Mama Sees Stars: A Mace Bauer Mystery (17 page)

Dew sparkled on the
pasture as if God had tossed out a diamond to adorn every blade of grass. Early morning light glinted off the water in the horse trough. At this time of day, the sun was as welcome as an old friend. By noon, I’d be cursing it as a fiery sweat-ball sent straight from hell by the devil.

As I neared the corral, the horses nickered a greeting. It wasn’t so much that they were ecstatic to see me, as it was the buckets of feed I carried. Still, I gave them a loud how-do whistle in return.

I was all alone this morning, which was fine by me. I’d exhausted my patience for family fun at last night’s pizza dinner. And if I never had to cater to another Hollywood type, I’d be a happy gal. I had a break on that front. Jesse’s next lesson wasn’t until the afternoon; and no horse scenes were planned for the morning.

Even though the animals weren’t needed for filming, they still needed to eat. So here I was: hefting hay and measuring out sweet feed and supplements for my equine charges.

A good-natured Appaloosa mare nosed my shirt collar as I tried to open the gate. A little pony banged its head against the slats of the fence, trying to reach into the feed bucket.

“Go on, get back, now!’’ I shouted. “Y’all better show me some manners, or nobody eats.’’

They knew my threats were hollow. Like Mama with her beloved Teensy, I was a soft touch for the big, pitiful eyes of begging horses.

When I was done distributing breakfast, I returned to the trailer with the empty buckets. I spent some time straightening tack and seeing what supplies were needed. When I came out, the horses had finished eating. They were shifting nervously around the corral. I stopped and closed my eyes, trying to hear what they heard: A crow cawed from a fence post. Cattle lowed in their pen across the pasture. The horses circled the enclosure. Their hooves striking the sandy ground made the sound of muffled clapping.

Then I heard a murmur of distant voices, human voices. Across the way, at the cow pen, I saw Kelly Conover and her mysterious protector, Sam. Her mouth was moving, and her palms were raised to the sky. Sam stood with his head bowed and his hands in his pockets, a short distance from Kelly. I couldn’t distinguish her words, but from her posture, it looked like she was praying. I’d certainly seen her utter a curse, and finish it off by spitting on the ground. I couldn’t believe she was now seeking an audience in the opposite spiritual realm.

Sam waited until she finished, and then he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. She rested her head for a moment against his chest, and then pushed away. When one of the horses gave a loud whinny, both of them looked over toward the corral.

They couldn’t have missed me, standing by the fence and gawking at them like I was at a carnival sideshow. I gave a half-hearted wave, and then turned my attention to the horses.

I hoped my lack of enthusiasm would signal I didn’t want company. But the idea she wasn’t wanted wasn’t likely to occur to a woman like Kelly. She started toward me across the field, Sam trailing at her heels like a faithful pet. I boosted myself up onto the fence’s top rail to await my audience with Hollywood royalty.

“Morning,’’ Kelly called cheerfully.

Sam offered a wave that was at least as heartfelt as mine.

“It’s Mace, right?’’

I nodded at Kelly.

“These horses are really beautiful. You do a great job taking care of them.’’ Kelly’s smile was brighter than the morning sun. I felt myself warming to her. “We’re lucky they hired you on as wrangler. Believe me, not everyone is as conscientious as you are about the job.’’

I knew I was grinning like an idiot. It turned out flattery from a mega-star worked just as well on me as it did on most other people. I tipped my cowgirl hat and scuffed at the rail below me with my boot heel, playing up my yokel’s role. “Aw, shucks, ma’am. Thanks!’’

A sly smile transformed Sam’s face—the first time I’d seen any expression aside from a frown of worry or concern. So it seemed there
was
a personality there, behind those studious eyeglasses and steadfast devotion to Kelly.

“I couldn’t help but notice you over there with your palms raised. I don’t mean to get personal, but were you praying?’’

I expected her to burst out laughing. Hollywood wasn’t exactly known for its godly devotion.

“That’s exactly what I was doing. Praying for forgiveness, in fact.’’

“Don’t look so shocked,’’ Sam said. “Not everyone in the movie industry is a godless heathen.’’

“I didn’t think they were,’’ I lied.

“Right,’’ Kelly said. “In fact, Sam was just about born in a pew. His dad was the pastor of a little storefront church.’’

“Part-time,’’ he said. “He worked full-time as an electrician. He always liked to say that the church fed souls, but it was electrical work that fed the family.’’

Kelly smiled at him. “Sam played the piano in their church.’’

“Badly,’’ he said. “But I enjoyed it. My father and I were close. We did everything together.’’

“Did he pass away?’’ I asked.

He nodded. “My senior year in high school.’’

“I lost my daddy, too,’’ I said. “I always wonder how life would have been different for us if he hadn’t died.’’

Sam regarded me with dark eyes, full of intelligence and compassion. I could understand why Kelly wanted him as a friend, even if she didn’t love him the way he so obviously loved her.

“I’m sorry about your father, Mace. Losing a parent stays with you your whole life, doesn’t it?’’

I nodded, grateful for the hat brim that kept my face in shadow.

“Well,” Kelly said, “I know one thing that’d be different. Sam probably wouldn’t be a Hollywood film editor if his dad had lived. Right, Sam?’’

From under my hat, I saw him nod.

“My father was convinced Hollywood was a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah. Some days, I think he had it right.’’ He chuckled. “Besides, I planned to work with my dad after high school. He even had the signs made up before he died: Dobbs and Son.’’

“Sam’s a brilliant editor.” Kelly beamed at him. “One of the best in the business. Most of his magic is created after the film is shot.’’

“So that’s why you haven’t been that busy on the set,’’ I said.

“Right. I come to locations when I can,’’ Sam said. “I like to watch out for Kelly.’’

“I don’t know what I’d do without Sam.’’ She patted his arm. “He’s my best friend.’’

Sam looked like he could listen to her brag on him all day. But I was curious about something else besides film editing and their one-sided relationship.

“You said you were praying for forgiveness, Kelly. What for, if you don’t mind me asking?’’

She raised those glorious green eyes to the sky. Her lovely face was open, guileless. She didn’t look like she minded at all the personal nature of my question.

“You know God sent his son to redeem our sins, right?’’

Her question made me think of all my Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings in church; of singing hymns and memorizing scripture. Maybe I didn’t spend as much time in the pew these days as Mama or Maddie did, but I still considered myself a believer.

I quoted John 3:16: “
For God so loved the world, he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
’’

Kelly’s eyes shone. “So you know then. I was asking forgiveness for damning Norman’s soul to hell.’’

“You mean when you spit on the ground.’’

She nodded. “Only God has the right to decide who is rewarded with eternal life, and who suffers the fires of hell.’’

Sam gave her arm an encouraging pat.

“I’m not big enough to forgive Norman for what he did to me, and to others. But I can ask God to help me get there; and to forgive me when I fall short.’’

Shortly after Kelly’s surprising revelation that she’d been saved, she and Sam said they had to go.

“Why don’t you come with us to breakfast?’’ she asked.

“Thanks for the invite.’’ I waved an arm at the horses in the corral. “I’ve still got lots of work to do, though.’’

So I wouldn’t feel like such an antisocial liar, I did get to work. As they left, I began brushing down the horses. By the time I got to the pony, Sam and Kelly had disappeared from sight.

Combing out the little guy’s mane, I stared into the empty pasture. Across the way, the cow pen caught my eye. That started me thinking about how Mama and I found Norman’s body on the fence. I thought of what Kelly had said about asking for God’s help.

All my life, I’d learned that God hears you no matter when or where you pray. I wondered what made Kelly traipse all the way out here to have her conversation with God.

Why did she want to stand in the same spot where Norman was murdered to seek forgiveness?

I know what you
did to my daughter
.

Omigod, I thought. Not again.

“That’s the way I think it sounds better, but my husband Sal likes it the other way. Mace says she can’t tell the difference, either way. Which way do you think has more emotional weight, Jesse?’’

Mama had cornered the young star outside her trailer. Jesse sat in a camp chair, a floppy sun hat protecting her fair skin. The brim was turned up, so she could watch Mama’s repeat—and repeat—performance. On the empty chair next to Jesse sat Mama’s library copy of
An Actor Prepares
, sticky notes marking several pages.

“Try it the first way again, Rosalee.’’ Holding a hunk of bread, she pointed at Mama, like a conductor signaling with a baton.

Now I was certain Jesse was on drugs. There was no way she could listen to one more rendition of Mama’s line without resorting to violence. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a stash of happy pills in the back pocket of my jeans.

I called out to Mama, and she whirled at the sound of my voice. “Honey! You’re just in time. I’m getting acting tips from the most talented, most beautiful young star in Hollywood.’’

She picked up her autograph book, hidden by the thick acting text, and waved it at me. “Jesse gave me her John Hancock, too. I’ll treasure it forever and ever.’’

Mama was really stirring it up.

“Sorry, Jesse,’’ I said. “You’ll have to forgive my mother, if she’s bothering you. She’s not used to being on a movie shoot. Her enthusiasm runs away with her manners sometimes.’’

Jesse winked at me. “No prob. I don’t mind at all. I expect to be coaching her next on how to accept her Academy Award.’’

“Speaking of coaching, are you still up for a horseback lesson later?’’ I asked.

“Don’t think so,’’ she said. “I broke down and confessed to Paul that I’m not a very good at the horse thing. He says we may not need me riding; just sitting in the saddle will do.’’

“Lucky,’’ I said.

“You know it. I’m a pretty good actor, but I don’t think I could sell having grown up galloping on horseback through the Florida wilds.’’

Mama shook her head. “I bet you could, honey. Jesse won an Oscar when she was just eleven years old, Mace. You were the youngest winner ever, weren’t you, honey?’’

Jesse absent-mindedly picked off pieces from the bread and tossed them on the ground. “Not quite,’’ she said. “Tatum O’Neal was younger.’’

“Oh, that’s right. I saw that on IMDb.’’

I looked blankly at Mama.

“Internet Movie Database, sweetheart. You really have a lot to learn about the Wide World of the Web.’’

While Mama crowed about all she’d learned on the ‘‘Wide World of the Web,’’ I was wondering how winning that prize affected Jesse. How do you live up to achieving that kind of success before you’ve even hit puberty? Maybe you’re so afraid of failing, you don’t even try.

A few mourning doves and a blue jay had discovered the crumbs. Jesse studied the birds as they edged closer to us. Suddenly, they startled and scattered. Mama’s face brightened at something over my shoulder. I turned to see Paul Watkins’s wife coming from around back of Jesse’s trailer.

“Yoo-hoo,’’ Mama sang out. “Over here, Savannah!’’

Jesse let out a sigh of what sounded like exasperation. But when I looked at her face, all I saw was a cool smile.

“What’s this?’’ Savannah’s drawl was music to my Southern ears. “Are y’all having a hen party without me?’’

“What the hell is a ‘hen party’?’’

“It’s an old-fashioned term from our generation, Jesse,’’ Mama explained. “Think of it as
Girls Gone Wild
, without the going wild.’’

“It’s not that old-fashioned.’’

Savannah sounded miffed, and Mama seemed to catch her tone. “I didn’t mean to say
we’re
old, honey.’’

Savannah arched a perfectly groomed brow. “Who’s this
we
, Kemo Sabe? I’m at least fifteen years younger than you are, Rosalee.’’

I saw on Mama’s face that she was weighing whether to argue that point. But since it would involve her having to state her own age, I knew she’d decide against it.

“Whatever you say, Sugar.’’

That “sugar’’ didn’t fool me. The temperature in the air between Mama and the normally sweet Savannah had just dropped by ten degrees. Maybe the director’s wife had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. Or, maybe she’d looked over to see Paul’s pillow hadn’t been slept on at all. Whatever, she was in some kind of mood.

Jesse smirked as she shredded more bread. The birds were returning, cautiously. “Wise decision not to challenge her, Rosalee. Savannah likes things her way.’’

“Yes, I do. Especially when my way is the right way.’’

“Oh, I forgot: Savannah is always right, too.’’

“About some things I am. Yes.’’

“About some things, oh yes!’’ Jesse cupped her hands under her chin and put on a mocking drawl.

Mama’s head swung back and forth between Savannah and Jesse like a one-eyed dog in a butcher shop. I probably looked the same way, trying to decipher what the two of them really meant behind the words they spoke. I caught Mama’s glance. She shrugged.

Savannah took a couple of steps toward Jesse. The star tossed the rest of her bread to the birds. “I have to go.’’

“Don’t, Jesse … Please.’’ Savannah reached a hand to the younger woman’s cheek; Jesse swatted it away.

“Don’t beg, Savannah. It’s so unattractive.’’

Getting up, Jesse folded the hat brim to shield her face from view. “I’m going inside. I need to rest, and I don’t want to be bothered.’’ The three of us watched as she flounced up the steps to her trailer.

“Thanks for the autograph,’’ Mama called after her. “Does that mean our rehearsal is over?’’

The door slammed shut behind Jesse. The birds took flight.

“Guess so,’’ I said to Mama.

“Well, that was rude,’’ she said.

“What did you expect?’’ Savannah snapped. “You had no right to bother Jesse with your stupid lines. She’s a big star.’’

Mama looked like she’d been slapped by one of her fellow teachers at Sunday School. Then she got peeved.

“For your information, Jesse offered to help me with my lines. And I don’t recall her getting all ticked off until
you
arrived on the scene.’’

Savannah stared at the door of the trailer. I thought I saw some movement behind the window blinds, but the door stayed firmly shut. Savannah marched up the steps and banged at it. Once. Twice. A third time. In between, she called out Jesse’s name, pleadingly. Not a sound came from inside. Finally, she gave up, backing down the steps. She didn’t say a word to us as she left, never even glancing our way.

“My goodness, who licked the red off of Savannah’s candy?’’ Mama asked.

I shrugged, keeping my eyes on Jesse’s trailer. “There’s no figuring out these Hollywood people, Mama. They’re like aliens from another planet. I’m not even sure they breathe oxygen.’’

Now, I was sure I detected the blinds move. A moment later, the door inched open. Jesse’s smooth cheek and upturned nose appeared around the edge.

“Is she gone?’’

Mama and I nodded.

“Thank God!’’ She came back out, clutching the sun hat to her breast, her red hair pulled back in a casual ponytail. She looked like the teen-aged girl she’d so recently been.

“What was that all about?’’ I asked.

“You don’t have to say, if it’s private,’’ Mama added. “We’re not gossips.’’

Well, I thought, at least one of us isn’t a gossip.

Jesse sighed. “I stopped caring about gossip a long time ago, Rosalee.’’

I didn’t believe that for an instant. Jesse, and the rest of this Hollywood pack, seemed to thrive on drama. And gossip was a big part of that. Still, I wanted to know what had just happened.

“Well, then?’’ Mama prodded.

“Savannah thinks she’s in love.’’

“With her husband?’’ Mama’s brows V-ed into a frown.

“Not even close.’’ Jesse winked at me.

Things were becoming clear, but Mama wasn’t seeing.

“How long?’’ I asked.

“Not long,’’ Jesse said. “We hooked up right before I got the part.’’

“Don’t tell me: Savannah helped influence her husband to hire you,’’ I said.

Another wink.

“Would one of you please tell me what’s going on?’’ Mama asked.

“Savannah’s in love with me, Rosalee.’’

I saw the satisfaction on Jesse’s face, as she watched Mama pick up her jaw from the ground. If shock was what she’d wanted, that was what she got.

“Buh … buh … but you’re both women,’’ Mama sputtered. “And Savannah is married!’’

Jesse waved the sun hat. “Your daughter and I already had this conversation about sexuality in Hollywood. It’s fluid, right Mace?’’

“What’s that supposed to mean?’’ Mama asked.

I wasn’t about to go there. Mama would start reciting Bible verses right and left.

“Hollywood is a different world, that’s for sure,’’ I said. “My attitude is you can live your life however you want, as long as no one gets hurt. Fact is, Savannah looked hurt to me.’’

Jesse shrugged. “Don’t be so sure about that. The reason I backed off wasn’t because Savannah is too old for me. It was because she’s crazy. Believe me, beneath that sugary Southern exterior beats a cold, vengeful heart.’’

With that, Jesse looked toward the sky. Clouds were rolling in, but there was still sunshine enough to give Jesse a bad burn. She stuck the hat back on her head, and settled herself again in her camp chair.

“Now,’’ she pointed at Mama. “Time to rehearse!’’

I hurried away, with the aspiring actress’s umpteenth line reading echoing in my ears.