Carolyn Haines - Wishbones

“And I love him.” I didn’t see any reason to lie. “But that doesn’t mean a thing. Graf loves me, too. And I’m falling deeper in love with him with each passing day.”

She put her arm around my waist. “I can see that. I thought at first he was shallow and a user, but he has depth and strength, and the two of you are wonderful together. That’s why I’ve been quiet about all of this. But I wanted you to know the truth. You can’t make a fair decision unless you know everything. And whatever you decide will be right.”

“Thanks, Tinkie.” I couldn’t give her any more than that, because I didn’t know more myself. I’d spent so long waiting for Coleman, wanting him to be a real partner. But I’d given up hope.

“Where to next, fearless leader?” Tinkie asked and gave my waist a firm squeeze before she let go.

“Maybe we need to consult with Millie?”

“Or that Tor person she told you about.”

“Good idea.” I put a call in to the café and got the answering machine. It was the lunch hour and the place was hopping. Millie was waiting on customers, ringing up tickets, laughing and talking and planning the menu for the next day. And Tor’s number was unlisted; I’d have to wait for Millie to give it to me.

“Let’s grab some lunch,” Tinkie said. “My head throbs and my stomach is growling. And you look like something from a Star Trek episode that involves a brain leech.”

“If I was ever inclined to get the big head, my friends would deflate it instantly.”

“That’s our job.” She linked her arm with mine and we headed to the rental car.

Lunch was delicious, and it was a pleasure to sit on the patio of the small café and indulge in Tinkie’s company. From the moment she’d arrived, we’d been in one crisis or another. We’d had no time to talk, to giggle and do the girl things we loved.

Sweetie Pie and Chablis were allowed to sit beneath the table as long as no one complained. We slipped them morsels of food, and I was relieved to see that Chablis was perking up with each bite. She still couldn’t jump into Tinkie’s lap, which was a good thing since we would’ve been thrown out of the restaurant.

“I think this movie is going to be a smash,” Tinkie said, stirring some mango concoction that looked cold and luscious.

“It still doesn’t seem real,” I told her. “It’s like a dream, a fantasy. I’m doing the one thing I’ve wanted to do since I was a child. And people say I’m good at it. That I have talent. This is balm to an old wound.”

“They speak the truth.” She pushed her plate back. “You’re also a good detective.”

“Then why am I stumped on this case?” I’d been going over and over it but couldn’t come up with a single reasonable explanation for all the things that had happened.

“It’s strange that Federico never called back.” Tinkie signaled the waiter for our check. “I left a voice mail saying to call one of us instantly and that it was about Estelle.”

“Jovan may have erased it,” I said. “She feels Estelle is deliberately sabotaging the film by claiming all of Federico’s attention.”

“He is her father.”

As a practicing Daddy’s Girl, Tinkie had rigid criteria for the father/daughter relationship. Putting a movie, no matter how great, ahead of a daughter was totally unacceptable.

“I’ll call Graf.” I’d held off telling him about Estelle, but someone needed to let Federico know. Graf could relay the message and perhaps that would inspire the director to call back.

“I’ll call the hospital and check on Estelle,” Tinkie said.

We whipped out our cell phones and had a moment of dueling digits as we tapped in numbers.

“Hello, darling.” Graf had the leading man vocal timbre down pat. He melted me with two words.

“Graf, we’ve found Estelle. She was beaten and tied up and hidden in another secret passage.” The words spilled out.

“Sarah Booth, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. So is Tinkie. And both dogs.”

“Thank God. Who would do such a thing to Estelle?”

“We don’t know.” I told him about our visit to Estoban Gonzalez and how Estelle would have died if we hadn’t found her.

“Can she remember anything about who attacked her?”

“She’s delirious. In fact, Tinkie is checking on her condition right now.” My partner gave me a thumbs-up, but also a shake of her head. “I think she’s holding her own. Critical but stable. We don’t have a lot of information right now.” Tinkie nodded that I’d interpreted her signals correctly.

“Can you bring her to the States?”

“I’ll ask the doctor later today, but I’m waiting for Federico to call. Have you seen him?”

“Actually, no. He left the airport and went straight to editing.”

“I’ve left several messages. Would you see that he knows about Estelle? He might want to be here.”

“I’ll go back to the set and look for him.”

“Graf, be careful. The person who did this to Estelle could be in the crew.”

There was a pause. “What are you saying?”

“Only that Estelle was tied and locked in a closet a while before y’all left. So it could easily be someone in the cast and crew. I think this has to be an inside job. I’m just saying be careful.”

“Now you’ve creeped me out.” He tried to make light of it, but he was disturbed.

“And I saw the ghost again.” I had to tell him.

“Where?” he asked.

“In the secret passage. She sort of led us to Estelle.”

“Did Tinkie see her?”

Now why was that relevant? I’d seen her. That should be enough. “No, Tinkie hit her head and knocked herself out.”

“At least she did it to herself this time.”

“You aren’t even going to ask me about the ghost?” I was disappointed. I wanted Graf to believe me.

“All of this talk makes me want to hop a plane and get down there to load you up and bring you home. Ghost or not, someone is dangerous and determined to harm members of this production.”

“Tinkie and I are heading out in the morning. You don’t need to come and fetch us.” The idea of seeing him again made my stomach knot with anticipation.

“I’m worried for you and for Tinkie.” Graf spoke with passion. “It wasn’t the ghost of Carlita who pushed Suzy Dutton off a cliff, Sarah Booth. It was a real-life, flesh-and-blood murderer. And if that person is still in Petaluma, I want you out of there.”

“And if that person is in Los Angeles, intending to sabotage the film further?”

“I’ll talk to Federico. It might be good to get some security around the set. To protect the cameras and all.”

“Call Sheriff King.” Although the California sheriff was difficult, he also had the ability to protect Graf and the rest of the crew.

“Not a bad idea,” he agreed. “I’ll do those things if you promise to hop the first flight out of there tomorrow.”

“Wild horses couldn’t stop me,” I assured him.

“I love you,” he said before he hung up.

Tinkie closed her telephone about the same time. “Estelle has stabilized, but they’re not sure they can save her hands and feet.” She shuddered as she spoke. “She hasn’t regained consciousness.”

“And Daniel?”

“He’s with her.”

“Let’s stop by there on the way back to the mansion.”

Estelle lay in the hospital bed, dark hair spread on the pillow. Someone had done his or her best to wash her hair and remove some of the blood, but nothing could be done to hide the wide gash that ran from her temple across the top of her head. The doctors had shaved it and done what they could to close the wound.