Mama Sees Stars: A Mace Bauer Mystery (15 page)

I was still shaking,
not from fear but from anger.
Hicksville
? Who the hell did Greg Tilton think he was?

I was on my way back to base camp, to warn Mama and my sisters about him. I didn’t even want to think about what might have happened if he’d tried the same thing on Marty, who is as sweet, and about as fragile, as a child’s heirloom doll. Passing by where Tilton had been sitting, I noticed a raccoon had jumped onto the table. He’d gotten past the plastic wrap on the sandwich Tilton left, and was feasting on half of it. I must have been right about the tuna fish. Raccoons can’t resist the strong smell.

Paul’s wife, Savannah, was talking with my family. She was animated, gesturing with those graceful hands. Sal had left, probably to have that word that Carlos wanted. But my sisters and Mama leaned forward, listening eagerly. Savannah noticed me first, and waved me over. As I got closer, her smile changed into a worried frown.

“Where’s Greg?’’ she asked.

All eyes were on me, expectant.

“Gone, thankfully.’’

“What did you do, Mace?’’ Mama tsk-tsked. “Don’t tell me you managed to scare him away, too.’’

“Oh, I scared him all right; but only after he scared me first.’’

Savannah nodded. “I told you so,’’ she said to my sisters. “Did he force himself on you, Mace?’’

Mama’s eyes got round. Marty gasped. Maddie reached out a hand to touch my cheek. “Did he hurt you?’’ my big sister asked.

I shook my head, uncomfortable now with all the attention on me. “He did try something, but he didn’t get very far. I’m fine.’’

Maddie patted my face with relief. “He’s not nearly as big as he looks in the movies. If anything, you probably hurt him.’’

“Well, not permanently,’’ I said with a smile.

“I’m just happy to hear you took care of it,’’ Savannah said. “Just so long as it wasn’t his face. Paul’s shooting Greg’s close-up scenes this afternoon.’’

“Oh, it wasn’t his face.’’ I told them what Tilton had done, and how certain he’d seemed that I’d be willing to play along. “I kicked his butt, and left him sprawled in a patch of poison ivy.’’

“Well, I’d say that’s right where he belongs, honey. Not that I approve of violence, but you had every right,’’ Mama said. “See if I ever ask him for his autograph!’’

Savannah reached into her purse. She slid a wrapped candy across the table. “I was saving this for later, but you need a treat from ‘Savannah City Confections’ more than I do. The pralines are good, but this chocolate’s to die for. They’re from my hometown.’’

I thanked her, and then asked, “When I first walked up, you said ‘I told you so.’ What did you mean?’’

She brushed back a thick lock of her graying hair. She really was pretty. She had Meryl Streep’s dignity, crossed with the perky Southern charm of Reese Witherspoon.

“Your mama had gone off to the little girl’s room when I sat down, but your sisters told me Greg followed you off into the woods. I had a bad feeling …’’

Marty said, “… and you were right.’’

Savannah’s nod was grim. “He fancies himself a ladies’ man. When a lady doesn’t agree, he’s been known to get really ugly, really fast.’’

“Is that personal experience talking?’’ I asked.

She cast her eyes down, her long lashes feathery against milky skin. Her voice was a whisper. “I’m not the only one.’’

Mama put a hand on Savannah’s arm. “Now, I’m doubly glad Mace gave him what for.’’

Maddie said, “How come we’ve never read about this side of Greg Tilton in
People
magazine?’’

Savannah lifted her shoulders. “There have never been formal charges, as far as I can tell. Women know if they come forward against a famous star like Greg, their whole lives become open for examination. Nobody wants to be hounded by paparazzi, or become the lead story in the
National Enquirer
.’’

Marty shook her head. “That’s not right. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.’’

Savannah waved a hand. “Everyone makes excuses for him. And he did have a terrible childhood. His mom was an abusive drug addict who abandoned him, basically selling him for a pipe full of crack. He lived in a whole series of foster homes; most every one of them was worse than the last.’’

“How old was he?’’ Mama asked.

“Four or five when his mom sold him.’’

“Old enough to realize what happened,’’ I said.

“I can see how he might want to feel loved,’’ Marty said.

Maddie balled her fists and rubbed pretend tears from her eyes. “Oh, boo-hoo-hoo. None of that gives him the right to go forcing himself on women who aren’t interested in ‘loving’ him. He’s not the only person in the world who had it tough as a kid. A troubled childhood excuses nothing.’’

Savannah nodded. “You’re right, Maddie. There is no excuse. But it does help explain why he’s the way he is. And living in the bubble of Hollywood has just amplified it. When you’re a big star, you come to expect special treatment. No one
ever
says no.’’

When it comes to the word no, I was finding out that Hollywood people are a lot like spoiled toddlers, screaming for more in the checkout line at Toys “R’’ Us.

_____

Nerves always stimulate my bladder, so it was time for me to make a visit to the honey wagon.

Dispensing a butt-kicking, though, gooses my appetite. So, I made a detour on my way back by the craft services truck to check out the snacks. I grabbed an oversized brownie for myself, and two more, plus a cookie for the table.

I ducked my head into the catering tent, which was nearly empty between meals. I noticed Jesse in a corner, talking to Paul. I wondered if she was looking for praise from him about how she handled her scene. Unlike their aversion to hearing “no,’’ these people loved to hear about how great they were. Big egos and a lack of self-control seemed like a dangerous combination.

Toby and Johnny Jaybird sat at another table. Johnny, leaning in toward the younger man, was doing most of the talking. Though Toby’s eyes were aimed at the ground, his head was inclined toward Johnny. He seemed to be listening intently.

Mama’s husband was bonding over a cup of coffee with a tall, red-headed Teamster. The man had a New Yawk accent to rival Sal’s. I’d seen the teamster earlier in the week, radioing instructions to a driver arriving with an 18-wheeler filled with movie-making equipment. I had a fleeting urge to stop at their table and ask Sal if he’d spoken with Carlos. I didn’t want to seem so desperately female in front of two tough guys, though.

Excuse me, does my boyfriend still like me?

Outside, the raccoon had finished off the first half of Tilton’s sandwich, and was now working on the second. The animal seemed to be having some trouble with the plastic wrap, though. Raccoons are extraordinarily clever and dexterous, so I was confident it would prevail.

Back at our table, Mama’s face brightened when she saw the sweet treats.

“Just what we need!’’ She clapped her hands. “Eating chocolate is much better than talking about Greg Tilton. What a disappointment. I still remember him, guns blazing against the bad guys, in the first Western I saw him do. What a hero he was.’’

“Acting, Mama,’’ Maddie said.

As I sat, my gaze returned to the raccoon. It had dropped the sandwich, without managing to peel free the wrapping. In fact, the animal’s behavior was strange. It tumbled from the bench seat, and then had trouble righting itself on the ground. The coon zigzagged toward the woods, like a drunk trying to follow a straight line at a DUI checkpoint.

“Mace?’’ Mama’s voice sliced through the air.

“Hmm?’’ I said, turning to her.

“Pay attention! Maddie and I asked which brownie you wanted. What is so darned interesting over there that you can’t answer your mama?’’

“The big brownie is mine.’’ I turned back toward the animal, now walking in circles. “There’s something wrong with that raccoon.’’

“It’s a pest; that’s what’s wrong with it,’’ Maddie grumbled. “I’m cutting this biggest brownie in half for Mama and me. I left you the second-biggest one.’’

The raccoon seemed dizzy, off-balance. As I got up for a closer look, convulsions started racking the poor thing’s body. Then it stiffened, and plopped over on its side. By the time I got there, the raccoon was dead.

Kneeling next to the
raccoon, I brushed at my eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Jesse stood over me. “You warned us over and over to stay away from them. You said they can carry disease. You called them beggars, no better than thieves.’’

“Yeah, I know what I said; but I think this raccoon was poisoned. None of God’s creatures should have to suffer like that.’’

“Poisoned?’’ Her eyes went wide.

I glanced over my shoulder at the bench. “We need to call the police over here to take a look at that sandwich. Meanwhile, we can’t let anybody get near enough to touch it, or take it.’’

I quietly asked her to sit at the table, so she could guard it from the curious, or maybe the nefarious. Before she went, Jesse pulled aside a production assistant. “You better let Barbara know about this.’’

The PA hurried off toward the production trailer.

Meanwhile, my sisters and Mama had joined me by the raccoon’s body. Murmurs moved in waves through the gathering crowd. I looked around, searching in vain for Tilton. In fact, I didn’t see any of the stars, aside from Jesse. Savannah had disappeared, too. If it was Tilton’s sandwich that killed the raccoon, I hoped he hadn’t eaten any. I didn’t like him, but I didn’t want him dead.

“What makes you think it was poison?’’ Mama asked.

“Remember when that pack of wild dogs got into the strychnine at our cousin Bubba’s?’’

“The Bubba in jail, or the other Bubba?’’ Maddie asked.

“The good Bubba.’’

“Right,’’ Marty said. “He had it for the ranch where he was working; for the rats.’’

I nodded. “This animal showed the same symptoms those dogs did.’’

We all redirected our gaze to the dead raccoon. It had vomited. A bit of white foam still clung to its mouth.

A breathless voice came from the edge of the crowd. “Barbara sent for the detective. She wants him to examine the raccoon.’’

I looked up to see the same production assistant. While I was glad Carlos was being summoned, I was surprised Barbara hadn’t come back with the PA. I fully expected her to push me out of the way so she could take over. Even if the dead raccoon would likely be the first raccoon she’d ever seen up close, Barbara didn’t seem like the type to miss a chance to be in charge.

Soon, a stir in the crowd signaled Carlos’s arrival. People moved aside to make way. He wore his authority like a suit of armor. Was his armor also to keep me out? His face was steel; not even a flicker of recognition when he saw me. I felt the chill like an icy wind. Mama and my sisters must have felt it, too.

“Mace is the one who noticed the raccoon acting like it was poisoned,’’ Marty told him.

“She’s made sure no one has come near it,’’ Maddie added.

“And she made Jesse stay over there with what’s left of the sandwich until the crime scene folks can come collect it and test it for what might have killed the coon,’’ Mama said.

He glanced toward Jesse. She sat at the table, faithfully guarding the sandwich. He gave me a curt nod, like I was a helpful stranger. “Everybody move back, please. This is police business. Just go back to whatever you were doing.’’

The crowd started to shuffle this way and that. Sal arrived, adding his voice as high-volume backup to Carlos’s order. “Dat means go, people. Move along. Nuttin’ to see here.’’

Sal physically pushed against some of the more reluctant looky-loos. Between his natural Bronx megaphone, and his broad chest, he was a one-man crowd deterrent. When Mama, my sisters, and I made no move to leave, Carlos focused those black lasers on me.

“You and your family go away, too. Please.’’ His voice was drained of emotion. “We need to clear this area.’’

I tried to fight the resentful remark making its way up my throat. I lost the battle.

“If I hadn’t noticed the way the raccoon died, you wouldn’t even know to suspect poison,’’ I said.

“Yes, your powers of observation are quite keen, when it comes to animals.’’

That didn’t sound like a thank-you to me.

Marty tugged at my arm. Sucking the Apricot Ice off her bottom lip, Mama regarded Carlos and me with worry in her eyes. Maddie said, “C’mon, honey. Let’s go back and finish our brownies. I saved the last cookie for you.’’

Carlos turned his back, dismissing me. He squatted down to examine the raccoon. I started away. “Thank you, Mace,’’ he said coolly.

“You’re welcome.’’ Relief flooded my body. I turned to him. “I figured it was best to keep people away from the raccoon and the sand …’’

“No,’’ he interrupted. “I meant thank you for leaving.’’

A knife twisted in my heart.

_____

I pushed my untouched cookie in a circle around a paper plate. My appetite was gone.

“Mace, don’t play with your food, honey. Someone else could still want that cookie, if you’d keep your dirty fingers off it.’’

I didn’t even snap at Mama to stop treating me like a six-year-old. When she got no rise out of me, Mama furrowed her brow at Maddie and Marty. “We have to fix things, girls. Mace and Carlos are meant to be together. They just happen to be the two most stubborn people on God’s green earth.’’

“You better take things into your own hands.’’ Maddie’s voice was soft. “You do not want Mama trying to fix things.’’

She tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. Such unaccustomed tenderness from my big sister made my eyes sting with tears.

“Oh, honey!’’ Marty offered me a tissue. “Swallow your pride and tell him you’re sorry about Jeb.’’

Running my knuckles under my eyes, I waved away Marty’s tissue. “No. There’s nothing between Jeb and me. I don’t have anything to be sorry for. Carlos is the one who should apologize to me, for being such an overly sensitive wuss.’’

Maddie gazed across the way at Carlos—his chest broad, his jaw firm, his black eyes smoldering with intensity as he considered where the dead raccoon fit into his puzzle. “You can call Carlos a lot of things, Mace, but no one in their right mind would ever use the word ‘wuss’ to describe that manly specimen.’’

Shaking her head, Mama rose from the table. She walked over to Sal, who was still doing crowd duty. Pointing toward me, she stood on tiptoes and whispered in his ear. Oh no, what was she cooking up?

As she returned, Sal dutifully did her bidding. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he approached Carlos. They had a short conversation, and then Sal looked at me with an expression that seemed pitying.

The big man shuffled back, looking like a child heading to the doctor for a shot. In his most blaring voice, he reported to us, and to anyone else within a fifty-yard radius, what Carlos had said.

“He said he’s too busy right now to worry about some on-again, off-again relationship. He’s got more important things on his mind, what with a murder investigation, a poisoned raccoon, and an army of Hollywood reporters breathing down his neck.’’

“That’s fine, Sal. Thank you.’’ Mama patted his hand, glancing nervously at me. “You can tell us the rest later.’’

Sal plowed ahead, a rookie officer undeterred from finishing his first verbal report. “Carlos said, and I quote: ‘Mace is going to have to get her head on straight without my help. I’m sick of trying to deal with a woman with the emotional maturity of a seventh grade girl.’’’

Sal looked at me. The expression
was
pitying, with a bit of apologetic thrown in.

“That part about the seventh grade was his words, not mine. Sorry, Mace.’’

I winced. The truth hurt.

“I’d say you’re at least as mature as a high school girl,’’ Marty said.

Maddie nodded loyally, and then narrowed her eyes to a spot over my shoulder. “What are
you
doing here?’’

I turned my head. I’d been so focused on what Sal was saying, I hadn’t noticed Jeb Ennis come up. How much had he heard?

“Howdy, Maddie.’’ He tipped his hat to my sister. “Always a pleasure. You know, that Carlos fellow must have left half his mind in Miamuh. He doesn’t know what he’s turning his back on.’’

I guess Jeb had heard enough.

“Any man in his right mind would be happy to have Mace, hang-ups and all.’’

As I sat there, surely blushing with embarrassment, Jeb put a hand on my shoulder. It seemed like a friendly gesture, but I could feel him caressing my skin through the fabric of my blouse. He looked at me, desire sparking in his blue eyes. The fire must have been catching, because I began to think along those same lines.

Maybe I needed something more simple than what I had with Carlos. What did I have with Carlos, anyway? Hadn’t he just dismissed me without a backward glance, and then disrespected me on top of that?

Jeb had some problems, no doubt about that. With him, though, all his hang-ups and shortcomings were out in the open. Jeb wasn’t complicated. He wasn’t moody. He wasn’t Carlos.

“I’ve got a cooler in my truck. What say you and me go grab a few beers and sit by a cow pond?’’ A devilish smile lit Jeb’s face. “I’ll even collect some rocks so you can toss ’em into the water.’’

Why not, I thought. Why the hell not?

Standing, I ignored Mama’s disapproving glare, Marty’s worried frown, and Maddie’s loud tsking. I didn’t even try to scoot away as Jeb tossed a casual arm around my shoulder.

As we left, I turned my head ever so slightly to steal a glance at Carlos. He seemed completely unaware of my presence … or absence. Instead, he glowered at the poor raccoon, as if he blamed it for being poisoned and complicating his homicide investigation.

Carlos was so intensely focused on the problem at hand, I doubted if he realized I was granting him his wish. I was walking out of his life.