by Gibson, Jo
Don’s patio reminded Judy of the pictures she’d seen of lakeside cabins in the Midwest. There were oilcloth covered tables with molded plastic chairs. Each table had a tupperware container of peppers that were so hot, it was a miracle they didn’t melt the plastic. Don’s wasn’t fancy and it didn’t have any pretensions, unlike most of the other hamburger places in the Burbank area. There was no menu, unless you counted the hand-painted sign that was tacked up on the wall advertising the three entrees produced by Don’s kitchen.
Don’s served burgers, B.L.T.s, and grilled cheese sandwiches, accompanied by either French fries or onion rings. The food was delivered in red plastic baskets lined with wax paper. It was all finger food and that meant no silverware was needed. There were no appetizers or desserts or fancy salads. Don’s wasn’t that kind of place. But once you bit into a crunchy onion ring or tasted a perfectly grilled burger dripping with mayo, catsup and mustard, you were addicted.
Michael had discovered that the studio people ate at Don’s, and he called it the great equalizer. Executives shared picnic tables with grips, and it was the perfect place for would-be talent to rub shoulders with studio heads. Michael had taken Judy there almost every week last summer, and they’d munched double cheeseburgers with plenty of luminaries in the biz. Everyone who ate at Don’s had the same problem. The burgers were so juicy and so thick, they were impossible to eat neatly. Judy had passed handfuls of paper napkins to producers and electricians alike, and she’d seen several big-name stars drip pickle juice on their clothes. She’d been looking forward to going to Don’s this summer, but Michael had been much too busy to take her there. Judy just hoped he wasn’t taking Ingrid to what she thought of as their special place.
Don’s was just up the block, and Judy pulled over to the side of the street. Her eyes scanned the cars in the parking lot and she breathed a sigh of relief. Michael’s car wasn’t there. But just as she was about to leave, she saw a familiar car approaching. It was Michael’s old white Lincoln, and he was pulling into the driveway.
As the car pulled in, Judy saw that Ingrid was with him. She was sitting so close, there was room for another two people in the front seat. Her blonde head was nestled against Michael’s chest and his arm was around her shoulders.
Michael parked the Lincoln and opened his door. He got out first, and then he helped Ingrid out of the car. They were laughing as they walked toward the patio, and Judy wished that she could join them.
But her better sense prevailed, and Judy pulled out into traffic again. While Michael might be glad to see her, Ingrid surely wouldn’t. Judy couldn’t really blame her. She knew that if their positions were reversed, she wouldn’t be happy about sharing Michael with another girl. Suddenly, a funny picture popped into her mind, and Judy laughed out loud. She hoped that Ingrid would try a jalepeño pepper and turn as red as a tomato. But that was just wishful thinking. Ingrid would never eat anything that had been sitting on the table for hours in a tupperware container. And she probably wouldn’t drip catsup and pickle juice on her clothes, either.
Judy knocked on the dressing room door. “Twenty minutes, Linda. You’re doing the opening act, tonight.”
“I know,” Linda answered, sounding very upset. “Can you come in for a minute?”
Judy opened the door and stepped in. But she frowned when she saw Linda’s pale face. There were dark smudges under her eyes that her makeup couldn’t hide, and her hands were shaking as she brushed her hair. “What’s the matter, Linda? Are you sick?”
“No. I’m just scared.”
Judy nodded. Linda always had the jitters when she sang a new song. “Don’t worry, Linda. That new song of yours is fantastic. They’re going to love it.”
“That’s not it. I know the new song is good, but I’m scared to death to go on stage. What if he’s out there?”
“Who? He who?” Judy grinned. “And I’m not trying to yodel.”
Linda didn’t smile back. “You know who. The killer.”
“But they’re staking out this place. Andy says they have at least three undercover cops in the audience every night.”
“I know.” Linda still looked worried. “But how about when I’m not performing? He could kill me right here in the dressing room.”
“Listen to me, Linda. You’ve got round-the-clock protection. Andy told you that. Nothing’s going to happen to you. I know it isn’t.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to get out on that stage every night. He’s stalking me, Judy—I can feel it! He’s just waiting for my round-the-clock cop to look the other way, and then he’s going to kill me just like he killed Deana, and Becky, and Mary Beth!”
“Relax, Linda.” Judy patted her hand. But Linda was so upset, she started sobbing. There was no way she could go on in this condition, and that meant Judy had to calm her down in a big hurry. “You know that victim profile that Detective Davis and Andy are always talking about? You don’t fit.”
“What the hell do you mean? I’m female and I perform at Covers. I fit that victim profile perfectly!”
Judy raised her eyebrows. Linda really was upset. Judy had never heard her swear before. “But you don’t. You haven’t dated Michael. Only the girls who dated Michael have been killed.”
“But I did go out with Michael.” Linda frowned deeply. “I just haven’t told anybody about it!”
“You tried to win the contest?”
Judy was so shocked, she stepped back a pace. But Linda shook her head.
“That was before anybody ever mentioned that stupid contest. Michael took me to the movies three months ago. Remember when everybody was talking about Robert DeNiro’s new picture? Well, Michael’s girlfriend couldn’t go, so he asked me if I wanted to see it.”
Judy nodded. “So Michael took you to the movies?”
“Well . . . not exactly. He met me there. And I already had my own ticket. We sat together, though. And he did buy me popcorn.”
“That’s not exactly a date.” Judy smiled at her friend. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“But the killer might think it was a date, even if it wasn’t. And he might kill me!”
Judy’s smile turned to a frown. Linda’s terror was real. She had to think of some way to reassure her, or they wouldn’t have a first act tonight.
“Look, Linda. There’s something else you’re forgetting. Deana, and Becky, and Mary Beth were all killed when they were alone. Just pretend you’re my Siamese twin tonight. Stick close to me, and you’ll be safe. Make sure you’re never alone, not even for a second. Can you do that?”
Linda nodded. “Sure, if you don’t mind. But I hate to bother you every time I have to go to the ladies’ room.”
“No problem.” Judy smiled at her friend. “We’ll stop by the office and ask Carla to help us. If I’m busy, she can keep you company.”
Linda looked relieved. “I really appreciate this, Judy. You’re a good friend. Now tell me the truth. Which outfit do you think I should wear for the first set?”
“Wear this.” Judy chose a soft pink dress and tossed it to Linda. “I’ll light you with a rose filter and that’ll bring a little color back to your face. And hurry up, Linda. We start in ten minutes.”
Judy dimmed the spot at the end of Linda’s first number, but she didn’t go to black as she usually did. Linda was still too nervous to handle a totally dark stage.
“Ready?” She turned to Michael who was waiting behind the screen. Linda was doing a duet with him for the second number.
Michael frowned. “I’m ready. But aren’t you going to black like we did in rehearsal?”
“Not tonight.” Judy didn’t bother to explain. It would only embarrass Linda.
Michael nodded, and then he walked out to join Linda on stage. Judy brought the lights back up again, and they started to sing their duet. It was then that Judy realized she wasn’t alone behind the screen. Ingrid was standing there watching.
Ingrid’s eyes
were shining as she gazed at Michael. She seemed totally oblivious to everything but him. Her hands were clasped tightly together and there was an expression of utter adoration on her face.
“Aren’t you supposed to be waiting tables?” Judy frowned deeply.
“I’m on break. Don’t worry, Judy. I’ll stand right here in one place and I won’t get in your way.”
Judy nodded, and turned her back as she flicked another switch on the light box. She didn’t feel very friendly toward Ingrid right now. Michael had taken her to Don’s.
“Judy?” Ingrid touched her on the arm. “Isn’t he the most handsome man you’ve ever seen?”
Judy couldn’t bite back her sharp retort. “What do you care? You’re just going out with him to win the contest.”
“No, I’m not!” Ingrid looked crushed. “It started out that way. I won’t deny it. But . . . something happened, Judy. I think I’m in love with Michael.”
“But is Michael in love with you?” Judy’s voice was hard. Ingrid was a fool if she thought that a couple of dates meant that Michael loved her.
A smile spread across Ingrid’s pretty face. “I think he loves me, Judy. I’m almost sure of it. And I think he’s going to tell me he loves me on Sunday night.”
“What makes you think that?” Judy’s heart was beating so hard, it was difficult to speak.
“He said he had a surprise for me. And he promised to give it to me on Sunday night. And he asked my mother if she knew my ring size.”
Judy swallowed hard. Had things really gotten that serious between Michael and Ingrid this fast? “So you’re expecting an engagement ring?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that. But maybe . . .” Ingrid’s cheeks turned so pink that Judy could see her blush in the dim light seeping back from the stage.
“Maybe what?”
“I thought that maybe he might be having his fraternity ring made smaller for me.” Ingrid sighed deeply. “At least, that’s what I hope.”
Judy nodded. She didn’t trust herself to comment. If Michael was giving Ingrid his frat ring, he was making a terrible mistake.
“He told me he was crazy about me. And he really likes my family. You don’t think it’s wrong for me to get my hopes up, do you, Judy?”
Judy sighed. “I don’t know, Ingrid. Michael doesn’t confide in me anymore. Maybe you’re right . . . and maybe you’re not. Is he taking you somewhere romantic on Sunday night?”
“He said he made ten o’clock reservations at Monty’s Steakhouse.”
Judy frowned slightly. Monty’s Steakhouse was at the top of a high-rise building in Westwood, and it definitely had a romantic view. It was also terribly expensive. If Michael was taking Ingrid there for dinner, it must be a very special occasion. “Ten o’clock’s pretty late for dinner. Why aren’t you going earlier?”
“I’m working at the church carnival until eight. Michael’s picking me up there. We’re dropping by his frat house so he can introduce me to some of his college friends, and then we’re going to Monty’s.”
Judy tried to keep the expression of dismay off her face. Michael had never introduced her to any of his frat brothers. And he’d certainly never taken her to Monty’s! “Are you all going in a group?”
“No.” Ingrid shook her head. “He said it would be just the two of us. Vera says she thinks he’s going to propose, and I’m so excited, I can hardly stand it!”
Judy raised her eyebrows. “You told Vera about it?”
“Well . . . yes. But she promised not to tell anyone else. I just had to tell someone!”
Judy nodded. “Did you tell anyone else?”
“I mentioned it to Andy. He thinks Michael’s going to give me a friendship ring. But Berto’s sure it’s going to be his frat ring.”
“So the only ones you didn’t tell are Carla, Mr. Calloway, and Linda?” Judy’s frown deepened.
“I told Linda. She said she really didn’t know Michael well enough to even guess. And I mentioned it to Carla, but she didn’t have an opinion, either. Of course, that’s not surprising. Carla doesn’t know very much about men.”
“You told everyone?” Judy could hardly believe that Ingrid had asked everyone what they thought Michael’s intentions were.
“No. I didn’t tell Mr. Calloway. They’re very close, and I thought he might mention it to Michael. And I wouldn’t want Michael to think I had a big mouth.”
“Of course not.” If Judy hadn’t been so upset, she might have laughed out loud. She was about to tell Ingrid that she really ought to learn to keep a secret, when the audience burst into applause. The duet was over. Judy clamped her mouth shut, and turned back to the light box to dim the lights.
“I’ve got to get back to work.” As Ingrid moved past, she reached out to touch Judy’s arm. “I’ll call and tell you what happened first thing Monday morning. Isn’t it fantastic, Judy? I’m so excited, I could just die!”
“Fantastic.” Judy tried to smile as Ingrid gave a little wave and went back out on the floor. Was Michael really going to propose to Ingrid? The girl who couldn’t keep her mouth shut, and blabbed her hopes and dreams all over Covers? It seemed impossible, but Judy knew that Michael had always beena sucker for a pretty face. And Ingrid was certainly pretty.
The applause died down, and Judy brought up the spot again. Linda and Michael were doing another song together, something Michael had written two nights ago. They’d rehearsed it only once, and Judy had been so busy writing down lighting cues, she hadn’t paid any attention to the song.
Then Michael started to sing, and Judy drew in her breath sharply. The song was about a girl with hair the color of sunshine. A sweet and gentle girl he loved. Linda’s voice answered Michael’s on the chorus, proclaiming the girl’s love for him and promising how she’d always hold him close in her heart.
Judy turned to look at Ingrid. She stood transfixed, a tray of food in her hands, gazing up at Michael with a look of loving devotion. It was enough to make Judy weep.
It seemed to take forever, but at last the song was over. Judy’s hand was shaking as she dimmed the lights and the audience burst into wild applause. The audience always loved sappy love songs, and this was the sappiest love song that Judy had ever heard.
But it wouldn’t be sappy if Michael had written it for me, Judy’s conscience reminded her. Then it would be beautiful.
Judy felt her eyes sting, and she blinked back bitter tears. The way things were going, Michael would never write a love song for her. And she wanted him to, desperately. When she went to bed every night, she gazed out at his window and prayed he’d notice her. She knew she could make Michael happy, if he’d only give her a chance.
She waited until the applause had died down, and then she brought up the lights again. Linda had one more number, a country western song she’d written about a girl who mourned for her lost lover. The melancholy refrain threatened to bring more tears to Judy’s eyes, and she busied herself at the light board, playing with the spot until she had just the right amount of color in Linda’s face. When she turned around, Michael was standing behind her, grinning.
“I guess they liked our last number.” Michael looked pleased. “Linda’s good, isn’t she?”
Judy nodded. “She’s very good. And you made her sound even better.”
“Thanks, Jude.” Michael reached out to give her a hug. “Are you still president of my nonexistent fan club?”
“Always. And it won’t be nonexistent for long.”
Michael grinned. “May your words be as true as bread and milk.”
“What?!”
Michael’s grin grew wider. “Search me. I don’t know what it means, either. It’s an old Swedish proverb that Ingrid taught me.”
Judy took a deep breath. The time was right. Michael had mentioned Ingrid and this was the perfect opportunity to tell him that she’d blabbed their plans to everyone at Covers. Would Michael be so upset by Ingrid’s indiscretion, he’d break up with her?
“Mic
hael? Can I talk to you about something very serious?”
“Of course, Jude.”
Michael smiled, and the warmth in his eyes made Judy almost lose the ability to speak.
“It’s . . . uh . . . it’s about Ingrid.”
“I saw her back here when I was singing. She’s an inspiration, Judy. I’ve never met anyone so absolutely good. Do you know that she spends four hours every Saturday morning working as a volunteer with retarded kids?”
“Uh . . . no . . . I didn’t know that.”
“She’s so loving.” The expression in Michael’s eyes was tender. “You wouldn’t believe how patient she is. She’s going to make a fantastic wife and mother one day.”
“Yes. I’m sure she will.” Judy felt suddenly cold, and she gave a small shiver. Michael really was crazy about Ingrid.
“So what is it?”
“What’s what?” Judy was puzzled.
“You said you wanted to talk to me about Ingrid.”
Judy took a deep breath. It was definitely time to change tactics. Michael had been totally taken in by Ingrid, and nothing she could say would change that. There was an old Roman custom of killing the messenger who’d brought bad news, and Judy knew it would be foolish to give Michael any bad news about Ingrid. Michael wouldn’t kill her, but their friendship might die a painful death if she badmouthed the girl he thought he loved.
Michael was looking down at her, and Judy gave him a blinding smile, a smile she hoped looked totally genuine. “Oh, yes. About Ingrid. I was just going to tell you what a wonderful girl I think she is.”
Eleven
It was almost seven o’clock on Sunday night, and Ingrid was so happy she was practically walking on air. She’d spent all afternoon working at the bake sale booth, and they’d sold everything except one loaf of Swedish rye.
