“Tomorrow I’ll see what I can find out. Let’s give it a rest until then.”
“Until the morning.” He kissed both of my cheeks. “And have a safe trip home, Ms. Falcon. It’s been a pleasure having you here.”
“Thank you, Mr. Marquez. It’s going to be a bang-up movie.”
He left and I looked at Cece, who rolled her eyes. “Daddy doesn’t want to believe his little darling is a murderer.”
“When you get to the airport, can you check to see if Estelle actually boarded a plane today?”
“Sure. I don’t think Costa Rica has the security issues we have in the States. Should be a piece of cake.”
“Thank you, Cece. You’re a good friend.”
“Sarah Booth, you’re going to be a huge star. I’m only doing this so you’ll owe me.”
I gave her a big hug and hurried to my room. Graf was waiting for me. Even though someone had tried to kill me, I was still a lucky woman.
To my bitter disappointment, the next morning when Robert Redford arrived, I was working. I caught a glimpse of him and Millie walking in the gardens. By the time I was due a break, Robert was gone and Millie and Cece were packed. Federico had assigned one of the security guards to drive them to be sure nothing happened on the way.
I kissed and hugged and held back the tears that would wash away all of Sally’s artful work. When the car pulled out of the driveway, Sweetie sat at my feet and howled mournfully. “We’ll see them soon,” I promised her. I was ready for a trip back to Zinnia. I was homesick.
When I finished my scenes, I picked up the keys to one of the rental cars and drove into Petaluma. It wasn’t far, and I could have walked, but I wasn’t certain where Estelle and Regena’s apartment might be, and I didn’t have time to walk if it was a distance away.
I checked a local phone book and found a listing for Regena Lombardi. There was none for Estelle. I rang the number and was surprised when a young woman answered. My Spanish was nonexistent, so I prayed Regena spoke English.
And she did-very well in fact. In less than thirty seconds she’d agreed to meet with me.
The apartment complex was lovely, sort of a 1950s Hollywood set where aspiring starlets might rent. Regena’s apartment was 2B, and I knocked on the mahogany door, wondering how this interview was going to go.
The young woman who answered the door was petite, with hair colored a plum shade and a nose ring. She wore a leotard and leg warmers and was barefoot.
“I’m Sarah Booth Delaney,” I said, trying hard to read her face, but she gave nothing away.
“I’m due to dance rehearsals in twenty minutes. It’s a big opportunity for me.”
“I’ll be brief.” I slipped inside before she could block me at the door. “Are you sure Estelle has gone to Los Angeles?” I asked as I took in the decor. Low-rent college kid furnishings were mixed with some expensive furniture and art.
“She said she was going, and yesterday morning she was gone.”
“Did she take her things?”
Regena shrugged. “Estelle has things here, in Malibu, and in Europe. She doesn’t have to carry things. They’re there waiting for her when she arrives.” There was no bitterness in Regena’s tone.
“What kind of person is Estelle?”
She sank into a beanbag chair-an artifact from the seventies, I suspected. “She’s very kind. She helps people when she can.”
“And she hates her father.”
She looked away, a telling gesture. “Federico was never there for her. After she turned ten, she was shipped off to boarding schools. Whenever she wanted to come home, he told her no. She wasn’t even allowed to visit her mother when she was dying. How would that make you feel?”
“Pretty shitty, I’m sure.”
“Her dad doesn’t care about anything but himself and his movies. He even had Estelle thrown out of her house.”
I thought of Federico’s face as he tried to assure me Estelle couldn’t be involved in the attack on me. “That isn’t true, Regena. He’s devoted to his work, but he cares about Estelle. He’s worried about her right now.”
“She doesn’t think so.”
And therein lay the rub. Perception was everything.
“Has Estelle been in Petaluma long?” I was curious to discover if she was in Malibu when Suzy was killed.
“She’s been gone for a couple of weeks, and she came in the night before you guys arrived. She travels a lot.” She went to the kitchen and returned with two bottles of water and handed me one. “She was in a state. She talked about booby-trapping the house. She said she asked her father not to film there, out of respect for Carlita. He just ignored her. The film was everything. Estelle’s feelings didn’t matter at all.”
I sipped the water. “Has Estelle ever mentioned that her mother’s ghost is in the house?”
Regena gave me a look that left no doubt she thought I was nuts. “Look, Estelle is angry, not insane.”
“She’s never spoken of a ghost or spirit in the house?”
She laughed. “Not to me. But it sounds like a good way to run off a bunch of unwanted company.”
“You’ve never heard ghost stories about the house?” That was peculiar. Daniel Martinez, the security guy, had mentioned the ghost stories as if everyone in town knew them.
She shrugged. “Any old house that sits empty is going to get a reputation in a small town. Petaluma isn’t a big city. Kids used to go out there to park, until a couple of them got spooked away.”
This was interesting, but impossible to track down. “Do you remember any of the stories?”
The blush that touched her cheeks was unexpected. “I was there one summer evening with a guy I used to date, swimming in the cove. I thought I saw a woman in a red dress on the balcony.”
My gut tightened and my skin began to crawl. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did your date see her?”
She bit her bottom lip. “No. He thought I was making it up to avoid, you know. He got mad because I insisted that we leave. Anyway, there were a couple of people who saw something like that.”
“No one ever investigated?”
“Nope.” She walked to the door. “Now I have to go. I can’t be late or they’ll cut me from the rehearsals.”
I followed her out the door. “Thank you, Regena.”
“When you finally track Estelle down, ask her to call me, please. I’ve left twenty messages and she hasn’t returned my calls. Sometimes she gets depressed and just sort of fades. That worries me and I have some things we need to talk about.”
“Will do.” I kept it perky and upbeat, but the talk about depression concerned me, too.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Another day in paradise was concluding, and I returned to the mansion with a mental list of people to talk to. Ricardo was right at the top, but I wanted to catch him away from his dad.
Tinkie, Chablis, and Sweetie were at the beach. I walked to the edge of the gardens and looked down to see her and the dogs scurrying around castle rock. It took me a moment to realize that the slick body in the surf wasn’t a dolphin-Graf was in scuba gear examining the portions of the rock that were underwater.
They were looking for clues. My heart surged with warmth. Graf really seemed to care about me. And Tinkie, well, she was the best friend ever.
We were an odd couple for a business team. When I’d first come home, licking my wounds and in dire financial circumstances, I’d failed to see past the Daddy’s Girl exterior that Tinkie projected.
I’d sold her short.
But she was far more than her five-carat engagement ring, her banker husband, and her Dun & Bradstreet report. Tinkie, for all of her slavish devotion to glamour and fashion, was smart. And loyal. And caring.
Watching her and Graf and the dogs, I again thanked whatever lucky stars had brought her into my life. I’d lost a lot, but I’d also gained.