“What’s wrong?” I looked down at the dress. As far as I could tell it was perfect.
“What happened to your arm?” She looked across the room. “Sally, can you come over here. We’ll need some makeup to cover these marks.”
I looked into the mirror she indicated and saw the deep bluish-purple bruises just above my left elbow where Estelle had grabbed me. She wasn’t a ghost. She was flesh and bones and dangerous.
“Who did that?” Dallas asked.
I shook my head. I wasn’t about to say Federico’s daughter. He had his hands full with her already.
“This place gives me the creeps.” Dallas was suddenly unhappy. When Sally came up and began mumbling over the bruises, Dallas flopped onto a stool. “I’ve heard this house is haunted.”
I tried not to react. Sally was brushing a concealing powder onto my arm.
“Posh!” Sally said. “Don’t start that crap, Dallas.”
“I didn’t start it. Kyle, the cinematographer, told me this morning that someone had tampered with the cameras last night. He fixed them before shooting this morning. He said there was talk of seeing a ghost in the house.”
They both looked at me. “Whose ghost?” I asked, playing it innocent.
“Most likely Carlita’s ghost. There’s talk that she didn’t commit suicide.” Dallas leaned forward. “I’ve heard rumors that she was murdered. That’s why she haunts this place. She can’t rest until the person who killed her pays.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dusk had swallowed us in a warm mango glow by the time we finished filming for the day. While the end result of our labors might look glamorous, I was learning that shooting a movie was grueling work.
Anticipation of the arrival of Tinkie, Cece, and Millie had me to the point that I couldn’t rest, though my body warned that I needed some shut-eye.
“Sarah Booth, why don’t you try to relax?” Graf asked. “I’ll make you something cool and delicious and you can rest until your friends get here. I’ll even go to the airport and retrieve them.”
I wondered where Graf kept his suit with the cape and the big “S” on the chest. “Will you really fetch them for me?”
“My pleasure. I owe them a lot. They helped me when I was in Zinnia.”
If I had matured in the months that Graf and I were apart, he’d had a major growth spurt. This wasn’t the same man I’d shared my bed with in New York. This was a conscious man, one who could put my needs ahead of his own.
“I’ll make this up to you.”
He shook his head. “This is nothing, Sarah Booth. I don’t understand why I never got this until now. Maybe I’ve never truly loved anyone before. Now it’s all so clear and simple. I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy.”
I felt a lump in my throat. “I’m not sure I deserve this.”
“It isn’t up to you to decide. This is my choice.” He kissed my forehead. “Now take a hot shower and crawl in bed. I’ll make you a Fuzzy Navel, lots of fresh orange juice and vitamins and a dollop of vodka to ease the tension. Then I’ll dash to the airport. I should be back by dinnertime. We can all go out.”
I started to make a smart-ass remark, but instead I kissed him. A good, solid smack that took his breath away. And then I left him standing at the front door while I went upstairs to follow his prescription for rest.
Federico had generously made two rooms available for my buddies, and I checked to be sure they were ready before I stepped under the stinging spray of a hot shower. The water was marvelous, pounding on my shoulders and melting away the tightness. I was wrapped in plush towels and sitting at the dressing table when Graf brought the drink. He’d squeezed the oranges himself.
“Drink this and I’ll be back as quickly as possible,” he said.
“Yassa, boss man.”
“If you want to play roles, I can think of more interesting ones,” he whispered in my ear.
He left while the pink still tinted my cheeks.
I sipped the drink and wandered around the room, examining the portrait of Carlita Marquez. She’d been incredibly beautiful, if a bit too thin. The version of her death I’d heard was overdose of prescription medication- ruled accidental due to Federico’s influence, no doubt.
It would be interesting to talk to Millie about this. She was like a research database when it came to movie stars and celebrities. She knew things that no one else could possibly remember.
Though I stretched out on the bed, I couldn’t rest. I was anxious. The day had been hard, but the good news was that, despite the lost hours from Joey’s accident Federico had shot more usable footage than he’d anticipated. Minimal retakes meant we were ahead of schedule, and he was thrilled at the way things were going.
After twenty minutes of twisting and turning, I gave up trying to rest, slipped into my favorite black jeans and some walking shoes, and decided to explore the Pacific beach.
The sun had set, but the sky was still warm with light as I made my way along the half mile down to the shore. Venus had risen in the western sky, and soon the moon would lift out of the Pacific. Waves crashed against the shore, and I noticed a huge outcropping of rock that created a magnificent display of foam and spray as the waves crashed over it.
I removed my shoes and walked along the warm sand playing tag with the surf like a child. This was exactly what I needed. The tight knot of muscles let go as I inhaled the salt breeze and remembered the joy of being young and unencumbered.
By the time I turned back to the mansion, I was renewed and eager to see my friends. I was also ravenous. I hurried, wanting to slip into something cooler than jeans before Graf arrived with Tink and the crew.
The path that led to the mansion approached from the west, the side of the house where my room was located. I could see my balcony as I climbed the winding path that clung to the incline in a series of wooden steps and steep dirt.
From this view, the house was lovely. Many of the rooms were illuminated, and it looked like a palace waiting for a party. The wind chimes showered the night with music.
As I approached, I froze. Someone was standing on my balcony.
I eased closer, moving through the palm fronds and the small trees that contained heavenly night blossoms. When I had a clear view, I stopped. A slender, dark-haired woman gazed out toward the water. Something about her made me think that she had done this many times.
Night had fallen, and though the moon was full, I couldn’t see clearly. Her features were indistinct. It could easily be Estelle. She was the same size and build, with the same flowing black hair. But I couldn’t be certain.
I’d locked my door when I left, but that meant nothing in a house where the daughter would surely have keys to all the rooms.
“Hey!” I called out. “Hey, you!”
Either the figure didn’t hear me or she ignored me. She continued to gaze out toward the ocean, as if she waited for some signal.
“Hey!” I yelled louder and jumped up and down, waving my arms. “What are you doing in my room?”
I was about to run the rest of the way to the house when I felt a firm grip on my arm. I turned to see one of the burly security guards eyeing me with suspicion.
“That woman is standing on the balcony outside my room.” I pointed to the second floor, and we both looked.
The balcony was empty.
“Shall I help you into the house?” the guard asked in perfect English with a Spanish accent. I recognized him from the night before. He was the same man who’d been outside the front door when I’d seen the woman leave. He’d also claimed that the door hadn’t opened.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Daniel Martinez,” he said. “The owner of Promise Security Agency, at your service.” He almost gave a
