Carolyn Haines - Wishbones

The cast and crew had scattered, taking off for the beaches or hiding out in their rooms, or going back to the hotel in town where most of them were booked. Only a select few members had been invited to stay at the house, and for the moment the mansion was quiet and cool.

I walked up the stairs and into my room. Opening the balcony windows, I could hear Federico talking with the medics. Stepping outside, I watched them load Joey into a waiting ambulance. A gentle breeze tinkled the wind chimes, and I examined the balustrade. It was thick cement, and a section three feet wide had simply broken.

Or not so simply.

Bending closer, I saw what looked like chisel marks in the cement, as if a tool had been worked into cracks to weaken the structure. But who would do such a thing? And why?

The notion that I was being watched came over me with such certainty that I backed away from the balcony and ran inside. My gaze roved from one side to the other, but the room was empty. Except for the portrait of Carlita.

I could have sworn there was a hint of satisfaction in her smile that hadn’t been there yesterday.

As soon as the medics were gone, I found Federico alone in the suite of rooms he was using with Jovan. The model was scheduled to arrive on the set any minute. She’d had a fashion shoot in Milan, so her scenes had been pushed back.

“Come in, Sarah Booth.” Federico sat wearily in a chair before a cold fireplace. “What a day. The medics seem to think that Joey will be fine. His right arm is broken and he’s badly bruised. They’ll know for certain that there’s no serious damage once they run some tests.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” I hesitated. The subject I wanted to broach wasn’t going to be pleasant. “I looked at the balustrade, Federico. It’s possible someone deliberately weakened the structure.”

His eyes widened and he rose slowly to his feet. “Are you saying this wasn’t an accident? That someone deliberately set out to hurt Joey.”

“Maybe not Joey.” It had occurred to me that had Joey not fallen, it might have been me. The script called for me to lean out into the breeze, letting it lift my hair and blow my dressing gown against my body while Ned watched from the lawn below.

He took my meaning instantly. “You think you were meant to fall?”

I frowned. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. But something isn’t right.”

“This house has been empty for several years. It will be Estelle’s on her wedding day, but until then, I’ve neglected it. I sent a cleaning crew out last month to prepare for the film, but before that, no one lived here.” He paced as he talked. “Perhaps this happened when the house was empty, or somehow the cleaning crew did something.”

I didn’t disagree. Both scenarios were possible. “I’m not afraid, but I am concerned. I think you should hire some security here.”

He stopped pacing and nodded. “You’re thinking of Suzy, aren’t you?”

“Two serious falls, one of them fatal. Yeah, it’s an easy link to make.” I saw the worry etch itself more deeply in the lines of his face. “There probably is no connection, but I heard what Suzy said at Michael Mainheim’s party.”

He dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry, Sarah Booth. You shouldn’t have heard that.”

“She felt I stole this role from her.” I gave a wry grin. “I know what that feels like, and it isn’t very nice. She was upset.”

“Six years ago, I would have cast Suzy as Matty. But her time for that role passed. You are Matty, Sarah Booth. I’ve told you this before, but it bears repeating. I didn’t give you anything you didn’t deserve.”

His words were high praise, but they didn’t answer the question of what Suzy was doing out in Lettohatchie Canyon. “Do you really believe Suzy was climbing around that canyon because she and Bobby Joe Taylor are friends?”

He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Suzy did say Bobby Joe was working on a script with her in mind.”

Then it was possible she’d come out to the mountain to talk to Bobby Joe without knowing he’d let Graf and I stay in his place for a few weeks. But she never knocked on the door. She was climbing the ravine. It didn’t wash.

“Suzy’s death troubles me. Now Joey is hurt.” I didn’t have to go further. Federico took my hand and pressed it.

“I’ll hire the security company now. Ricardo can check out several agencies and find the best one.”

“I think that’s a wise decision.” I found a smile and pasted it to my face. Federico had enough to worry about. If someone was up to something on the set, maybe the presence of security guards would put a stop to it.

I awoke from a nap to discover that the entire day had slipped away. The rustle of papers made me sit up in bed. Graf sat in an overstuffed chair, his feet propped on an ottoman, reading Variety. Sweetie snored lightly at his feet. The soft late evening light struck Graf full on the face and I couldn’t help but see how handsome he was.

“Would you like some coffee, Sarah Booth?”

I wasn’t certain what I wanted, other than to pat the bed and ask Graf to come and lay beside me. That would open too many doors, though. I sat up and rubbed my face. “I feel like Dorothy, and this isn’t Kansas anymore.” The room was magnificent, especially with Graf there as if he were part of my family.

“There’s some good noise about this movie,” he said, folding the paper and offering it to me.

I shook my head. “Millie tells me everything I need to know about Hollywood. Part of it’s true and part of it isn’t.”

He laughed. “You have good friends, Sarah Booth. I was watching you sleep and thinking that I’ve neglected to make those connections. I wonder if it’s a gender thing or if I’ve failed somehow.”

It was true that a lot of men never built friendships. Many developed “couple” friendships. “You’d probably be surprised at the people who count you as a friend.”

He stood up and came to the bed. “I’ve been all about work or a romantic relationship. I want to have friends, like you.”

I touched his face lightly, the evening stubble rough under my palm. “I’ll be your friend.”

He looked so innocent-before his fingers found the ticklish places along my ribs and hips.

Screaming and struggling to get away from him, I couldn’t help but laugh. This was familiar ground for us. We rough-housed like kids, a trick way to experience the pleasure of physical intimacy. When at last I was panting for air, Graf pulled me into his arms and held me gently.

For a long moment we stayed that way before he let me go and stood up from the bed. “You’re the hardest test I’ve ever met.”

I only nodded. “I think coffee sounds good.” We had to get out of the bedroom. The attraction between us was impossible to ignore.

“I’ll go start it. Meet you in the kitchen.”

Graf walked out of the room and I realized Sweetie Pie was still snoring. Some watchdog.

I put on jeans and a T-shirt and started down the hallway. The house was still quiet. In the morning everyone, including the caterers and set builders with their saws and drills, would be back.

Halfway down the upstairs hall, I had the sense that someone was watching me, but when I looked, the hall was empty, the hardwood floors shining in the peachy light. Maybe I was missing Jitty and hoping for a ghost.

As I started across the foyer, I heard voices raised in anger.

“You were responsible for Mother’s death. No matter what you say, you were at the bottom of it.”

The voice was young and female and filled with bitter emotion. I hesitated. It was coming from Federico’s room. The door was open, and if the people arguing wanted privacy, they should have shut it.