“I’m the tennis instructor here,” Velvet said. “If you’d like a game, I can sign you up for one.”

  “If only I had time. If only I had time. What are you standing around for, Mary-Alice? Aren’t you planning to speak to Gary about what we discussed?”

  Todd bowed slightly. “I know when I’m dismissed. Ladies. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He started to walk away with Mary-Alice.

  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a bathing-suit-clad Lacy, sister of the girl who’d been taken to the hospital earlier, peeking out from behind a bush with eyes as round and wide as a beach ball.

  “Todd!” I called. “One minute, please.”

  He turned back to me, and I said, “Here’s someone I’d like you to meet.” I gestured to Lacy. She blinked at me, and I waved her forward. She stepped out from behind her tree. Her mouth opened. It closed again.

  “Hi,” Todd said.

  “This is Lacy,” I said. “She’s a big fan of yours, Todd.”

  “That’s nice to hear,” he said, huge toothy smile in place. “I hope you’re having a good vacation, Lacy.”

  “It’s—it’s. . . . the best vacation ever!”

  “This is a nice place, all right,” he said. “I’m heading back to the hotel now. Would you like to walk with us, Lacy?”

  She gasped and tripped over her own feet in the rush to fall into step beside him.

  I turned back to Velvet with a smile, but my smile died. I didn’t care for the way she was watching them go. Velvet had been my best friend since we were very young. I loved her dearly. I wanted her to be happy, and I genuinely wanted her to fall head over heels in love, if that was what would make her happy.

  But I didn’t trust Todd Thompson. I didn’t trust his all-American good looks, his ah-shucks charm. More than that, I worried that Velvet was falling in love as much with the idea of Hollywood than with Todd himself. And Hollywood was nothing but a fantasy. Still, she was an adult woman, and she’d make her mistakes without my interference.

  As I had made my own. Maybe I was concerned over nothing. My marriage had been such a disastrous mistake, I had to consider that I was overly worried about Velvet doing the same.

  I gave my head a shake and noticed Randy watching us—watching Velvet rather—from high in his lifeguard chair. His face, I thought, mirrored my own.

  “I’m going to the cocktail party tonight,” I said to my friend. “I need to present the calm face of the hotel to anyone who might be worried about sampling the canapés. You planning anything until the dancing starts?”

  Todd, Mary-Alice, and Lacy disappeared around a bend in the path, and Velvet remembered my existence. “Anything planned? No. I’m way behind on writing to my grandmother, and I’d better get a letter off to her before she sends the police to see if I’ve been kidnapped.”

  We walked along the lakefront path together. Paddleboats were coming in, and rowboats heading out for an evening fishing. From one of the cabins a woman called to her children that it was bath time, and in another someone was playing a radio far too loudly. A screen door slammed, and a girl screamed in mock terror.

  I hoped it was mock. But then another girl laughed, and the first one joined in.

  We reached the bend in the public footpath, where it divides in two. One direction heads away from the lake, going uphill and skirting the woods toward the last of the guest cabins and beyond that to my house and the staff quarters. Continuing straight, the path passes a sign marked staff only, through a line of trees and across a small, fast-moving rocky creek, to the service dock, boathouses, and equipment sheds.

  Something rustled in the undergrowth, and Winston burst through the trees, stubby tail wagging, ears standing up, a cluster of dead leaves and twigs caught in the fur under his belly.

  “Silly dog.” Velvet bent over and plucked the foliage off him. “Always into something. Do you think I could be an actress?” She spoke quickly and didn’t look at me.

  I hesitated and chose my words carefully. “I think you can be whatever you want to be, Velvet. Except maybe a professional football player, although even that wouldn’t surprise me if you put your mind to it. Are you, uh, thinking about it?”

  “I wanted to dance. You know that. But it didn’t work out. I . . .” She plucked the last twig off Winston, gave him a slap on his rear end, and straightened up. “Todd says I have the looks the camera loves.”

  “Has Todd asked you to come to Hollywood? With him, I mean?”

  “No, and he’ll only be here for a few more days. He . . . I think he likes me, Elizabeth. I like him.”

  “What does your heart say?”

  “My heart reminds me that California’s a long way away. That my parents and my grandmother are in New York. That you’re here, Elizabeth. You need me.”

  Did I need Velvet? The hotel didn’t need her. We could always get another outdoor activities director. Did I need her?

  Absolutely.

  “Promise me you won’t rush into anything,” I said. “Sometimes, when we act too hastily, we can make mistakes. Serious mistakes. Mistakes that cannot be undone.”

  She heard something in my voice and studied my face. “Are you trying to tell me something, Elizabeth?”

  I’d never told Velvet how unhappy I’d been in my short marriage, what a disaster it had been to fall in love with Ron Grady and get talked into a quick wedding. Perhaps I should. Perhaps my experience could be a warning to her about rushing into things. I took a deep breath, but the words died in my throat. “No. Just saying think it over carefully, and you’ll do the right thing.”

  Chapter 13

  I crept through the dark, empty business office into my own small office, switched on the overhead light, and shut the door. I peeked out the back window to ensure no one was lurking about, and then I called the switchboard and asked her to place a call for me. “This is private,” I said. “Do not listen in.” It was time, I’d decided, to find out what I could about the Hollywood people. One Hollywood person in particular.

  “Mrs. G.,” the operator sniffed, “I’m insulted you need to say that.”

  “Nevertheless, I’m saying it.”

  Plugs were attached, buttons pressed, the line hummed and cracked, and then a voice said, “New York Times.”

  “I’d like to leave a message for one of your reporters, please. Mr. Jim Westenham.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Can you ask him to contact Elizabeth Grady at Haggerman’s. He should have my number, but in case he doesn’t . . .” I rattled it off.

  She repeated it, assured me the message would be passed on, and we hung up.

  * * *

  * * *

  I went to the cocktail party.

  It had been less than twenty-four hours since Elias’s death, but most of the talk had died down, and I was pleased to see it. The death of a major Hollywood director was mighty big news, but nothing could compete with the news that Douglas Reightenham III, now Dr. Doug Reightenham, had invited the McPhersons’ youngest daughter, the one everyone said was pretty enough but would never get a husband with her attitude, for a turn around the lake in a paddleboat, whereupon he’d produced a ring with a giant diamond and asked for the honor of her hand, and the girl, rather than being suitably grateful, had leapt overboard—despite being fully dressed—and swum to shore. She’d shortly thereafter been seen surrounded by her suitcases, hailing a taxi to take her to the train station while her parents had alternately wept and railed at her and her elder sisters looked mighty pleased.

  Judy Rae, the singer, was ordering herself a sidecar at the bar.

  “That looks nice,” I said. “I’ll have one of those too.”

  When I had my drink in hand I joined Judy in a quiet corner. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how much I enjoyed your show last night.”

  She put her drink on a side table, took a cigarette out of her small evening bag, and lit it with a silver lighter. “Thank you. I heard Elias died not long after.” She picked up her glass and blew out a long plume of smoke. “That was very sudden.”

  She didn’t sound particularly broken up about it. I must have looked surprised because she grinned at me. “What, you expected me to say how sad I am?” She lifted her glass. “To Elias Theropodous. Too bad he didn’t shuffle off his mortal coil years ago.”

  My drink went down the wrong way. When I finished coughing, Judy said, “We had a history, Elias and I, and it wasn’t a good one. Not for me anyway, although I suspect he never gave me another thought. I’m not going to pretend I care one way or another if he lived or died. Although I’d prefer you don’t mention that. I’m aware the police have been poking around here today.”

  “Did Chief Dawson speak to you?”

  “No. Being the entertainment at a place like this is existing in a netherworld. I’m neither a guest nor an employee. Meaning neither and thus both, so I get all sides of everything. The staff are saying the police are concentrating their attention on the movie cast and crew. The guests are saying it was a mob hit. They seem to think Hollywood’s made up of nothing but the mob.” As she spoke, Judy’s hands moved constantly, lifting her cigarette to her scarlet lips, or taking a sip of her drink. Was she nervous? Hard to tell, as I’d never spoken to her before other than to welcome her when she arrived. “If not the mob, then communists. One thing I can say for Elias, he was most definitely not a communist.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. We’d had a red scare at Haggerman’s recently, and guests had threatened to check out. I didn’t need anyone bringing those rumors up again.

  “What happened?” I asked. “Between you and Elias, I mean?”

  She turned her head to one side to blow smoke away from me, but she kept her dark eyes fixed on mine. “I was young. I was talented. I was ambitious.” She struck a pose. Her deeply cut, formfitting dress showed off her wide hips and large bosom. “I was also substantially thinner than I am today. What I had, and still do, which you can’t say for a lot of them, was some degree of self-respect. My acting career ended before it had barely begun when I was fired from the first movie I’d been cast in. It was a mid-budget musical and Elias was the director. He fired me because I wouldn’t sleep with him.” She sipped her drink. “His loss. The movie didn’t exactly bomb, but it wasn’t the success it could have been. Hollywood’s loss, as I decided I was better off in New York pursuing a singing career. My gain. I get to sing in nice places like this.”

  “When was that?” I asked.

  “So long ago, I hardly remember. Fifteen years maybe. I won’t say it didn’t sting at the time. I genuinely thought all a woman needed in Hollywood was talent. That and looks maybe. I was wrong, and I was angry. But I got over it.”

  Had she? She’d been friendly enough to Elias last night, but she was—they all were—show business people. Running a big hotel is a lot like being in show business. I also have to keep up a cheerful appearance at all times. Nothing is ever wrong. The guests are never wrong. Nothing breaks that can’t be fixed instantly, and that includes peoples’ feelings.

  Judy, I remembered, had stopped at Elias’s table to chat between her sets. Meaning, she’d been near his drinks. It was no secret the movie people were coming to the show. She would have been able to be prepared.

  “Miss Rae, I’m such a big fan. Would you be so kind as to sign my napkin? I can’t wait to tell all the ladies at bridge that you sang for us.” A guest, thinning gray hair sprayed into a stiff helmet, diamonds around her throat and on her fingers, fringed dress twenty years out of date, thrust a hotel napkin and a pen toward the singer.

  “It would be my pleasure,” Judy said. “What’s your name, honey?”

  I left them to it and went to check out the buffet table. The wolves had descended the minute the offerings were brought out, but a few scraps remained. I scooped up a couple of celery sticks filled with bright orange Cheez Whiz. I was licking the gooey cheese off my fingers and wondering when, and if, I’d have a chance to get a proper dinner, when Jim Westenham came into the room.

  He looked around, spotted me above the heads of the people between us, and came my way. “Good evening, Elizabeth. May I say you look quite lovely tonight?”

  I was in my second-best evening attire, a sleeveless black dress with a full skirt, thin belt, and V-neckline. I smiled at him. “Thank you. What brings you here?”

  “You do.”

  “Me?”

  “You left a message at the paper?”

  “That was quick. I didn’t expect you to get back to me until tomorrow.”

  “You called moments before I checked in for the night. I knew you’d be busy, so I decided to come over rather than trying to track you down to come to the phone. You’ll be pleased to hear I was stopped at the gate and asked my business. They’re keeping reporters out, but I dropped your name liberally so the guard let me through. Helped that he remembered seeing me last time I was here. What’s up? Do you have news on Elias?”

  “No. It’s about something else. Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Never say no to that.”

  We went to the bar, and Jim ordered a scotch on the rocks. When he had his drink in hand we left the crowded, noisy room to talk in private. I leaned my back against the railing at the top of the grand staircase. Laugher and conversation swirled around us.

  “First,” he said, “I’ll fill you in on the press conference if you haven’t heard.”

  “I haven’t. Dare I hope Dave announced he’s arrested the killer and it had nothing to do with Haggerman’s?”

  “Nope. Sorry. It wasn’t particularly newsworthy. Not much we didn’t know. Some of the gentlemen and a lady of the press tried to get him speculating, but he stuck to the facts as he knows them. Suspected poisoning. No other reports of illness at the time concerned. Unlikely to have been deliberately consumed on the part of the deceased. Therefore . . .”

  “Therefore?”

  “What Dave called suspicious circumstances and the papers are calling murder. What I’m calling murder, Elizabeth. I filed my story, and that’s what I reported.”

  “Fair enough,” I said.

  “I can tell you something that wasn’t part of the press conference. Dave Dawson spent most of the day, along with hunting down suspects in the murder, trying to find out where the staties were.”

  “The state police? You mean they didn’t arrive? Where were they?”

  “No one knows. They say two detectives were dispatched, but they never showed up. Dave thinks they might have gone to the wrong town.”

  “Has the autopsy been done?”

  “Not yet. It’s scheduled for tomorrow. It’ll be a few days after that before Dave gets the analysis of the contents of the man’s stomach.”

  My Cheez Whiz rolled over.

  “The gentlemen and ladies of the press are still hanging around, hoping for further developments. There was a kerfuffle at Kennelwood this afternoon when Richard had to almost physically haul his father away to stop him from giving an ill-advised statement.”

  My face twisted. “Jerome didn’t try to blame Haggerman’s, did he?”

  “He was heading that way, but Richard intervened in time. Or so I’ve been told. I wasn’t there. As the representative of the New York Times, I’m not after the gossip. Just the facts.”

  I refrained from offering my opinion on that. I turned and leaned over the railing, looking at the lobby below us. Bellhops carried suitcases to the elevators as a handful of guests checked in. Other guests were gathering for a drink with friends before going in for dinner, the men in suits and ties, ladies in evening dresses. One of the outdoor-activities staff, flashlight in hand, whistle around neck, waited by the doors with a clipboard as children gathered around her for the guided nature walk in the evening woods.

  “Other than that,” Jim said, “I’ve nothing to report. If Dave has any leads he hasn’t told me about them. Why did you call me?”

  “Do you have contacts in Hollywood?”

  “One or two. Why do you ask?”

  “I feel almost embarrassed asking this, but . . . I mean, it’s none of my business, but . . . that is, I . . .”

  “You want to find out more about Todd Thompson.”

  I turned. “How did you know that?”

  “I’m a newspaperman. It’s my job to figure out what people aren’t saying. Todd Thompson has focused his substantial charm on Velvet. You don’t trust him.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I know you, Elizabeth. You don’t take anyone or anything on face value. Velvet’s your friend, and you’re concerned about her. Fair enough. I’ve done some reading on this bunch as part of putting together a story. Todd’s a rising star. Big things ahead of him, they say. As part of being a rising star, he gets his picture in the gossip magazines with one pretty starlet on his arm after another. His name’s never been linked with any one of them in particular. I can ask around. Find out if all that’s true. It often isn’t. The big studios own their actors, and that means they own the actor’s image. Todd plays roles as the all-American hero and general good guy. His image has to be kept squeaky clean. I won’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I do appreciate it.”

  “Can I take you to dinner?”

  “Thank you,” I said again. “But as I told you, I never eat in the dining room. I’m only here now in case any of the guests are feeling nervous about what happened last night, and my smiling face will reassure them all is well.” I bared my teeth and stretched my lips into a huge smile.