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Dolly didn’t budge. She was afraid, worried stiff about the man who supposedly was waiting to meet her in the lobby.

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EILEEN GOUDGE

Rudy Carrera.

What could he want? Hadn’t she already told him she didn’t know anything, that she hadn’t heard from Eve or her girls in years? Why the third degree now? She shivered at the memory of his call last night. There had been something in his voice … something she couldn’t place …no, not something, but something missing. He hadn’t seemed desperately curious, or terribly eager, or any of that. It was as if …

… he already knew.

Dolly felt her heart start pounding, with dread.

At first, she’d tried to worm her way out of meeting him. But he’d persisted, a real dog with a bone. And in the end she’d felt she owed it to her nieces to find out what, if anything, Rudy knew. Suppose it was nothing? Then at least they could relax a little.

Gathering her coat and rising to her feet, feeling stiff, Dolly wondered how the hell she’d managed to sit through two features. Storm Alley. She hadn’t watched it in years. What a sweet thrill it had been, and a shock, too, to see Eve up on the screen, bright and sassy and full of beans, shining like the star she was. Nothing like the poor wasted creature she had been at the end.

And that bit where Eve’s tart-with-a-heart-of-gold, Maxie Maguire, gets back at Gino, telling him she’s dying of cancer, and then tricking him into plugging her so he’ll wind up with a murder rap. Lord, what a tearjerker. Who but Eve could’ve pulled it off, making it all seem so natural? At the end, Dolly had heard quite a few of those around her sniffling and honking quietly into their Kleenexes. And she’d been one of them. But maybe she had another reason for getting choked up.

Dolly peered around at the theatre-tatty plush chairs, threadbare curtains, and flaking Egyptian-Deco gilt. Eve-the old Eve-would’ve gotten a kick out of all this, seeing her star mellowed to golden-oldie status.

She remembered first seeing this retrospective advertised in the Times: “Sisters of the Silver Screen.” Six double billings, films starring famous (or, in her case, notso-famous) Hollywood sisters. Olivia de Havilland in Hold

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l8c

Back the Dawn, along with Joan Fontaine in Suspicion. Two real oldies with Lillian and Dorothy Gish. Then her name alongside Eve’s.

An omen. A bad omen, she had thought.

And then, out of the blue, Rudy Carrera.

It had to be money. Why else would he have called her? Because if he already knew how to get to Annie and Laurel, then what did he need her for?

Now, slowly rising to her feet, Dolly saw that she wasn’t alone. A man hunched way down in the first row seemed to be in no hurry, either. And now he was getting up, too, making his way up the aisle, his head tucked low so she couldn’t see his face. But there was something about his troll-like body, that strutting cock-of-the-walk gait, that made her feel cold all over.

“Rudy.” She almost choked saying it.

He stopped, and tilted his head up at her. “Hey, Dolly, nice seein’ you again.”

He was grinning. He had the look of an egg-suck dog fresh from raiding the henhouse. On a taller man, his clothes might have looked stylish; light-colored trousers, two-toned shoes, and a paisley print challis sports shirt unbuttoned at the top. He carried a coat over one arm. But Rudy was so stubby-even in his stacked heels, the top of his head came maybe as high as her chin-that his dapper clothes looked comical. He made her think of Mickey Rooney swaggering around like he was seven feet tall.

Except that nothing about Rudy Carrera was cute. Dolly felt a glimmer of pity for the picked-on little boy he once had to have been. It must’ve been tough, growing up alongside his handsome younger brother.

“You knew, I never saw Dames in Chains when it first came out,” he said, eyeing her calmly, with amusement.

“Not many people did.”

“Too bad. You were terrific in it.”

“Thanks. Is that why you’re here? So you could see what I used to look like?”

“Not exactly. But, you see, that’s sort of my point.”

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He reached into the front pocket of his shirt, and fished out a stick of Juicy Fruit, which he unwrapped, then folded in half before popping it into his mouth. “You were an actress,” he went on, working his jaw in a grinding circular motion. “A pretty good one, too. A point my brother, I think, failed to take into account when he spoke with you over the phone.” Despite a coating of lawyerly polish, his gutter intonation still came through.

Dolly felt trapped. She had to take the offensive, and fast.

“Cut the crap,” she snapped. “What is it you want?”

Rudy glanced around. An usher stood by the door, pointedly staring, wanting them to leave so he could lock up. It was nearly midnight. “Let’s get out of here,” Rudy said. “You know a place around here where we can talk?”

Up the avenue, at an all-night deli, Rudy ordered coffee and a pastrami on rye. Waiting for his sandwich, he lit a cigarette, leaned back, and squinted at her through the drifting smoke.

“I found them,” he said.

Dolly felt as if she’d stuck her finger in a light socket. It took all her training to maintain her bland expression, to keep from ducking Rudy’s cool gaze. She pressed her palms up against the underside of the table to still her trembling.

“What are you talking about?” she hedged.

“Look, let’s not dick around. I know you were lying to me before, and so do you. I had an investigator friend follow Annie home the other day. Smart kid, she managed to ditch him the first time. After that he was just a little more careful.” Rudy patted his breast pocket. “I have the address right here. East Fourteenth. Midwood section of Brooklyn. Not a bad little setup for a couple of runaways, my man says.”

Dolly had an urge to smack that smug look right off his face. She felt blood rushing into her head, her scalp prickling. Okay, hardball. No use in her playing innocent; she’d toss it right back at him.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

Before he could respond, the waitress arrived with

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their coffee and an obscenely thick pastrami sandwich. He bit into it with relish, tearing off a huge chunk, which he chewed for what seemed like an hour. Finally, he swallowed, tore a paper napkin from the dispenser, and dragged it across his mouth.

He stared at her, his piggy eyes boring into her.

“I don’t want anything,” he said. “Nada, not a thing.”

Was he for real? What kind of bargaining ploy was this? She’d pay him anything she could, but better not tell him that straight out.

“Look,” she persisted. “Tell me what you want … anything within reason. If I can swing it, it’s yours.” He had to be pulling down a good income of his own, but maybe he had gambling debts, or had made some bad investments.

Rudy grinned, dabbing at a spot of mustard in the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I heard you married oil. Smart move. But then, I always did think you were a smart babe. Smart enough not to marry my brother, at least.”

“You didn’t call me just to butter me up,” Dolly said, narrowing her eyes. “What do you want?”

“And that business with your sister,” Rudy continued, almost as if she hadn’t spoken. “How you stuck it to her … Boy, that took balls. I gotta give it to you, Dolly. A woman like that, I said to myself at the time, you’d sure as hell want her on your side.”

Dolly felt an urge to cram that sandwich of his down his throat until he choked.

“How … how do you know about that?” She had to push the words past the tightness in her throat, as if she were the one being choked to death.

“Val gotlkhe lowdown from your sister. Yeah, he was real pissed about it, but Eve made him keep his mouth shut. She didn’t want everybody knowing it was her own dear sister that turned her in. Ashamed, I guess. She must’ve been afraid people would think she was a real bad person if her own flesh would do something like that.” He paused long enough for his punch to hit home. “Val came to me right after Eve died, figuring there might still be

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some way of turning the whole thing around to his advantage. Like maybe suing you, and getting you to pay him off with some big settlement. But I told him it wouldn’t work. He’d waited too long. There’s a statute of limitations on these things.”

Dolly was trembling so hard, she didn’t dare even pick up her coffee cup. “Okay, Rudy, spit it out. What are you getting at? What do you want from me?”

”What do I want from you?” He tipped his chin back, eyes narrowing in concentration. “Just a little cooperation, is all. Set up a meeting with Val’s daughter-Laurel. I don’t want to scare her by popping up outa the blue.”

Dolly felt herself breathing too quickly, her chest squeezed tight, as if she’d been stuffed back into that tootight corset in Dames in Chains. He was really scaring her now. It took a minute to control her breathing before she could say, “Why should I?”

“Because I know you care about her, want what’s best for her, that’s why.” He dropped his head, and was staring at her in a way that made her itch all over as if she were breaking out in poison ivy. “Because from the way you’re acting I’d guess you feel guilty as hell about what you did to Eve. You want to make it up to her kids, right? You want to make it nice for them … and for yourself?” He blew out smoke with a slow hissing sound. “Am I right?”

Dolly felt as if he’d somehow stripped off all her clothes, as if she were stark naked. She wanted to get out of here, fast, leave this creep in the dust and never see him ever again. But she forced herself to sit perfectly still. She knew she had to. This was for Annie and Laurel, not for herself.

“What about Val?” she asked. “How come he’s not here?”

“This isn’t about Val.” Ignoring the ashtray at his elbow, he ground his cigarette out in the saucer of his coffee cup.

A shiver rippled up Dolly’s spine. Just what the hell was he up to? Could it be something … well, dirty! Like back in Clemscott, when Pop Farraday got caught in his

*

drugstore’s back room trying to diddle little Nancy Underwood? She had a violent urge to leap up and wrap her hands around his fat pink neck.

“Listen, buster, you better not have any perverted ideas about-“

“Hey, hey there.” From the pouches of flesh on either side of his squashed-looking nose, his small eyes peered reproachfully. “You think I’m one of those creeps, get it out of your head. I just want to see the kid. Talk to her, get to know her a little. She’s my niece, too, you know.”

“Why now? I never heard about you bothering with her or Annie before.”

“Before.” He digested this. “There was a lot of things different before. And, anyway, this is now.”

He squinted, staring dreamily off toward the quickserve counter up front, where a girl in a pink uniform was cutting a wedge of lemon meringue pie.

“What about Val?” Dolly asked.

Rudy’s eyes snapped back from whatever dark place he’d been peering into. “Forget about Val. This doesn’t have a thing to do with him. He doesn’t know about this. And I intend to keep it that way.”

“I don’t get it. And I sure as hell don’t see why I should help you.”

“Look, let’s get one thing straight.” He levelled his gaze at her. “I don’t need you. I’m only doing this for her sake. I figured you could make it easier for the kid, explain the situation so she doesn’t have a fit when she sees me.”

“How do you know I won’t warn them? By this time tomorrow, they could be in another city, or even out of the country.”

He smiled. “I know you won’t let that happen. Because you want what I want. Because you and I, underneath, we’re not so different.”

Dolly shivered. Yet deep down, she couldn’t deny it. Yes, she was selfish. She wanted to be near Annie and Laurel. Be a sort of mother to them. Was that so terrible?

Okay, then, maybe what Rudy wanted wasn’t so terrible, either. Even so, thinking of Laurel off somewhere

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with him, even just walking in the park, gave her the creeps.

/ have to make him go back to L.A., forget about her.

But Rudy, she realized, wasn’t like Val. He couldn’t be gotten rid of just by hanging up the phone. Better shoot straight from the hip.

“Name your price,” she told him. “Come on. I know you’re not doing this for the money. But for what I’ll pay, you could set yourself up with a nice, classy lady who’ll give great head and tell you twice a day how you remind her of Paul Newman.”

Rudy’s face darkened, his hands curling into fists, and for a second she thought he might hit her. Then he pulled himself up and grinned. “The deal I have in mind is a little different. Your silence for mine. Even Steven.”

“Wh-What?” she stammered.

“When I do talk to Laurel, you wouldn’t want it to leak out just who it was that handed her mother in to Senator McCarthy, now would you? And in exchange, I’ll trust you not to say a word to Annie of our little … arrangement.”

Dolly felt as if every drop of blood had been drained from her body.

“You … bastard.” It was an effort just to make her lips move. “You’re doing this to get back at Val. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No, you’ve got it wrong. It’s not that at all.” He leaned forward slightly, color rising in his pasty cheeks, a gritty undercurrent of passion in his voice. “I don’t want to get back at Val. I just want something of his.”

“What about Annie? How do you plan on keeping this from her?”

“Leave that to me. I have an idea.”

Dolly knew then that she had lost. And that once again, she would be dragged into deceit and betrayal. She’d have to lie to Annie, set up Rudy’s meeting Laurel behind Annie’s back. Because if Annie ever found out, she’d bolt. She’d grab Laurel and run away all over again. Dolly wanted to rest her head on the table and weep.

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No, she couldn’t tell Annie the truth. With Henri in Paris, with no hope of his ever getting a divorce, she couldn’t bear the thought of being without her nieces as well.