CHAPTER FOURTEEN
__________
A couple of hours later, Audra hailed a cab to take her to the Masters Studio. Throughout the ride, she couldn’t shake the question of whether she should travel home for the funeral. Of course Rosemary’s sister should attend, but her stomach churned so at the thought that she’d feared she’d get sick in the cab. She imagined looking in the casket and seeing Rosemary, feeling the waves of accusation and guilt that she hadn’t done enough, just like when she’d walked past her brother. Surely it was more important to find Rosemary’s killer than attend her funeral. Even as the thought entered, the anger and grief competed.
This had to be the right thing. If only someone else would tell Mother and Daddy. They would never understand.
The red brick warehouse-style building wasn’t what she expected. Newsreels showed complexes—multiple buildings with every square inch covered with sets, people, and chaos. Instead, this felt more like a school after all the students had gone home.
“Want me to wait for ya?” The cabbie turned around in his seat to glance at her.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
“Just call the company and someone can come get you when you’re ready.”
Audra paid the cabbie and slid from the vehicle. Working for the studio on a victory caravan? She felt singularly unprepared for the task. What did she know about babysitting movie stars? Surely they all had oversized egos—except Robert, who seemed to have avoided that. She shook her head. Everybody had an angle. His would come to the fore soon enough.
Until then, she’d guard her heart. Love was the last thing she needed to add to the mess of her life. The one time she’d opened her heart to a man, he’d made it clear after a month of wooing that he was only interested in her as a way to get her close to him. Her cheeks flushed red at the memory of what he’d tried to talk her into. After that experience, she didn’t trust herself to read men correctly. And in her field, she needed to hide her femininity as much as possible to be taken seriously. While romance bloomed on the pages of the novels she read, it never graced her life until she met Robert. But romance, especially with someone who lived here, and a star at that, just didn’t seem right. Not now. She’d lived a fine, if lonely, life in recent years. She’d make out all right for another couple months until she rebuilt her life in Indianapolis.
Audra entered the building through a set of doors on the left-hand side. All the peace showcased on the outside of the building disappeared in the lobby. People ran every which direction, some bouncing off each other in their haste to get wherever they were going. Audra stood inside the door and stared. It didn’t seem safe to venture into the fray. Especially when a woman who sat at the desk on the far side of the room scowled as she yelled into her phone.
“You see here! Those costumes were supposed to be delivered yesterday. Do you want us to send you a bill for the cost of every hour delay in filming? I can have it on your desk first thing in the morning.” She listened a moment and a satisfied smile curved her lips. “I thought so. We’ll expect them here within the hour.” She hung up without even a thank you.
Before Audra could attempt to get her attention, a second phone on the desk blared to life. Maybe this had been a terrible idea. Even worse than she initially thought.
She should catch the next flight headed east toward Chicago and begin the process of returning to Indianapolis. She could tell the police where to ship Rosemary. Prepay for the delivery and get out of this crazed town. Yes, that was the thing to do.
The door blew open behind her and Audra stumbled. A firm grip on her arm steadied her. She disengaged herself and turned to look.
“Jumping Jehosaphat!” Audra staggered backward, away from the star she easily recognized from Saturday matinees.
Royce Reynolds laughed, revealing perfectly even teeth. “I get that reaction all the time.”
“I guess you do.” Audra closed her eyes and ordered her pulse to return to normal. Wait until the girls heard about this. As if telling them about her magical night with Robert Garfield wasn’t enough, now she’d bumped into Royce Reynolds. His blond good looks were even more eye-catching in living color than in black and white on the big screen. His hair looked rumpled and stood on end as if the wind had blown him in. He towered a good head above her and wore casual clothes that made it look like he’d breezed in from a golf course.
“So what brings a fair lady like you to this madhouse?” He cocked his head and studied her a moment. “I don’t know you, do I?”
“No, I’m quite certain we’ve never met.”
“Hmmm, your eyes are familiar. And I make it a practice to never forget a beautiful woman.”
Audra suppressed a sigh as she jolted out of the star-struck moment. Slightly curved, cornflower blue eyes were the only feature that Rosemary and she had shared. “That sounds like a tried and true piece of dialogue. And I assure you, you’re thinking of my sister, Rosemary Schaeffer.”
The star snapped his fingers. “That’s it. But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” He swept his arms across the expanse of lobby. “You look a tad shell-shocked.”
“I’m here to meet with Mark Feldstein.”
Royce frowned, the light fading from his eyes in an instant. No wonder he was so good on film. “I can think of a dozen ways you could have more fun. Mark likes to spend all his time with a movie, book, or escort. Really you’d enjoy lunch with moi more.”
“Oh, no. I mean—I’m sure I’d like that, but I have an appointment.” She remembered seeing Royce’s name in Rosemary’s book and wondered if she should abandon the meeting for lunch with him. But maybe he’d join the caravan and she could talk to him then. She needed this job to finance her extra time in Hollywood.
“Well, if you insist on being a spoilsport.” He paused, as if giving her time to change her mind. “Let’s get you taken care of. Betty, this gal needs Feldstein.” He yelled the words across the room to the receptionist.
She waved at him then gestured to the phone she held to her ear. Audra grimaced as Royce grabbed her arm and led her through the maze of people to the desk. The guy would leave a mark in his eagerness to help.
The circular desk looked like a piece of sculpture. The surface curved in front of Audra with inlaid wood, forming a mosaic that featured a camera and some other film equipment. In contrast to many of the people running around, the receptionist was fairly plain with her dark hair held back severely in an ear-pulling bun. Intensity emanated from her in a way that seemed to fit the pace of her job.
Betty hung up the phone and looked at Royce. “Yes?”
“Not me, her. Miss Audra Schaeffer here to see Feldstein.”
A soft look swept across the woman’s face. She reached for Audra’s hand. “I am so sorry to hear about your sister.”
Audra swallowed hard, undone by the sympathy. “Thank you. Is Mr. Feldstein available?”
“Let me check for you. Are you expected?”
“I think so. Mr. Schmaltz arranged everything.”
Betty nodded and hopped on the phone.
Royce looked at Audra from under hooded eyes. “Artie, huh? That man is always arranging something, though you don’t seem his type.”
“Yes. I mean I’m not trying to be his type.”
“Be careful around him.” Royce shook his head. “You don’t seem the sort to fall in with him.”
Heat flared up Audra’s neck. “It’s nothing like that.”
“That’s what they all say. Well, I’ll be seeing you, kid.”
“Mr. Feldstein will be out in a moment.” The phone rang again, and Betty picked up another receiver. “Masters Studio.”
A moment later a large man in a finely tailored suit bustled into the lobby, his blue gaze fixed on Audra. “You must be Miss Schaeffer.”
“Yes, sir.” He took her hand and thrust it up and down twice in a vigorous motion.
“Mark Feldstein. Come with me.” His blond hair flop
ped over his forehead in long waves, leaving Audra to wonder how he could see. He strode through the crowds, not waiting for people to get out of his way. Audra followed in his wake. “So why do you want to do this? Babysit a bunch of stars for three weeks?” He turned and studied her a moment. “You don’t seem the star-watching type.”
Should she be offended? Audra looked down at her evergreen suit. She might not have Rosemary’s flair, but maybe in this town she needed to develop another style to be taken seriously.
“Honestly, I need a job.”
He took off again. “My office is in here.” He gestured toward a door then opened it.
Audra paused in the doorway. Papers, books, and paraphernalia covered every available surface and were piled at least a foot high on the lone visitor’s chair. “Are you sure there’s room for me?”
He arched an eyebrow then moved to the chair and swept the papers to the floor. “Better?”
“Thank you.” Audra kept her chin high and eased onto the chair.
Mark moved around the desk and sat. “All right. This caravan will mirror the earlier one. This studio is in charge of providing the support staff, but the stars will come from across Hollywood. If you’re hoping to meet Bing Crosby or Cary Grant, you’ve selected the wrong train. They won’t make this trip. Instead, we’ll have Victoria Hyde, Royce Reynolds, and folks like that. Think you can handle that?”
Audra nodded. Based on what she’d seen of Victoria earlier, she’d be fine.
Mark studied her, beating his hands against the edge of the desk in some kind of rhythm. “Okay. You’re on to help babysit twenty or so stars and performers. Should be a laugh a minute. Come back tomorrow, and we’ll get organized. We’ve got less than a week to get those stars on the train, finalize venues, and work with the papers and radio stations to get the word out.”
“Yes, sir.” She played with her purse a moment. This whole job seemed too easy. “Don’t you need references or more information from me?”
“While that might be nice, I don’t have time. You’re willing and available and Artie vouched for you. That’s good enough.” He pulled a stack of paper in front of him and flipped through it. “Don’t forget. First thing in the morning, here with me. And do something about that hair. You have to look the part, even if you aren’t a star.”
“Nobody will care if I’m on the train or not.” In fact, she hoped she could blend into the background and learn what she needed. It would be easier to watch others if they forgot she existed.
“You’ve got a lot to learn about this city. It’s all about appearances.” He flicked a hand at her. “Now get out of here, and check in with Betty in the morning.”
Before she could stand, Mark signed a paper then picked up his phone and started barking orders. Audra clutched her handbag and slipped into the hall. If she was going to live on a train for three weeks, she’d better raid Rosie’s closet and do some shopping. Her suitcase and its contents weren’t prepared for the extension to her trip. With her small caravan salary she could purchase a few supplements to what she’d brought with her.
Maybe she’d stop by the police station first. Try to learn new information about Rosie’s murder or whether police had identified the other woman. Surely the police knew something by now. Detective Franklin wasn’t the type to let grass grow under his feet.
Betty looked up when Audra entered the lobby. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. I’ll be back tomorrow. Do you know where I can hail a cab?”
“One minute.” Betty picked up her silent phone. A minute later she smiled and hung up. “You’re set. You can wait here or outside.”
“I’ll wait out there.” Audra headed to the door then remembered something Betty had said earlier. “Did you know my sister?”
Betty chewed on her lower lip and nodded. “I can’t believe somebody would kill her. She seemed to fit right in with people around here. I’d heard one of the producers was ready to try her in a film.”
“Really?”
“That’s what I heard.”
“She would have been thrilled to know she was close. All Rosemary wanted to do was be in pictures. It’s what she dreamed about since her first trip to a theatre.” A splinter of sadness punctured Audra at how close Rosie had been to her dream.
“The picture was slated for production immediately after the caravan. I’ve heard the studio’s already contracted another actress.”
“Who?”
“Lana Garfield.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
__________
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 occasional attorney rushed in, briefcase clutched in hand, no doubt on a mission to save a client.
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.
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.
“That’s what they all say. You might try a creative angle.”
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 put off. Explain her decision 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. In an empty apartment with no food. “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 back. “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 per
ched 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 the 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. 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.”
Stars in the Night Page 11
