Grace in Hollywood: A Grace Michelle Mystery

by Kari Bovee

  “You said they were sent to help,” Rose said through clenched teeth. “But they have completely upended my kitchen. Look at this mess! I told you I could handle this party.”

  “I’m sorry, Rose. As I told you before, this is Mr. Travis’s party and he’d already hired caterers. Why don’t you go to your rooms and relax? Read a book or something.”

  “While these two tear apart my kitchen?” She raised her voice, and the two men looked over at us.

  I gave them a sheepish smile. “I’m sure they will put everything back in order.” I tried to inflect a soothing quality into my voice, but the look on her face told me I hadn’t succeeded.

  “And I think all the kids have sampled the punch, which I know contains alcohol. Lizzy is making a fool of herself and drinking champagne. Where is that teacher of theirs?”

  “Miss Meyers is taking care of Susie. I will see to the others,” I promised. “If you don’t want to go relax on your own, why don’t you grab a plate and go join Miss Meyers and Susie?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “But what about the kitchen?”

  I sighed at the reality that I’d stepped into it again with Rose. For the most part, we got along as long as I let her “do her job,” which normally wasn’t a problem. And I was deeply grateful for her, as I had no idea how to cook anything aside from scrambled eggs and toast.

  “I’m sorry,” I relented. “But this is Mr. Travis’s party, Rose, and he’s paying us to have it here. I won’t interfere with his staff. Look, the guests are having a marvelous time! You should join us.” I tried a different tack but knew she’d never take me up on the suggestion.

  She harumphed and marched out of the kitchen through the swinging door.

  I sighed and set out to find Lizzy, Daniel, and Ida.

  I found Ida and Ned in the family room. Ned was talking with Doug Fairbanks and Charlie Chaplin with Ida looking on. Not wanting to interrupt the conversation, I crooked my finger at Ida, summoning her to me.

  “Time to go up to bed,” I said.

  “Aww!” She stuck out her bottom lip. “I was having so much fun.”

  “I know, but it’s getting late. Have you seen Lizzy or Daniel?”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t seen Daniel, but Lizzy went out to the barn with some guy.”

  My heart leaped into my throat. “Oh dear. You go on up to bed now. I’ll go find her.”

  I passed through the living room and noticed the crowd had grown thinner. People must have started to leave, which was a bit of a relief. I opened the double doors and went out onto the back porch. Only a handful of guests were out there now.

  I stepped off the porch and made my way through the backyard to the gate that opened up to the pathway by the barn. The night was cool and damp, and I shivered as I hurried down the path, the beaded, fringed hem of my dress tickling my knees. A chill went through me. In the distance, from the stall windows that opened to the horses’ runs, I could see the glow of lantern light.

  A noise startled me. It was coming from the outskirts of the field that backed up to the barn. It sounded like an animal of some sort crashing around, and then I heard retching. Thinking it might be Lizzy, I followed the sound. As I got closer, the figure stood up. The person was too tall to be Lizzy and looked to be male.

  “Hello?” I didn’t want to get too close until I could discern who it was.

  The head rose, and the flash of something metal caught in the moonlight. I stepped a little closer. It was Robert Smith drinking from a flask.

  “Oh, Mr. Smith. Are you all right?”

  He swayed and then stumbled. Regaining his balance, he pressed his fingers against his forehead. His breathing was raspy and came sharp and shallow, and his shoulders shook. From the strangled noise coming from his throat, I could tell he was crying. I stood there for a few more moments, hoping he might say something to me, but when he didn’t, I thought it best to leave the poor man alone. I continued on my way toward the barn.

  The large barn doors, usually closed at night to prevent any kind of wildlife getting in and wreaking havoc, had been pulled open just wide enough for a person to fit through. I walked inside. Two lanterns hanging from nails next to the stall doors suffused the place with an eerie glow. Several of the horses were pacing in their stalls, agitated at something.

  “Hello?” I called out. “Lizzy? Are you here?”

  One of the horses whinnied, and several of them snorted.

  I walked down the aisle, looking in each stall. The new horse, the bay with a broad wide blaze down his face, stared at me with wide, unblinking eyes, then resumed pacing so frantically I was worried for his safety. He was lathered in sweat, obviously terribly upset by something. Perhaps a racoon or coyote had found its way in through the open door.

  My eye caught a flicker of light on the floor at the end of the barn—something shimmering near the area where we stored hay. As I got closer, an object started to take form. A ladies silver shoe.

  I lifted one of the lanterns off its nail and walked toward the hay room. I held up the light and gasped to see Lizzy and a man lying prone in the hay. The man was facedown, the hay around him drenched in blood. Lizzy, unconscious, lay on her back, a hand over her stomach, her other arm akimbo—and both hands covered in blood.

  “Lizzy!” I set the lantern down and rushed over to her. “Lizzy!” I pressed the back of my hand to her cheek. Her skin was warm to the touch. She moaned slightly. She was alive, thank God. I tried to pull her to a sitting position, but she was dead weight. I grabbed the lantern and held it over the man. I couldn’t make out who it was by his clothing or his hair. Lizzy moaned again.

  “Grace?” A voice called from the aisle of the barn. “Grace, are you in here?” It was Ned.

  “Over here. Hurry!”

  I tapped Lizzy’s cheeks, trying to rouse her. My heart was pounding in my chest, my stomach ready to heave at the smell of blood. “Oh no! Please. Come on, Lizzy!”

  Ned appeared, standing over us. “What’s happened? What’s wrong with her? Dear god, look at all this blood!”

  “Lizzy, wake up,” I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. Her eyes fluttered, and then she started to gag. Sensing what was about to happen, I turned her on her side. She vomited all over the hay, coughing and sputtering.

  I looked up at Ned. “We have to get her into the house.”

  “But who . . . ?” He bent down, and taking the arm of the man’s jacket, Ned turned him over.

  My throat went dry, and I gasped. It was Edward Travis, his eyes wide and staring. A gaping wound at his neck oozed blood onto his shirt collar, and my stomach caved in on itself at the sight.

  Ned pressed his fingers to the man’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. He gaze slid over to mine. “He’s dead. Looks like he was stabbed in the neck.”

  Lizzy sat up and inspected her hands. She glanced over at the body and then back at me. A sound, like something inhuman, something animal, came out of her mouth, a scream so guttural it sent a shiver down my spine.

  I held my arms out to her, and she flung herself at me, sobs racking her body so violently she couldn’t hold up her own weight. She sagged in my arms. The blood on her hands had an acrid, metallic smell and was now streaked across my dress. I held her for several minutes while she wailed into my shoulder.

  I met Ned’s gaze. “We have to get her into the house, and we have to call the police,” I said. I thought about having just seen Robert Smith out near the field. Had he done this? He didn’t seem capable of such a thing, even if the men didn’t like each other.

  Ned gently placed his hands on Lizzy’s shoulders and pulled her away from me. She crumpled into his arms.

  “I don’t want the guests to see us bringing her in the house like this,” I said. “We’ll go through my studio. Then we can get her into her room.” On the upper floor of the west side of the house, my studio had a private entrance via a wooden staircase. “Lizzy,” I said. “Do you think you can stand up? We need to
get you into the house.”

  Still weeping, she gave a faint nod. Together, we lifted her to her feet, but she was like a rag doll. Ned took the initiative and swept her into his arms. We hurriedly ran out of the barn and around the bunkhouse, skirting the backyard. Finally, we reached the staircase to my studio. I led the way up the stairs to open the door for Ned.

  Once in my studio, I flipped on the lights. Dress forms draped with beautiful fabrics stood sentinel as we walked past. Lizzy’s foot caught one of them, and it crashed to the floor. I wasn’t worried about that now, though. She could knock them all over, and I wouldn’t care. We hurried through the room, and I opened the door to the hallway. Lizzy’s bedroom was on the opposite end of the hall. I scurried toward it to open Lizzy’s door, Ned on my heels, his breathing labored with the effort of carrying Lizzy’s inert body.

  Once in her room, Ned deposited her onto the bed. She immediately curled into a ball and continued to sob.

  “What’s going on?”

  I looked in the direction of the voice to find Ida was standing in the doorway. In my haste, I’d forgotten to close Lizzy’s door. I didn’t want Ida to see Lizzy like this.

  “Ned,” I whisper-shouted.

  He finally tore his gaze away from Lizzy, and I jerked my head toward the door. Seeing Ida standing there with her mouth hanging open, he quickly caught my drift.

  “Take her to Miss Meyers’s room please. And find Daniel. Tell them that Lizzy is unwell, and I need to be with her.”

  “What happened?” Ida asked as Ned ushered her out. “Why are her hands bloody?” She sounded terrified. Ned took hold of her hand and closed the door, leaving Lizzy and me alone.

  I heaved a sigh. What in the world had happened out there? My mind swirled with the possibilities. Who had attacked them? Could it have been Robert Smith? He was some distance away from the barn, and he could barely walk. Had Lizzy tried to help Mr. Travis? Is that why her hands were bloody? I sat down next to her on the bed and rubbed her back while she sobbed into the quilt.

  There was a soft knock at the door. It opened a crack, and Felicity peeked her head into the room. She came in, Chet on her heels.

  “Chet! Thank goodness you’re back.” I almost cried with relief. “This is just awful, just awful! Mr. Travis—” I pressed my hand to my mouth, tears stinging the back of my eyes.

  He came over and knelt down next to the bed, and gently took me by the shoulders. “Ned told me what happened. Are you all right?” His voice was calm and steady.

  “Did he take Ida to Miss Meyers? Is she okay?” I asked, worried about her state of mind.

  “Yes, she’s fine. I told Ned to call the police.” He looked over at the state of Lizzy. “Have you been able to determine what happened?”

  I shook my head. No, I mouthed.

  Chet placed a gentle hand on Lizzy’s back. She flinched and grabbed me around the waist, her body trembling.

  I told Chet and Felicity what I had found in the barn. Chet let out a breath through pursed lips, shaking his head. Lizzy’s sobbing stopped and was followed by deep, gulping breaths. She slowly released her grip on me.

  “It’s okay, Lizzy. Can you sit up? We’d like to talk with you,” Chet said.

  She pulled away from me and raised her eyes to mine. The look of anguish and terror in them nearly broke my heart. “You’re okay, Lizzy,” I said, trying to calm her. “I’m here. Chet’s here.”

  She rose and sat cross-legged, her bloody hands listless in her lap, blood smeared all over her dress. She started sobbing again.

  “Lizzy,” Chet said, “can you tell us what happened?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s important that we know,” he continued, “so we can help you.”

  She sat there, still unresponsive. Chet and I shared a glance.

  “Lizzy, what happened to Mr. Travis?” he tried again. “Was there someone with you in the barn?”

  “I don’t know,” she squeaked.

  I turned to Chet. “I saw Robert Smith out in the field. He was really drunk—vomiting, crying, just a mess.”

  “Do you know if he’s still here?” he asked.

  I shook my head and then turned my attention to Lizzy. “Was Mr. Smith in the barn?”

  She hiccupped and then tried to calm her breathing. “No. I don’t think so. No, he wasn’t, or oh, I don’t know!”

  Chet met my gaze. “When you found Mr. Travis and Lizzy in the barn, did you happen to see a weapon of any kind?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I didn’t think to look. I was too concerned about Lizzy.”

  “And you didn’t see anyone else out there besides Mr. Smith?”

  “No. Not until Ned was there. He must have followed me out to the barn.”

  Lizzy sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and smearing blood on her face in the process. She crossed her arms protectively over her chest. My eyes traveled to a bruise forming on her upper left arm. She rubbed it, wincing. There surely must have been some kind of scuffle.

  “What happened to your arm?” I asked her.

  “I don’t know,” she said with more force this time. “I— I—” She rubbed her arm again.

  “Did Mr. Travis hurt you?” Chet asked.

  The girl shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  The blood from her hands was getting everywhere. “I need to get her cleaned up,” I said.

  Chet cleared his throat. “I’ll go downstairs and wait for the police. I’m also going to ask the remaining guests to stay. I’m sure the police will want to speak with them.”

  My gaze traveled to the door where Felicity stood silently, her back against it. “Could you get us some water?” I asked her. “And some washcloths?”

  “Of course,” she said and left the room.

  Chet was about to follow her, but hesitated. “If you change her clothes, don’t discard them. The police will need to see them,” he explained. “And did Mr. Travis give you a guest list?”

  “Yes. It’s in our bedroom. I studied it earlier this afternoon.”

  “Good. The police will need that, too.” He walked out of the room just as Felicity was coming back in with a pitcher in one hand, a basin in the other, and a couple of hand towels flung over her arm. Ned had followed her. They both stepped inside, Ned shutting the door behind them.

  “Are you okay, Grace?” he asked.

  Lizzy looked up at him and then at me, and then her gaze dropped to her lap again. The sobs had quieted, and she sat slumped on the bed, her limbs heavy and still.

  “I’m fine, Ned. Just worried about Lizzy. How are the other kids? I never found Daniel.”

  “Daniel’s in his room. The girls are with Rose and Miss Meyers.”

  “Good. How is Ida?” I really wished she hadn’t seen Lizzy like this. It would be traumatizing for anyone but especially Ida. She’d been no stranger to violence. She’d been the victim of her father’s abuse since he’d come home from the war, and her mother had left soon after he’d returned, leaving Ida with no one to protect her.

  He gave me a reassuring nod. “She seems okay. She and Miss Meyers are playing cards. Susie is asleep.”

  I took in a deep breath and released it, glad that the other kids were safe and being looked after. “Thank you, Ned.”

  “Anything else I can do for you?” he asked.

  “No, we just need a little privacy. Chet might need some help downstairs, though.”

  “No problem.” With that, he left the room.

  Felicity brought the pitcher and basin over and set them on the night table next to the bed. “He’s awfully attentive.”

  I gave a tight smile. “He is,” I agreed, not wanting to engage in the obvious. I knew he’d developed a crush on me. It seemed harmless enough, so I chose to ignore it. Ned was a handsome, caring young man. Sooner or later, some young woman would catch his eye and snap him up.

  Felicity poured the water into the basin. We each took a washcloth, dipped it into th
e warm water, and went to work gently washing the blood away from Lizzy’s hands and face. She sat listless, still staring into her lap. Felicity suddenly froze and looked over at me. She raised Lizzy’s hand so that I could see it. There was a gash in her palm about two inches long. The blood had almost coagulated but was still slowly oozing.

  “Can you talk to us, sugar?” Felicity quietly asked Lizzy. Her Southern charm often came through when she was trying to comfort. “What happened to your hand?”

  Lizzy raised her eyes and looked at her. Felicity smiled in her endearing, warm way. It was a smile that could melt even the most hardened of hearts.

  “I hurt it,” Lizzy said, gazing into Felicity’s deep-blue eyes.

  “I can see that. How did you hurt it?”

  Lizzy shook her head, her brow wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t remember. Everything is fuzzy. My head hurts.”

  I imagined the effects of the alcohol had worn off with the shock of all that blood, leaving behind a nasty headache. Felicity looked over at me and shrugged. I could tell she didn’t want to put any more pressure on Lizzy at the moment. The police would ask her plenty of questions soon. For all intents and purposes, Lizzy, being the only one with the body and covered in blood, looked guilty. My stomach clenched at the thought of them shackling this poor girl and hauling her off to jail. I tried to still my shaking hands and put my worry aside, praying it wouldn’t come to that.

  I dipped the cloth into the basin. The water had turned bright red, and suddenly my own head was swimming and my heart racing. The vision of a bloodied hand holding a knife high in the air and then coming down to make contact with flesh pressed in on me. I put my fingers to my temples and remembered the recurring dream that had been invading my nights lately.

  “Grace?” There was alarm in Felicity’s voice, and it snapped me back to the present.

  Both of them were staring at me, and Lizzy’s eyes were tearing up again. I couldn’t let her see my distress. She needed me to be strong, to be there for her, no matter what.