“Do you know something about Estelle?” I asked.
“Why bother answering. No one believes me.”
“If your sister is still in town, I’m worried that she’ll harm someone.”
He exhaled cigarette smoke and stared at me as if he could assess my sincerity. “Daniel Martinez was looking for her last night while everyone was gone.”
“The security guy?”
“He has a crush on her. She stood him up for a date a few days ago, and he’s been going by her place, calling her cell phone, questioning her roommate.”
“And?”
“No one has seen her. The cell phone has gone dead.” Ricardo lit another cigarette, pretending to a nonchalance I saw through like smoked glass.
“Have you talked to Estelle?”
He shook his head. “Not for days. She was upset that Dad had her removed from the property.”
“She’s been in some of the secret passages, harassing me and others.”
One shoulder came up and dropped. “She’s angry, okay. But it isn’t like her to disappear.” He swallowed and finally looked at me. “I’m worried about her. Look, there’s someone in the house.” He dared me to interrupt him with a look. “Someone who doesn’t belong there. I heard something this morning…”
I didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “We’ve searched the secret passageways. We’ve searched all the rooms except for those on the third floor, and we’re going there when the filming is over for today. If someone is hiding in the house, we’ll find them.”
“I tried to follow the noises, but I couldn’t. No matter where I looked, there was no one.”
“Ricardo, if you’re messing with me, don’t. Someone hurt my friend last night. It was serious.”
Concern was quickly replaced with anger. “I knew you wouldn’t listen. No one does. Did you ever think that might be the reason Estelle is so mad? No one listens!” He crushed out his cigarette and stalked away.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
By the end of the day’s shooting, light had fled the sky, leaving bruised mango colors on the horizon. I was exhausted, and even Graf looked fatigued. Federico, a shade of bilious green, disappeared into the suite of rooms he shared with Jovan, who’d been resting most of the afternoon.
Tinkie was waiting for us in the kitchen with a pitcher of homemade lemonade and glasses filled with ice. It had been a long time since I’d tasted something that good. It was the perfect blend of tart and sweet, and it took me back to long-ago summer days when my mother would pack a hamper with sandwiches and lemonade and take me to one of the small amber creeks that fed the Tallahatchie River.
These were times my mother earmarked just for us-girl time. And she would talk of her love of the land and my father and her dreams for me to be successful and happy at whatever I chose. Jitty had said my folks were proud of me. I so hoped she was correct.
I put the past aside, and Tinkie, Graf, and I took our drinks outside to the patio where we were relatively sure no one could overhear us.
Tinkie’s face was aglow. Not even the goose egg at her hairline could detract from her joy. “I spoke with the veterinarian, and he said I could get Chablis in a day or so.” Tinkie played with the swirl of lemon peel decorating her glass and a shadow fell over her features. “He said if we hadn’t acted so quickly, she would have died.”
“But she’ll be good as new, right?” I asked. “No permanent side effects?” Chablis could not be crippled.
Tinkie sighed. “He’s almost positive. But he’s cautious.”
“Chablis is tough,” Graf said. “She’ll heal.”
“I want to go home.” Tinkie blinked back her tears. “I take Oscar for granted sometimes, but I realize how much I rely on him. He’s irascible and self-involved, but he’s also there when I need to lean on him, and I’ve got to say, I’m feeling like letting him play the big, strong he-man.”
“That’s what the best relationships are about-you rely on each other,” Graf said softly. He reached across the table and picked up my hand. “I know you miss Oscar. As soon as Chablis can travel, we’ll get you a flight home.”
“But that’s like abandoning Sarah Booth with this criminal stalking the film crew.” Tinkie put her hand over ours and squeezed. “I may be short, but I’m generally the one who saves Sarah Booth’s behind.”
“True,” I easily agreed. “She’s arrived in the nick of time more than once. If it weren’t for Tinkie and Sweetie, I’d be dead. But on this case, which I might point out isn’t really a case since no one is paying us, I think the film is the target.”
Tinkie swirled her drink. “I’m not in the film, but I was still hurt. If we could find Estelle, I’d feel a lot better.”
And so would I, but Tinkie needed to go home as soon as she could. She didn’t need to hang around, worrying about a young woman who might or might not be in trouble.
“I have some news,” Graf said. “Federico said something today about wrapping the filming here tomorrow. He’s ready to head back to L.A.”
That was news to me, and I must have looked shocked.
“He was planning on filming some of the other interior scenes around here, but he says he can do it as well on one of the studio lots. He wants to leave. This whole thing with Estelle so angry and Jovan getting injured-it’s taken a toll on him.” Graf drained his glass.
The idea of going back to California should have excited me, but it didn’t. There were still questions unanswered about this house and what was going on. “I didn’t expect to leave so quickly.” The truth was, the sooner everyone was out of that house, the better. Still, I found myself reluctant to go.
Graf stood up and stretched. “I want to visit Chablis.” He checked his watch. “The clinic is open late this evening. Tinkie, what about a trip to cheer the patient?”
“Wild horses couldn’t stop me.” She jumped to her feet. They both turned to me.
“You two go ahead. I want to talk to Ricardo again.”
Graf put his hands on my shoulders. “Are you sure you want to stay here alone?”
“I’m not alone. Federico and Jovan are here. The security guards are outside. I saw Daniel Martinez walking toward the gate not half an hour ago. I think Ricardo may open up to me if I’m alone.”
“Good luck,” Tinkie said. “He’s like a split personality. All charming one minute, and then all surly and rude the next. At the best of times, he’s not the most forthcoming person I’ve ever met.”
“That’s why I want to talk to him. He sounded genuinely upset earlier. He said no one ever listened to him or Estelle. I want to give it a try. If he’s got something to say, I want to hear it.”
Graf came up behind me and pulled me against his chest. “Be careful. Take Sweetie with you wherever you go.”
“That’s a promise.”
Graf leaned around to kiss me, a warm kiss that was fiery and tender. “That’s my girl,” he said.
“Give Chablis a kiss for me. When you get back, we’ll have some dinner.” As much as I wanted to see the little dustmop, I needed to talk to Ricardo. Alone. He was sulky, charming, angry, uninterested. His emotional range made me wonder about several things, including drug use.
I walked Graf and Tinkie to the front door, then turned back to knock at Federico’s room. No one answered and I pounded louder. My heart rate did triple time as the possibilities of what could have happened zipped through my brain. I was about to put my shoulder to the door when Jovan opened it a crack.
“Federico is asleep,” she said softly.
“Sorry.” It looked as if I’d awakened her. “Are you feeling better?”
“A little. I think we’ll all feel better once we’re back in the States.”
I couldn’t argue that, so I excused myself and went to look for Ricardo. Sweetie padded along with me as I walked through the west wing of the mansion. Portraits hung on the wall, most of them bearing some family resemblance to the painting of Carlita in my room. There were oil paintings of my mother’s and my father’s family throughout Dahlia House, but I’d never had my portrait painted.