by a nameless force. All will be well. Surely this was true, she thought, reaching up toward the sky with her fingertips. It gave one the idea of limitless possibilities, if the universe held such things as this.

  ***

  Inside the house, Drake and Annie were putting away the last of the dinner dishes. “I was thinking I should let Cleo and Peter have the guest quarters in the house. I’ll move out to the guesthouse with Ben,” said Bella.

  “Isn’t that a little soon?” Drake looked at her, his face concerned, although he was trying to hide it, which Bella found amusing.

  Bella shrugged, ready for a fight. “You need the space. And Peter’s doing us a favor by agreeing to look into this unofficial
ly while Cleo’s working on Stone River.”

  To her surprise, Drake agreed. “You’re right. We’re lucky to have him investigating this when he has no jurisdiction here, especially given the obvious ineptitude of the local police. I’ll let Peter and Cleo know to bring in their things.”

  Bella packed her clothes and toiletry items quickly, feeling suddenly so exhausted she could barely think straight. In the guesthouse, she left her suitcase packed, setting it quietly by the bureau so as not to wake Ben. She brushed her teeth and washed her face and then, stripping down to nothing, slipped into bed. Ben shifted, murmuring something in his sleep. She moved close to him, pressing her cold backside against his front and wrapping his arm around her waist.

  “Bella, you feel so good in my bed,” he whispered in her ear.

  The spark of desire shot through her. But not tonight. Tonight Ben needed to sleep.

  “Where have you been?” he asked.

  “Looking at the stars.”

  “Ah. The stars and the scent of roses were there when I kissed you for the first time. Do you remember?”

  “Every detail.” She moved so she faced him, kissing his neck, taking in his scent. “Peter’s agreed to let me tag along this week to see if we can figure out who did this.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because.”

  “Because why?”

  “Because I believe in you. And I’m scared. And when I’m scared I try and take control.”

  She felt him smile against her head. “Bella, you’re a menace. You know that?”

  “I’ve heard this before. Mostly from my brother.”

  “A force of nature.”

  A force of nature. Her fire had been called worse. “Go to sleep,” she said. “You need to be strong tomorrow.”

  “But it’s hard to keep my hands off you.” His hand traveled up the back of her leg and over her hip.

  And then, like the inevitability of the stars’ return on any given night, they let themselves be lost in one another until their energy was exhausted and they fell into the dreamless sleep of lovers.

  CHAPTER NINE

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Bella was jolted awake by a text from Richard Greenwood’s assistant. “Cast and crew meeting on set at 8:00 a.m. Saturday morning. Mandatory.”

  She sat up, yawning. It was only six thirty. Ben was still asleep, breathing steadily. How nice it would be to stay in bed all day, especially since it was a Saturday. But duty calls, she thought. Her mother had often said that before she left them for the day. Duty calls. On those mornings, more frequent than the others when their mother stayed and made them pancakes, Drake had taken care of her, gotten her breakfast and made sure she was dressed, hair combed, and teeth cleaned and on the bus for school. She’d been a skinny child and it was always raining. The frequent wind would make its way up her pants legs so by the time she walked up the steps of the school bus her teeth chattered. But her mother had given her a red raincoat with a faux fur lining and red boots for Christmas the year she was in fourth grade. How proud she was of that coat and boots. And warm.

  She’d gotten her little niece Chloe a pair of pink boots and a matching raincoat for Christmas. They were still stuffed in Bella’s closet, on the floor behind shoes she never wore. Chloe had died before Bella was able to give them to her. And then it came, the sadness, like it was fresh, pulling her into grief like an unexpected riptide. She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face in them, letting the tears come. Lean into the grief, her therapist Valerie advised. Let it take you. Don’t fight it because it will find its way back to you anyway.

  Ben stirred next to her, sitting up and reaching for her. “Bella, what is it?”

  She told him then of Chloe and her mother, how sometimes the loss felt like a new wound instead of scar tissue.

  “Well, all this with Tiffany’s bringing it up. Of course it makes all the loss just rush back into you.” He put out his arms. “May I hold you? Would that help at all?”

  “It would.” But the tears wouldn’t stop. She sobbed into his bare chest until he was damp. Finally, the tears ran out and she rose up on her elbow to look into his eyes. “Thank you for letting me cry.”

  “My mother always says it takes a real man to let a woman cry without trying to fix it.”

  “Your mother’s very wise.” She leaned down and kissed him. In the kiss she gave all the love she felt for him with her big and yearning heart, her tender underbelly. And he returned it in a long and searing kiss she wanted to never end. “Ben, I love you,” she said into his mouth. “I can’t help myself.”

  “Bella,” he breathed into her as he pulled her under him, looking into her eyes. “You make me feel like the person I want to be, like I was meant to be, like I want to be. Is this what love is, then?”

  “I think so.” She bit her bottom lip, because it quivered and the lump was in the back of her throat again, only this time it ached with longing and love and gratefulness for this man destined to love her.

  She hated to leave the bed but knew how important it was to be on time. She showered and dressed in jeans, a long wool sweater, and riding boots. Ben was in one of the easy chairs typing on his laptop. “Everything all right at work?” she asked.

  He looked up at her. “Yeah. Just a few fires to put out, as usual.”

  “Do you like your work?”

  He closed his laptop and set it on the ottoman. “Most of the time. It’s pretty stressful. The expectations for someone at my level are intense and I’m under terrible scrutiny to stay within budget. Plus, the personnel issues are endless. Did you know there are a lot of crazy people out there?”

  She laughed. “Um, yeah, I do work in the film industry, so I’m familiar.”

  “And moving around every two years to open yet another call center gets old. Sometimes I think about cashing in all my stock and opening a fly fishing store here in River Valley.”

  “Are you serious?” She sat on the arm of his chair, peering at him.

  He returned her gaze. “Would you still love me if I said I was?”

  “Of course I would. I might love you more, actually. Well, no, that’s not possible.” She hesitated, running her fingers along the collar of his T-shirt. “I have an idea for something too.” She told him of her discussion with Mike about changing the mill into a factory for her cosmetic line.

  “Bella, that’s really exciting. You know I could help. If you wanted.”

  “Being with an MBA is so hot.”

  He pulled her onto his lap. “You really think you could live here?”

  “In a second.”

  “I could run my little store while you turn into a cosmetic tycoon.” He looked into her eyes. “Everything that’s happened the last couple of days—us—and then this awful mess with the police—it’s made me think a lot about what I want, how I want to spend the rest of my life. I’ve been so happy here, especially now, knowing you want to be part of my life. The stress that comes with all this ambition doesn’t feel worth it. I’ve done it, you know, the whole corner office thing, and I think it might be time for a change.”

  “I understand. Do you think Drake would invest?”

  “Maybe. The numbers are small compared to what you’re trying to do so I could fund it myself. Rent’s cheap here and I could carry other outdoor equipment besides just fly-fishing gear. Plus, the town needs guides for the tourists and I could run that out of the shop too.”

  She shook her head, amazed at him. “You’ve really thought this through.”

  “I had to think about something so I wouldn’t think about you. Which didn’t work, by the way.”

  She kissed him lightly on the mouth. “I have to get to set. Don’t spend all day worrying. Peter Ball’s going to figure out what really happened. I promise.”

  “Bella, if we get through this, I want to take you somewhere. Like Hawaii maybe?”

  “When, not if, we get through this. And Hawaii sounds awesome. I’ll wear
my pink bikini.” She got up to go but he pulled on her hand and brought her back onto his lap.

  “You’re going to marry me, Bella Webber, if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

  She stared at him. “What did you say?”

  “I said I want you to marry me. But this isn’t me asking you. I’m going to ask you properly, in a way worthy of you. But you should know my intentions.”

  “Benjamin Fleck, you know how to make a girl swoon. And getting me to marry you won’t be the last thing you ever do. It’ll just be the beginning. I promise that too.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT WAS POUNDING RAIN as she drove to the set; her wipers on high couldn’t keep the front or back windows clear. She was one of the first to arrive, but soon the rest of the cast and crew came in, holding coffee cups, looking tired and worried and scared. A few of the women were crying. Poor Tiffany, thought Bella. If you only knew how much some of us cared.

  She searched the room for Graham but he was not there. Typical, thought Bella. Richard ambled to the front of the room. Bella had never seen him look as poorly as he did this morning. His clothes looked like he’d slept in them and his bushy hair stood up like it hadn’t been combed in days. He took off his glasses and cleaned them before he began to speak in an unsteady voice.

  “Gang, I don’t know how to begin to speak about this in a way that will comfort any of us. I certainly can’t think of one way to explain how or why a talented young person should have to go out of the world in the way that she did. I will not pretend she wasn’t a troubled person but she was doing her best, as we all do, day in and day out, to be better than she was the day before. It’s my understanding she had a relapse the night she was killed. Would she have been forgiven by me and welcomed back into the fold? Yes. I believe in many chances for those with good hearts, knowing from my own experience that sobriety is not easy. Those of us with that particular addiction struggle for it each and every day.” He looked around the silent room that seemed as if no one dared breathe. “I’ve been sober for twenty-five years. I was just a little younger than Tiffany when I took the first step into an AA meeting. Tiffany Archer was a good girl, a talented girl who struggled as I did, as I do. We’re never fully safe—each day is like the first day. Regardless of her disease, she will be missed, most especially by those of us who looked forward to seeing her triumph like Phoenix Rising in the next several months. I believe in my heart she would have. But she won’t have that chance now and I won’t pretend like my heart isn’t broken. However, we must continue forward, not only for the sake of all the jobs represented in this room but also because the only way to fight against evil is to live. This is all we can do. Make art. Kiss in the rain. Hold our children close. Love hard and without restraint. So we will.” He paused, his eyes skirting to Stefan and Gennie, who were holding hands, both in tears. “I’ve already shared this with Stefan and Genevieve, but you should all know we’ve hired a new actress. I know it sounds beyond callous; I can hardly think of how to go on today, let alone offer Tiffany’s role, her comeback role, to someone else. But it must be done.”