I wondered about that flicker of pain. Had Savannah once had her own Hollywood dreams?
“Did you ever want to be an actress?’’ I asked.
“Hell no!’’ She chuckled. “I’d rather die than drag my ass down a red carpet.’’
“What about Tilton? Did he want this movie for the same reason as Jesse? Did he want to stretch as an actor?’’
“No, it’s simpler for him. He needs a hit.’’
“Barbara doesn’t think it will be a hit,’’ I said. “She also said Tilton’s not happy that Toby’s getting more and more screen time.’’
Savannah shrugged, raked her fingers through that glossy hair. “That’s the business, Mace. Movie stars age in dog years. And there’s always another young pup barking at the old dog’s heels.’’
“But Tilton is a legend. He’s saved the world in about a million different ways. The guy is always the hero.’’
Savannah clucked her tongue, just like Mama does. “C’mon, honey, you aren’t that naïve, are you? You do know that real life is nothing like the movies, right?’’
A ring of masked bandits surrounded Kelly Conover and Greg Tilton. The thieves were insistent, demanding the two stars hand over the good stuff.
Tilton tossed an apple slice at one of them.
Kelly squealed. “Ohmigod, how cute is that?’’
“That little guy should go out for the Yankees,’’ Tilton said.
Sitting back on its hind legs, a raccoon had snagged the snack in a front paw, like Cal Ripken Jr. at shortstop. He’d already polished off that slice, and was angling for another one. I’d seen enough.
“Those are wild animals, not pets.’’ I could hear the lecturing tone in my own voice, but I didn’t care. “You two are turning them into beggars.’’
“Oh, but look how sweet they are! See their little black masks?’’ Kelly asked.
“Yeah. They’re wearing them because they’re embarrassed. Raccoons are only a step up from rats. Keep giving them food, and they’ll have all their buddies swarming the place before you can say ‘suckers.’’’
“You’re nothing like a rat, are you, buddy?’’ Tilton threw another piece of apple.
With a threat of rain in the air, I’d been taking a wooded shortcut to check on the horses in the corral. I came upon the two stars and their pack of raccoons in a clearing. Like everyone I ever caught at Himmarshee Park trying to feed the alligators or any other animal, Kelly and Tilton wanted to convince me they weren’t doing any harm.
“It’s just a few pieces of fruit,’’ she said. “No big deal.’’
“It is a big deal,’’ I said. “Wild animals are meant to forage for natural sources of food, not depend on humans for hand-outs. You’re making them dependent, and also taking away their fear of humans. That’s not good for people, or for the animals.’’
“Who made you boss of the forest?’’ Tilton asked, crossing his arms. Kelly giggled.
I was going to scare them with a story about a seventy-four-year-old woman in Lakeland, Fla., who’d been mauled by a gang of wild raccoons. All she’d tried to do was shoo them from begging for food at her front door. I was distracted, though, by a quick flash of pink and a blur of movement through the woods.
Peering into the trees, I saw the tall, good-looking guy who had tried to calm Kelly after Mama and I discovered Norman’s body.
He crouched, and watched us from the shadows. Apparently he didn’t realize his bright pink shirt made him easier to spot than a city slicker at the rodeo. When he saw me staring, he stood up and emerged from the trees into the clearing.
“I heard arguing,’’ he said. “Is everything all right, Kelly?’’
Tilton’s mouth tightened. “Everything’s under control, Sam.’’
“I’m fine, sweetie.’’ Kelly gave him a warm smile. “We’re just getting yelled at about how we’re destroying all of the outdoors by feeding a couple of pieces of fruit to a few raccoons.’’
“Just watch,’’ I said. “This handful here will turn into a crowd by tomorrow. By the next day, it’ll be a mob. You’ll wish you’d never seen their little masked faces.’’
Sam didn’t say anything. His eyes bored into Tilton. The star took an uneasy step away from Kelly, putting some space between them.
Brushing some dirt off a fallen pine tree, Kelly sat. “What are you working on?’’ she asked Sam.
“Not much, yet. Between the weather and … well, what happened … Paul’s only been able to shoot a few scenes. There’ll be some good stuff from that scene Johnny Jaybird shot, though.’’
“How is Johnny?’’ I asked.
All three of them turned to me, blank looks on their faces.
“As a director?” Tilton asked.
“Noooo, as the victim of a gunshot.’’ These Hollywood people were too much. Unless something directly involved them, they weren’t interested.
“Oh, yeah. Of course,’’ Kelly said. “He’s doing well, thank God. They say he’ll only be out a couple of days.’’
“So Jesse was right when she said it was just a flesh wound. He’s lucky,’’ I said.
She shrugged, and tossed one of the raccoons a slice of the orange she was eating. Tilton laughed, and gave her arm a playful jab. “You’d better watch out. Mace is going to take you to the woodshed.’’
I glanced at Sam. Brow furrowed, body tense, he looked like he’d like to launch Tilton to that same woodshed from the end of one of his clenched fists. Kelly’s gaze followed mine.
“Sam, I missed lunch. Would you be a sweetheart and go back to my trailer and make us something? I’ll meet you there in a little while.’’
Sam smiled at her. “You’re hungry?’’
“Starving!’’
“That’s a good sign. I’ll grab some stuff from craft services. How about one of my famous cheese and veggie wraps?’’
“Yum, yum, yum.’’ Kelly licked her lips. Both men stared at her tongue.
As Sam went off down the trail, she called after him. “Don’t forget to use low-fat cheese. And put the sugar-free salad dressing on the veggies, okay?’’
Why bother eating?
Sam signaled with a thumb up. “I know, Kelly. I remember.’’
“He remembers a lot of things,’’ Tilton muttered under his breath. “What’s he even doing here, besides shadowing you? That guy’s totally in love with you, Kelly.’’
Watching Sam disappear into the trees, she shook her golden curls. “I doubt that, Greg. Even if he is, what am I supposed to do about it?’’
“You could try telling him the truth.’’
I was hoping they’d forgotten I was there, and would reveal something interesting. But Kelly whispered, making a joke. “Please, Greg, not in front of the children.’’ Her gesture took in the raccoons and me.
He laughed, and the secret confessions mood was broken. I was still racking my brain for the scoop on these two. Had they ever been a couple? Mama had nothing stored in her vast reservoir of Greg Tilton trivia, which made me think they hadn’t. Or, at least not publicly. I decided to find out if maybe all those People magazines stashed at Hair Today might have missed something.
“How long have you two worked together?’’ Starting innocently, I’d inch my way to more personal questions.
“Don’t Go in the Water.’’ Tilton mimicked a deep-voiced movie announcer.
“Say what?’’
“That was the title of our first film together. What was it, Kelly? Fifteen, sixteen years ago?’’
“Twenty-one.’’
“Man, we’re old!’’
“Speak for yourself,’’ she said. “I’m ten years younger than you.’’
He gave her a long look.
“Well, almost.’’ She smiled slyly. “Anyway, all I remember from that shoot is I nearly froze my ass off, and I screamed a lot.’’
“You were a great screamer. Not bad in a bikini, either.’’ He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Yeah, my character didn’t even have a name. I was Surfer No. 2.’’
As they went deeper into memory mode, I studied their body language, searching for outward signs of their relationship. Were they friends? Foes? Lovers? Tilton had joined Kelly on the fallen log. Their knees weren’t touching, but they were close. The two of them seemed more chummy today than they had the first time I saw them together.
“So, you’ve been friends a long time?’’
“Long enough,’’ Kelly said.
“Long enough to know where each other’s skeletons are buried,’’ Tilton added.
Before I could start to unearth some of those skeletons, Kelly looked at her wristwatch. “Gotta shove off,’’ she said. “I don’t want to keep Sam waiting.’’
“You’ve kept him waiting for years. What’s another few minutes?’’
She punched her co-star in the arm. Judging from his grimace, it wasn’t a playful punch. “You must not have heard me ask you nicely to stop discussing private matters.’’ Her voice was cold; no trace of the famous laugh.
“Don’t mind me.’’ I made the lock sign over my lips. “I’m a vault.’’
“Yeah, we’ve heard that before, haven’t we, Kelly?’’
She ignored him, turned to me. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice woman. But people like us don’t spill our guts to people like you.’’
People like me?
“People like you,’’ I drew out the words, “who don’t know enough to stay away from wild animals, shouldn’t be allowed out into the woods. By the way, those adorable little critters you love so much can also carry rabies. Be careful.’’
“Are you taking notes, Greg?’’ Kelly asked sweetly. “Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if the world’s most famous action hero was done in by a raccoon?’’
I’d almost reached the corral when a snippet of conversation floated toward me through the trees.
“I’m not saying you should be a nun. Just don’t make a fool out of me.’’
The voice was Toby’s, striking a note between defiance and desperation. I ducked behind a myrtle bush, scaring a redbird into flight. Peeking through a branch, I saw the young star, still wearing his cowboy hat from the night before at the Eight Seconds Bar. A waterfall of red hair revealed his partner.
Looking nothing like a nun, Jesse wore a spaghetti-strap T-shirt, braless, and a pair of skinny jeans. A snake tattoo curved up around her belly button above the jeans’ hip-hugger waist. She leaned against the fence of the corral, right next to Toby. They held hands, fingers entwined.
“I’d never make a fool of you, Toby. I made a promise.’’
Whatever her vow had been, Jesse sounded like she sincerely meant to keep it. Then again, she was a professional actress. And I’d seen her performing last night at the bar.
They stood for a few moments without talking. The clouds in the sky were darkening. I noticed a fire ant mound on the ground just a foot or two away from my hiding spot. If these two weren’t going to reveal anything more compelling, staking them out wasn’t worth getting soaked by rain or feasted on by ants.
“Hey,’’ Toby’s face lit up with excitement. “Wouldn’t it be cool to take a couple of these horses out for a ride?’’
Jesse turned to survey the animals inside the corral. She shook her head. “No way. We’ll get into trouble.’’
The surprise I felt showed on Toby’s face, too. “Since when has getting in trouble ever stopped you? C’mon, Jess!’’
When he started to clamber up the fence, I knew I needed to put a stop to his plan. Stepping onto the path, I called out, like I’d just happened upon them. “Can I help you with something, Toby?’’
He quickly jumped off the fence. Sticking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he shot me a guilty look. Now I knew how my sister, the principal, felt when she busted kids for sneaking cigarettes in the bathroom.
“I just wanted to pet some of the horses,’’ he lied.
“That’s fine. But I need to be at the corral if you want to get close to them. I’m responsible for making sure none of the horses—or the humans—get hurt out here.’’
He tugged at Jesse’s hand. ‘’Let’s go inside and check them out. Okay if we do that, Mace?’’
“It’s okay with me.’’ I looked at Jesse. It didn’t seem okay with her. She held on to Toby’s hand, but dug in her high-heeled boots when he tried to lead her to the corral’s gate.
“You know, we should really get going.’’ She shot a nervous glance at the biggest horse, a Percheron that had been cast to pull a plow in a farm scene.
“You can stay on this side of the fence,’’ I said to Jesse. “I’ll lead him over to you, if you want.’’
“Nah, I’m not in the mood.’’ She waved her hand like she couldn’t be bothered with the big draft horse. I’ve been around enough horse-shy people to recognize the signs, though. Jesse was afraid of horses.
“No problem,’’ I said. “Maybe another time.’’
“Whatev.’’ She tugged Toby away from the fence, and then turned to me.
“Besides, I’d rather talk to you than to some stupid horse. I’ve been wanting to ask you something since this morning.’’
“Ask away,’’ I said.
“How did it feel when that light almost killed you?’’ Her eyes gleamed with curiosity.
“Well, I’m not sure I had the time to really ‘feel’ anything at that moment. I can tell you I’m feeling a little stiff right now, from taking that tumble onto the hard ground.’’
“But what were you thinking? Did you think you were about to die?’’
“That’s a weird question.’’
“Well, did you?’’ she insisted. “Did you think about all the things you wouldn’t ever get to do? Did you feel sad? Were you frightened?’’
I glanced at Toby. He shrugged, seemingly embarrassed by her burning intensity.
“How the hell do I know?’’ I snapped at her. “Listen, even on my best days, I’m not big on talking about how things ‘feel.’ Plus, it happened so fast, I didn’t have time to get all emotional.’’
“Oh.’’ Her face fell.
She looked so dejected, I threw her a bone. “I guess if I had to pick a feeling, it’d probably be afterward, when I felt really grateful to be alive.’’
She nodded, as if that satisfied her.
“Why so many questions?’’ I asked, leaving out the adjective “weird.’’
“I’m an actor.’’ She ran a hand through her russet curls. “I use feelings for motivation: How would someone feel in a certain situation; how would they react? What does someone do when they think they might die?’’
“You mean besides trying to avoid dying?’’
She smiled.
“I get it,’’ I said. “I guess.’’
She switched gears. “Good thing about that gorgeous cowboy, huh?’’
“What do you mean?’’
“The one who saved you. He looked like the real deal.’’
She ran a tongue around her lips, a she-wolf drooling over raw meat. Toby dropped her hand.
“What’s the story with him?’’ Jesse asked. “Is he single?’’
I felt my face get hot and a rush of some type of emotion. What was it? Jealousy? Aggravation? Pity for poor Toby, who seemed so taken with this tramp?
“You planning on putting another cowboy’s spurs on your charm bracelet, Jesse? It must be getting pretty crowded after your little exhibition at the bar last night.’’
Toby rubbed at the knee that got bashed in the bar fight. He cast his eyes to the ground; his mouth was grim. He had no trouble getting in touch with his feelings, it seemed. Was that why he was such a good actor? A young DiCaprio, Tilton had said.
I consulted his face, like a road map to his emotional state: disappointment. Jealousy. Embarrassment. Toby would make a terrible poker pla
yer.
After the two of them left, no longer holding hands, I finally got the chance to check on the horses. No problems there, thank goodness. I filled their water trough, and then tossed enough hay for all the horses in the corral.
I was inside the trailer, stowing tack and grooming gear, when I heard a familiar voice. The tone was angry, though I couldn’t make out the words. Even so, I knew it was Mama. I hurried outside, but didn’t see her. Maybe she was around the back of the trailer.
As I followed the sound, her voice went low, dangerous: “I know what you did to my daughter.’’
I hugged the metal of the trailer, inching my way closer. Then I heard Mama utter these words: “Hurt her again, and I’ll kill you.’’
I leapt away from the horse trailer. I looked to the left of Mama. I looked to the right. I looked in front of her and behind her. I was certain of it: There wasn’t another soul around. Apparently, she was leveling threats at a vacant field.
“Mama?’’
She turned, a bright smile on her face. “Hi, honey!’’ She glanced at a sheaf of paper in her hand. “Which way sounds better, Mace? I know what you did to my daughter … or, I know what YOU did to my daughter … Did you notice I added that finger-point there, on the word you? I improvised.’’
I just stared at her. What the hell?
“Honey, I can hardly believe it! Paul’s made my dancehall girl a speaking part. What do you think about that?’’
That was a question that would require some additional thought. In the meantime, I noticed Maddie coming toward the corral, carrying a take-out box with three cold drinks.
“We’re in back of the trailer,” I called.
I waited for my big sister, knowing she’d want to hear all about Mama’s venture into the movie business, too.
“Sweet tea, from Gladys’ restaurant.’’ Maddie held out the container for us to help ourselves. “C’ndee Ciancio might be a catering whiz with tiramisu and pasta fagioli, but the woman cannot make iced tea to save her life. The sugar’s got to go in when the water’s boiling hot.’’
Thanking Maddie, we took our plastic cups.
“Well, I’m glad the tea’s not hot now. I hope it’s not too cold, either,’’ Mama said. “I have to protect my throat. The voice is a tool, you know.’’
Mama Sees Stars: A Mace Bauer Mystery Page 9
