“You look beautiful,” he said cautiously.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, did you land that part in the Hitchcock film? What was it again?”
“Dial M for Murder. And no, I didn’t. But I did have a good part in a film that’ll be out this summer, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. I actually filmed it last year. I don’t believe I mentioned it to you. I play a song-and-dance girl. Had a few lines.”
“Well, this gentleman prefers blondes,” said Archer, still trying to break the ice floe he sensed all around him.
“Marilyn Monroe is in it. She’s really terrific. She croons ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend’ like nobody’s business. And she’s got two other pictures coming out this year. She’s going to be a star.” She paused. “And she’s four years younger than me.”
“So what, Liberty? Everybody has a different schedule in life.”
They fell silent, with all the Hollywood chitchat exhausted.
Archer could feel it coming, just like he had before every battle he’d fought in during the war. You could sense the doom creeping closer and your hand flicked to your dog tags and you prayed that when you died they would still be there, so the Army would know where to send the telegram about your death. And your remains.
She finally said in a tremulous tone, “I read the papers while I was away. My God, everything you’ve been through. It was a miracle you survived.”
He didn’t like the way she said the word miracle, not at all.
“Everything turned out okay,” he said. “No bullet holes in me or anything.”
As soon as he said it, Archer regretted it.
Callahan had turned deathly pale and put a hand to her mouth.
“Liberty, I’m okay. I’m fine, really.”
“I... talked to Connie.”
“What about?” he said quickly.
“She told me about... Vegas, the desert. Darren Paley... You.”
Archer started to twirl his new hat faster and faster. It felt funny in a bad way. Not lucky at all. The nerves didn’t recede, they fireballed. “I didn’t know that.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I’m not going to bore you with every little thing—”
She stood, her features tortured and savage. “Little! You coming two seconds from being murdered. You call that little!”
Archer didn’t know how to respond to this, so he said nothing. He just eyed her, looking for some opening to bring this thing back to a level he could handle. But he wasn’t finding it.
“If Willie hadn’t been there...” Her voice trailed off and her skin turned from white to near gray. She fell rather than sat back down.
“But he was there, Liberty. That’s the whole point.”
“But he won’t always be. That is the point!”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, a touch of anger creeping into his voice.
“You don’t have to say anything, Archer. Things are pretty clear. My dream of stardom is starting to fade, and yours...”
“Mine what?” he said a bit more harshly than he probably intended.
“Has turned into a nightmare. At least for me.”
There was a knock on the door.
“You expecting someone?” asked Archer curiously.
“Yes, I am.”
Callahan composed herself, rose, smoothed down her dress, primped her hair, and went to the door.
Chapter 78
The man standing there was around forty-five, close to Callahan’s height in bare feet, thinly built with a mustache and a wickedly sharp widow’s peak that had little hair behind it, like a low tide with no high tide left to come. He was dressed in an expensive blue wool suit with a yellow carnation in his lapel. He held a snazzy hat in his hand. Callahan gave him a kiss on the cheek and took his arm. He was holding a bouquet of flowers much larger than the one Archer had brought.
“What beautiful flowers, Harold, thank you.”
Archer rose and looked at him and then at Callahan, who took a moment to lay the flowers aside.
“Harold Stevens, this is my friend, Archer. Harold and I met while I was away filming on location in Arizona, Archer. He’s producing the film I’m working on for Warners.”
Stevens came forward with his hand out for Archer to shake. “Liberty likes to build me up more than I deserve. I’m really a humble CPA who got a production credit on this film as a thank-you from Jack Warner for some work I did for him, that I guess he considered above and beyond. I’ve got a good business, though, employ a lot of people, and live pretty well. But the best thing that came out of this producing thing was me meeting Liberty.”
“And accounting is nice steady work, and he takes weekends off, right, Harold?”
“Absolutely, babe.” He slipped his arm casually around Callahan’s waist.
This innocuous move ripped at Archer more than even the Paley-piloted Beechcraft coming for him had.
Stevens touched her necklace. “I knew that would look fabulous on you when I saw it in the jewelry shop in Beverly Hills.”
“It was a lovely gift,” she said, glancing at Archer. “We’re going to a studio function tonight. Dinner and then dancing.”
“Sounds like fun,” said Archer in a voice so low he could barely hear it. He glanced at the sable wrap. That had probably been a gift from the man, too.
Stevens said, “Wow, that is one swell ride out there. Are those your wheels, Archer?”
“Yeah, it’s a Delahaye. I won it gambling in Reno, if you can believe it — right, Liberty?”
“It was a little more involved than that, Archer.”
Stevens looked pensive. “Archer, Archer, I know that name for some reason. Weren’t you in the papers recently about something?”
Archer looked at Callahan before saying, “I think that was another Archer.”
“So, what do you do for a living?” asked Stevens.
“Little bit of this and that. I’m in between gigs right now.”
Stevens laughed. “I know just what you mean. I used to be like that. Then I thought, what’s certain in life, death and taxes, right? And because of that people will always need good accountants. So, voilà. I’ve been lucky for sure.” He eyed Callahan. “Still am.”
“Well, I don’t want to keep you. Oh, I think this is yours.”
He handed Stevens the lighter.
The man chuckled. “I must have left this the last time I was here.” He grinned at Callahan while Archer ran his gaze over her. She was staring trancelike into space.
“I’ll see you out, Archer. Harold, fix yourself a drink. You know where everything is.”
“Right, babe. Nice to meet you, Archer. Hope you get another gig real soon. Anything I can do to help, just let me know. A friend of Liberty’s is a friend of mine.”
“Yeah, thanks. Nice to meet you, too.”
Callahan led him outside and over to the Delahaye. Parked behind it was a 1952 baby blue Cadillac Eldorado convertible with whitewalls, tail fins, and a full mouth of chrome teeth on the front end.
“This Harold’s car?”
“Yes.”
“Sweet ride.” It dwarfed the Delahaye size-wise and had all the latest bells and whistles. Compared to his car, the Eldorado seemed to symbolize one thing: Out with the old and in with the new.
She ran her hand over the Delahaye’s car door.
“Yeah, but this is still one of a kind,” Callahan said. She looked at Archer, who was just staring at her. “Okay, I know that you’re confused and hurt and... lots of other things.”
“Look, if you love the guy it doesn’t matter what’s going on in my head.”
“He’s a nice enough man, but I haven’t known him long enough to know whether I love him or not, Archer.”