Stars in the Night

by Cara C. Putman

  “I wouldn’t touch it, but it’s over there.” She pointed the file toward a small table perched against the wall.

  Robert stood and ambled to the pot. The coffee had a thin film over the top. He lifted the pot, sniffed, and then shuddered. “You’re right. That’s not fit for my worst enemy.” He walked the room, studying the photos lining Artie’s vanity wall. Photos of him with the biggest stars crowded the space. Clark Gable. Jean Harlow. Jimmy Stewart. Carole Lombard. William Powell. Bette Davis. Artie never shared which were actually his clients, but the agent made sure people saw him with all the right people. Someday, Robert’s photo would move from a corner shadowed by a plant into a more visible spot.

  Someday. He hated that word. His life seemed filled with the maybes someday suggested. He was ready for something more permanent.

  The speaker on Goldie’s desk sparked to life. “Goldie? Goldie?”

  She hit a button and leaned in. “Yep, boss?”

  “Send that kid in. Right away. I’ve only got a minute.”

  “Yes, sir.” She yelled the words into the contraption loud enough Robert doubted she needed it for Artie to hear her. “Go on in, Bobby. He’s ready for ya.”

  “Thanks.” Robert clenched his jaw and set his back. God, You know how much I need good news. If only he could whisper a prayer and know he’d get exactly what he requested. It never worked that way. No matter how he fired them off, his prayers remained largely ineffective.

  “You want a shove?”

  Robert shook his head. After a quick rap on the door, he opened it, his confident smile firmly affixed. “Artie, my man.”

  “Robert Garfield. How are you?” Artie stood and moved from behind his desk to meet Robert. The small, rotund man bypassed Robert’s hand for a full body hug that Robert endured.

  “Back in town.”

  “So I see, so I see. What can I do for you today?” The agent’s words raced around his cigar and tumbled over each other as he settled one hip against his mahogany desk.

  Robert shrugged. “Wanted to get an update, see if anything’s broken loose.”

  “Still pushing hard for you. Have a couple more screen tests lined up. Good parts, my boy, good parts. You’ll be back to work in no time, I assure you. Check with Goldie before you leave. I’m glad you’re here, though.” Artie maneuvered to his executive chair and sank into its plush leather. “I’ve got a proposition to make.”

  Robert sat on the edge of a chair. “I’m listening.”

  “The Hollywood Victory Committee wants to send out a second Victory Caravan. The first was a rousing success, and they want to build on that, only through the South this time.”

  “And this affects me…”

  “I want you on that train. You’ll be introduced to audiences across America, in the flesh. It’ll remind the ladies why they swoon at your handsome mug in the pictures, the gents can see you’re an ‘every guy’ like them. What do you say?”

  “Is any pay involved?”

  “Nope, just good citizenship, though expenses will be covered.”

  “I’m not a song-and-dance man or stand-up. What would I do?”

  “Whatever they want. Think about the exposure.” Artie frowned and tossed his cigar in the trash can next to his desk.

  Robert paused, but only for show. What held him here until he got that contract? “All right. I suppose it’s my patriotic duty.”

  “Could be your big break.” Artie looked at his watch and launched from his chair. “I’ll get it set up. Find Mark Feldstein at the fundraiser tonight. Make tonight a smash, and you’re a shoo-in to the caravan and contracts. Come back in a couple days to get the details. And knock those screen tests out of the park.”

  “Yes, sir.” Robert stood and then shook hands with Artie. “Thanks.”

  Artie waved him off. “Not a problem. Just do a great job tonight. It’s all coming together.” He pulled a fresh cigar from his pocket and shoved it in his mouth. “I can see it now. Your name in lights.” Artie rubbed his hands together. “Now get. You’ve got an event.”

  After getting the screen test information from Goldie, Robert wandered the streets toward his apartment. The auditions and screen tests started the following day. Today’s only duty was to arrive at the USO fundraiser in plenty of time for his emcee duties. His thoughts traveled back to his companion on the plane. Maybe Audra would be there with Rosemary. He liked that thought. A lot.

  The exercise felt good, but the heat left sweat pooling in the small of his back. He covered another block then loosened his tie, pulled off his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. That felt marginally better, but sweat still dripped down his face. He yanked off his fedora. He reached into his back pocket for his handkerchief, but it wasn’t there. He hadn’t gotten it back from Miss Schaeffer. After wiping his forehead with his hand, he slapped the hat in place. The sun pounded down and drained his energy. Maybe he should have hailed a cab.

  He passed a hacienda with orange and other fruit trees hanging over the stucco wall and slowed to stretch out his time in the shade.

  Would participating in the second Victory Caravan work like Artie thought? Traveling the country trapped on a train with the egos of twenty or more stars sounded exhausting. He’d heard the stories of the drinking, carousing, and barricaded doors from those who traveled with the first caravan.

  That wasn’t him. He might wonder if prayer worked, but he remained convinced God did not condone certain activities. And the rumors indicated those had occurred on the first caravan.

  He reached his building and used the key to access the lobby. Stars on their way up, a few on their way down, along with a few non-cinema types, filled the building. When he’d rented the place, Robert had hoped he’d meet the right people. Hard to do when everyone raced directly to their flats and closed their doors.

  Dead fronds littered the floor around the palm trees filling a corner of the lobby. His shoes tapped lightly on the marble floor. It had been easy to afford this place during his marriage, but after Lana left, he wasn’t so sure he liked living here anymore. Too many memories. But he hadn’t exactly raced to find another place.

  He pushed thoughts of glamorous, hard-hearted Lana Kincaid from his mind. Excuse me, Lana Garfield. How could she still use his name?

  As long as their paths didn’t cross, he ignored the pain of her betrayal. The sting of her rising success after their divorce while his career stalled.

  If he didn’t pull his head together, he’d be in no frame of mind to emcee the fundraiser. Despite Goldie’s assurances, it must be a small event if Artie had snagged it for him. Robert hiked the stairs, deciding the extra exercise wouldn’t kill him and might help him maintain his Jimmy Stewart build. It worked so well for Jimmy, keeping him in boy-next-door roles.

  His phone rang as he unlocked his apartment. In a couple of steps, he stood at the side table, the door still open. “Garfield.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Robert fumbled with the phone at the piercing voice. “Lana?”

  “Of course.” She took a trembling breath, and he pictured her fingers tapping her elbow as she stared daggers through the wall. “You have to bow out.”

  “Of what? The USO fundraiser?” What had her blabbering this time?

  “No.” She snorted. “I couldn’t care less that you’re participating in some small effort for the boys. Artie’s a fool to think that matters.”

  Robert sank into a chair set against the wall and waited. Eventually, she’d tell him the purpose of her call. If he was lucky, his silence would frustrate her enough to talk faster.

  “Still playing games? You are pathetic, Robert.” She paused. “Have you heard I have the lead in Enemy from Within?”

  Calling to gloat? Robert forced his annoyance down. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Can we reach the point?”

  “Pull out of the Victory Caravan. I won’t go if you come.”

  Ro
bert rubbed the pulsing pain that erupted in his forehead. Lana was on the caravan? Artie had left out that important detail. Maybe he didn’t want to go after all. But he also didn’t want to allow Lana to push him around anymore. He had succumbed to her pressure too many times. Probably one reason she’d left.

  “Are you there, Robert?”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry it makes you uncomfortable, but I will be with the caravan. Artie said it’s a done deal, and I agreed to participate.”

  Her breathing turned fast and heavy. “You can’t do this, Robert.”

  “If they want me, it’s my duty to help the war effort in this small way.”

  “Since when have you cared about anything bigger than you?”

  He braced against the pain the words brought. Lana had never understood him. The studio had told them to marry, and he’d lacked the strength and will to say no, a decision he’d paid for ever since. Even with the arranged marriage, he’d tried to make it work and learn to love her. His parents had given him a great example to follow, but everything he’d tried fell short. He’d actually allowed himself to love her, his first mistake. The second came from caring what she thought of him.

  The marriage had been doomed from the start, but he’d fought hard for it.

  Not that Lana acknowledged that. Instead, she delighted in belittling him every chance she got. If Artie had told him she’d be on the train, he’d have killed the idea of joining at that moment. But now that she wanted him to quit, he’d be there. Forget about making an impression on some studio exec. He had to prove her hold on him had expired.

  “I have to get ready for tonight’s event.”

  “You know we’ll be uncomfortable.”

  Robert glanced at his watch then pushed from the table. “I have to go.”

  “Robert, please. Don’t come.”

  Lana begging? He paused but then stiffened his resolve. Her cajoling had no power over him anymore. “If I do, I’ll do something for a cause a lot bigger than you and me. Good-bye, Lana. See you on the train.” He hung up as she screeched in his ear.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  __________

  Audra pressed a hand over her mouth. Stared at the body. Heaved in a tremulous breath.

  Everything was wrong. Everything.

  She forced herself to creep closer to the body. Examine it. She brushed aside the blond hair, sobbing at the realization it wasn’t brunette, Rosemary’s color the last time she’d seen her. This woman looked a few pounds heavier than Rosemary’s slender form, too. Audra knelt down and felt the neck for a pulse, her knee slipping on a towel. Nausea pounded Audra as a putrid smell permeated the tiny room. Nothing pulsed under her fingers.

  She hurried from the room and to the front door. Burst through it, gulped deep breaths of beautiful, clean, orange-infused air.

  “Help me. Somebody please help.” Audra looked around but couldn’t see anyone. All the windows on the side of the building were shut. She wouldn’t get help this way.

  She rushed to the sidewalk at the front of the stucco building and yelled again. Pounded on the front door. “Help. There’s a body.”

  Relief underscored the horror. It wasn’t Rosemary. Tears coursed down Audra’s cheeks at the thought. It wasn’t Rosemary. Thank God it wasn’t. But who lay there? Where was Rosemary?

  And why wouldn’t someone help her?

  Audra felt adrift in an alien land. If this had happened at home, she’d know what steps to take. Here, her mind froze and nothing came. She didn’t even know where to find a phone if a resident wouldn’t help her.

  A window opened, and a lady hung out, curlers dotting her head above her floral housecoat. “Young lady, what is all the noise about?”

  “Please, call the police. There’s a body in Rosemary’s apartment.” Audra’s words rushed out in a high-pitched, reedy tone. Not the voice she’d cultivated during law school. But the image of that body lying in her sister’s bathroom… The vivid picture wouldn’t leave her. The kaleidoscope of pale skin against blue tile mixed with rich red tones in the evening dress. Audra didn’t know who lay there, and that scared her.

  “A body?” The woman stared at her, glasses perched firmly on her nose, seemingly taking in Audra’s appearance. Why did she stand there staring?

  “There’s—a body—in my sister’s apartment.” Audra’s knees weakened as the words stumbled from her mouth. “Can you call the police? Or tell me where to find a phone?”

  “I’ll call.” The woman appraised her one more moment then turned away from the window, disappearing behind a billowing lace curtain.

  Audra walked up and down the sidewalk, rubbing her arms through her jacket sleeves, trying to create warmth when she felt ice cold. The sun blazed down, yet at the core, she felt nothing but frigid emptiness. Questions. Fear.

  Audra shivered uncontrollably. The woman looked like she’d been dead for a while. Audra’s breathing raced until she feared she’d hyperventilate. The longer the body had been there, the longer Rosemary hadn’t.

  Please don’t let me have waited too long. She prayed for peace, but felt none. She’d known something wasn’t right from Rosemary’s last couple of phone calls.

  Why didn’t I do something? If she’d learned anything in law school, it was to follow her instincts. Why hadn’t she? Audra sank onto the front step of the building, the heat from the cement seeping into her.

  A police car pulled in front of the building, lights pulsing, siren silent. A man wearing a navy blue uniform stepped out while another stayed in the car, arms crossed.

  “You the one who called in?” The thin man stood in front of her, feet apart, arms hanging at his sides. He appeared relaxed, but Audra sensed he would respond quickly to danger. The question and his stance gave no indication he knew why he’d been called.

  Audra stumbled to her feet. “I found a body. In my sister’s apartment. But it’s not my sister.” A mix of relief and horror pulsed through her. Tremors shook her. She had to find Rosemary. Before she had to identify her.

  “I’m Officer Josh Trainor and the lug in the car is Officer Matt Jones. Take a slow breath.” He studied her, concern lacing his eyes. “We’ll take care of this if you can show me where you found the body.”

  Audra squared her shoulders, willing strength to flow through her. Do whatever they requested, and then she could find Rosemary. The officer gestured toward the building and started toward the front stairs behind her.

  “Not that way.” Audra moved up the sidewalk to the side of the building without waiting to see if he followed. She stalled when she reached the door.

  “Would you like to wait here, Miss…?” Officer Trainor’s hands rested on his hips as he watched her, eyes soft even as his stance remained firm.

  “Miss Schaeffer.” Audra licked her lips. “Can I have a moment?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He eased her against the wall then pulled his gun and edged around the door. He turned and looked back at the car. “You coming, Jones?”

  “Yep.” The officer opened the car door and slid from the seat. While the first officer was tall and fit, Officer Jones’s paunch spilled over his belt. The car groaned then rocked side-to-side as he stepped out. He ambled toward them, pulling his gun at the last moment. Audra tried to disappear against the building’s side, stomach churning as the officers swept into the front room.

  “Where’s the body, Miss Schaeffer?” Trainor, the thin one, poked back out to look at her.

  “Behind the door. In the bathroom.” Audra stood rooted to the spot and waited. A few rustling movements reached her. She looked around her but didn’t see anything. The noise must have come from the apartment. She frowned. Wouldn’t the officers check the body before rifling through papers?

  Officer Jones strode out the door toward her, his face set in grim lines. “Did you move the body or do anything in there?”

  Audra searched his face, praying for strength. “I looked around the main room before I found the body. I—I didn’t expect
that. That poor woman may have moved when I opened the door. I had to see if she was alive. But that’s all before I ran for help.”

  The policeman studied her, eyes piercing her in a way that made her want to squirm just like when her professors drilled her during law school. It was as if he tested her words against what he saw, checking for truth. When she thought she couldn’t take another moment of scrutiny, he strode to the car without a word. He leaned in and did something with the radio before returning to her.

  Audra longed for a place where she could retreat. Her mind spun with horrid images, but worry knotted her shoulders. Rosemary was in trouble. Audra had to find her—even if she had no idea where to start in this strange city where she knew nobody. And Rosie hadn’t dropped names of friends or men. Other than the black book, she’d have to get creative about where to start looking.

  She should find a hotel room with a bed she could collapse on. Maybe if she took a nap, she’d wake up to find the whole afternoon had been nothing more than a terrible nightmare. Officer Trainor stepped outside and approached her, a sad dip to his mouth. She swayed on her feet, and he steadied her.

  “Jones, location called in?”

  The other officer nodded. “Of course. Detective’s on the way. Should arrive soon.”

  “Good.” Trainor looked around. “Know who?”

  “Franklin.” Officer Jones rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

  “Great. We’ve broken his unwritten rules. I’ll wait out here with her. You guard the apartment.”

  Officer Jones saluted with a frown. “I’m the senior member of this partnership, you know.”

  “And I’m the brains.”

  Audra’s mind wandered as the officers bantered. Jones stalked back to the apartment, muttering as he passed.

  She swayed again, and Officer Trainor tightened his grip on her arm and held her up. “None of that, please.” He led her to his car, where he offered her the passenger seat.