Wishbones (6 page)

"That's what I intend to find out." Sheriff King stood up. "You can go for now, Miss Delaney, but don't leave the county."

"Are you charging her?" Graf stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. "This is absurd."

Federico cleared his throat. "She must go, Sheriff. We're set to begin shooting day after tomorrow in Petaluma, Costa Rica."

Sheriff King's eyes narrowed. "Very convenient."

"The schedule was set months ago. The camera crews and set designers left this morning. Miss Delaney must go. Without her the filming will be halted. Each day of delay will cost thousands of dollars." His shrug was eloquent. "If you have no real evidence against Miss Delaney, you must allow her to work. Otherwise, I'll be forced to sue the county for any losses and damages to my film."

King's smile widened, and I was reminded of a barracuda. "You movie people think you're above the law."

"Do you have any grounds to charge Sarah Booth?" Graf asked. "What evidence do you have?"

Sheriff King gave him a calculated look. "Not enough. At least for the moment."

Federico nodded and gave a courtly little bow. "Thank you, Sheriff. If you need her to come back to Los Angeles, we'll see that she gets back. Until then, she needs to focus on her work."

Graf offered me a hand to rise. His arm came around me protectively. "Sarah Booth wouldn't harm a fly. Keep that in mind before you start making accusations you're going to regret."

"All of you get out of my office before I change my mind. The dog is waiting for you at the front door."

I didn't need another invitation. I meant to retrieve Sweetie Pie and get out of there. It was only when I was on the sidewalk, Sweetie's leash in my hand, that I heeded Graf's tug on my hand. He nodded to Federico, who was using one hand to support himself against the building.

"Can we do something to help?" Graf asked him.

He shook his head. "It's the shock. Suzy was very special to me."

"You were together for several years." Thanks to Millie's penchant for reading the celebrity magazines, I knew my share of Tinseltown dish.

"Do you really think someone pushed her off a cliff?" Federico asked me. The idea of such a thing brought him great pain.

"It could have been an accident. That's what I tried to tell the sheriff. Those trails are steep and difficult. I've almost fallen a few times."

"But what was she doing in Lettohatchie Canyon?" he asked. "She had no friends there. Suzy wasn't the kind of woman who would go hiking, and certainly not alone. Why was she even there?"

"Did she know Bobby Joe Taylor?" I asked.

Federico's eyes widened. "Perhaps. It's possible he was writing a script for her." The relief that touched his features
told me a lot about his feelings for Suzy. He might have broken up with her and pulled the role of Matty out from under her, but he still cared about her.

"But if she was looking for Bobby Joe, why didn't she come to the front door and knock? Why would she be hiking around the canyon?" Graf looked from me to Federico.

I didn't have an answer, so I kept my mouth shut. It occurred to me that Jitty would be astounded and proud at this most recent display of maturity.

"Suzy often did things the hardest way possible," Federico said with sadness. "When we were seeing each other, she wouldn't ask a simple question. She created these complicated scenarios." He took a deep breath. "I'm sure the autopsy report will answer some of our questions. I'm just sorry that the last time I spoke with her was so long ago."

"When was that?" I asked. The question flew out of my mouth.

"I saw her at M.M.'s party, but we didn't get a chance to talk."

That was an outright lie. "King implied that you'd promised the role of Matty to Suzy. Is that true?"

"Sarah Booth, you got the role because you earned it." Federico straightened his jacket and squared his shoulders. "I never promised Suzy the role of Matty. She assumed it would be hers. Now I should get back to the set and you two get some rest. Tomorrow, Sarah Booth, you'll be flying to Costa Rica, and we begin filming the very next day."

I started to say something to Graf about Federico's shading of the truth. I'd heard him talking to Suzy. Arguing with Suzy. And she'd claimed he promised her the role. But as I turned to tell Graf, he kissed me. Concerns about Federico's messy relationship with Suzy Dutton were scorched from my mind.

By the time we got up the mountain to the house, both Graf and I had regained our senses. We studiously avoided any
physical contact--even eye contact--and began the job of packing. We were both excited about going to Costa Rica. Federico had some family ties there, and we were filming the seduction and scenes between Matty and Ned and the murder scenes at an old family home. Between the excitement and the kiss we'd shared, I feared one or both of us were candidates for spontaneous combustion. We managed to steer clear of each other for the remainder of the night. The power of our attraction had frightened both of us, I think. Opening Pandora's box while we were acting together was dangerous.

Federico had hired a private plane for the entire cast, and we celebrated and drank our way across Mexico and into Central America. A shadow of sadness followed Federico, but he didn't mention Suzy to me, and I decided not to bring up her name. So they'd had an argument. I'd had plenty of them with friends, lovers, and even a ghost. That didn't mean I would be involved in violence.

Besides, I was certain that Suzy had accidentally fallen to her death. That was the only explanation that made sense.

The house at Petaluma was nothing less than spectacular--ochre stucco with a red tile roof, an interior courtyard complete with the most interesting sculptures of various Greek goddesses, enormous bedrooms lavishly appointed, and a staff that met us with trays of mojitos and canapes.

My room had a marble fireplace, and above it a magnificent portrait of a beautiful woman in a red gown, dark-haired with eyes of fire. She looked like someone I would have enjoyed knowing. I was about to unpack my luggage when I heard someone behind me.

A young woman stood in the middle of the room, her slender legs encased in breeches and boots. Her hair, lush and thick, was contained in an elegant French twist, and her white riding shirt was starched and immaculate. She'd opened the door and entered without me hearing her.

"She's lovely, isn't she?" the young woman asked, nodding to the portrait.

"She is."

"Her name was Carlita Gonzalez Marquez."

"Federico's wife?" I guessed.

"Federico has led a very interesting life." She spoke with contempt. "You should ask him sometimes. This was her home, a wedding gift to both of them from her father, Estoban Gonzalez."

"It's beautiful."

"Some people say it's haunted."

I couldn't tell if she was challenging me or not. "My home in Mississippi is also haunted. I think ghosts are drawn to me."

Her face hardened. "Don't humor me as if I were a child. If the film company stays here, you'll get more of a ghost story than you ever bargained for."

She swiveled and strode out of the room, her boots ringing on the stone hallway and then clattering down the stairs. I was about to turn to my luggage when the sheer curtains at the bedroom window puffed on a gust of wind. They took the shape of a slender female form before settling back against the wall.

Gooseflesh danced up my arms, causing me to inhale sharply. I exhaled, feeling foolish to have been so easily caught up in the ghost story of a young woman I didn't even know.

"Jitty would be amused," I said, wondering with a stab of pain if Jitty remained at Dahlia House or if she'd gone on to other lodgings. I had the strangest urge to call home, but I knew she wouldn't answer. So instead I dialed Tinkie.

"Hey,
muy bonita,
cha-cha," I said.

"Sarah Booth, you've finally found the Lord and are speaking in tongues. Do you need rescue or deprogramming or some holy water?"

"That's Spanish," I pointed out.

"Spanish by way of the cotton field. I don't know what you think you said, but it wasn't anything translatable."

I laughed. "I'm unpacking here in Petaluma, and we're all set to film tomorrow. This place is magnificent. It's like a huge old plantation set down in a tropical paradise. One of the staff said I could see the ocean from my balcony." I started toward the windows to see if the Pacific would wink at me. Just as I reached the open window, the outside shutters slammed together with enough force to make me jump backward and drop the phone.

"What was that? Sarah Booth, are you okay?"

I could hear Tinkie yammering away, but I ignored the phone and eased to the shutters. When I looked at them I saw that the latches used to hold them open had both broken. Simultaneously.

I picked up the phone. "Everything is fine. Just a gust of wind."

"Well, I'm glad you called, since we've all been wondering about your latest scrape with the law."

I groaned. "Finding the body of Suzy Dutton?"

"Front page of at least three tabloids. Millie has the story plastered all over the cafe. Harold and Oscar are on standby in case you need to hire a defense lawyer. Really, Sarah Booth, implicated in the case of another dead rival?"

"Oh, shut up. You sound like the sheriff."

"Is it the uniform, or perhaps the nightstick?"

"Tinkie!" I was suitably shocked. "You sound like Cece."

"I have to confess, she said it first."

"I'm okay. I didn't have anything to do with Suzy Dutton's death. We start shooting in the morning, and if I can resist Graf tonight, we should have enough sexual tension between us by morning to melt the silver out of the celluloid. Would you mind asking Millie what she knows about Carlita Gonzalez Marquez, former wife of my director Federico?"

"Will do. Call me when you finish shooting tomorrow. I want a blow-by-blow account."

"What are friends for?" I asked before I hung up.

I walked outside on the balcony for a closer examination. The metal latches that secured the shutters to the wall were snapped in half. Strange that both sides had failed at the exact same moment. Or perhaps they'd been broken and a gust of wind had caught them just right.

I had the creepy sense that someone was watching me, and I turned suddenly to survey the room, half expecting to see the angry young woman I'd seen earlier. The room was empty, but the eyes in the portrait of Carlita Marquez seemed to stare directly into my own.

Creeped out, I fled the room and hurried down the hall to knock on Graf's door.

"Joey, more wind chimes! I want tinkling and low notes! I want to
hear
the music of the wind!" Federico waved the young prop man to the balcony. "Hang them from the roof and trees!"

I sat in the shade, an electric fan sending a cool current of air over me, while they got the set ready. We were shooting Matty on the balcony, hot and sweaty, as a breeze springs up and sets off the chimes. My job was to look hot, in both meanings of the word.

Graf was across the patio, and he winked at me when he caught my eye. He'd already complimented me on the silk dressing gown that plunged almost to my navel. He arched an eyebrow and made me smile.

"Higher! Joey, hang them higher!" Federico yelled.

Joey leaned far out over the balustrade of the balcony, his long thin arms reaching for the branches of a
Cordia alliodora
tree whose branches hovered just out of his reach.

There was a grating sound and even as I started to rise to my feet, I watched the heavy balustrade begin to topple and Joey flail in the air as he plunged from the second story to the ground.

A cry rose from everyone on the set as Joey's body hit the hard earth.

"Joey!" Federico was beside him in an instant. He looked up. "Get an ambulance. Hurry!" He turned his attention back to the prop man and spoke in a low, soothing voice.

A handsome young man rushed from behind one of the cameras and knelt beside Federico and Joey. "I called the emergency number, Dad. Help is on the way."

Joey moaned softly, and Federico brushed sand from the side of his face. "You're going to be okay, Joey. Try not to move. Medical help is coming."

"The balustrade," Joey managed. "It gave."

"It's okay," Federico said. He looked up at all of us gathered around, unsure of what to do. "We'll film in the morning. We're done for the day. Please, leave us."

The cast and crew slowly dispersed. Graf came to stand at my side. "This is awful. Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. The question is, is Joey okay?" I wanted to go over and help, but there was little I could offer. Joey was conscious, and his breathing wasn't labored. It looked as if one arm might be broken, but he didn't appear to be fatally injured.

Graf put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him. "What a crazy accident. That balustrade is cement and at least six inches thick. Isn't that the balcony outside your bedroom?" he asked.

I nodded slowly. "It has the best light and Federico particularly wanted those white flowers from the tree." It was a beautiful shot, and the balustrade looked heavy enough to hold back a herd of zebras.