Time of Death. BEVERLY BARTON

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СКАЧАТЬ with her female costars. Not hateful to us or condescending. She mostly ignored us. What I do remember is that she looked like a Barbie doll, all plastic perfection. And at the time, rumor had it that she and Travis Dillard were having a hot affair.”

      “And Travis Dillard was the producer, right?”

      “Uh-huh. The producer of Midnight Masquerade and quite a few other porno movies. And he was also an agent for numerous wannabe stars, most of whom wound up in his movies. Me included.”

      “Dillard was your agent?”

      “That’s right.”

      “How well did you know him?”

      “Well enough not to like him or trust him,” Lorie said. “But I learned that lesson the hard way.”

      “I hate to ask this, but did you ever have a sexual relationship with Dillard?”

      “No, but not for his lack of trying. He had a reputation for having laid every single one of his female clients. I figure that sooner or later, he would’ve cut me loose if I hadn’t put out, but at the time, I was living with his major star—Dean Wilson—and he didn’t want to do anything to antagonize Dean.”

      “You and Dean Wilson lived together?”

      “Yes. For nearly a year. I thought I loved him and I believed he loved me. It was one of the most miserable years of my life. I finally realized that my big dreams of fame and fortune would never come true. I was living in a seedy apartment with a guy who was addicted to drugs and alcohol and who had introduced me to a life I hated. Dean’s the one who talked me into doing a bit part in Midnight Masquerade.”

      “When was the last time you saw Dean Wilson?” Derek’s question momentarily startled her.

      Lorie’s gaze connected with Derek’s and she saw only kindness and compassion in his dark brown eyes. “Nine years ago when I left LA to come back home to Dunmore. He followed me to the bus station and tried to stop me from leaving. He actually threatened me.”

      “But he didn’t follow through with his threats, did he?” Derek asked.

      “No, he didn’t.”

      “And you never saw him again?” Maleah asked. “Or heard from him? No phone calls? Letters? E-mails?”

      “No. We had no communication whatsoever. Not since the day I left him and that god-awful life behind me.”

      “Have you seen or heard from anyone connected to the movie since your return to Dunmore?” Derek set his empty glass on the sharp-edged 1940s-era coffee table, the top shining with a high-gloss black lacquer finish.

      “No,” Lorie replied. “But other than Dean, I really didn’t know anyone else. We were just acquaintances, not friends.”

      “Did you have a problem with anyone, other than Travis Dillard?” Derek inquired.

      “By problem, do you mean did any of the other men hit on me?”

      “That, or did you know if any of the women didn’t especially like you or didn’t like one another?”

      “Grant Leroy, the director, propositioned me, but didn’t seem offended when I turned him down. I think he and Terri Owens, aka Candy Ruff, wound up having a short-lived affair. And several of the other guys made passes at me, but that’s as far as it went.

      “Like I said, Hilary Finch pretty much ignored all her female costars. The rest of us got along okay. Outside of work, I seldom saw any of them.”

      “Why don’t you keep the list,” Maleah said. “Think about what went on during the filming of that particular movie and if anything, even something you think is insignificant, comes to mind, let me know.”

      “Let us know,” Derek added.

      Maleah shot him an are-you-still-here? glare and then turned back to Lorie. “You look beat. Why don’t you go on up to bed?”

      “I don’t want to leave you with the dirty dishes and pots and pans.”

      “Go on,” Derek told her. “I’ll help Perdue clean up the kitchen.”

      Maleah groaned, making her displeasure known to anyone within earshot.

      Charles Wong roused slowly, at first uncertain what had awakened him. And then the doorbell rang again and again, loud enough to be heard over the racket coming from the television. Someone was at his front door. But who the hell could it be? He glanced around the room and realized that he had fallen asleep in the living room, on the sofa, while watching the late-night newscast. With Lily and the girls gone on the overnight Brownies camping trip, he had snacked for supper, then fixed himself a bowl of popcorn and settled in to watch TV. He missed his wife and stepdaughters. Being with them reminded him of how lucky he was and that working at being a better human every day had its rewards.

      The doorbell kept ringing.

      “All right, I’m coming,” he called loudly. “Be right there.”

      Barefoot and wearing a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants and a T-shirt, he got up, glanced at the time on the DVD player—11:52—and padded across the room. When he reached the front door, he paused before opening it.

      “Yeah, who’s there?” he asked.

      “Hey, man, it’s me. Let me in. I got a six-pack and some of the good stuff.”

      Charlie didn’t recognize the man’s voice. He probably had the wrong house. Charlie unlocked the door and, leaving the chain latch on, eased the door open a couple of inches.

      “Come on, man, let me in. I need to pee real bad.”

      The guy didn’t look familiar. Black hair, black mustache, dressed in cheap leather and sporting a sizable tattoo on his neck, he looked like some of the guys Charlie had known in his past.

      “Look, buddy, I think you’ve got the wrong house.”

      “You’re Charles Wong, right? You’re married to my cousin Lily, right? Didn’t she tell you I was in town and she offered to put me up a couple of nights?”

      Lily’s cousin? “No, she didn’t mention you.”

      “Hey, sorry about that. I guess she forgot. Probably too busy with plans for that overnight camping trip with the girls’ Brownie troop.”

      Charlie breathed a bit easier. Apparently his midnight visitor really was Lily’s cousin. Otherwise, how would he know about the Brownie troop’s camping trip?

      Charlie removed the safety latch and opened the front door. “Come on in. I’m afraid you’ll have to bunk on the sofa. We don’t have a guest bedroom.”

      “No problem. I’m grateful you’ll put me up a couple of nights while I’m in town.” He entered the living room and closed the door behind him.

      Charlie noticed the small tote bag in his hand. “You’re traveling light, aren’t you?”

      “Just СКАЧАТЬ