Shooting for the Stars by R. G. Belsky

stages.”
    â€œYou know, I’m still having a hard time figuring out exactly what it is you do,” I said.
    He smiled. “So what do you want to know about Laura?”
    Holloway gave me the same version of the story that her mother had. The sanitized one. Laura was a beautiful person. Laura was so happy. Laura was a saint. Laura had so much to look forward to. Nothing about drugs or depression or any imperfections in the little fairytale world they’d created about her.
    â€œHow did you meet her?” I asked.
    â€œShe hit me.”
    â€œShe hit you?”
    He laughed. “I know it sounds kind of strange, but that’s what happened. I was crossing the street on Rodeo Drive in Los Angeles when a car hit me. I was knocked to the ground, but not really hurt. When I looked up, the driver was standing over me. It was Laura Marlowe. I thought I was dreaming. Once she knew I was all right, she was so grateful she offered to buy me lunch. I guess it was just fate, because we really hit it off—and, of course, we fell in love.”
    â€œHow long after that were you married?”
    â€œVery soon.”
    â€œWere you happy together?”
    â€œDeliriously so.”
    Laura Marlowe didn’t sound too happy to me at the end, but I didn’t say anything.
    â€œWe had such wonderful plans together,” he said, his eyes tearing up now. “For her career, for a family, for a real life outside Hollywood. But she never got the chance. That bastard—whoever it was, Ray Janson or someone else—killed her. For me, it was like the JFK assassination. Those few seconds changed history and changed me forever. I’ve had a lot of good things happen to me since then, but I’d trade them all to spend just a few seconds with Laura again. She was so special. But she was gone so quickly. And nothing can ever change that now.”
    I asked him about the shooting. He gave me an account thatwas similar to the one I’d read in the police report. “I’d left the party and gone back to the hotel to look for Laura,” he said. “I just got out of my cab when I heard the gunshot and saw Laura lying on the ground. Someone—I always assumed it was Janson, but I never got a good look at the face—was standing over her with a gun in their hand, then ran away. I went to Laura’s side, and held her and tried to comfort her until the ambulance arrived. She couldn’t speak, she just looked up at me with these sad eyes. She died shortly afterward.”
    I checked my notes from the interview with the mother to see if there was anything else I needed to ask him.
    â€œDid you know Laura’s father?” I asked.
    He made a face. “Yes, I sure did.”
    â€œYou didn’t like him?”
    â€œHe abandoned Laura when she was just a little girl. Ran off and left her and Beverly on their own. Then he shows up after she becomes a big star and tries to act like he’s her father again. Trying to get his hands on some of her money, I’m sure.”
    â€œWhat did Laura say about him?”
    â€œShe never talked to me about her father. I guess it was too painful. He apparently did things to her when she was a child. Things that, well . . . bad things. Maybe she still remembered them, maybe they were in her subconscious somewhere. That guy was bad news.”
    â€œSo why was he still in her life at the end? Even at the hospital on the night Laura died?”
    Holloway looked pained. “That was such a terrible night. Beverly wasn’t there and I was . . . well, I don’t remember a lot. I was pretty shaken up by what happened. But when Beverly came back, she made sure Valentine was out of the picture for good.”
    â€œIs he still alive?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œGot any idea where I might go looking for him?”
    Holloway suddenly realized where I was headed with this.
    â€œMy God, do you think