A Golden Cage by Shelley Freydont

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.”
    Now Deanna hesitated. How much could she tell without impeding Will’s investigation? He hadn’t said anything about keeping the information secret. Of course, it probably didn’t occur to him that she might run into Belle’s colleagues and friends.
    It certainly hadn’t occurred to her.
    â€œWhat did W—the police tell you?”
    The four actors frowned at her. Finally Rollie said, “Justthat Charlie was dead.” His voice wavered, and Talia slipped her hand into his. “And that they were looking for Belle,” he continued.
    â€œYou must forgive our emotions,” Noreen said.
    Deanna thought Noreen was controlling hers to perfection. But the others seemed genuinely moved.
They’re actors
, she reminded herself. But didn’t actors have to feel more emotions than ordinary people in order to portray them so well? Still, it wouldn’t do to drop her guard while around them.
    â€œLater that morning a parlor maid discovered Charlie. He was lying on the floor of the conservatory.” She watched her audience for the slightest hint of recognition. And got none.
    â€œHe’d been bludgeoned to death.” She shouldn’t 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. “He was a beautiful man,” 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. “And they think Belle beat him? With what? She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Charlie could have easily overpowered her.”
    â€œDid you tell this to the police?”
    â€œOf course not. We’re educated, sophisticated people, Miss Randolph. We understand more than most why the police look anywhere but the local elite for their miscreants. They’d happilyblame one of us for this—we’re outsiders, morally suspect, hated and feared and yet loved and idolized.
    â€œWe won’t be cooperating with them or making it easy in any way to accuse one of our own.”
    â€œOr with you,” Noreen added, frowning down at Deanna. “I ask you again. What’s your interest?”
    â€œI’m worried about her. The police don’t—as far as I know—suspect her of murder, but I am concerned for her safety. How do we know that whoever killed Charlie didn’t kill Belle or wants to and is looking for her as we speak?”
    â€œWait a minute,” Gil said, striding across the room and coming to stand over Deanna. “The police knew his name was Charlie, but if they came straight here from the scene, how did they know?” He narrowed his eyes at Deanna, and the affably, slightly roguish man became a predator. He turned away, then came back, leaning over her. “They 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?”
    Deanna shook her head. “But I recognized him from when we were backstage. He’d come to take her to dinner. She called him Charlie.”
    â€œCharlie. Charles Withrop,” Gil said.
    â€œAnd he was more than a friend,” Talia said. “He was her fiancé.”
    â€œTalia, that’s enough.” At last Noreen seemed to be losing her sangfroid.
    â€œNoreen, at least listen to what she has to say.” Rollie shot a hopeful look at Deanna. “If it can help catch Charlie’s murderer and find