Work was a welcome distraction the next morning.
The last small family scene was shot, a short break was taken, and then a crowd of cast and crew poured into Stage Six. Everyone’s nerves seemed on edge as they rushed around, preparing for the first big scene in the ice cream parlor.
Tad avoided Kate, remaining close to the director and cameraman, which was fine with her. She had enough on her mind, and as long as she didn’t have to talk to Tad, she didn’t have to tell him she was leaving town.
Aunt Lorna arrived in the middle of the chaos, delivered by a taxi, looking out of place in a chic, plum-colored suit and rigid, cone-shaped hat that was the peak of fashion. She linked her arm with Kate’s for a tour of the enormous building, pausing every few steps to ask questions, fascinated by the frenzied activity around her.
“Such darling little dressing rooms on wheels,” she said, peering through the door of Bonnie’s wardrobe trailer. “So clever, the way they can roll them right into this huge building. This one doesn’t have many costumes in it, but the other one was crowded. Why don’t they spread it out a little?”
“This is Bonnie’s wardrobe trailer,” Kate said distractedly, glancing over her clipboard. “She and Aurelio have their own trailers, and the supporting cast has to share the other two.”
Men shouted overhead, adjusting lights, and Aunt Lorna tipped her head back. “I hope one of those lights doesn’t fall on us.” She took a step, still looking up, and nearly ran into a man carrying a ladder. “I beg your pardon!” she cried, pressing a hand to her chest, but the man didn’t hear, already several strides away. “I’m afraid I’m in the way. Would they mind if I took one of those chairs?”
Kate glanced at the four chairs where actors were having their noses powdered. “Those are for hair and makeup. You can sit on the step of Bonnie’s wardrobe trailer, if you want.”
Aunt Lorna looked at the step with a dubious frown. “I don’t understand why they don’t have more places for people to sit.”
“Because we don’t sit. Everyone has a job to do.”
“I see.” But Kate doubted she did. Aunt Lorna had never worked a day in her life—raised in wealth and then married to a wealthy man. When Uncle Harvey had died, her income had stopped, but she hadn’t gone to work; she’d spent her way into bankruptcy and then found another rich husband. “If I’d known there wouldn’t be chairs, I would have worn lower heels.” A subtle hint that Kate had failed in her duties as hostess. “I suppose comfortable feet are the reason you’re dressed that way. But really, Kate—slacks and loafers? This isn’t a sporting event.”
Kate bit back a response, knowing it was pointless. Aunt Lorna considered herself the foremost authority on appropriate dress. “Make yourself as comfortable as you can, and I’ll be back later.”
“Is there some sort of food service? I wouldn’t mind a—”
Kate hurried away.
Bonnie stood on the far side of the sound truck, her chin raised as the wardrobe manager, Mei Chen, reached down her neckline to insert a discreet safety pin between two buttons.
“Stop chewing your fingernails,” Mei scolded, her face close to Bonnie’s chest.
Bonnie lowered her hand. “I hope I don’t flub the second verse like I always do.”
“That’s why the songs are prerecorded,” Kate said, stopping beside them. “So you can focus on your performance.” She added, “So you and Aurelio can focus on each other while you’re singing.”
Bonnie’s gaze shifted to Aurelio, who had his back turned as he talked to the choreographer. “Does he know I didn’t want him to leave the party last night, it was only Mama?”
“He knows.”
“Then why won’t he even look at me?”
“Because he doesn’t want to cause trouble with Tad, I’m guessing.” Kate glanced over her shoulder and saw Mrs. Fairchild at the coffee cart. “Plus, your mother is here.” Mrs. Fairchild had driven in with Bonnie and remained close all morning, keeping an eye on her daughter’s career.
“Hello, everyone!” Glenn called cheerfully, coming around the sound truck.
Kate muttered, “You have got to be kidding me,” which earned a short laugh from Mei as she worked on the safety pin.
“Glenn, what are you doing here?” Bonnie asked. “I don’t have tutoring on Saturdays.”
“Didn’t want to miss all the fun.” He smiled at Kate. “I brought my books and found a quiet place to study in Stage Five. No one in there today. Maybe you can join me on your lunch break and we can go over calculus.”
“I doubt it, Glenn, it’s a pretty busy day, but thank you.”
“Well, I’ll be in Stage Five if you change your mind. I’ll check back with you later.”
“Places, everyone!” the assistant director called through a megaphone, and the noisy chaos immediately settled down, actors hurrying toward the ice cream parlor. Some sat at the tables, two moved behind the counter, and one picked up a tray of fake ice cream sundaes.
“Almost done,” Mei said, her face close to the safety pin.
Mrs. Fairchild returned with her cup of coffee. “Kate, who was that woman I saw you with?” She took a sip, leaving a stain of red lipstick.
“My aunt Lorna. She arrived last night.”
Mrs. Fairchild’s lovely eyes widened. “Your father’s sister? What’s she doing here?”
Kate hesitated, knowing she should tell Tad first. “She found out about the murder and wants to take me home.”
“You’re not leaving?” Bonnie cried.
“Oh, Kate.” Mrs. Fairchild placed a hand on her arm. “I thought you were going to live with Ollie now. I wanted the two of you to come to dinner next week.”
“Done,” Mei declared, giving the front of Bonnie’s blouse a final smoothing.
“Bunny rabbit!” Tad shouted from twenty feet away. “Bert’s ready! You’re holding things up!”
Bonnie looked at Kate, a bold question in her eyes.
Kate shrugged. “Now or never, I guess.”
Bonnie inhaled with a shaky smile and turned to face him. “Don’t call me bunny rabbit!”
He didn’t seem to hear, talking to the director.
“Don’t be difficult, darling,” Mrs. Fairchild said, giving her daughter a nudge. “Go on.”
But Bonnie didn’t move, her fists clenched at her sides, her cheeks flushing a splotchy red. She lifted her chin. “I said … don’t call me bunny rabbit! I am not an animal! Call me by my name!”
Heads turned.
“Bonnie,” Mrs. Fairchild scolded, appalled.
Tad turned slowly, glanced at the watching crowd, then said with strained patience, “Miss Fairchild … would you be so good as to grace us with your presence so we can begin filming?”
Bonnie smiled pertly. “Yes, I’d be happy to.” She strode over, with her mother beside her, hissing in her ear.
As the director walked Bonnie and Aurelio through the scene, Tad sidled up to Kate. “I take it you’re the one who put her up to that.”
Kate kept her eyes on the ice cream parlor. “You demean her when you call her fluffy little names.”
“The nickname fits. Hopping around like she doesn’t know where she is half the time. Nothing but fluff between the ears.”
She kept her voice low. “Smart enough not to stay in a bungalow alone with you.”
His head turned sharply. “What did she tell you?”
“Enough to know you’re the animal here, preying on a fifteen-year-old girl.”
“How dare you judge me.”
“Not judging, Tad, just good advice. That’s what you pay me for. And here’s some more: Treat people with respect and they’ll give you the same. That’s how you convince them you’re not just riding your father’s coattails.”
“Lights!” the assistant director called, and the room darkened, except for those on the ice cream parlor.
Tad glared at her a moment longer, then walked away to stand near the camera.
“Camera rolling!” the assistant director called. “Action!”
Immediately, the actors turned into characters, smiling over banana splits, a man wiping a glass behind the counter. Bonnie sat at a table with friends, swapping lines. Kate couldn’t hear the words but had watched enough rehearsals to spot the mistakes: Bonnie forgetting to sip from her soda, causing an awkward pause before her next line; not taking the theater ticket her friend handed her.
As Bonnie left the table, looking glum because the town’s theater was closing, Aurelio entered the ice cream parlor. She dropped her sweater, and when Aurelio bent to pick it up, they bumped heads. They both straightened with a laugh, in what was supposed to be a cute first meeting, but Bonnie looked nervous, her face still flushed from confronting Tad.
“Cut,” the director called. He approached and gave her a little pep talk, patted her shoulder, and returned to sit next to the camera.
“Come on, girl,” Mei muttered, watching beside Kate. “Shake off the nerves.”
Aurelio said something close to Bonnie’s ear and squeezed her hand, and it was like a light turned on inside her. They exchanged a warm, personal smile, their gazes holding, then returned to their starting places.
“Action!”
This time, Bonnie moved through the scene with ease, interacting naturally with the other teenagers. She left the table, dropped her sweater, and laughed sweetly after bumping heads with Aurelio. The moment felt real, their smiles shy but hopeful. They left the ice cream parlor together and strolled along the sidewalk, into the soft lighting of streetlamps.
Bonnie started singing, and the sound team started the voice recording on cue, her voice filling the building, surprisingly rich and heartfelt for such a young, petite girl. Aurelio joined in on the chorus. His voice wasn’t as exceptional as his dancing but provided a nice background to Bonnie’s. He looked comfortable and happy with the camera rolling—like himself—and Kate was glad he hadn’t learned the fake accent well enough to use after all.
Pretended not to learn it, she suspected, forcing publicity to quickly scratch the exotic backstory of him being discovered in Mexico as he drove a donkey cart.
“Now that’s electricity,” Mei murmured near Kate’s ear. “They’re going to light up those movie screens.”
But Kate wouldn’t be here helping it happen, only watching in theaters like everyone else.
“Cut!” The voice recording stopped abruptly. Bonnie listened to the director, and then trotted toward Kate and Mei. “The close-up shows red lipstick on my collar.”
“No doubt your mother’s shade,” Mei muttered. “Come into the trailer. We’ve got the backup dress.”
As they approached the wardrobe trailer, Kate spotted Aunt Lorna talking to someone near the coffee cart, probably complaining that her favorite brand of tea wasn’t there.
“How did it look?” Bonnie asked breathlessly.
“Amazing,” Kate said. She followed them into the trailer and shut the door behind her.
“It’s so much fun when it’s for real and—” Bonnie’s blue eyes widened, staring behind Kate. “My scarf! What’s it doing here? I thought Aurelio lost it.”
Kate spun to see the black-and-white polka-dotted scarf hanging from a hook by the door. She frowned, knowing that was impossible. Hugo had taken the scarf to the pool house for safekeeping. Even if everything he’d said was a lie, he had no way of getting the scarf into Bonnie’s trailer—and why would he?
“We found it in the wardrobe department a few days ago,” Mei said, pulling a dress off a hanger. “I kept forgetting to give it to you.”
“I’m so glad,” Bonnie said. “Aurelio felt terrible.”
Kate took the scarf off the hook and stared at it, thinking back to where it had been: Bonnie wearing it, Aurelio putting it in his pocket, Hugo sneaking it from Aurelio to plant as false evidence, Hugo pretending to find it in the office to divert suspicion from himself.
And yet, here it was.
Or was it? Kate ran her hands over the silk fabric and realized the polka dots were bigger, and it didn’t have a chain design around the border. The same Chanel label, but not the same scarf Hugo had picked up in Ollie’s office. “Bonnie, this isn’t yours. The polka dots are too big.”
Bonnie glanced up as she stepped into the new dress. “That’s mine. It’s my favorite.”
“It’s hers,” Mei said. “I’ve seen her wearing it enough times. Felix found it in one of the men’s dressing rooms.”
“Aurelio must have lost it there,” Bonnie said, sliding her arms into the sleeves. “Kate, will you put it in my car before I lose it again?”
“Sure,” Kate said faintly.
She left the trailer and walked toward the outer door, looking down at the scarf, trying to make sense of it. If this was Bonnie’s scarf—put in Aurelio’s pocket and dropped in the wardrobe department—the one they’d found in Ollie’s office wasn’t.
“Weather finally cooling down,” the man stationed at the door observed. He had the job of bolting and unbolting the door whenever filming stopped and started to prevent disruptions.
“Yes,” Kate murmured. The fresh air felt good. She spotted Bonnie’s yellow car at the deep end of the alley and walked that way, circling the back end of a car that was parking.
The only reason she’d thought the scarf had something to do with Lemmy’s murder was because she’d thought it was Bonnie’s. But it had probably been in Ollie’s office for years, unrelated to the murder, just part of an old costume. Or maybe dropped by Stella Nixon on one of her visits.
Hugo didn’t plant it.
She gave a little laugh of relief, wondering what else she’d gotten wrong. She’d overheard one conversation and jumped to conclusions, without giving Hugo a chance to explain. He’d stolen from Mrs. Fairchild, yes, but to help his friend. Stealing was wrong but a far cry from murder.
She walked faster toward the yellow car, overcome by a desperate need to talk to him. Hating how things had ended last night. She could call him on the phone. Or better still, sneak away from the studio and drive home. She hastily returned the scarf to the glovebox, shut the door, and looked up—
To see Hugo getting out of the car that had just parked.
Kate stared in amazement. He’d come to see her, as eager to set things right as she was. “Hugo!” she called, hurrying toward him.
His head snapped around, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of Kate—not glad to see her.
Her heart slipped a little. “What are you doing here?”
Hugo cast an anxious glance at the otherwise deserted alley. “I can’t talk right now.” He walked around the back of his car to the passenger side, and she realized he was wearing a white jacket for some reason. Up to something, obviously.
Her heart tumbled the rest of the way. “How did you get past the guard at the gate?”
Hugo opened the front passenger door and pointed to a tray of sandwiches on the seat. “Catering costume. I gave him a sandwich.”
A lot of effort to sneak into Falcon Pictures. Her voice chilled. “I overheard you talking to Reuben last night. Did the two of you—”
“Kate—I can’t talk right now, but I’ll find you later. Pretend you didn’t see me. Pretend you didn’t see this.” Hugo leaned into the car, reached into the glovebox, and straightened with a gun in his hand. He stuck it into his back waistband and pulled the white jacket over it.
“Hugo! What are you doing?”
“Just a precaution. Keep your distance, and I’ll explain later.” His eyes met hers, burning with their usual fire, lighting a matching flame inside her—despite everything. “Kate, I know who killed Lemmy.”
“What?” She’d thought Hugo was the killer—until she’d seen Bonnie’s scarf—and now he had a gun. “Hugo, please—whatever you’re doing—whatever you’ve done—”
He placed a hand on her cheek. “Wait here so I can find you. Trust me, Kate.” He kissed her, his lips warm and already familiar, then pulled back with a fleeting smile. He lifted the tray of sandwiches and hurried toward Stage Six.
Kate stood frozen, still feeling his kiss, watching as the man at the door allowed Hugo to enter with his white catering coat and tray of sandwiches.
And gun.
Kate groaned and hurried after him.
She halted inside the door, momentarily blinded by the darker interior. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw Hugo’s tray of sandwiches on a nearby table—no longer needed to trick the guard, his hands now free to hold a gun. She whirled, searching, and found him skulking along the outer edge of the interior, his eyes scanning the cast and crew, seeming to look for someone.
She started after him.
“There you are!” Mei grabbed her arm. “Drive over to the wardrobe building and tell Felix we need those extra shoes after all. I called, but no one picks up.”
“I can’t—I’m sorry.” Kate pulled free and hurried after Hugo, halting a few steps later when she saw Aunt Lorna ahead. Kate veered to avoid her, hurried around a cluster of actors, and spotted Hugo disappearing behind the sound truck. She broke into a trot, but by the time she’d rounded the truck, he wasn’t there.
She turned, her eyes darting.
Why did he come here? If he knew who killed Lemmy, why not call the police? Why sneak into Falcon Pictures with a gun? To seek his own justice? He hadn’t even liked Lemmy.
Whatever he planned couldn’t be good.
“Places!” the assistant director called through the megaphone, and Bonnie and Aurelio returned to their marks near a lamppost, ready to sing again with Bonnie wearing her new backup dress.
The building was about to darken. Kate turned, her heart thumping, and saw a telephone on the wall. She should call the police. Or at least shout a warning.
Trust me, Kate.
Her fingers touched her lips. She didn’t want to call the police on Hugo. She wanted to talk to him and hear a reasonable explanation.
She wished he hadn’t kissed her.
A white jacket caught her attention near the outer wall, and she hurried toward it, only to find the actor who worked behind the ice cream counter—and it occurred to her that Hugo might have removed his jacket to blend in.
“Lights!” The room darkened, except for the soft glow of streetlights around Bonnie and Aurelio, which meant the door had just locked for filming. Which meant Hugo couldn’t leave the building. “Camera rolling!”
Kate moved as quickly as she dared, sticking close to the outer wall so she didn’t disrupt the filming now underway, her gaze skimming. She stepped carefully over cables and detoured to look around large equipment. At this rate, it would take ten minutes to walk the perimeter of the enormous building. She circled behind the set, where it was darker, her heart racing.
Bonnie’s singing filled the air, soon joined by Aurelio’s, and the romantic lyrics heightened Kate’s resolve to find Hugo. He deserved a chance to explain himself, and she deserved an explanation.
She heard footsteps and spun around, but it was only two cast members—a boy and a girl, stifling giggles as they disappeared behind a truck.
The music stopped for a moment, then started up again at the beginning.
She passed the halfway point and walked faster. Hugo wouldn’t be here behind the set; he was looking for someone. But who?
As she reached the populated end of the building again, the lights flared on, making her squint. “One hour lunch!” The building erupted in noise and movement, everyone flowing toward the now-open doors. Kate ran to a ladder and quickly climbed, turning her head to search the moving throng, but Hugo wasn’t there. Maybe he’d been the first person out the door. Or maybe he’d left before the doors were locked. He may have even driven away.
She descended the ladder and made her way out to the alley. Hugo’s car was still there—Reuben’s car, she guessed. She hurried to it and looked in the windows, then turned and scanned the alley, sighing in frustration. “Hugo, where are you?” she muttered.
She forced herself to think logically.
He’d come here with a purpose, because he knew who killed Lemmy. The gun was a precaution, he’d said—probably Reuben’s gun. He wouldn’t want to confront a killer in crowded Stage Six, where the lights went out at a moment’s notice, and he had to be silent, and the doors were locked. He would find the killer and suggest they go somewhere private.
Her gaze landed on the door to Stage Five, across the alley, where the theater set had been rebuilt. She hurried to it and stepped inside, then paused to let her eyes adjust.
The vast space seemed deserted, only a single light at the far end, casting ominous shadows over the old theater set. Kate walked tentatively closer, her heart racing, her footsteps the only sound.
“Hugo?” Her voice echoed.
Someone sat in the front row of the audience seats—the silhouette of a man or older boy. “Hugo?” He didn’t move, and a new dread filled her. She walked faster, hurrying down the center aisle of audience seats, her eyes riveted on the dark silhouette. “Hugo, is that you?” She rounded the front corner in front of the orchestra pit.
And halted with a yelp.
It wasn’t Hugo.
Bonnie’s tutor, Glenn Petersen, sat in the middle of the front row, his head tilted slightly, his eyes staring at nothing, with a bullet hole in his temple leaking a stream of red.