Audra released her breath slowly. The truth in his words hit her. She’d need to be careful, especially after Lana’s murder. The murderer, whoever it was, didn’t feel the need to hide. She soaked in the sky another moment then nodded. “Let’s go.”
Robert leaned in front of her and opened the door.
“There she is. The woman of the hour. So how’d you do it? What a woman, taking out her nemesis. ” Danny Lester stood to his feet and swayed, even though the train didn’t move. How much alcohol had been consumed since the performers had been secluded in the lounge car? The piano remained silent in its corner, but it looked like at least some of the stars had made use of the small bar.
Audra settled into the first vacant booth, ignoring Danny and his words.
Royce looked like he’d tried to drown a lifetime of sorrows as he slumped forward over a table. Constance had snuggled next to him, but he seemed oblivious to her presence. Frank had an eagle eye on the pair, though. Audra could only imagine what he thought of Constance.
Victoria sat on the piano bench, fingers playing with the keys. When she caught Audra’s gaze, she stood and hurried over. “Are you all right? I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through tonight. On the heels of Rosemary. It’s too horrible to consider. And ignore Danny. He’s deep into his bottle.”
A numbness settled over Audra. She didn’t know who to trust. As she sat there, staring at the woman she’d begun to consider a friend, she fell mute.
Trust Me.
The words reverberated through her heart. A lifeline from a caring God. One she needed to connect with at a deep and desperate level. So little of her life made sense. At the moment nothing was turning out as she’d imagined or planned. Instead, her carefully constructed life, filled with intentioned moves and steps, had spiraled out of control.
She didn’t like the feeling. Not one little bit.
Father, You have to show me what to do. Who to confide in. I’m flummoxed and uncertain. So uncertain.
“Audra?” Concern laced Victoria’s words.
As Audra considered the woman, she knew she could rely on her. No matter how crazy and confusing life had gotten, God had planted a friend in her life. Gratefulness welled inside her, spilling out as tears on her cheeks. “It’s been an unimaginable night.”
“I’m so sorry.” Victoria said the words, but they echoed in the shadows filling Robert’s eyes.
Audra sensed he would have spared her finding Lana if he could. “We’ll get through somehow.”
“They don’t think she died of natural causes?”
Audra considered Victoria’s question. Could she state with certainty that Lana was murdered, or had her over-stimulated imagination gotten the best of her? “I really don’t know.”
A delicate shiver vibrated across Victoria’s shoulders. “It terrifies me to think someone on this train killed her. These people are our friends. At least I thought…”
“I guess it shows you never really know someone.” Annabelle leaned into the threesome. “Mind if I join you? This whole situation gives me the willies.” She slid onto the seat next to Robert and leaned against him. “You’ll protect us from whoever did this, won’t you?”
Robert shuffled as far away from her as he could before nodding.
The door to the car opened, and Audra looked up to find a man wearing a suit striding inside. He stopped and observed the assembled group. When all conversation stumbled to a stop, he clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m looking for Miss Schaeffer. A Mr. Garfield as well.”
Audra clenched her fists on top of the table. Could she endure another interrogation? It didn’t really matter, since she had little choice in the matter. Robert placed his hand on top of her fists. She laced her fingers through his and studied their hands. This time she wouldn’t be alone. She settled back, exhaling quickly, and then pulled free. “We’re here.” She looked around the packed car. “Where would you like to talk?”
“Mr. Feldstein suggested the dining car.”
Audra nodded. That made good sense.
The detective eyed the room. “We’ll have a bit of privacy there, so the rest of you stay here until I call you.”
Victoria and Annabelle slid off the benches, making way for Robert and Audra to stand. He placed his hand at the small of her back, a surprisingly comforting gesture. The assembled performers parted like the Red Sea as she and Robert walked through the car and onto the deck at the end of the car. The swirl of colors from the sunrise had evaporated, replaced by increasing humidity that signaled they were in the heart of the muggy South. Audra was relieved to cross and enter the dining car, leaving the humidity outside.
“Why don’t y’all have a seat at the table? I’ll interview you separately. But we can address the preliminaries together.” The detective gestured to the nearest table. “This will do. My name is Earl Brown. I’m with the Williamsburg PD. Looks like y’all stumbled into some trouble on your trip.”
“Yes, sir.” How else to answer such an inane comment?
Audra studied Detective Brown as he pulled out a notepad and pen from an inner jacket pocket. Where Detective Franklin had been wiry, giving the impression he could chase down any criminal, Mr. Brown gave the good-ole-boy impression of someone who enjoyed his time at the local diner filling up on pie and coffee. His girth indicated a definite lack of interest in physical activity, and Audra hoped that inactivity did not carry over to his mental acuity.
“I’ll begin with you, Miss Schaeffer. Mr. Garfield, you can wait over there.”
Robert looked at her a moment, as if asking permission to leave her alone with the detective. “Do you want me to get someone?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been through this before and after all, I am an attorney.”
Mr. Brown’s ears perked up at her comment. “Been through this before. What’s that mean?” He shooed Robert away as he stared at her.
“My sister was murdered in Hollywood a couple of weeks ago. And I discovered a body in her apartment when I went there to check on her.” She clasped her hands in her lap and planted her feet on the floor. “It’s been a horrifying period.”
“So I see.” He made a notation on his paper. “Who was the investigating officer?”
“Detective Franklin with the Hollywood Police Department. I think it’s imperative you talk to him.”
“That so? Can I ask why a pretty thing like you would think that?”
“Because I believe these murders are connected.” Audra braced for his disbelief.
He quirked an eyebrow and let his silence talk.
Heat crept up Audra’s cheeks. “Call it instinct, but please talk to him.”
The detective jotted down a few notes but remained silent.
Even though she knew his silence was meant to encourage her to speak, she couldn’t hold her tongue. “I don’t ask you to believe me. But Detective Franklin needs to know about Lana’s murder.” She paused and licked suddenly dry lips. “If I’m right, then my sister’s murderer is on this train.” Should she mention Lana’s last word? If she wasn’t 100 percent sure about it? And if her heart knew Robert couldn’t be the killer?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
__________
Mr. Brown asked quiet questions of Audra. Robert tried to read his body language from across the room. If he were right, the detective was a highly skeptical man. Was it simply because Audra was a woman or due to a cautious nature? Guess he’d find out when his turn came.
Robert studied the floor as he waited.
He knew the people on this train. Some from working together on movies. Others on a purely social level. Still others by reputation. He’d always thought he was a good judge of character. Now he wondered.
Yesterday before they arrived at the theatre, if a detective had asked him, he’d have sworn no one on the train was a murderer. Then Audra’d been stalked, he’d been attacked, and Lana had been murdered.
Someone on this train had killed his ex-wife. Who? An
d did it have anything to do with him? He couldn’t imagine it did. He wasn’t a threat to anyone. Not with a career in need of a rebound. Still, the question remained embedded in his mind.
He guessed, from Audra’s reaction, this incident was tied to her sister’s death. That made little sense. Rosemary had been a sweet kid, but she’d barely blipped on most studios’ watch lists. A contract could have changed that.
Lana had arrived. In fact, if she’d told him the truth, she was ready for some big negotiations with a major studio. Sign a seven-year contract with one of them and her star was as good as embedded in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.
Could this have anything to do with a film she’d worked on or was slated to appear in? His head throbbed at the implications. He must really need sleep if he thought her murder was related to some silly piece of celluloid that didn’t exist yet.
He was right back where he’d started with the firm conviction her murderer couldn’t be anyone on this train. And the equally concrete reality that it was. It wasn’t easy deciding which of his colleagues he didn’t really know. And which one to point the police toward.
* * * * *
“Mr. Brown, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to tell you.” Audra rubbed the base of her neck, noticing the tension flowing from there to the headache pounding her temples. “I only met Lana a week, maybe two, ago.”
The rotund man settled back in his chair, posture closed as he crossed his arms. “Did you have something against the lady?”
Audra bolted upright. “No, sir.”
“Well, if I’m to believe you,” he eyed her warily, “someone else did. And you or someone else is going to have to give me insight into all these hoity-toity types here.”
“I’m not the right person to help you.” She felt weighted to the chair, the sleepless night catching up with her in a rush. “I don’t know these people. Any of them.”
“Really?” The detective smirked behind his hand. “Tell that to Mr. Movie Star over there.”
The man meant Robert. “You’re quite mistaken about him.”
“I doubt that. But regardless of what’s between you two, speculation doesn’t help me find a killer.”
“Robert’s the better person to ask. He’s known these people longer than me.” As far as she was concerned, she couldn’t wait to end this caravan and abandon that scary little city in the desert. Her life had gone horribly wrong from the moment she boarded the plane to find Rosemary. She reined in her thoughts, focusing on the words whispered in her soul that morning. Trust Me.
She glanced at Robert sitting at a booth, alone, across the car, and knew she didn’t really wish she hadn’t journeyed to Hollywood.
“Miss Schaeffer.”
Audra pulled her attention back to Mr. Brown. “Yes?”
“There’s something I still don’t understand. You were surrounded by women. Why not scream for help rather than look for it, leaving Mrs. Garfield alone. To die.”
Audra toyed with the charms on her bracelet. The point of the cross pricked her skin. “I wanted to keep as many of the girls from panicking as possible. And I knew Victoria, Miss Hyde, would act quickly and keep her head. She’s very steady that way.” Audra took a breath and looked into Mr. Brown’s eyes. “I had to make a judgment call. You might have done things differently, but it was all I could think to do in the moment.” A tear slid down her cheek, but she steeled herself from more. She didn’t need this man thinking she was weak with waterworks she could turn on at her whim.
He jotted a couple more notes. “All right. Tell me what you know about the performers.”
Audra spent the next twenty minutes telling the little she knew about each person. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. There was an incident at last night’s performance.”
Mr. Brown leaned forward on the table. “Really? Tell me.”
“Mr. Garfield saw someone following me. Then he was attacked.”
He studied her a moment. “That’s it?”
“Isn’t that enough? Someone attacked Mr. Garfield; he has a bruised eye to show for it. That person said something about me, and now Lana’s dead.”
“I don’t know how that helps.”
Audra sucked in a breath, convinced he thought she was an idiot. “I thought you should know.” “Anything else suspicious or odd?” “No, sir.” She paused as a thought came to her. “I know you plan to talk to Robert, but I think you should talk to Dalia as well.”
“Who?”
“She performs many roles but is primarily the costume organizer and helps with some makeup and hair for the gals. She’s been around awhile and was very upset about Lana’s death.” His eyes hardened, and Audra held up her hands. “I don’t think for a moment that she was involved or killed Lana. She’s a gentle soul. But she can give you insight into everyone on the train.”
“I’ll find out what I can when I talk to her.” The investigator leaned back in the booth and reviewed his notes. “So this Detective Franklin. What do I need to know?”
“He’s the lead detective. Seems to be good at his job.” Though he hadn’t found Rosie’s killer yet. “Please call him.”
“As soon as I’m done with the dozens of interviews.” He tucked his notebook in his inner jacket pocket. “I think you should have crammed a few more people on board.”
The door to the car opened, and Mark stormed inside the dining car. The officer stood to his feet, shoulders back and legs braced.
“How much longer do you plan to keep us trapped on this train?”
“As long as it takes.”
“We’ve already waited over an hour.”
Detective Brown reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a stick of gum. He carefully undid the silver wrapper and then stuck the piece in his mouth and chewed. “Um. That’s good.” He chomped a couple more times. “What was it you huffed in here about?”
“I’ve got restless movie stars. From Hollywood. And we’ve got a show to perform. Tonight. In Norfolk.” Mark accented each staccato sentence with a stab of his finger.
“That’s real nice. But here’s what I’ve got. A body. A trainload of suspects.” He looked around then shrugged. “And last time I looked, I was the only one here to interview everyone. Cool your horses. I’ll get to everyone as fast as I can. Maybe you can rehearse or whatever it is stars do to prepare for their audiences.”
“That won’t work.” Mark sputtered and thrust his shoulders back.
“It will. It’s my body and my investigation.”
* * * * *
The exchange had an unreal quality to it. Robert couldn’t believe Mark was so focused on the performance, though the others would likely give the detective a hard time too. They had to wait cooped up in that lounge car. And hearing Mr. Brown call Lana “his body” made the blood rush to his ears. He felt offended for Lana.
Sure he didn’t love her anymore. But no one deserved to be treated so callously after death.
“Can you hurry things along?” Mark spit the words out.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Detective Brown stood, chomping his gum several moments after Mark stormed from the car. Then he turned toward Robert. “Your turn.”
Robert nodded and tried to keep his expression open and non-threatened. Should be easy since he was an actor. But the environment was one he’d never imagined himself in. “What can I help you with?”
“You were married to Mrs. Garfield, correct?”
“Was. She divorced me about two years ago.”
Detective Brown slipped his notebook back out. “How’d you like that?”
“It wasn’t what I’d planned, if that’s what you’re getting at. I never imagined my marriage wouldn’t be a forever commitment. I learned that it takes two to make that work. When one is convinced it’s over and out the door, you can’t force them back.”
“Get along well?”
“Honestly, no. We avoided each other, or I steered clear of her. We shared an agent, though, a
nd both ended up here.”
“Did you get along during the caravan?”
“So far, but we kept our distance. Nothing unusual.”
“So it didn’t bother you that she was spending so much time with Royce Reynolds?”
Robert startled at the quiet question. How did the investigator know things like that? “Lana and Royce were new, but he’s not the first man she’s been seen with since our divorce.”
“And it never bothered you?” Brown shed his casual air and planted his elbows on the table. “You watched without flinching.”
“Sure.” Robert studied his fingers clasped in front of him. “I won’t lie to you. I didn’t like it at first, but I learned to let go of her a long time ago. She’d chosen someone else. A different lifestyle.”
“Were you in her berth?”
“Not before early this morning after she was already dead.”
“Did you have any fights or flare-ups on this trip?”
“No.”
“Did you kill your ex-wife, Mr. Garfield?”
“No.” Robert fought the urge to stiffen and cross his arms as the questions and accusations punched into him.
“You’re sure there isn’t something you want to tell me? Like the truth?”
“No.” Where was he going?
“Then maybe you can explain how this got in her berth?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
__________
Robert stared at the handkerchief. The square of cotton had his initials embroidered in the corner. He had at least a dozen like it sitting in a dresser drawer in his condo. “I don’t know why she had it, but it could be a relic of our marriage. She was forever borrowing a handkerchief then. Maybe she took a few when she moved.”
Mr. Brown stared through him as if weighing his next words. “The thing is, Mr. Garfield, this was clutched in her hand. When we examined her.”
An uneasy silence settled between them. Robert had nothing to add but refused to look away from the detective. The shifting of another booth brought his head around. Robert’s gaze collided with Audra’s. The hooded look had returned, with questions almost visible on her face. She must have overheard Brown’s question and his “presentation” of the handkerchief.
Stars in the Night Page 20
