Kelsey Roberts - Undying Laughter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For the one person who has kept me sane for almost fifteen years–Bob, I love you with all my heart.

I would gratefully like to acknowledge the assistance of Pat Harding, Kay Manning and Carol Keane of Charleston, South Carolina: my crack research team.

Destiny Talbott—She has nothing to laugh about. She’s being wooed by a stalker.

Wesley Porter—The chivalrous white knight. He is charming, if a bit peculiar.

David Crane—As Destiny’s agent, he controls her career, but at what cost?

Gina Alverez—She was at the center of the limelight before she was forced into Destiny’s shadow.

Walter Sommerfield—The patron who controls the purse strings. He’s being controlled by a ghost.

Carl Talbott—Destiny’s father. He’s annoying, when he’s sober enough to care.

Rose Porter—The manipulative mother. She knows what’s best.

Shelby Hunnicutt—Destiny’s rock. She understands the torment Destiny is suffering at the hands of the stalker.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

“He’s out there!”

Destiny Talbott’s violet eyes fixed on her friend’s concerned reflection in the mirror. Gina’s slender form seemed to heave under the weight of her urgent, shallow breathing.

A placating sigh escaped over full, rosy lips. “For God’s sake, Gina, don’t start that! ” Destiny was mildly annoyed as she watched Gina anxiously twist her long-fingered hands into a knot of deep brown skin. Spinning, Destiny turned the chair in order to face the taller woman.

“That man gives me the creeps,” Gina persisted. “There’s something evil in the way he just sits there, staring at you. You’re blinded by the lights, but I’ve watched him while you’re up on stage. I tell you, he’s freaky!”

Standing, Destiny tugged off the protective cloth she wore when applying stage makeup and tossed it onto the dressing table. Bottles clinked and swayed but none toppled. “Your imagination is getting the better of you,” she said with more conviction than she actually felt. Ignoring Gina’s grunt of disagreement, Destiny bent forward at the waist, then began to feverishly brush volume into her mane of silky blond hair.

“Five minutes, Ms. Talbott!” a male voice shouted from the other side of the door.

“You got it!” she yelled back.

Gina reached out and placed a tentative hand on Destiny’s forearm. “Think, girl.” The tone of the voice was almost pleading, and at strict odds with the harsh Brooklyn accent. “I’m sure he’s the one who’s been sending you the flowers and...the notes.”

A shiver danced along her spine, but Destiny managed to keep her expression bland. “I think you’re overreacting. And anyway, he doesn’t look like the type.” Of that she was only mildly confident.

When Gina had first noticed the man, Destiny had made a point of checking him out. While she secretly admitted he looked out of place in the rowdy, younger crowd she tended to attract, he didn’t impress her as being threatening. And the notes were nothing if not threatening.

“We’re ready, Ms. Talbott!”

Sucking in one deep breath, Destiny took one final glance in the brightly lighted mirror. Giving Gina’s hand a light squeeze, she moved toward the door.

The muffled sound of the crowd caused a familiar and immediate reaction. Adrenaline rushed through her small frame, and her heart pounded against her ribs.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Miami Comedy Club is proud to present Destiny Talbott!”

The roar as she stepped onto the stage was nearly deafening in its intensity. The wooden floor beneath her feet vibrated in sync with the applause. Clasping the microphone in one professionally manicured hand, Destiny gave a warm smile that produced yet another outburst of hearty appreciation.

“Hi, folks,” she began as she walked back and forth on the planked floor, speaking into the bright void created by the harsh spotlights. “I always start by explaining my name. Only two hippies would dare name their child something as ridiculous as Destiny. My folks were definitely confused back then. My father was a Jehovah’s Witness and my mother was an atheist. So...” She paused. “I spent my childhood knocking on doors for no reason. I’m originally from D.C—” A smattering of applause indicated there were a few residents of the nation’s capital in her audience. “Washington is the home of our judicial system. In fact, we Americans are so hung up on compassionate justice that before we execute someone by lethal injection, we swab their arm with alcohol.” Destiny waited for the rumble of laughter to die down before continuing. “I’m getting my mail forwarded here, and what do you know but I got an invitation telling me my high school reunion is scheduled for this spring. This basically means that four hundred or so people have about six months to lose fifty pounds and make something of themselves.” Smiling, Destiny pulled the microphone fractionally closer to her glossed lips. Wrapping herself in the ensuing laughter, she continued her routine....

* * *

HE WATCHED HER, pure hatred glistening in his eyes. Lifting his glass to his mouth, he listened as the audience responded to her. They were fools, all of them. Couldn’t they see what she really was? A user...and a whore. He saw through all her polish and glitter. When she smiled it made him want to stand and scream. Instead, he took a long swallow of his Scotch, enjoying the painful warmth as it slid down his constricted throat. He would be patient. Everything was planned.

As his eyes followed her movements across the stage, he played it all out in his mind. She’d beg, he knew that. Clearly he envisioned her huge eyes wide open and filled with the fearful certainty of her impending death. He’d make sure she suffered first.

Another response from the audience jarred him back to the present. Fixing his eyes on her, he was careful not to reveal any emotion. The sheer hose encasing her legs shimmered in the lights. He would wait until the time was right.

* * *

“YOU’VE BEEN GREAT! Thanks!” Destiny bounced off the stage as the audience chanted her name.

“You were hot tonight!” David Crane, her manager, said as he handed her a towel.

“Thanks!” she said and took the glass of water thrust in her direction. “This was my best show yet!”

“You say that every night,” David countered as his hand went to the small of her back, leading her in the direction of her dressing room.

“Tonight was...I don’t know, I just felt a certain electricity from the audience. It was a rush!”

Pushing open the door for her, David nudged her inside the small dressing room. The scent she had grown to detest brought on a sudden paralysis. It was the heavy, sweet aroma of gardenias. A chill, fierce and overpowering, settled on her like a heavy blanket.

“Blast it!” David bellowed.

She stood frozen just inside the door. David pushed past her and went over to the offensive pot of blossoms. Slowly he pulled the small white rectangle from among the flowers and tore into the envelope.