Ham Bones (8 page)

"I'm ready, Graf." I eased from his arms. Tinkie had
tried to convince me not to perform. She said if I didn't
take the stage, there was no motive for me to kill Renata.
Maybe she was right, but I wasn't giving this opportunity
up, not even to prove myself innocent. I knew I hadn't
done anything. Why should I give up the chance of a lifetime?

Graf's fingers laced through mine. "I'm going to help
you prove you're innocent." He brought my hand to his
lips and kissed lightly above my knuckles.

His words were balm on an ego left scorched by Coleman's lack of belief in me. "Thank you, Graf. I don't
know what you can do"

"I have my own suspect" His lips grazed the sensitive
curve of my ear. "Kristine Rolofson. I think she's been
working up to killing Renata for a long time. She realized
the play would close after this week, and she found a way
to kill Renata"

"In revenge over hitting her dog?" I loved Sweetie Pie,
but poisoning a person was a serious crime.

"I think so" He stepped closer so that I could smell his
mysterious aftershave. "Even better, I have evidence."

"Evidence?" This was much better.

"After the police left Renata's dressing room, I found
dog piss on the floor of her closet."

"Wow." I was completely underwhelmed.

"And I have a witness who saw Kristine slip into the
dressing room during the first act" His smile told me he
knew this was much better information.

"You really have a witness?" Oh, let it be true. That
would be something incontrovertible. Coleman couldn't
shrug it off. Someone else was in Renata's dressing room
other than me.

"I do. And I'm going to make sure she goes to the
sheriff's office to make a statement. She's a bit reluctant
right now-doesn't want the focus to shift to her. But I'll
talk to her."

"Thank you, Graf" From that heartfelt moment, it was
easy enough to raise my face for the kiss he offered. It
was so fast, and so natural. Graf believed in me and knew
I'd never hurt another person. When his lips demanded a
deeper kiss, I yielded. I closed my eyes and kissed him
back, shutting out all thoughts of Coleman and the pain
that followed close on the heels of his name.

A throat cleared behind us, and I slowly came to my
senses. Keith wouldn't really care that Graf was kissing
me. The tension would add another level to our performance, and Keith was smart enough to know that.

The clearing noise came again, and I eased out of
Graf's arms to turn and face Coleman. He stood not three
feet away, his face flushed and his eyes cold.

"I came to wish you good luck, Sarah Booth. I missed
your performance last night so I thought I'd catch it
tonight. Somehow, though, this wasn't the show I expected ""

He disappeared into the darkness of the backstage
area.

I'd hurt him, but I didn't feel a bit better. Not about
him or about myself.

"Places everyone!" Keith bustled over to us. "The curtain goes up in fifteen seconds!"

'he applause was deafening. Graf held my hand as we
took our bows. If Coleman was in the audience, I'd
missed him in the few quick glances I was able to take.
Good enough, then. He'd charged me with murder and
then got huffy when he found me kissing a man who believed I was innocent. If he couldn't figure that one out,
he was hopeless.

Instead of hiding in the kitchen, I was at the front of
the line when members of the audience came backstage
to congratulate the cast. The rumors were all over town.
Folks were painting me to be an egomaniacal killer, and I
sure wasn't going to act like I was afraid of the gossip. I
shook hands and smiled, bold as a hungry harlot.

"Why, Sarah Booth, you were marvelous." Betsy Gwen
Collier, better known as Booter, grasped my fingertips in
the sorority girl's handshake. She smiled up at me. "I think
it was well worth killing Renata to get a chance to show
off your talent. I wonder, will they have theatrical performances in prison?"

I leaned down conspiratorially. "You have a booger
hanging from your left nostril." She rubbed furiously at
her nose with the back of her hand as the line forced her
forward.

Harold Erkwell, a former suitor and good friend,
merely kissed my cheek as he passed. His eyes, normally
an ice blue, told me that he was sorry for what I was
going through. The line moved on.

The minutes dragged as I listened to the compliments
and the snide remarks from my fellow townsfolk. At last I
saw a chance to slip away. I made it out the side exit and
into the night. I'd barely had time to think about the cigarettes I'd given up when the door opened.

Graf was silhouetted in the rectangle of light. He saw
me and strode over. "You were even better tonight, Sarah
Booth. Listen, when this show is over, I'm headed to
Hollywood. I have a contract to do a movie with Paramount. It's a marvelous script, and Renata had the female
lead. It's a perfect character for you."

"Hollywood?" The offer was incredible. Actually more
than I could take in. "You want me to go to Hollywood
and be in a movie with you?" I wanted to be sure of what
he was offering.

"Yes. That's exactly what I want. We have something together, something special. As good as it is on stage, imagine what a camera could do-the intensity and close-ups."

"That's a sweet offer---"

"I'm not being sweet" He grasped my hands and held
them against his warm chest. "This is my big chance,
Sarah Booth. Probably the last chance I'll have to move
from the stage to the silver screen. As much as I love
Broadway the money is in movies. We could do this together. They were paying Renata a million dollars. You're
an unknown, but once they see you .. "

I didn't hear any more. A million dollars. For a movie.
Flash images danced through my head-the deed for
Dahlia House in my hand, Dahlia House with a new coat
of paint, a glistening white fence around Reveler's paddock, a new Hermes Steinkraus saddle, money in my billfold.

"Sarah Booth!"

"What?" I returned to the moment with a crash. Graf
had been steadily talking and I'd been in a dream world.

"As soon as the play ends, we need to fly to Hollywood
and arrange a screen test for you"

"You're serious." I was amazed.

"As a heart attack. This could be the biggest thing that's
ever happened to both of us. The chemistry we have together-if it translates to the screen, we could be Tracey
and Hepburn. Imagine, a house on a cliff with the Pacific
pounding below. A warm bed, our bodies together." His
palm cradled my cheek. "I'm in awe of you, Sarah Booth."

"She won't be going anywhere" Coleman stepped out
of the dark. "She's charged with murder, and she can't
leave Sunflower County."

"That sounds exactly like something a redneck sheriff
would say," Graf drawled. "Hell, I could have killed Renata. So could every member of the cast. Or how about
Keith? He hated working with her with a dedicated passion. Ask any member of the crew. He's threatened to kill
her a thousand times. Or what about that makeup girl,
Bobbe Renshaw? Renata cost her a great job in New York
with ABC. Bobbe could have stayed in the city with her
young son and husband. When Renata lied as one of
Bobbe's references and said the girl was a thief, ABC
withdrew the job offer. If anyone had reason to kill Renata, it was Renshaw. And she had access to Renata's
makeup a lot more than Sarah Booth."

In the dim light spilling from the open door, I could
barely see Coleman's expression. What I did see made me
furious. "After all that's happened between us, you seriously think I killed a woman" I stepped up to him and
slapped him hard across the face. "I loved you, Coleman.
The only thing I'm guilty of is being the biggest fool in
the state"

I walked back into The Club, leaving both men in the
night.

Jitty paced the kitchen, the full skirt of a greensprigged dress swinging into the cabinets and chairs. I
was transfixed by the size of her tiny waist, made evident
by a dark green sash. "You really think Coleman will put
you in the slammer?" Jitty asked.

I was worried. Coleman's behavior had cut me to the
bone. As bad as heartbreak might be, the possibility of
going to jail was even worse. I'd eventually recover from
a broken heart-I'd done it before but thirty years in
jail wasn't something that time would mend.

"Sarah Booth, that man has been nothin' but trouble."
She put her hand to her throat where an exquisite cameo
rested in the hollow. "Then again, most men are trouble."

She put her hands on her hips and stood to face me.
"Out of all the men in Sunflower County, why did you
settle on Coleman Peters?"

Now that was a question I'd asked myself a number of
times. In the year I'd been home, I'd had more than one
chance to have a good man, but Coleman had stolen my
interest. Dahlia House and the land had been a stronger
pull than Hamilton Garrett V and Paris. Part of it, though,
had been Coleman. He'd been a married man, and even
though I'd thought we could never be together, I hadn't been able to completely forget him. Now that he was getting divorced, I'd allowed myself the fantasy of seeing a
future together. More fool, me.

"Well, talking to you is like talking to a wall!" Jitty
took a deep breath and her breasts almost spilled from the
low-cut gown.

"I think that dress is only suitable for evening wear." I
scrutinized the cap sleeves that attached to the off-theshoulder neckline. "It's January, Jitty, and you look like
you're headed to a barbecue at Twelve Oaks on a hot summer day. I think you're seasonally deluded."

"Throwing insults at me won't change the pickle
you've gotten yourself in, Missy. And I am going to a barbecue. You forget, where I reside it can be any season, any
year."

"I thought we were going to stay out of the past." I let
my gaze sweep over her attire, hoping to taunt her. I didn't
want her to leave. Once she went, I'd be all alone with my
thoughts, and they were exquisitely unpleasant.

"Throw a party, Sarah Booth. Have a barbecue" She
reached behind her and produced a picture hat. When
she placed it on her head, I almost sighed at the vision she
made. One eyebrow arched as she spoke. "Dahlia House
was meant for parties."

"Why should I have a party for people who think I'm a
murderer?" The idea of trying to entertain people was
enough to send me the rest of the way into a full-blown
anxiety attack.

"The whole town is talkin'. Folks think you killed Renata. Think what Scarlett would do"

"You're right!" She was, in a twisted kind of way, brilliant. "Scarlett would rub their noses in it." I had an inspiration. "Remember that candy lipstick Daddy used to buy for me! I haven't seen any for years, but I'll bet I can find
it on eBay!"

Jitty's smile told me I was on the right track.

"I'll play it to the hilt." The idea had taken on a life of
its own. "I'll invite the cast and crew. A strike party when
the show closes. I'll invite Coleman, too. And I'll have
candy lipstick as dessert"

"That's the spirit. Now make your guest list. I've got
places to go and people to see"

Jitty began to fade. As much as I wanted to keep her
with me, I didn't say anything. She had her own afterlife
to live. I was stuck with mine.

Two A.M. found me sitting at my computer. Instead of
sweet dreams of a film career, my mind had clung to the
image of Coleman in the parking lot telling Graf that I
couldn't leave Sunflower County because I was a murderer. Or murderess, depending on a person's semantic
preference. I didn't think it mattered to Coleman what
gender tag he put on the word. Judging by his conduct, he
really believed that I'd killed Renata.

I tried not to dwell on that and attempted to turn my
mind down another trail by researching what I could find
on Bobbe Renshaw. Graf had confided in me, even though
he hadn't yet told the authorities, that he'd seen Bobbe exiting Renata's dressing room just before the intermission.
And there was the dog urine in Renata's wardrobe closet.
Kristine was equally high on the list of potential killers.
Now, though, I wanted to know Bobbe's background.

After a few tries on different search engines, I found
far more than I'd anticipated. Bobbe had graduated from
UCLA with a degree in film history. Somehow, she changed
the direction of her life and become involved with makeup.

A little more reading, and I found why she'd changed
her interest. She'd dated the lead singer of a rock band, C-4,
a group known for theatrics. In one song, "Reptile Boy,"
Danny Joe Batson was attacked by a man in a mask carrying a chain saw. As blood spurted across the stage,
Danny's arm would fly into the audience. Then, in a miracle of healing, Danny would regenerate an arm and begin
to play again. The makeup had been high-class and demanding. Bobbe had shown a talent for it.