Wishbones

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I ran into Graf’s arms with enough force to make him stagger.

“Sarah Booth.” He hugged me tight. “What’s wrong?”

“I scared myself.” It was as close to the truth as I would go. While I hadn’t hesitated to tell him about the woman in the red dress who seemed to haunt Federico’s house, I wasn’t about to tell him about Jitty.

He eased me back so he could look into my eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t learn much from Dallas or Sally. They’ve heard noises, but nothing that really bothered them.” His beautiful eyes twinkled. “But Tinkie hit pay dirt.”

I didn’t want to look away from Graf. In his eyes I glimpsed an extraordinary image of myself. I was valuable, desirable, necessary. I liked that reflection far better than the one in my mirror. Graf saw the best in me and ignored the rest. What a wonderful gift.

I’d held back, but I needed to tell him something. I could make no guarantees, but I could be honest. “Graf, each day my heart opens a little more to you.”

He kissed me lightly. “I have no great faith that somehow I won’t screw this up. But I am trying.”

“Me, too.” It was all we could ask of each other, and the possibilities were terrifying. I changed the subject to something more manageable. “What did Tinkie find?”

“I’ll let her tell you.” He escorted me to the kitchen where Tinkie was whirling up a blender of celebratory margaritas. She met me with a full-wattage smile that reminded me of expensive orthodontic procedures.

“What did you find out?” I asked as I took a glass of “that frozen concoction” and passed one to Graf.

Tinkie licked the salt from the rim and arched one eyebrow-a newly acquired trait. “Federico said there was a floor plan for this house at an architect’s in Petaluma. I called, but the office had already closed for the day. Tomorrow morning while you’re filming, I’ll visit Senor Lopez and pick up a copy of the plans.”

“Tinkie! That’s perfect.” I checked my watch. It was six o’clock, which meant it would be four in Los Angeles. “I’m going to call Sheriff King and check on Suzy Dutton’s autopsy report. It’s peculiar that we haven’t heard a word from him. I figured for sure he’d have me taken back to the States in chains.”

“You do have a way with lawmen, Sarah Booth.” Tinkie turned on the blender to whip up another round of drinks, effectively blocking my reply.

While I took the telephone to the front hallway to make my call, she turned ice cubes into delicious tequila slush.

Sheriff King was leaving his office when my call went through, but he took it. My first question was direct and to the point about Suzy’s autopsy.

“Well, well, Miss Delaney. It isn’t every day that a suspect calls to check in with me.”

“Have you gotten the autopsy report on Suzy Dutton?” I asked for the second time.

“I’m trying to keep the coroner’s ruling out of the press,” he said, “but I don’t reckon you’ll be spreading the news. Word all over Los Angeles is that your movie is cursed. Rumors abound, and most of them center on your director. Folks are saying some of his past deeds are coming home to roost.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Talk like that isn’t good for a movie.”

“I wouldn’t have believed that the sheriff of a California county would be susceptible to ghost stories and curses.” I couldn’t help myself. King brought out the very worst in my antiauthoritarian nature.

“I’ve been in law enforcement long enough to know that sometimes the factual explanation defies logic. Bad luck is the same as a curse, except a curse makes for better headlines.”

“Right, and the boogeyman is haunting the cast and crew.” I had to force the sarcasm into my voice, but I wasn’t going to let King know he was getting to me. He was a smug bastard. “What did the autopsy determine?”

“I don’t have to tell you this, but I will. It was a homicide. She was pushed.”

“How did the coroner come to that conclusion?” I wasn’t questioning the coroner, but I was curious.

“He found grass and dirt under her fingernails. She clung to the cliff. Her knuckles were scraped and bruised-”

“As if someone stepped on her hands?” I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice.

“More like stomped them with cleated hiking boots.”

That was even more horrific. “Who would do such a thing?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out. We’ve questioned Bobby Joe Taylor at length, and though he knew Suzy, he doesn’t believe she was visiting him. They’d had an argument about a movie script and she wasn’t speaking to him. He also says the note on the mirror wasn’t directed at him, that he’d given up his womanizing ways and had been dating his current girlfriend exclusively.”

“And what else did you expect him to say?” Was King slow or just determined to devil me? He believed everyone except me. Because he was determined that Federico was guilty of something?

King’s voice was lazy. “I figure most all of you actor types will lie to cover your asses, so I didn’t expect anything else.”

“If I were involved in Suzy’s death, do you think I’d be calling right now?”

“You would if you were smart and trying to look innocent.”

There was no way to win with King. “Do you have any other suspects except for me and Federico?”

He hesitated, and I wondered if he was actually going to be honest with me.

“Who?” I pressed.

“There were several phone calls made to Ms. Dutton’s home. The calls came from pay phones in the Malibu area.”

“I didn’t-”

“Your actions for the specific times when the calls were made have been accounted for. You were on the set and filming. You and Marquez have alibis, so don’t bother professing your innocence.”

Even when he was being sort of nice, King was a pill. “So who else is a suspect?” I deliberately withheld Estelle’s name. I couldn’t decide if I was trying to protect Federico, or if I simply wasn’t comfortable pointing the finger of blame at a young woman who was already emotionally troubled. It was possible that Estelle made those calls to Suzy, but the bottom line was that only circumstance seemed to implicate Estelle. I had no real evidence that she’d done anything wrong except tinker with her father’s cameras-and that was hearsay from her brother. I knew what it felt like to be falsely accused, and I didn’t want to inflict that on someone as delicate as Estelle.

“We’re working on it.”

“Sheriff, have you determined a motive for Suzy’s death? I mean, looking at it from my point of view, why would I kill her when I already have the part?”

Silence stretched between us. At last he spoke. “You might not have as much to gain as Marquez, when it comes right down to it.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said sweetly, “but what does Federico have to gain from the death of a former girlfriend?”

“Oh, I’d say there could be numerous answers to that question. Marquez is something of a legend in the Hollywood Hills. A lot of people had scores to settle with him, and maybe Suzy Dutton was trying.”

Arguing with King was like spitting into the wind. “Am I still a suspect?”

“That sheriff in Sunflower County speaks highly of you, Miss Delaney. He assured me you were never a serious suspect in the murder of Renata Trovaioli, but that he had to arrest you because of the evidence that had been planted to frame you.”

Coleman was a day late and a dollar short with his explanations. But there was no point going into that with Grady King. “So am I off your suspect list?”

“Maybe.”

He was as thorny as a Devil’s Walking Stick. “I’ll take that as a yes. Sheriff, could you possibly check on Federico’s daughter, Estelle?” I gave him her Malibu address. “She’s been here in Petaluma, but she left Costa Rica suddenly yesterday and we’re concerned that we haven’t heard from her. She isn’t answering her phone.”

“Why concerned?”

I didn’t want to overplay it. “She’s high-strung and she’s had emotional problems in the past. Just a call or drive by her place to make sure she’s okay would be great.”

“I’ll get an officer out there as soon as I hang up. I’m sure we have someone in the Hollywood Brat Babysitter department. Hey, if Federico’s daughter was in Malibu-”

“She was in Petaluma, according to her roommate, at the time of Suzy’s death.” That wasn’t a proven fact, but I didn’t want King giving Estelle the rough treatment until I knew she was guilty. “Even though you’re ill-tempered, I thank you.” I meant it, too. If I knew Estelle was truly in Malibu-and okay-it would give me some necessary answers about what was happening in Petaluma.

“When is the film crew returning to the States?” he asked.

“In a couple of days. We’re almost finished.”

“Tell Marquez to check in with me as soon as he gets into town. And let me remind you, Miss Delaney, that if you aren’t involved in the murder, then it’s possible you’re a future target. Bobby Joe Taylor has convinced me that the note left on the mirror was meant for you. So take that into account when you’re flitting around the area.”

“I feel better knowing that you’re concerned for my safety. Have a good afternoon.” I hung up. Even though I enjoyed my moment of one-upsmanship, King’s words troubled me. Bad things were happening around this movie. Someone had a burn on for Federico or someone involved with the film. And until we found out who that person was and stopped him or her, things could get worse.

Once Tinkie and Chablis were safely tucked in bed, Graf and I found some time alone. Instead of a stolen few passionate kisses in the garden alcoves, we had the night to ourselves. With all of the commotion going on, I hadn’t been able to focus on Graf and my feelings for him. As the moon peeked in the bedroom window, I set about putting that to right.

A breeze with a trace of salt rumbaed with the sheer curtains and teased our superheated skin as we made love. We were different, both of us, than we’d been in New York. We were gentler in some ways and more savage in others. But there was no doubt that we were kinder to each other in every way. The sense that time would run out for us-an emotion that had dominated our relationship in New York-was gone. We took our time with each other, savoring each touch, each sensation.

There is no aphrodisiac like self-confidence, and I found a willing partner in Graf. In our bed, there wasn’t room for fear. In that wonderful way of passion, the more I had, the more I wanted.

Graf had just begun a wicked exploration of the backs of my knees with his mouth when there was a loud crash from downstairs followed by an eardrum-piercing scream.

Sweetie began barking and clawing at the bedroom door with such franticness that it sent a shaft of fear through me. Tinkie was alone in her room with only Chablis to protect her. Chablis would do her best-and could be a fearsome adversary if she had the element of surprise on her side-but she only weighed three pounds.

Galvanized into action, Graf and I threw on robes and hurried into the hallway to peer down the stairs. Sweetie didn’t wait for us. She took the steps four at time, landing at the bottom in a dead scramble for the kitchen.

Hysterical sobbing came from there, and Graf and I ran. Along the way he picked up a heavy candlestick, and I clutched one of my beautiful spike heels.

Pale and shaken, Federico joined us. “Jovan is missing,” he whispered.

But not for long. We found her in the kitchen hunkered in a corner and crying. She was so terrified she fought Federico when he captured her in his arms to console her.

“She’s afraid,” Graf said, looking around. Nothing in the kitchen was out of place except for a platter that was smashed on the floor. I examined the broken pieces and realized it had been valuable, a handmade piece that was signed by the artist.

As Federico and Graf lifted Jovan from the floor and into a chair, I gathered the large pieces of clay and swept up the sharp shards. Sweetie patrolled the kitchen, whining at the sink and clawing at the cabinet door.

I opened the cabinet, but only neat rows of cleaning supplies were in evidence. I had no idea what was wrong with Sweetie Pie. She kept nosing the cabinet like a rib eye had been dropped there, but I couldn’t find a thing.

Tinkie, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, joined us. “What’s going on? I thought I heard a scream and a crash.”

Jovan whimpered before she answered. “There was a woman, here in the kitchen. A stranger.” She was shaking so violently that her teeth chattered. Her pale blue eyes were glassy with shock.

Federico put his arms around her and held her. “You’re safe,” he said, but he looked around the kitchen as if he expected to see the intruder hiding in a corner. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was looking for his dead wife. A chill swept over my body at the thought.

“What did she look like?” Tinkie asked gently. She took a seat at the table and patted Jovan’s hand. “Can you tell us? Then we’ll find her.”

“She had on a red dressing gown.” Jovan inhaled with a shudder. “She was standing right there, at the sink, and she turned to face me.” Tears ran down her cheeks and she choked back a sob.

“Jovan, darling, take a deep breath.” Federico rubbed her arms and kissed her head as he did his best to give her comfort. “You’re safe now. We’re all here with you.”

She inhaled deeply and continued. “She was so beautiful, at first. I thought she was an actress I hadn’t met yet, someone dark and exotic and beautiful.” Her eyes welled with tears again. “But then she glared at me. Her eyes were dark and they burned like hot coals.” She sobbed in earnest. “It was awful. She looked at me with such hatred, and then she lunged at me and said, ‘Get out! Get out of my house before you die!’ ” She closed her eyes. “She said we were all going to die.”

Even though we were all in the kitchen with the lights on, I edged closer to Graf. Tinkie, on the other hand, took practical action and went to check the door that led to the outside. It was locked. From the inside.

“Which way did she go?” Tinkie asked. “Did anyone else see her?”

We all shook our heads.

Jovan wiped her tears away. “I don’t know. That platter shot off the counter and smashed. I was startled and glanced at the broken dish. When I looked up, she was gone.”

Federico rubbed the right side of his face. “That platter was made for Carlita by Pablo Rameriz.”

“The famous artist?” Tinkie knew exactly who he was.

“Carlita sometimes modeled for him. He adored her. She valued that platter highly.”

Jovan turned so that she could look at him. Her eyes widened. “She broke it so we couldn’t use it. She is haunting this house, like everyone says. She hates us so much she’d destroy a work of art to keep us from using it.” She burst into wild tears.

“I’ll check the front door and the windows,” Graf volunteered.

“Take Sweetie with you.” My hound was pacing the kitchen. When she went with Graf, Chablis followed.

“Jovan,” I said, “are you sure you haven’t seen this woman before?” I refused to name her Carlita. If the idea that Federico’s dead wife was out to get us circulated through the film crew, we would shut down.

Jovan covered her eyes. “The first night I came here. When someone pushed me down the stairs. I saw her upstairs. I think she must have pushed me.”

“You’re positive it was the same woman?” I’d resisted believing that a ghost could harm any of us-or even that a ghost was involved. But Jovan had evidence.

She nodded. “I’m sure of it now. It was her. The same woman I saw on the second floor. The one who pushed me and could have killed me. And she said we’re going to die.”

I spoke before I thought. “She has to be in the house somewhere.”

My matter-of-fact tone made Jovan look at me. “She doesn’t have to be here. If she’s a ghost, she can come and go as she pleases.”

“Ghosts can’t push humans.” When everyone turned to look at me, I realized I’d spoken with authority. “I mean, ghosts aren’t supposed to be able to manipulate matter.” In all of the time I’d spent with Jitty, the best she could muster was a breeze.

“Evil spirits have powers,” Jovan said in a whisper. “Her eyes burned like hot coals. She was evil. I know she was. I know it.” She turned her face into Federico’s pajama top and cried.

Tinkie looked at me. “Do you believe this?” she asked in a whisper.

“I don’t know.” I’d seen a woman in red. She’d lured me to the beach where I’d been attacked and nearly drowned. But I wasn’t certain I believed this entity could push Jovan down the stairs or fling a platter. I needed to consult with Jitty, but she was being coy and evasive.

“Let’s go back to our rooms,” Federico said as he assisted Jovan to her feet. “Perhaps we should go to the hospital and get you checked out. Maybe the doctor can prescribe a stronger sedative.”

“No, no, I’m fine. I have my big scene with Graf and Sarah Booth tomorrow. I don’t want to see a doctor.” She swayed on her feet and Federico steadied her.

It was true that Jovan was slated for the big confrontation scene between Matty and the sister-in-law about the will. Ned, representing Matty, gets his first clue that he doesn’t know everything about the woman he’s become embroiled with. It was going to be Jovan’s finest moment in the film, and if she didn’t get some rest, she was going to look awful.

“I’ll check with Graf and make sure the house is locked up,” I said.

“Me, too.” Tinkie stood up beside me.

“You can’t lock out a ghost,” Jovan said, blinking back a fresh round of tears. “Be careful, because if you see her, she’s going to try to hurt you, too.”

I took Jovan’s limp hand. “Please don’t tell anyone about this until we have a chance to investigate.”

She looked at me as if I were dense.

“Jovan, this film is already plagued with rumors about curses and other problems. If this story gets out among the cast and crew, it could cause a lot of problems.”

“She’s right,” Federico said. “This kind of story will add fuel to a dangerous fire.”

“And none of you care that I was nearly frightened to death.” Jovan stepped away from Federico, the glint of battle in her eyes.

“It isn’t that,” I assured her. “Tinkie and Graf and I will search the house from top to bottom. We’ll do everything we can. If this woman is real, we’ll find her.”

“And if she isn’t?” Jovan challenged.

“I don’t know what we can do about an angry ghost.”

“We can get out of this house.” Jovan stalked across the room and paused in the doorway. “She’s already injured me. Next time, she may break my neck.”

She had a point, but I had a suggestion. “I think none of us should wander around the house alone. We can stay in teams.”

“You think that will stop her? She can hurt two of us as easily as one. I don’t like living in a place that’s dangerous.”

My response was cut short when Graf returned, a worried look on his face. “All of the doors are locked from the inside. The downstairs windows are also locked.”

“Then we need to conduct a search.” Tinkie was all business. “We’ll put an end to this foolishness once and for all.”