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Authors: Angela Henry

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BOOK: Diva's Last Curtain Call
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“I don’t think so, young man,” said Vivianne with a look of disdain. She looked at the man’s outstretched hand as though it was a wasp trying to land on her shoulder. “Please step back behind the table or I refuse to give you an autograph.” Her graciousness apparently didn’t extend to being touched.

The poor nerdy guy looked as if he might cry, but he complied with the diva’s demands and stepped back behind the table. He rushed off looking quite embarrassed after getting his autograph.

It was after this that her assistant, Harriet Randall, a squat sour-faced black woman with the demeanor of an army sergeant, called a halt to the autographs and led Vivianne away to her dressing room. Allegra hadn’t exaggerated when she’d described Harriet. It was no wonder she couldn’t get an interview.

When I’d gotten up that morning, after a sex-and Carl-free night spent sleeping on my couch, Allegra was already dressed and gone, leaving my bedroom looking as if a tornado had torn through it. I really wasn’t in the mood to be bothered with her anyway, but I couldn’t help wondering where she was off to so early in the morning. After a breakfast of cold cereal, I picked up Mama, who was still acting a little frosty over the shower, and we headed off to the ceremony. I was worried Allegra would show up, trying to get an interview, and get herself in trouble again. But, by the time the ceremony started, I was relieved that she didn’t appear to be anywhere around.

“Your mom is gonna be so sorry she wasn’t able to get home for this. She’s a big Vivi fan, too,” Mama whispered during the retrospective, causing some die-hard Vivi fans to shush her.

My parents lived in Florida and had recently left to go backpacking around Europe, a dream trip they’d been planning for over a year. Witnessing an aging actress get an award hardly compared to the trip of a lifetime. But I nodded in agreement anyway.

“I thought Allie was going to be here,” said Mama.

“She’s probably here someplace,” I replied, ignoring the irritated disembodied sighs coming from around me. Mama was craning her neck and peering through the dark auditorium trying to spot her granddaughter. I was so tempted to tell her about Allegra getting caught in Vivianne’s house, but decided it wasn’t my place, and, besides, that would be tattling.

The film retrospective ended and the lights came back on. People were on their feet applauding and chanting “Vivi! Vivi! Vivi!” I looked toward the front of the auditorium expecting to see Vivianne smiling and waving like a beauty queen. But she was nowhere to be seen. Then a loud piercing fire alarm sounded and cut through the cheering and clapping like a knife. I didn’t see or smell any smoke. Was this a joke? Everyone was looking confused and I heard a chorus of groans and cursing as we were instructed to leave the auditorium quickly by an annoyed-looking member of the film festival committee. As I was guiding Mama through the jostling crowd, I happened to turn and look down the long hallway that led to the basement dressing rooms used by performers. I saw Allegra run up the basement steps looking dazed and terrified. I called out to her, but in the loud commotion she didn’t hear me, and I watched as she turned and rushed out a nearby exit. Once outside, I looked around for her and spotted her rental car tearing out of the parking lot.

I did not have a good feeling about this. Since Allegra had come from the direction of the dressing rooms, then she must have been trying to see Vivianne again. And Harriet Randall must have called the police again. At least that was the only excuse I could come up with for my sister looking so scared. I was relieved that Mama hadn’t seen her, but I noticed she was still scanning the crowd looking for her.

“I wonder how much longer we’re going to have to wait to get back in?” asked Mama, after we’d been waiting in the parking lot for fifteen minutes.

Most of the other attendees were also still waiting but many people had left in huff. I really wanted to leave myself to find out what was up with Allegra but Mama, being a movie buff and proud of Vivianne DeArmond’s connection to Willow, wouldn’t hear of it. The fire department had arrived five minutes earlier and we were waiting for the all clear, when a nervous-looking male film festival committee member addressed the restless crowd.

“Um, excuse me ladies and gentlemen,” began the man in a gruff voice, looking like he might throw up. What in the world was going on?

“Due to an unfortunate circumstance, the award ceremony has been cancelled. We’re going to have to ask that you all leave the premises at once,” the man said, wiping sweat from his bald head with a handkerchief.

After a minute of stunned silence, everyone started talking at once. The committee member had a crowd of angry people surrounding him that he was unsuccessfully trying to placate.

“I came all the way from Pittsburgh for this,” exclaimed one angry woman, pointing a chubby finger at the man’s chest.

“I took off from work to be here today,” said a handsome older black man wearing a T-shirt that read: Viva Vivi! But the committee member remained mum as to why the ceremony had been cancelled.

Some people, not needing to be told twice, jumped in their cars and took off. I noticed one of them was the nerdy-looking man who’d tried to hug Vivianne during the autograph signing. He looked around nervously before hopping in a beat-up white VW van and taking off. I’d heard about many instances of Vivianne’s diva behavior, including holding up production on a movie set for hours after getting a paper cut while going over her script, and wondered if she was up to her old tricks again. I prayed that’s all it was.

“Oh, come on, Kendra. Take me home. I don’t have time for this mess. I’ve got stuff I could be doing.” I silently followed Mama to my car, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that something was terribly wrong and wondering what my sister had to do with it.

This feeling intensified as Mama and I were pulling out of the auditorium’s parking lot and a couple of police cars and an ambulance arrived.

“I wonder what happened?” asked Mama, looking back. I didn’t reply. My mouth was suddenly very dry.

When I pulled up into Mama’s driveway, Allegra’s rented black Toyota was parked with the front bumper scraping the closed garage door. Mama hopped out and inspected the damage to her garage door. Besides the scrape in the paint, the aluminum door was dented, and looked to have been knocked off track. I could tell she was highly pissed.

“I bet that silly girl wasn’t even paying attention! Always looking at herself in the mirror. And she
will
be paying to get my garage door fixed! You can bank on that.” I followed Mama through the side gate into the backyard where we could hear someone crying hysterically. It was Allegra. She was sitting on the porch step sobbing. When she spotted Mama, she flew off the porch straight into her arms.

“Allie? Baby what’s wrong?” Mama said, patting Allegra’s back and giving me a bewildered look. We both knew this couldn’t be about a broken garage door. Allegra usually tries to sweet-talk her way out of any wrong doing she’s guilty of. She tried to talk, but we couldn’t understand a word she was saying through her hiccupping sobs.

Mama tossed me her house keys. “Go get her some water.” I went to do as I was told and took a big gulp of cold water myself before going back outside. I was almost too afraid to know what was wrong.

After taking a few sips of the water, Allegra finally calmed down enough to talk.

“It was so horrible, Mama,” she said shaking her head at the memory. “Vivianne DeArmond. She’s…she’s—” She started to sob again. Mama had had enough and grabbed her by the shoulders giving her a good shake.

Allegra twisted free of her grasp and blurted out, “She’s dead, okay! Somebody killed her!”

Mama gasped and stared at me.

“Come on. We need to go inside,” I said, ushering my still-crying sister and my shocked grandmother into the house.

 

 

Once we were all seated around the kitchen table, Allegra finally told us what happened. As it turned out, I was right to be uneasy.

“I found a message written in the dirt on the hood of my rental car yesterday after Carl and I left the police station and I went back to Vivianne’s house. It was—”

“Police station? What in the world were you doing at the police station?” Mama interrupted. Allegra’s eyes got big and she looked at me. Crap. I wasn’t about to let her drag me into her little scheme from yesterday. It had been
her
master plan, so she could explain it to Mama.

“Allegra can explain that to you when she’s finished. Go ahead,” I said, gesturing for her to continue.

“She better explain,” Mama mumbled.

“Uh, anyway, like I said, there was a message on my hood. It said ‘Call me’, and there was a phone number. So, I called the number and it was Vivianne DeArmond. I couldn’t believe it! She told me she wanted to give me an interview but she could only spare me a few minutes and she didn’t want to be on camera. She told me she could talk to me this morning at eleven-thirty before she accepted her award. She said not to be late or to tell anyone about the interview.” She stopped talking and took another sip of water.

“I got to her dressing room on time and knocked on the door. But no one answered so I walked in anyway. She was lying on floor. She was dead!”

“Are you sure she was dead, Allie? Maybe she just fainted,” Mama said.

“No, she had a knife in her back and there was blood on the floor and on the walls,” Allegra said. She wrapped her arms around her as if she was suddenly cold.

“What did you do after that?” I asked, hoping maybe she’d told someone about Vivianne before fleeing a murder scene.

“What did I do? What do you mean what did I do? The fire alarm went off and I got the hell out of there and came straight here. What was else was I supposed to do? I wasn’t going to stick around, especially after what happened yesterday.” Allegra looked at me again and Mama puffed up.

“One of you needs to tell me what exactly happened yesterday, and I mean right now!”

When she realized I wasn’t going to do her explaining for her, Allegra told Mama all about sneaking into Vivianne’s house and getting picked up by the police. I made sure she didn’t leave anything out. Mama sat shaking her head and was silent for along time.

“So you just took off and didn’t even bother telling anyone or trying to get help?” Mama asked incredulously.

“I was scared, Mama, the police will think I had something to do with it because of what happened yesterday.”

“Oh, Allie.” Mama sighed, shaking her head.

“What!” She huffed, looking at both of us like we were the crazy ones. Apparently, I was going to have to enlighten her.

“How do you think this is going to look when the police find out you were there and fled the scene? I saw you leave the auditorium and I know I couldn’t have been the only one who did.” I realized my mistake immediately when Mama’s head whipped around and she shot me a venomous stare.

“Well, why in the devil didn’t you tell
me
you’d seen your sister? You knew I was looking for her.”

“I didn’t want to worry you because I didn’t know what was going on,” I said meekly.

“Like I’m not worried now?” She leaned back in her chair dramatically and pressed a hand to her forehead like we were going to be the death of her. Anyone wondering where Allegra gets her drama gene wouldn’t have far to look.

After a few uncomfortable minutes of silently watching Mama frown and shake her head and Allegra stare stony-faced and teary-eyed out the kitchen window, I made a suggestion that should have been obvious to anyone with good sense.

“Come on. We need to go to the police station so Allie can give them a statement.” Mama mumbled in agreement and we got up from the table but Allegra just sat there and looked at us like she didn’t understand English. We waited for her to get up but she didn’t move.

“Allegra Janine Clayton, get your behind up from that table so we can go get this straightened out!” Mama said in a voice that dared my sister to disobey and took me back to childhood. In my case it had usually been, “Kendra Janelle Clayton, get your behind out there and cut me a switch!” I cringed at the memory.

But Allegra still didn’t budge. Uh-oh. I thought Mama might combust.

“Did you hear me, girl?” Mama leaned down and got right in Allegra’s face. Her voice was a low snarl.

“You want me to go cut a switch?” I offered hopefully, but was only answered with dirty looks from both of them.

“All right, if that’s the way you want it. I’ll just call the police and have them come over here.” Mama headed for the wall phone in the pantry. Allegra burst into tears again.

“I don’t wanna go to jail, Mama. I didn’t do anything!” she wailed, as tears flowed freely down her face and a trickle of snot dripped from her nose. She ran a hand over her face smearing the tears and snot. Eew! She certainly didn’t look like much of a goddess now.

My grandmother stared at me in defeat. She’d never been able to stand seeing Allegra in tears. If it had been me she’d have dragged me to the police station by the scruff of my neck. But I sensed now wouldn’t be a good time to point this out. We both sat back down.

“Allie, this is exactly why you need to go down and tell them what happened. Now, how’s it going to look if they have to track you down? Then you’re really going to look guilty,” I said softly, handing her a tissue from my purse.

She shook her head no and poked her lip out slightly like a sulky toddler. I groaned and laid my head down on the table.

“Come on, baby,” Mama said, getting up and putting an arm around my stubborn little sister. She gently attempted to pull her to her feet. Allegra stiffened up and didn’t move for a moment. It almost looked like Mama was trying to drag a reluctant dog by its leash. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Then we can figure out what we’re gonna do, okay?” Allegra finally stood up and allowed herself to be led to the bathroom. Mama tossed me a look that said “Think of something” over her shoulder. But I was way ahead of her.

Allegra might not want to listen to what we had to say, but there was one person who I knew she’d listen to. Even though I didn’t want to think about the looks the two of them had given each other the night before, I got on the phone and called Carl anyway.

BOOK: Diva's Last Curtain Call
2.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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