Carolyn Haines - Wishbones

She went through the story Federico had told me, point by point.

“Do you think that woman you saw pushed you?”

She hesitated. “She was halfway down the second-floor hall. She would have had to move fast to get to me.”

“If she didn’t push you, who did?”

“That’s the thing that’s really scary, Ms. Delaney. I can’t explain how she did it, and if she didn’t, who did.”

Federico was true to his word, and the next two days of shooting went without a hitch. There are rare times, sometimes only moments, when life is close to perfect. This was such a time for me. I had Graf, my best friends in the world, a job that I’d dreamed of and now discovered that I could do well, and a place that was close to paradise. If I’d been asked to make a wish, I would have had to say that I had everything I wanted.

Graf and I rode each morning on the beach, the waves crashing onto the sand and the seabirds calling. The brisk salt air made the horses frisky, and we rode and frolicked, and for those short hours I had no worries or cares. I embraced the happiness the gods had thrown in my path, and everyone on the set noticed, especially Tinkie.

The days had begun to run together, but Tinkie informed me that it was a Tuesday, and that she and Cece and Millie would have to leave soon. While I had started a new life, they were only vacationing from theirs.

The idea of saying good-bye almost made me cry, but I walled off my own sadness. “I wish you guys could stay forever.”

“Oscar called three times last night. He’s getting grumpy, and that means it’s time for me to head home. Cece says the newspaper is nagging at her, too.”

Cece had worked too hard to overcome the stigma of being a transsexual to ever take her job assignment lightly.

“And Millie is worried about the café.” Tinkie took my hand. “Let’s take a walk.”

We went to the beach and watched the surf strike the rock formation that looked like a castle from a distance.

“This is a beautiful place, Sarah Booth.”

“Indeed it is. But we’ll be heading back to California soon.”

“I’ve been watching you act, and you do have a special talent. I’m so proud of you. You’re going to have a big, big career in film.”

She was the most generous of friends, offering freedom without guilt, even if it meant leaving her behind. “After the movie is finished, I’m coming home. We can have a big ole party at Dahlia House.”

“That’ll be nice.” She turned to go back. “But Hollywood is where the parties count. No one in Zinnia can help your career.”

“The party isn’t for my career, it’s for my friends.”

She smiled and tugged me along behind her. “Millie is cooking dinner for Federico and Jovan and us. I promised her I’d go to the store and get some supplies. Want to come?”

I did but I had some lines to learn for the next day’s shooting. “I’ll help later in the kitchen.”

“Good deal.” We parted ways at the front driveway. Tinkie had borrowed the keys to a rental car and she had her list in hand.

As I walked to my room, I wondered how Federico had put the kibosh on Estelle leaping out of dark corners, but I didn’t want to ask. The only thing that mattered was that he made certain she didn’t frighten or harm anyone else.

In my room, I picked up my script and plopped into the comfortable, overstuffed chair covered in lush rose velvet. I wanted to be letter perfect for filming tomorrow. Several other actors were coming in for scenes, and it was a big day of shooting.

By the time I was satisfied with my rehearsal, dusk had fallen outside. My mother had called it “the blue hour,” and I understood why. While dawn, with the pinks and roses of a new day, was promising, there was something about the fading of light from the sky that made me sad. Another day was ending, another cycle concluding.

Moving out to the balcony to stretch and take a breath of the fresh, wonderful air that blew in from the ocean, I saw movement in the gardens.

A slender figure in a red dress moved through the shrubs. My body tensed and I was on full alert. Somehow Estelle was back on the grounds and playing her games. I wasn’t about to let her mess up Millie’s dinner.

Sweetie and Chablis were nowhere to be found-gone with Graf, I presumed. The dogs had taken up with him, and while it did my heart good to see that Sweetie Pie had a father figure, I was a tad jealous. Especially in moments like this, when I needed my hound for a tracking job.

To my astonishment, the figure beckoned me.

“You bet your sweet ass I’m coming down,” I mumbled, putting my words into action. “I’ll be there before you can say Essie Mae Woodcock.”

I slipped on my athletic shoes and crept down the stairs and into the blue dusk. From the kitchen I could hear Cece telling a story to some of the enthralled crew. My friends were hits with everyone, and I didn’t want to disturb the joy of the evening. I’d have a few words with Estelle and convince her to let us finish the filming. If she left us alone, we’d conclude faster and get out of her mother’s home.

The guard wasn’t at the front door, but I assumed he was patrolling the grounds. Or sleeping. Obviously he wasn’t keeping Estelle away.

My feet crunched on the shell drive as I jogged toward the gardens. Graf and I had explored them several times, finding alcoves where hibiscus grew in vivid shades and the sweet perfume of blossoms I couldn’t identify seemed to drug the air. These were our secret canoodling places, and we sought them out when the urge to make out came upon us strong and irresistible. It was juvenile and naughty and thoroughly delicious.

I entered the garden. In places, the hedges were seven feet high, creating a wall of green that seemed impenetrable. But there were paths, small fountains, ponds and statuary throughout the five acres of formal gardens. I headed toward the place I’d last seen Estelle signaling me, a small clearing with a bench, a statue of Pan, and a fountain that babbled in clear, high notes. It was one of our favorite nooks.

“Estelle.” I called her name as I jogged. I was eager for the confrontation.

The night fell softly around me, but in places the gardens were lit. I moved steadily west, or at least that’s what I hoped. When I came out at the edge of the cliffs that led down to the ocean, I was a bit surprised. I hadn’t thought I’d gone so far.

There was no sign of the woman in red, or Estelle, if that was who it was. No indication that she’d ever been in the gardens at all. Of course, she could be hiding beneath any hedge, laughing at me.

The chilling sense that someone was behind me made me spin around. “Estelle!” She was beginning to piss me off. “Come out and quit this foolishness.”

The only sound was the soft cooing of a dove nesting somewhere in the tall shrubs. “Damn it, Estelle. This is getting old. Come out and talk. We’ll be leaving in a few days so you can have the house to yourself.”

No answer, no response. Even the dove fell silent.

“Great.” I’d worked up a sweat jogging for no good reason. But I was careful to keep my back to the drop-off. Jovan and Suzy Dutton had both been pushed. Suzy was dead, and Jovan was lucky.

And I was hungry, and I wanted to spend time with Graf and my friends. Before I left the gardens, I went to the edge of the cliff. In the pale moonlight, the waves, carrying a hint of green phosphorescence, were spectacular roaring onto the sand. Wild, savage, untamed, the ocean was the most mysterious of all earth’s elements to me.

I was about to turn away when I saw the woman in red. She was below me on the sand, her right hand motioning to me. She touched her lips as if she meant to keep a secret.