Kate was eager to look in Bonnie’s glovebox the next morning. If the scarf was there, the one they’d found in Ollie’s office wasn’t Bonnie’s, which meant she probably had nothing to do with the murder. If the scarf wasn’t there, Kate would ask Bonnie about it and watch for signs of guilt.
But as Kate and Aurelio stepped out of the house at 5:40 a.m.—ten minutes later than usual—they saw the yellow car disappearing down the road, and Kate remembered she had her own car now.
“She left without us,” Aurelio said, surprised.
“She knows I borrowed a car from Falcon. You’re stuck with me.”
“I’ll drive. Give me the key.”
“No, I like driving.”
Aurelio grumbled but got in the passenger side.
Tad was already behind his desk, bristling with nervous energy, when Kate walked in. He saw Kate and waved a paper. “The recording studio doesn’t have Aurelio listed, and that has to happen today.”
“It’s probably an old schedule. I talked to them late yesterday, and everything is set.” Kate put down her purse and picked up her clipboard.
“Nobody answers when I call over there.”
“Because the sun isn’t up, Tad. I’ll stop by on my morning rounds.” Kate took the recording schedule and added it to her clipboard.
“That stage set better be done by Saturday. Leo Scully went home with the flu yesterday.”
“I’ll stop by and talk to his assistant.” Kate wrote it on her list, liking that she knew who Leo Scully was and where to find his office. “Take a breath, Tad. I’ve triple-checked, and everything is on track.”
“Bring me a coffee and two donuts before you do anything else.”
“Of course, Mr. Falcon. Priorities.” Kate batted her eyelashes as she headed out the door.
She didn’t stop moving for the next two hours, hurrying from office to office, dropping off papers and picking up other papers, exchanging quick hellos with secretaries who now looked familiar. She spent a half hour in the catering office, straightening out a misunderstanding over how much food would be needed on set the next day, and then detoured to the commissary to pick up a donut for herself, suddenly ravenous.
As she left the commissary, she paused at the side of the road to watch as several flatbed trucks rolled by, carrying caged lions. She’d heard about an African safari movie with Barbara Stanwyck being shot behind the Western town at the back of the studio, but it was too far away for Kate to sneak a peek.
“Wouldn’t want to be on that set,” a masculine voice said, and she turned to see Bonnie’s sandy-haired tutor Glenn Petersen. Kate had met him briefly the day before.
She wiped donut glaze from the corner of her mouth. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Bonnie in dance rehearsal right now?”
“Yep, trying to explain the Louisiana Purchase every time she stops for breath, but she’s not there.”
Kate leaned the clipboard against her hip so she could hold the donut and flip pages at the same time. “Room eight?”
“Room eight,” Glenn confirmed. “Aurelio’s there, but Bonnie never showed up. I waited as long as I could, but I’ve got an English exam.”
One of the lions roared, drawing their attention. The last truck had stopped as the driver talked to someone through his open window, and the lion paced.
“It’s sort of amazing around here, isn’t it?” Glenn asked.
“Amazing,” Kate agreed, finishing her last bite of donut. It was hard to care about calculus with a lion a few yards away, but she licked her fingers and said, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something, Glenn.”
He glanced at his watch. “Can we walk and talk at the same time?”
“That’s all I do around here.” They turned down the sidewalk together. “You go to Caltech, right?”
“First year, mechanical engineering.”
“That’s perfect,” she said. “Exactly what I want.”
Glenn looked at her with a surprised smile. “First time a pretty girl has ever told me that.”
She laughed. “I just meant—I need help with calculus.”
A stream of women in dance costumes poured out of the hair and makeup building, making them stop. The costumes were tight bodysuits, black on one side, white on the other. Glenn raised his voice above the chatter. “You’re learning calculus? I thought you were still in high school.”
“I am, but I’m missing school while I do this movie, and I’m getting behind.” They followed the dancers down the sidewalk, in the wake of hair spray fumes. “Well … I was already behind, but this doesn’t help. I can’t figure out derivatives.”
“Everyone struggles with that at first, but it’s fun once you get the hang of it.”
“I know you’re busy with school and might not have the time,” Kate said.
“I’ll make the time.” He looked down at her with a smile that implied interest in more than calculus.
“I mean—it’ll be part of your tutoring job, paid by the studio.” He was nice looking, in a quiet sort of way, but Kate’s only interest was in his math skills.
The dancers stopped to board a bus, clogging the sidewalk. “So—calculus in high school,” Glenn said, leading the way around the outer edge of the dancers. “That’s advanced stuff for a girl.”
Which irked Kate, but she was used to it. “I’m as good at math as the boys in my class. Better than most of them.”
“Maybe you are. It’s just—” They came out at the other end of the dancers to open sidewalk. “Why bother? You don’t need calculus to be a housewife—or secretary or nurse, if that’s what you want to do. Or even a movie producer.”
“No, but it’ll come in very handy when I’m an astronomer.”
“Astronomer?” He looked amused. “I’ve never heard of a girl studying astronomy before.”
“That’s because you settled for Caltech instead of Cal Berkeley.”
He hooted. “Fighting words. Caltech is a better school than Berkeley.”
“Debatable.”
“Einstein taught at Caltech. And if it’s stars you’re into, our astronomy department is the best in the world. They’re building a new observatory with the biggest telescope in the world.”
“Palomar,” Kate muttered, a bit begrudging. She’d read about the 200-inch mirrored disk and seen pictures of it on its way to Pasadena with a big sign and a lot of hoopla. But it was hard to get excited about the world’s largest telescope when she knew she’d never be allowed to use it.
Caltech didn’t admit girls.
“How can a school be great,” Kate asked, “when it’s blocking out half the brain power of the world?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I can see why you’d feel that way. But it’s a science school, and science is a man’s field—for the most part,” he added, glancing her way. He turned down the side of the building toward the parking lot. “So, does that mean you’re planning on Berkeley? They have a pretty good telescope too, don’t they?”
“Lick Observatory. They discovered Jupiter’s fifth moon and…” She saw Bonnie’s yellow car, and her voice faded.
“Well, this is mine,” Glenn said, patting the hood of an old, black Ford. “Nothing fancy, but it gets me around.”
Kate forced her eyes back to Glenn, her heart racing. “Okay. Well. I’ll bring my math book tomorrow, if you think you can spare a few minutes.”
“Absolutely.” He opened the door of the Ford, but didn’t get in. “And I’ll see you at Bonnie’s party, right?”
“Yes.”
“We can talk about derivatives there.” He waited a beat before grinning. “Just kidding, but a dance would be nice.”
She kept her smile polite. “Certainly. Goodbye, Glenn.”
“Bye, Kate.”
She pretended to walk back the way they’d come, waving as his car passed, listening for the rattle of his old engine to fade—then turned and hurried back to Bonnie’s car.
The passenger door wasn’t locked. Kate glanced both ways in the deserted parking lot, then quickly sat inside and pulled the door closed behind her. She pushed the glovebox latch and it popped open, making her jump.
Two wrinkled maps took up most of the glovebox. Kate pulled them out, looked deeper, and found a man’s handkerchief with a lipstick stain, a flashlight, and a green receipt from a car repair shop. At the very bottom, her fingers found Bonnie’s car key and a pack of Wrigley’s gum that didn’t look very fresh.
Kate turned and looked at the back seat, then bent over to search the floor.
No scarf.
She sank back on the seat, unsure how she felt about that. It would have been better to find it, clearing Bonnie’s name, proving the scarf in Ollie’s office had no connection to Bonnie or the murder. But Kate couldn’t help but be intrigued that the missing scarf matched her theory. Bonnie must have worn it to hide her blond hair when she snuck into Ollie’s house and dropped it by accident. She had a reason to kill Lemmy, a car to get there, and had left evidence behind.
All the clues fit.
But Bonnie didn’t fit; Hugo was right about that. How could she stab Lemmy, and then dance and laugh with Aurelio an hour later as if nothing had happened? Kate’s common sense balked at the idea. It seemed impossible.
But she’d accepted the impossible before.
People weren’t always what they seemed, even more so in Hollywood.
The car was too warm and stuffy suddenly, sweat beading on her forehead. She couldn’t get enough air. She reached for the door handle, her fingers fumbling, her lungs tight, and finally yanked the lever and pushed the door open.
She inhaled fresh air, her heart thumping.
Kate’s fear of enclosed spaces wasn’t as obvious as her fear of the dark, but it was just as strong, taking control at inconvenient moments, like in small bathroom stalls and dressing rooms.
She kept the door open as she folded the two maps with trembling hands, trying to restore some sense of order.
But her mind drifted back to where it shouldn’t go: Aunt Lorna standing next to Kate’s hospital bed, telling her in a tear-choked voice that her parents were both dead. Explaining, in sobbing bits and pieces, how her father had been the one who pulled the trigger.
The impossible suddenly possible.
Kate returned the folded maps to the glovebox and got out of the car.
“Kate!” She whirled, her heart in her throat, and saw Tad at the far end of the parking lot, his hand raised.
She hurried toward him, trying to think of an excuse for being in Bonnie’s car.
But he didn’t seem to have noticed, turning toward the building with palm trees. “Is Leo still out sick? And did you talk to Mei Chen?”
“Leo Scully still has the flu, but the theater set is on schedule, and Mei agrees about toning down the white.” Kate flipped through her clipboard as they walked, quickly recapping everything she’d accomplished in the last two hours. She ended with, “And I talked to Bonnie’s tutor about helping me with calculus. I told him the studio would pay for it. I hope that’s okay.”
Tad shot her a look as they entered the building. “You’re past the age requirement for schoolwork. You don’t have time for that.”
“I’m only seventeen, and missing school to be here, and I need to keep up because next fall—”
“All right, all right, but do it on your lunch break.”
They entered Tad’s office and found Bonnie asleep in Tad’s chair, her head nestled in the crook of her arms on the desk.
“Looks like we have a stray bunny rabbit,” Tad said, amused. He approached with a sly smile, lifted a blond curl, and tickled Bonnie’s cheek with it. She sat up with a gasp, and he laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at dance rehearsal right now?”
Bonnie groaned, slumping in the chair. “I tried, but my feet won’t move. I need some red candy.”
Tad’s smile fell, but he kept his voice light. “What you need is a cup of coffee.”
Bonnie scowled at the beverage cart beside the desk. “I hate coffee.”
“Coca-Cola, then. Stand up, bunny rabbit. I need my chair.”
She complied with exaggerated weariness, turning to lean her hips against the desk. “Really, Tad, can’t I have one? Pretty please.”
“One Coca-Cola, coming up.” Tad picked up a fat stack of papers tied with string and held it toward Kate. “Run this upstairs to my dad’s office, will you? He wants to approve Stella’s changes.”
Kate took the papers, not relishing the thought of entering Clive Falcon’s office again. As she walked through the doorway, she glanced back and found Tad watching her, waiting for her to be gone.
She made it all the way down the hall and halfway up the staircase before the uneasy feeling creeping through her reached her feet. She’d made a promise to Mrs. Fairchild. She quickly retraced her steps, slowing as she neared the office. Carefully … quietly … she peered around the door frame.
Bonnie still leaned against the desk, and Tad now stood in front of her, his hand on her waist, watching with a bemused expression as she drank from a glass. He murmured something in a soothing tone, then noticed Kate and moved back, his hand dropping. “What is it?” he asked too sharply. Then, with false indifference, “It’s the big office at the top of the stairs. You can’t miss it.”
“I’ve been there before. I just wondered if Bonnie wanted to come with me. The walk will wake her up, and then she can go to rehearsal.”
“Excellent idea. Off you go, bunny rabbit.”
Bonnie set down the glass with a happy sigh. “I feel better already. I love a good nap.” She winked at Tad as she walked away—and it struck Kate that Bonnie wasn’t quite as naive as she seemed.
She was a performer.
Kate waited until they were out of view from Tad’s office, halfway up the staircase, before tugging Bonnie’s arm to a stop. “What is that red candy Tad gives you?” she hissed.
Bonnie’s lips pouted. “He just got mad at me for talking about it, but I thought you knew. He doesn’t want people to find out or everyone will want it, and it’s only for stars.”
“I don’t want it. I’m just curious, that’s all.” Kate added in a conspiratorial tone, “He expects me to know everything, but then doesn’t tell me, and I can’t read his mind.”
“He does do that. But you can’t tell Mama or she’ll think I’m working too hard and make me slow down. Tad says he sees it all the time—a girl about to make it big, but her mother holds her back, and her career is over before it even begins. Stars have to make sacrifices. So you can’t tell Mama, promise?”
Kate hesitated. “I promise.”
“It’s just pills that help you wake up. It’s from a doctor and everything.”
Kate waited for a man to pass at the bottom of the stairs before whispering, “It’s a drug, Bonnie. He’s giving you some sort of stimulant.”
“Medicine. It’s good for you, honest. I can dance all night and not even get tired. Except if I take it too late, I can’t sleep and need a sleeping pill.”
“Jiminy Cricket, Bonnie, you can’t be popping pills to wake up and then more to go to sleep.”
Bonnie scowled. “It’s not bad for you. I feel swell when I take it.”
“I’ll bet. It’s not medicine, it’s the studio’s way of working you to death.” Kate wondered how many other stars in the Falcon stable were popping pills to keep up with their grueling schedule of five or six pictures a year, which she knew was standard.
“You won’t tell Mama?”
Kate regretted that promise but said, “I won’t tell her.”
“She invited all these boring old movie business people to my birthday party. You’re coming, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Kate wasn’t sure how to bring up the scarf and decided to just dive in. “Bonnie, I wanted to borrow the scarf in your glovebox, but it’s not there.”
“I know, Aurelio lost it. Mama’s going to be so mad when she finds out. She bought it for me in Paris.”
“Aurelio?” Kate remembered Bonnie handing him the scarf at auditions, asking him to put it in the glovebox for her. Was he the one who’d driven home and dropped it in a scuffle with Lemmy? It might have fallen out of his pocket.
“He says he’ll buy me a new one, but it’s from Paris and everything. He feels terrible.”
Why would Aurelio kill Lemmy? He didn’t know about Ollie’s loan, as far as she knew. Had Lemmy threatened him with blackmail photos?
“I better go,” Bonnie said. She wiggled her fingers and turned away.
“Bonnie, wait.” Kate descended two steps to the girl’s level. “Someone moved your car during the auditions. Do you know who that was?”
Bonnie opened her pretty mouth but seemed incapable of speech for a few seconds, before snapping, “How should I know? I’m very busy around here, in case you haven’t noticed.” She hurried away.
Kate stared after her, stunned—and confused. Clearly, Bonnie knew something about the yellow car being moved. But unless Bonnie was a much better liar than she seemed, Aurelio was the one who’d dropped the scarf and murdered Lemmy.