a little about dime novels and what it was like to be an actress, and then my maid took her down to the guest room. It was nearly light by then.â
Now Deanna hesitated. How much could she tell without impeding Willâs investigation? He hadnât said anything about keeping the information secret. Of course, it probably didnât occur to him that she might run into Belleâs colleagues and friends.
It certainly hadnât occurred to her.
âWhat did Wâthe police tell you?â
The four actors frowned at her. Finally Rollie said, âJustthat Charlie was dead.â His voice wavered, and Talia slipped her hand into his. âAnd that they were looking for Belle,â he continued.
âYou must forgive our emotions,â Noreen said.
Deanna thought Noreen was controlling hers to perfection. But the others seemed genuinely moved.
Theyâre actors
, she reminded herself. But didnât actors have to feel more emotions than ordinary people in order to portray them so well? Still, it wouldnât do to drop her guard while around them.
âLater that morning a parlor maid discovered Charlie. He was lying on the floor of the conservatory.â She watched her audience for the slightest hint of recognition. And got none.
âHeâd been bludgeoned to death.â She shouldnât have said it. She knew better than to divulge the details of a case and take the chance of tipping off the perpetrator, but she also knew the value of shock tactics. And her announcement certainly had shocked them.
Talia gasped a cry, Rollie covered his face with his hands, Gil turned to look out the window. Only Noreen stood unmoved, except that her face had drained of color, leaving her makeup looking like slashes of paint. âHe was a beautiful man,â she said quietly.
Was.
Only now he was barely recognizable as the handsome, laughing young man who had taken Belle to dinner.
Gil turned from the window. âAnd they think Belle beat him? With what? She wouldnât. She couldnât. Charlie could have easily overpowered her.â
âDid you tell this to the police?â
âOf course not. Weâre educated, sophisticated people, Miss Randolph. We understand more than most why the police look anywhere but the local elite for their miscreants. Theyâd happilyblame one of us for thisâweâre outsiders, morally suspect, hated and feared and yet loved and idolized.
âWe wonât be cooperating with them or making it easy in any way to accuse one of our own.â
âOr with you,â Noreen added, frowning down at Deanna. âI ask you again. Whatâs your interest?â
âIâm worried about her. The police donâtâas far as I knowâsuspect her of murder, but I am concerned for her safety. How do we know that whoever killed Charlie didnât kill Belle or wants to and is looking for her as we speak?â
âWait a minute,â Gil said, striding across the room and coming to stand over Deanna. âThe police knew his name was Charlie, but if they came straight here from the scene, how did they know?â He narrowed his eyes at Deanna, and the affably, slightly roguish man became a predator. He turned away, then came back, leaning over her. âThey must have learned it from you. How did you know his name was Charlie if you just met Belle last night? Did she tell you about him?â
Deanna shook her head. âBut I recognized him from when we were backstage. Heâd come to take her to dinner. She called him Charlie.â
âCharlie. Charles Withrop,â Gil said.
âAnd he was more than a friend,â Talia said. âHe was her fiancé.â
âTalia, thatâs enough.â At last Noreen seemed to be losing her sangfroid.
âNoreen, at least listen to what she has to say.â Rollie shot a hopeful look at Deanna. âIf it can help catch Charlieâs murderer and find
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham