Rabbit trails. That’s what life had become.
Audra waited in the police department’s lobby, shopping bags filled with toiletries and clothing scattered at her feet. She should leave. Detective Franklin either wasn’t coming back or wanted to avoid her. In the fifty-five minutes she’d sat in the uncomfortable, hard-backed wooden chair, all she could do was stare at the peeling paint and steady parade of characters that uniformed officers led through the lobby. The line looked straight out of central casting, with the odd assortment of rogue bad boy, drunk needing to sleep it off, and distraught woman dressed in slip dresses with overdone makeup. The occasional attorney rushed in, briefcase clutched in hand, no doubt on a mission to save a client or two.
Much as she wanted to know the mystery woman’s identity, Audra also needed to know if she could return to Rosemary’s apartment. She’d never felt so uprooted in her life, and knew she couldn’t continue to sleep on Mrs. Margeson’s couch.
The outer doors clanged against the cinderblock walls.
“Come on, Angelina.” An officer dragged a beautiful woman in a party dress into the lobby. Audra stared at the handcuffs that clashed with her diamond bracelets. “You can tell your sob story to the judge later.”
“I only joined him for dinner. That’s all.” She spoke in low, cultured tones. “You know that.”
“That’s what they all say. You might try a creative angle. This is Hollywood after all.”
The woman’s high heels clicked across the tile until the officer took her through a door and into a hallway. Audra could only imagine what lay beyond.
She glanced at her watch. More than an hour had passed while she’d sat in that uncomfortable chair. She should return to Mrs. Margeson’s and place the call home she’d dreaded. Explain her decision to search for Rosemary’s killer to her parents. She stood and walked to the information counter. If she didn’t leave soon, she’d be in the same position she’d been the night before. “Can I leave a message for Detective Franklin?”
The officer behind the desk slid her a pen and paper. “Jot a note there. I’ll see he gets it.”
Audra scribbled Mrs. Margeson’s number down and left the message. “Tell him I’ll be at that number until I hear from him.”
The officer nodded and focused on the next person demanding his attention. Audra returned to her seat and collected her bags. She stood to leave, only to be pushed into her chair as Detective Franklin brushed past her. He startled and turned toward her.
“Miss Schaeffer, what are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.” She rubbed her shoulder where it had connected with the seat. “Can I have a moment?”
He rubbed his hands through his hair, which already stuck out in a dozen directions, as if the Santa Ana wind had brushed its fingers through the strands. The hat he usually wore had disappeared and his suit looked even more rumpled than usual. He sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Five minutes. That’s all I can give you.”
“Thank you.”
He opened the door that separated the public areas of the station from the rest. “Come on. Follow me to the part of this fine establishment where the real work gets done.”
She grabbed her bags then followed him past a couple of rooms with closed doors. He escorted her into the first one with an open door.
“Sorry for the appearance. We don’t have much in the way of conference rooms. We like to keep the suspects uncomfortable.”
The gray walls closed in on Audra. She couldn’t imagine sitting in that small space under a bright light for interrogation. He gestured to a chair on one side of the table.
“Have a seat.”
The hard wooden chair bit into the back of her legs. Detective Franklin perched on the table opposite her. Silence fell and she shifted, trying to find a comfortable position.
“This is your show. What can I do for you?”
“Can I return to Rosemary’s apartment?”
“Yep. Left a message with the landlady to that effect. You didn’t come all the way down here for that.”
Audra took a breath. He was right, and she couldn’t predict how he would react to her next statement. “I’ll be leaving Hollywood in a few days.”
He studied her, and she resisted the urge to shift in her seat like a guilty two-year-old. “Headed where?”
“I’ll be working on the second victory caravan, since you don’t have anything to report.”
“That’s like letting the hen loose in a den of foxes.” She stared at him until he slouched and spread his hands in front of him. “Look, today’s been a mess. Wrong path after false turn. None of which led to any concrete leads. The victim in your sister’s apartment was Rachel Gibson. Sounds like she was on her way to early stardom. A few walk-on roles, with a second or third billing role coming opposite Lana Garfield and Royce Reynolds. Shared their agent, too. Had a few questionable brushes with the law about serving as an escort.”
“Why was she at Rosemary’s?”
“I’m not sure, but best guess at the moment is she’d moved in with your sister since she closed her apartment a week before her death. Rumor has it she was leaving town with no plans to return. Odd, since people talk about her being close to success. Like I said, no concrete leads. It’s not clear why anyone would want to kill her. But at least we have a name to chase down. Maybe the agent can connect some dots for us.”
“Who’s her agent?”
Detective Franklin continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “Could be as simple as she stayed with Rosemary to save cash until she left. Wouldn’t be the first” time for an arrangement like that. She could have been there when someone came looking for Rosemary. We’ll keep digging.”
A name. It was something. “Thank you.”
Detective Franklin studied her a moment. “Why are you really going on the caravan?”
Audra opened her mouth then shut it. What could she tell him? That she had to do something to track down the killer? That she wanted to understand Rosemary’s world? None of those answers would satisfy him. Instead, they’d bring his scrutiny. But she couldn’t lie either. So she kept her mouth shut.
As she met his gaze, she knew she hadn’t fooled him. He shook his head then stood. “Miss Schaeffer, leave the investigating to us. I can’t stop you from going on the trip, but I hope you know how foolish it is to try to discover something about your sister’s death. That’s work for the police and certainly not for a woman.”
She squared her shoulders and met his stare. “My parents have lost one daughter. I won’t do anything to compound that pain. After all, what can happen on a train? Everyone will be too busy to do anything nefarious.”
“Sure. Bad things only happen on terra firma.” He rolled his eyes then crossed his arms as a serious look cloaked his face. “Look. I understand the need to find answers. Really, I do. But leave that to me. We will find them. Maybe not as fast as you like, but we will.”
The mystery woman he’d mentioned earlier flashed in her mind. She couldn’t just leave it to the police. “Then the caravan will give you time to arrest her killer without me to interfere or get in your way.”
“You’re a funny one.”
“I’d call it determined.”
“When do you leave?”
“Sunday. It sounds like we’ll start in Washington, D.C. like the first caravan, but head south rather than follow the northerly course back to Hollywood.”
“All right.” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “Be careful in that apartment. I’m not convinced it’s a good idea for you to stay there, but I can’t stop you. Remember we don’t know what whoever was breaking in wanted.”
Detective Franklin escorted her from the building then paused as he opened the door for her. “Take care of yourself.” He disappeared back inside the building.
Audra stared after him then squared her shoulders and hailed a cab. When she reached the apartment building, she knocked on Mrs. Margeson’s door.
“Come in, come in.” Mrs. Margeson hugged Audra and pulled her into the front room.
“Can I use your phone?”
“Of course. Make yourself at home. I’ll make some tea.” She bustled into the kitchen while Audra worked with the operator.
Finally her mother’s voice came on the line. “Audra?”
“Hi, Mama. Is Daddy home?”
“No. It’s his Lions Club night. Do you have details about when we should get you? We’re scheduling Rosie’s funeral.”
Audra took a deep breath. It might be easier telling Mama and let her update Daddy. “I can’t come home.”
“Why not?” The shock in her mother’s voice wasn’t hidden by the distance.
“I’ve taken a temporary job that will let me get close to many of the people Rosemary knew. Maybe I can learn something that will help us find her killer.”
Mama’s inhalation sucked any hope that her parents would understand. “You would miss your sister’s funeral?”
“I just can’t do that...not again.”
“You listen to me. This was not your fault and neither was your brother’s death. You have to let go of that false guilt. And you need to come home.”
“Mama, I can’t.” The words whispered around the lump in her throat. “I just can’t. I’m so sorry, Mama. I already have nightmares of when I had to identify her body. I want to remember her like she was, not the shell she is now.”
Silence settled between them, Audra too close to losing control to say anything.
“What if you wish you’d come?”
“I can’t do anything for her there, but I can do this. I need to try.”
Audra could almost hear her mama’s prayers. Then a soft sigh whispered across the phone lines. “All right. I don’t understand, but if you think you must, promise you’ll be careful.”
“Yes, ma’am. I promise I won’t do anything foolish.”
“Okay.” Mama blew out hard. “I’ll find some way to explain this to your father. Do not make me regret that. I love you, girl.”
“I love you too.” Audra hung up then refused a cup of tea from Mrs. Margeson before running to Rosemary’s apartment.
She knew this was the right next step even if it felt hard.
She could always say good-bye to her sister, but this was her only chance to find answers.
The rest of the week passed in a rush. Audra met herself coming and going as she spent long hours at the studio and more time running around the unfamiliar city trying to get revised contracts couriered to the caravan’s participants. Mark must have decided she was cheaper than a service even though she had to use a taxi to find anything. The number of people who looked at her and saw Rosemary surprised her. Audra had never thought they’d looked alike. And their friends and family never spent much time identifying similarities. Instead, it was always, “Rosemary’s the looker.” Lose a few pounds and her sister could turn heads like Carole Lombard. Audra had pretty eyes and intelligence. That was it. Not that Audra wanted to be known for her looks, but the comments had stung in ways that didn’t even make sense to her.
She stared out another taxi window, watching the buildings zip past. She should make an effort to understand the city, but instead she let the drivers deliver her without paying much attention to her surroundings.
The envelope in her lap felt heavy. This time she carried it to a bona fide star. Lana Kincaid Garfield. The thought of meeting the vixen who’d broken Robert’s heart bothered her.
And that disturbed her.
It shouldn’t matter who the woman was or what she had done.
It certainly shouldn’t matter what she had done to a man Audra barely knew.
It shouldn’t— But it did.
The only time Audra worried about the caravan was when she considered she’d be in such close proximity to the star and his former spouse.
Who had thought it was a good idea to put them on the same train?
Her chest tightened in a way she didn’t like.
“Here you go, miss.” The cab driver pulled to the curb.
“Can you wait for me?” Everything would go faster if she could tell Miss Garfield her cab waited.
“Sure, but only for twenty minutes. And if you pay me in advance. Otherwise, I have to go find my next fare. Company rules.”
“All right. Here’s what I owe you for getting here and here’s a dollar to wait for me.” Audra closed her handbag, making a mental note to ask Mark for reimbursement. Her cash had reached dangerously low levels with all the cab fares.
The cab driver pulled his cap low over his eyes and slouched in his seat. “I’ll be here.”
Audra slipped from the cab and hurried up the sidewalk. Lana hadn’t been around the studio all week. That would have made delivering her contract too easy. Instead, she’d insisted on taking the week off. A time to “center” before spending all her time with the others on the train.
The apartment building was impressive, with a facade that dripped importance. The stone front had inlaid marble and some other stone Audra didn’t know. A doorman watched her from under the shade of a crimson canopy as she strode up the stone walk.
“May I help you?” His high voice didn’t match his football player physique.
“I have a delivery for Miss Garfield.” She showed him the envelope.
“Is she expecting you?”
“I’m not sure. The studio might have called ahead.”
“You’ll have to wait while I check.” He turned and entered the building, holding the door for her. She followed him to a desk in the corner of the lobby. He picked up the phone, and she looked around while she waited.
Persian rugs in reds and blues laced with gold lay scattered across the highly polished marble floor. Towering palm trees clustered in potted groups around the edges of the narrow room. Add paintings that looked to be authentic Impressionist masters’ works lining the walls and the aura was one of over-the-top opulence.
Miss Garfield must be doing well.
“She’ll see you.” The doorman pointed across the lobby. “Take the elevator to the fifth floor. Hers is the third apartment on the left.”
Audra nodded and walked to the elevator. The doors slid open and a man sat on a stool inside.
“Floor?”
“Five, please.”
The grate doors slid shut and the machine jolted to life. It jerked past floors in a manner that didn’t quite fit with the lobby’s ambiance before bumping to a stop.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you.” Audra stepped from the box and stopped as the doors slid shut behind her. The hallway stood in stark contrast to the lobby. The cream paint looked fresh and the woodwork cleanly varnished, but none of the visible signs of affluence filled the halls. A nice carpet lined the floor, but there was no marble. No paintings or prints lined the walls. Maybe the show in the lobby was enough to set the stage. Appearances mattered even in the buildings? Further confirmation this was not the place for her. Audra needed to get on the caravan, learn what she could, and then return to Indianapolis.
She followed the hallway to the left and found the third door. She knocked and waited. A minute later she knocked again. Lana had to know she was on her way up.
“Coming.” The word sounded imperious and unbothered.
A moment later the lock turned and the door opened. Lana leaned against the doorframe with a bored air. “Yes?”
Audra cleared her throat and held out the envelope. “The studio sent me with your contract. We need your signature on it today.”
The star’s blue eyes held an icy quality as she studied Audra. “Wait here while I read it.” She turned and headed down an entryway, leaving Audra in the doorway.
Audra felt the brush-off. A spike of heat filled her, and she knew chances were good Lana wouldn’t read a word of the document. Audra might not be a star, but she had value. She stalked down the hallway after the star, her heels clicking on the wood-paneled floor.
“So Mark’s got you set to babysit us?” Lana didn’t raise her gaze from the paper in front of her.
“I’ll help with logistics, yes.”
“Honey, there is no way you are prepared for what you’ll see and experience.” The star shook her head, perfectly coiled curls bouncing. “Let me take you out. I’ll make you my pet. Get you all set to turn some heads. Maybe even land a movie star to take care of you the rest of your life or until he loses interest.”
Audra longed for olive skin as she felt the color race to her cheeks. “I’m not here to find a man. I don’t need one for security.”
“That’s what we’d all like to think.” Lana’s lips curled. “You won’t last long here without someone to take care of you. I can guarantee that.”
“Is that what happened to Rosemary? She needed someone to take care of her?”
Lana looked up from her pretend perusal of the document. “Who?”
Audra stiffened. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Rosemary Schaeffer.”
“Her problem was too many men, and none looking after her.”