“Do you know when the sheriff is going to allow us to leave?” Her gaze drifted to Gabriel, who was in a corner with Booter hanging on his every word.
I shook my head, but Tinkie answered. “As soon as he finds the real killer.”
“Thanks.” She stepped away, her gaze still on Gabriel.
Apothecary was a word that conjured up dark shops filled with herbs and medicines that might require a special incantation. In other words, creepy. Unless Renata was putting curses on people, why would she need a personal apothecary to follow her around the country delivering things? What things? Eye of newt? Toad tongues?
Graf was the only person who might be able to shed some light on this issue, and I saw that he’d joined Booter and Gabriel in the corner. Booter was talking ninety to nothing and pointing in my direction. I was definitely going to have to have a word with Harold about his guest list. Knowing Booter, though, she probably came without an invitation.
“Graf, I need to speak with you.” I walked up and edged Booter aside. The expression on her face was priceless—outrage and childish temper.
“Excuse me, Sarah Booth. Mr. Milieu and I were having a conversation with Mr. Trovaioli.”
“You’re excused, Booter.” I took Graf’s arm and eased him through the crowd. Behind me I heard Booter’s shrill exclamation.
“Of all the nerve! I can’t wait for the prison door to close on your ass!”
“Betsy Gwen isn’t one of your biggest fans,” Graf said as he hugged me close, “but I think you’re winning Gabriel over. He hired Booter to follow you, but he’s not impressed with her findings.”
“Don’t bother with the Betsy Gwen. Those of us who know her and love her call her Booter. It’s so much more genteel than ass.” I saw the front door open and edged Graf out into the night. “Listen, I need to ask you about Robert Morgan.”
“The pharmacist? What about him?”
“What was his relationship to Renata?”
“He compounded some medicines for her. Thyroid stuff, maybe some hormones.” He shrugged. “They were thick as thieves. Renata had invested in his apothecary shop in New York, and he hand-compounded all of her medications. He was something of a theatre buff.”
I looked him dead in the eye. “Don’t you find that even a little strange?”
He blinked. “Well, no. Should I?”
“That he flew around the country delivering Renata’s medicine? Yes, that’s strange. Why didn’t he mail it?”
“There was a cream or something that had to be refrigerated. He brought it on ice.” He walked to the balustrade and leaned against it. “To be honest, I didn’t pay a lot of attention. I asked Renata about him, and she said he was bringing her medicine and that he was a theatre buff. After that”—he held up both hands—“I just ignored him.”
Graf, as usual, was carefully focused only on himself. “The man flew halfway across the country on a regular basis to deliver something that could have been shipped? You didn’t even give it a second thought?”
“When you say it like that ...”
Behind us the soundtrack of the movie echoed sharp and clear on the crisp night air. Natalie Wood was flirting with Robert Redford in that age-old dance of the sexes. It was actually one of my favorite movies.
“What was going on with Renata and Morgan?” Graf asked, pulling me out of my reverie.
“I don’t know for sure, but it’s mighty damn suspicious that Renata was meeting regularly with a man who compounded drugs and threatened to poison Kristine’s dog.” I faced Graf. “And he’s the same man who sold me that tube of poisoned lipstick.”
Graf licked his lips. “Well, hell, Sarah Booth. Let’s find him and make him tell us the truth. If he poisoned Renata, we could be on the first flight out to Hollywood tomorrow.”
“Let’s concentrate on finding him. What I think very strange is the fact that when Coleman and his deputies searched Renata’s dressing room and her hotel room, not a single prescription medication was found. Not a tube of cream, not a bottle of pills. Not even an aspirin.”
“So where did all of her medicines go?” Graf asked the question that demanded an answer.
Chapter 17
In the silence that followed Graf’s at-last astute question, I heard the rising murmur of female voices. The sound grew to a noise resembling a buzz saw. Something interesting was happening in the parlor, and I had a gut feeling that I needed to witness whatever was coming down—maybe a duel between Harold and Coleman.
“Can you call someone in New York to go through Renata’s things?” I asked Graf. “We need a prescription from Morgan’s pharmacy to connect the two of them. We need physical evidence.”
“I’ll do it now.” He put action to words, pulling his cell phone from his pocket, and I stepped inside to see what all the commotion was about. Gabriel Trovaioli, with Booter at his side, had Kristine cornered, and he wasn’t happy. Cece, who was undoubtedly Gabriel’s date, leaned against the bar, watching with the interest of a newshound.
“You made my sister’s last months miserable.” Gabriel used his six-foot-three-inch-gym-sculpted body to great advantage to hem Kristine in the corner.
“Yeah!” Booter echoed.
“Your sister was a heartless bitch.” Kristine wasn’t the least perturbed. She lifted her chin and her dark auburn hair shimmered. “The only thing I ever asked for was an apology and for your sister to pay the vet bills. That isn’t unreasonable, and she could well afford it. Had she just said she was sorry, I would’ve let it go.” Kristine stepped so that her nose was almost touching Gabriel’s chest. “All I wanted was for her to acknowledge that she’d hurt Giblet.”
Gabriel’s face dropped into lines of sadness. “You’re right.”
“She is?” Booter looked like she’d been slapped.
“She is. Renata could be a cruel and heartless bitch. I never understood her lack of compassion for animals. It was her worst character flaw.”
Like everyone else in the room, I was stunned. It crossed my mind that Gabriel and Renata could not possibly share the same DNA. He was a compassionate, reasonable man.
“Giblet suffered because of Renata, and I tried to make her suffer in return. I never believed she’d die, though.” Kristine took a breath. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Trovaioli.”
“It takes a woman with a big heart to say that.” Gabriel stared into Kristine’s eyes. “I’m so sorry for the pain you and your dog endured. I’d like to make it up to you.”
Acting as if he hadn’t heard the collective gasp in the room, he knelt down and stroked Giblet’s silky ears. “I’m sorry for the suffering, Giblet.” When he stood up, he looked directly into Kristine’s eyes. “I think my sister was afraid to show tenderness. Renata couldn’t risk caring for another living creature. She made herself hard so she couldn’t be hurt again. In doing that, she suffered more than she ever imagined. And she made everyone whose life she touched suffer right along with her. Especially me.”
“You said you were going to give her what for!” Booter tried to step between Kristine and Gabriel. “You said you were going to make all of them pay, especially Sarah Booth. You said—”
“Forget what I said, Booter. I’ve been a fool. A complete fool motivated by spleen and jealousy. No one in this room hurt Renata. She hurt herself.”
“Well, I never!” Booter huffed away.
Everyone in the room stood completely still. Even the popcorn machine had stopped. There was only the sound of the movie, the heartbreak of Natalie Wood as she realizes that no matter how hard she tries, she can’t leave behind the person she believes herself to be.
Taking Cece’s elbow, I maneuvered her into a dark hallway. Harold’s house was old, with magnificent hardwood floors, real paneling, crown molding, and ornamental designs that came off as cheap in newer homes. The past had a death grip on my ankle, even here in Harold’s house. The hallway was dark, and for a split second I closed my eyes.
“Sarah Booth.�
� She touched my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I am.” I took a deep breath. “The play is over, and soon Coleman will have to let the theatrical company return to New York. I’ll be the only suspect in town.”
“What can I do?”
“Did Gabriel give anything away?”
She considered her answer carefully. “Nothing solid. Since I’ve talked to him, he doubts you did it, but he wants someone to blame. I told him that it appeared to us that Renata had deliberately set you up as the killer, and he admitted she had a vengeful streak. But he said she was a fighter. She’d never deliberately let herself be hurt by anyone. That was the only thing he was positive about—she would never play the victim. Whoever did it—she wouldn’t cooperate with her or him.”
“We have to find the killer, and I believe Renata’s past is the key. Someone she knew, something she did—that’s going to lead us to the killer.”
“Gabriel wasn’t much help there. In many ways, he never knew Renata as the big Broadway star. His memories are of a young girl struggling to keep them alive, and some of the things she had to do were unpleasant.”
“I can see that.”
Cece finished her glass of champagne. “Before this past year, what Gabriel knew of his sister, he disliked. I think it was guilt that made him come all this way to point the finger of blame at you. He didn’t love her, and now he feels badly because guilt has convinced him that he should have been a better brother. Someone should have loved her, and he’s that logical candidate.”
Cece was giving me a real education into the twisted emotions of Gabriel and Renata. “That makes sense.” And it did. Guilt and regret are hard companions to travel with. I knew from personal experience.
“Look at that.” Cece nodded at Gabriel and Kristine in the other room. The two were standing close, and Gabriel had picked up Giblet and was stroking the dog’s head. “If I’m not mistaken, I see sparks of romantic interest between those two.”
“Are you okay with that?” Cece had shown a flare of interest in Gabriel when he first blew into town. She wasn’t acting territorial now, though.
“Yeah.” She shrugged a shoulder. “He’s too serious for me. He’s a guy looking for a mission to throw himself into—something bigger than he is. The woman he chooses to love will always come second.”
“How can you say that?” I put my arm around Cece. “You and Tinkie are the optimists of the group. You always believe in love ruling the universe.”
“I do still believe in love, but I also know that my definition of love isn’t everyone’s. I want that passion that comes from intense connection. I think Gabriel wants a lover who’s passionate about the same cause that he’s devoted to—a love born out of mutual commitment to an issue.” She tugged my hair. “Kristine is the walking embodiment of a person committed to a cause. They’re perfect for each other.”
For a moment I watched Kristine and Gabriel. Whoever would have thought a man so immaculately turned out would have a soft spot for dogs. In that split second, I saw the future for the two of them—a king-sized bed filled with Gabriel and Kristine and the stray animals they rescued.
“How did you get to be so smart?” I asked Cece.
“I gave up my masculinity for the wisdom of estrogen.”
My laughter was impossible to contain. Suddenly, I felt much better. “Thanks, I needed that laugh.”
“Anytime, dahling.” She kissed my cheek. “I’m going to slip away. Tell Gabriel that I had a deadline. Ask Kristine if she’ll give him a ride home.”
“Sure.” As I watched Cece do a runway walk to the door, I felt pride in my friend who knew herself well enough to walk away. I delivered the messages to Kristine and Gabriel, both of whom seemed delighted.
An hour and three glasses of champagne later, I found myself standing beside Harold as he proposed a toast to me and the show. In a far corner of the room, Coleman glowered, but he lifted his glass and drank to my success. He’d made no effort to talk to me, yet he hadn’t left. Curiouser and curiouser.
“Sarah Booth, you revealed a dimension of yourself on the stage that we all suspected but never saw.” Harold brushed my hair from my cheek and kissed it softly. “Whatever else happens in your life, you’re going to be legend in Delta drama circles.”
I smiled and fought back the image of me performing The Snake Pit in the prison cafeteria. “Thank you, Harold. And thank all of you who supported me.”
Graf stepped forward. “To Sarah Booth, the next Southern star to shine bright in the Hollywood sky.”
Everyone cheered and swilled the champagne.
Not to be topped, Tinkie held up her glass. Magically, waiters with glasses of champagne and little candy lipsticks appeared among the gathering. “To my friend and partner, innocent of murder but guilty of stealing all of our hearts.” Tears shimmered in her eyes.
I blinked back my own tears, and my gaze was caught by Coleman as he signaled me outside. “Thank you, Tinkie.” I gave her a big hug.
As soon as I could, I excused myself from my friends and slipped to the front porch. The night had grown cold, and I had no jacket, but what I had to say to Coleman wouldn’t take long. He stood in the darkest corner, an outline among the shadows. Perhaps he’d always been that and I’d fleshed him out with my desperation and imagination.
“Time for another interrogation?” I asked. “Or maybe playing nursemaid to your wife has grown tiresome so you came here for a break from the routine.” My imitation of a striking cobra surprised even me. My anger was an indication of how badly he’d hurt me. Like any other animal, I was fighting back.
Coleman closed the distance between us so fast that I almost yelled. His hand caught my arm in a hard grip, and before I could cry out or fight back, his lips covered my mouth, and he kissed me.
At first I struggled, but my anger dissolved. Time and place fell away, and the only things that mattered were Coleman’s lips and arms. This thing that I’d longed for was so much sweeter than I’d ever dared to dream.
His kiss said all of the things that neither of us could express. My response told him my heart and my fears. In my thirty-four years, I’d been kissed thoroughly and with expertise. Never had I been told a story of love by a kiss.
His hands moved over my back, caressing and claiming. I held onto his neck, twining my fingers in his hair, clinging to the strength I felt pulsing through him. An hour or a week could have passed. Nothing mattered except him.
“Tch, tch, tch. Sarah Booth, Coleman, you’re out here like two teenagers.”
Tinkie’s voice cut into my dream and split it wide open. I stepped back from Coleman, my lips and body tingling.
“Half the town is in there.” Tinkie’s voice was thick with worry and anger. “If Booter or someone else had stepped out here and seen this little display, everything we’re doing to help prove Sarah Booth’s innocence would have been for nothing.”
She had a right to be angry, but I wasn’t about to apologize. Coleman took a deep breath. “You’re absolutely right, Tinkie. I lost my head.”
“You’re going to lose your girl if you keep acting like a lovesick teenager.” She rounded on me. “And you! After all this work to make it clear Coleman isn’t going to be prejudiced in your favor—it’s hard to sell that story if you’re out here necking in the dark at a party.”
“You’re right.” I spoke softly, not daring to look at Coleman because I knew with one hint of encouragement, I’d be right back in his arms.
“Now, Coleman, you go home. Sarah Booth, get your ass back in there and entertain your guests.” Tinkie put her hands on her hips. “Now!”
We scattered like a covey of flushed quail. When I got to the door, I met Booter’s sneer. “What’s going on out here? Did the sheriff finally decide to get you off the streets for the safety of the town?”
I was just about to stomp her ass when I felt Tinkie’s restraining hand on my arm. “Booter, dear, I saw there are only two canapés left. You bette
r grab them so you don’t have to leave empty-handed.” She maneuvered me so that we both brushed past Booter.
“That was too close for comfort, Sarah Booth.” Her fingers gripped my arm. Tinkie was petite, but she was no pushover. “Have you lost your mind? You and Coleman both!”
Apologizing would do no good. “I didn’t intend for that to happen. I went out there to cuss him out.”
She nodded and turned to face me. “I believe that.”
Something else was bothering her. Tinkie’s brows were drawn together in a frown.
“What is it?”
“Gordon ran a background check on Gabriel Trovaioli.”
Scanning the room, I saw that both he and Kristine were gone. I had a bad feeling. “He’s a successful California architect and ...”
“He did some time in jail for drugs.”
I tried to let the information settle before I jumped to a conclusion. My mind was playing connect-the-dots so fast I felt dizzy for a moment. Graf had been bringing drugs into the United States, according to his story, for an unnamed source, allegedly a New York loan shark ring. And Renata was willing to pay an exorbitant bribe to spirit him back to America without a criminal record dragging behind him. Was it possible that Renata and her brother were drug smugglers? Had a drug deal gone bad ended in her murder?
My face must have reflected all of my thoughts because Tinkie nodded. “How do we know Gabriel arrived in town after Renata was dead?”
I gazed around the room, searching again for the handsome architect and Kristine Rolofson. They were gone. “We don’t know that,” I said, “and Kristine and Giblet may be in great danger.”
Tinkie’s thought was to tell Coleman on the spot, but when we looked for him, he’d fled the scene of the crime. “Let’s just go check it out,” I said. “We can do it without arousing Gabriel’s suspicions.”
She was still reluctant, but we got our coats and slipped away from the party. It wasn’t until I settled into the leather seat of Tinkie’s Cadillac that I realized how tense my body was. So much had happened in such a little time, my response had been to tighten every muscle, and now I couldn’t make them relax.
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