Ham Bones (3 page)

His behavior had been puzzling at first. Now it was
frightening. Coleman was a man who took his vows seriously, but I couldn't help but wonder if the gunshot-or
Connie's shenanigans-had done something permanent.

Though we'd never acted on our feelings for each
other-with the exception of a few kisses-I was afraid
that somehow he felt as if he'd dishonored his marriage
vows to Connie. Forget that she was a psycho bitch who'd
tried to kill me. Forget that she'd tricked Coleman into
staying in the marriage by pretending to be pregnant. Forget that her entire life with Coleman had been a lie. Connie had never been capable of the type of love that Coleman had committed to. Now I had to wonder if he would ever
really be free of her.

I sipped the Jack I'd poured over ice and lifted my latest book. I was way into the preternatural adventures of
Sookie Stackhouse when a vigorous knock on the front
door almost made me jump out of my skin.

Coleman! At last he'd come to spend some time with
me. I did a fashion check to be sure the snowflake pajama
bottoms matched my top and hurried to open the door.

The blast of winter wind was nothing compared to the
chill that raced through me at the sight of Graf Milieu. I
tried to close the door, but he was quicker. He wedged in
a foot and then slipped inside.

"We have to talk, Sarah Booth"

"No, we don't have to talk." There was nothing to say.

"I need your help."

"People in hell need ice water." It wasn't original, but
it expressed my desire to help him perfectly.

"Renata is driving me insane."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I'd heard that Graf had become romantically involved with Renata about two minutes after I left New York. Good. Whatever Renata was
dishing out, he deserved it.

"Stop it." He unwound his scarf, revealing his dimpled
chin. "She's impossible."

"Perfect for you" I'd been so damn possible that it hurt
me to remember.

"She's forgetting her lines. We've done this play a
thousand times, and she can't remember her cues" Frustration rippled across his handsome face. The problem
with Graf was that he was an actor. A superb actor. I
never knew when he was telling the truth or when he was
acting.

"That's not a problem I can help you with, Graf."

"But it is!"

Despite myself, I was intrigued. "How?"

"Would you be her understudy?"

The request was absurd. "You have some nerve. I left
New York because you let me know that you didn't have
any faith in me as an actor. Now you come here and ask
me to be Renata's understudy. Are you insane?" The more
I talked the angrier I became.

"It was never your acting ability I doubted, Sarah
Booth. It was that you didn't believe in yourself as an
actor."

"Get out" I had enough emotional turmoil in my life
without him dredging up a past that was more than painful.

"At least hear me out" He brushed past me and
walked into the parlor. "This is a great house. No wonder
you came home"

I prayed that Jitty would appear in full belle regalia
and run him back into the dark winter night. No such
luck. Jitty was not a ghost to be summoned. I watched
helplessly as Graf went to the sideboard and poured himself a Scotch.

"Graf, I'm going to call the sheriff if you don't leave."

"I'm surprised that Mr. Peters isn't here with you, all
snuggly in those lovely flannel pajamas."

"Victoria's Secret isn't my game anymore" I drew myself up to my full height. "I don't need subterfuge and artifice"

His laughter rang in the big room. "Well done!"

The room was suddenly too hot as the blood rushed to
the surface of my skin. "Graf, I want you to leave."

Instead he took a seat in one of the wing chairs. "Not
until you agree to be Renata's understudy."

I shook my head. "Positively not. I have a business to
run. In case you haven't heard, Delaney Detective Agency
is a very successful enterprise and-"

"Your partner told me you were between cases"

Damn Tinkie! I'd strangle her when I got my hands on
her. "The phone could ring any minute with another case.
I can't afford to be tied up every night in some production."

"Don't you still dream of acting?"

He was Satan. "No. I don't. You made it clear enough
that I didn't have the necessary talent."

Jitty couldn't move as fast as he did. He was in front of
me, his hands on my shoulders, fingers warm through the
flannel of my top. "It wasn't talent you lacked, Sarah
Booth. It was conviction. You never gave it a hundred percent. You always held something back, in case you failed.
The rest of it you had in spades-talent, beauty, a presence on the stage. All I tried to do was shake you up
enough to make you risk everything."

"Stop it!" I shook free of him and went to the sideboard. I still had plenty of Jack left in my glass, but I went
through the motions of freshening my drink. My mind
was in a whirl. A year too late, Graf told me the things I'd
needed to hear when I first went to New York. He was
right. I'd always held a little back, just in case it didn't
work out. Just a little bit to save my heart from totally
breaking.

"Sarah Booth, the year you've been away has only
added to your beauty. You've gained that confidence. I see
it in the way you walk, in the way you look directly into
my eyes"

Which was the one thing I didn't want to do at all. In
Graf's eyes, I could see the past, and the glimmer of a future promise. I didn't want either. "I have changed, Graf. Enough to know that I don't want that life anymore. I'm a
private investigator, and a dang good one. I make a difference in people's lives. I've come home to my heritage and
my friends. This is what I want"

"A six-month gig in Hollywood could get you enough
money to paint this old house and make a few necessary
repairs." His glance swung around the room. "If you had
a hundred thousand dollars to put into it, this could be a
showplace."

"And if frogs had wings they wouldn't bump their
asses" I walked to the door. "Please leave. I'm not interested. Besides, the last time I was Renata's understudy
she never even had the sniffles."

He caught the whiff of my desire like a bloodhound on
a scent. "It won't be like that this time. Renata isn't herself. I promise you. She can't remember her lines. It's getting obvious to everyone. I heard her talking with her
brother about her forgetfulness. Even she knows it. Sarah
Booth, Maggie the Cat is a part written for you. Tennessee Williams must have dreamed you when he wrote
it."

He was Satan, come to tempt me with a long-ago
dream that I'd had sense enough to put behind me. The
truth was, of all the plays in the world, Cat on a Hot Tin
Roof was the one I most adored. Maggie was a role both
strong and weak, cunning and naive. It was a test of an
actress's skills. My idol, Elizabeth Taylor, had done the
role justice, and it was a mark that any actor worth her
salt aspired to.

"I have a real job" I pointed to the door. If I could just
get him to leave, I'd be okay. I'd find some holy water and
douse the house.

"What if I told you that Renata said you'd be even better at Maggie than her, but you'd never get the chance?"

"I'd say there's a lot of truth in that statement, especially the part where I'll never get the chance. She'd crawl
out on that stage to keep me from getting there"

"But you want to be there!" His grin was so bright I
needed sunglasses.

"Go away. Please."

"I'll leave if you promise that you'll be the understudy.
Just learn the lines and watch a couple of rehearsals.
That's all."

"How did you get here?" My brain had suddenly
begun to function. I walked to the door and looked out.
Tinkie's Cadillac idled in the driveway. "I'm going to kill
her."

"I was calling a cab. She simply gave me a ride.
Everyone in town knows where you live, Sarah Booth. I
would have found it on my own"

The window of the Cadillac glided down. Tinkie
waved. "You'd be the best Maggie ever, Sarah Booth"

Before I could frame an indignant reply, her window
closed.

"Do I have your word?" he asked.

A year ago I would have given my toes for a chance to
play Maggie opposite Graf's Brick. Now it sounded like
trouble. I'd grown wiser, but had I grown stronger, more
able to risk? I'd never know if I didn't step onto that stage.
"Okay."

He leaned down and kissed my cheek. "I can't wait."
He opened the door and left, his footsteps on the porch
reminding me that the past could be left behind, unless it
walked right back in the front door.

Keith Watley, the director, stood in the costume dock
with his hands on his hips. "Big Mama, you're just not big enough! Bobbe! Bobbe, find the wardrobe girl and
put more padding under that muumuu. I hire a hefty actress and she goes on Atkin's Diet. What am Ito do?" He
looked around the auditorium for someone to blame.

I sat in the back of the theatre and watched. Renata
looked fabulous and fit as a fiddle. I'd wasted three very
precious days waiting for the leading lady to fall sick.
Unless I slipped a little salmonella into her salad, she
wasn't going to miss a single performance.

"It's going to be wonderful!" Tinkle sat on the edge of
the seat beside me. "I just wish the dragon lady would get
a tiny bit sick. Just enough to give you a chance. I heard
Renata and Graf arguing backstage. It's a good thing this
isn't a love story or they'd never be able to pull it off.
They hate each other."

Tinkie was happy as a clam with the inside gossip.
"Two big egos do not a happy romance make" I slumped
farther in my seat. I'd let my dreams rise up, and they
were going to bite me on the butt. Jitty was right. I was
still living in the past. My acting days were over, and I
was foolish to spend my valuable time waiting for someone else to get sick. I pushed myself up. "I'm going
home"

Tinkie tilted her head and glanced up at me. "What's
going on with Coleman?"

"I wish I knew." I was tired of trying to make excuses
for the fact that the man I'd given my heart to had abandoned me.

"I saw him in town this morning, and he doesn't look
good" Tinkie rose and followed me from the auditorium
as Keith sent us a death glare.

"You're breaking the focus of my actors!" he yelled at
our backs as we made an escape.

"It's for the best," I told Tinkie. "If he yelled at me like
that onstage, I might clobber him."

"He's a bit high-strung, but nothing you can't handle."

"What I could handle right now is a good case. I see
nothing on the horizon for us "" I was down in the dumps.
The new year had started off with a big, wet fizzle. My
love was absentee, my business was nonexistent, and my
bills were mounting by the minute.

"The play opens Friday night. That's tomorrow. It's a
seven-day run. After that I'll be ready for a case, but I
hope nothing happens before then. I've got my hands full
with these people."

I couldn't help but smile. Tinkie had Oscar and her father for financial backup. I was the Lone Ranger. If I didn't
get a case soon, I'd be at the Burger Shack flipping patties.
"I guess another week won't sink me"

"What are you wearing tomorrow night? I found this
incredible off-the-shoulder black dress" She rolled her
eyes. "You can't wear jeans, so what are you going to
wear?"

"I'll think of something." The truth was, I hadn't given
opening night a single thought. If I wasn't on the stage,
what difference did it make what I wore? I didn't have a
date.

"Is Coleman coming with you?" Tinkie honed in on
my bruise.

The doors to the auditorium burst open and Renata
strode up to me. "I won't go on tomorrow night unless I
have my lipstick!"

Bobbe Renshaw, the makeup artist, was right on her
heels. "This shade is perfect with your coloring." She
brandished a tube of red lipstick.

"I want my Almond Mocha Retreat" Renata glared at her and then turned to Tinkie. "Get my lipstick or the
show is over."

"Certainly, Ms. Trovaioli." Tinkie spoke as if Renata
were a two-year-old. "What lipstick would that be?"

"It's a special brand made just for me at a shop in
Memphis. Someone will have to run up there and pick it
up"'

I edged toward the door. I saw "gofer" written all over
this, and I had no desire to be Renata's step-and-fetch-it.

"I'm not going anywhere," Bobbe said firmly. "I don't
have a driver's license."

Tinkie turned to me. "I'm meeting with the caterers
this afternoon. I can't go"

"Sorry, I have an appointment with Reveler." It was a
perfect afternoon for a ride, and my horse was one thing
that would pull me out of my blues.

"If I don't get my lipstick, I'm going home" Renata
aimed the threat at the only one who would care-Tinkie.

She turned pleading blue eyes to me. Tears glistened in
them, and I thought about all the work she'd done to make
this happen.

"We'll find someone and pay them to go," I said.

"Fine," Renata said, her nose in the air. "If that lipstick
isn't here, and it isn't the proper shade, the curtain won't
rise. That would please you to no end, wouldn't it, Sarah
Booth? You've always been jealous of me" Renata's pale
eyes were ice daggers.

"It's difficult to be jealous of someone whose career
depends on a tube of lipstick."

"You stole the tube I had, didn't you?" She snatched at
my purse.

"That's ridiculous." Tinkie stepped in. "Sarah Booth
hasn't been near your dressing room, and besides, she
wouldn't take your lipstick."

For all of Tinkie's stalwart defense of me, she was misinformed. I had been in Renata's dressing room to deliver
the fresh roses Tinkie had ordered. It was a daily standing
order-two dozen red beauties-until the play closed.
Since I'd been doing errands for Tinkie, I'd been the one
to take the bouquet into the dressing room. Now, though,
wasn't the time or place to correct Tinkie, even though
Bobbe Renshaw cut me a knowing glance.