Carolyn Haines - Wishbones

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.”

Once the door to Federico’s rooms was closed, I turned to Graf and Tinkie. “Let’s take this place apart.”

“What have you figured out?” Tinkie asked. We’d only been partners for a year, but she knew me.

“I’m beginning to find it strange that Carlita’s ghost-or whoever this apparition is-has appeared only to women.” I turned to Graf. “Have you seen it?”

“Not even a flicker of strange light.” He looked around the foyer and up the staircase. “Now that you point it out, it is odd that the ghost would appear only to you and Jovan.”

Tinkie gave me a foxy look. “Unless there’s some special attraction between Sarah Booth and the spirit world.”

For one brief instant, I wondered if she’d somehow learned about Jitty. But that was impossible. Jitty refused to show herself to anyone but me. As she explained it, she was my personal haint and no one else could see her.

So if Carlita’s ghost was in the house, why was she haunting two actresses? Jovan I could understand-because she was Federico’s lover, and the jealousy card would play perfectly there.

But why me? I had no interest in Federico, except as a director and a friend. I had no history in Hollywood, no past sins to be punished for.

Except for my love of a married man.

And with that the door I’d shut so carefully in my mind burst open and Coleman stepped into my head with such force that I stepped back from my friends. I wasn’t over him. Not yet.

“What’s wrong?” Tinkie asked.

I stammered, but I managed to say, “I’m trying to figure this out, and I keep going in circles. It’s making me dizzy.” Even as I talked, my brain was whirling. Was it possible Carlita’s ghost meant to punish women who came between married couples? But Federico was single. Had been since Carlita’s death more than a decade ago. Why punish him now?

“Sarah Booth, we should start searching.” Tinkie put her hand on my shoulder to pull me back from my thoughts. “You don’t look well.”

“No, I’m good.” I found a smile of encouragement. “You and Graf take the dogs and begin the search. I want to call Millie.”

Tinkie checked her watch. “This is probably a good time to call her. She’s up.”

I glanced at her wrist. Five A.M. would be good. I’d catch Millie before the crowds flocked into the café.

“Sarah Booth, I don’t want to leave you alone,” Graf said. “We agreed to work in teams.”

I hadn’t given it a thought until he said it, but I gave him a hug. “Leave Sweetie with me. She’ll protect me. And I’m going to stay right here where cell phone reception is the best in the house.”

“Sweetie would give her life for you.” Graf kissed my forehead and then my cheek. “Dogs have a sense about ghosts, or so I’ve heard.” He turned his affections to my hound and gave her ears a rumple. “Yell if you need us.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will. Start upstairs, and I’ll sit here near the staircase. If anyone tries to sneak out this way, I’ll scream like a banshee.”

“We need those floor plans of this house,” Tinkie grumbled as she and Graf climbed the stairs.

She was right, but even if we went and camped at the architect’s office, there was no way he’d appear for several hours.

I placed the call to Millie and she answered on the third ring. “I was going to call you this morning,” she said. “I found some interesting things in my research.”

“We can stand some help here.”

“Let me get a cup of coffee,” she said, “and then we’ll talk.”

Across the long air waves, I heard the familiar clatter of Millie’s Bunn coffeemaker. I could visualize her, already dressed, apron tied on her waist. It was early morning, yet she’d have her hair done and makeup on. Millie had survived loss, as I had, yet she’d always held on to who she was and the life she loved.

“I’m back,” she said. “And I’m not certain exactly what I’ve found, but I think you need to know it.”

“Shoot,” I said.

“You actually owe this one to Tinkie, but she won’t take credit for it.”

I gripped the phone tighter. Once my gal friends started disclaiming the credit for something, I knew it was going to be good.

“Millie, quit stalling or I’ll tell Robert Redford that you think he can’t direct!”

“Okay, okay, don’t you dare say a derogatory word about Robert Redford. So check this out. Back in the eighties, Federico was involved with two large-budget films that were complete disasters. The only way he recovered his career was that an outside investor threw some money in to cover some of the debts.”

“Who was that investor?” Money was always a good motive for revenge. If Federico had, willingly or not, screwed someone out of millions, that would be excellent cause for that person to try to wreck the current film.

“Harold hasn’t been able to get a name yet. The money was given anonymously, but Harold says to give him time, that there are ways to find these things out.”

“Tell Harold I owe him a Hollywood dinner.” Harold Erkwell had once been a suitor, but more importantly, he’d turned into a good friend-and president of the bank in Zinnia. He had financial contacts that had helped me and Tinkie solve cases more than once.

“That and a lot more. Sarah Booth, why don’t you give him some serious consideration once you get home to Zinnia? He adores you.”

A pain as violent as a knife wound stabbed into my heart. It was Millie’s honest assumption that I would return to Zinnia once the movie was finished. No matter what, she believed I would come home. Because Zinnia was where I belonged. And that’s where people lived, where their hearts were.

“Millie, I can’t promise-”

“I know. I’m not asking for promises. But I did pay a visit to Madame Tomeeka.”

My old high school friend, Tammy Odom, had a talent for peering into the future. The pictures she got weren’t always clear, but Tammy knew things. I wasn’t about to argue with Millie on this one, because I couldn’t say for certain what my heart wished for most of all-fame and Hollywood or home and security.

“And what about Graf?” I asked.

“He loves you, Sarah Booth. I don’t doubt that for an instant.”

“But what?” I didn’t want to hear this, but I couldn’t help myself. At this moment, Graf was upstairs with my partner and best friend, hunting for a ghost in a red dress that neither of them had seen. But I had seen her. So therefore they were searching. Could any woman ask more from a man?

“But Graf is a movie star.”

“And I’m not?”

“Oh, you certainly have the talent. No one doubts that. Sarah Booth, no one ever doubted that but you.”

“So why am I not a movie star?” I sounded a little huffy even to me.

“Because it isn’t talent that makes someone that thing. If you could balance and contort your body on a trapeze, that wouldn’t make you a circus performer.”

“Unless I ran away to join the circus.”

“Exactly!” Millie was triumphant.

“But I’m making a movie.”

There was an uncomfortable pause.