When Federico finally called “cut,” everyone applauded. I wasn’t needed in the next scenes, which were between Ned and the little-ole bomb maker played by Ashton Kutcher. I only wished Millie could be there. She was a huge fan of the young man.
I went up to my room, doing my best to avoid falling into the bed. I was tired, but there were things to be done. And the one person who could help me needed to put in an appearance.
I closed and locked my bedroom door. “Jitty!” I whispered, but it was a loud one. “Jitty! I need you.” While she might ignore my demands, she would never ignore a plea for help.
I walked around the room, waiting.
“Jitty, this is serious!” Hell, she didn’t have to fly over from Zinnia. She was a ghost. She could just materialize, so what was keeping her?
I saw a form on the balcony outside my window, and my heart skipped a beat. Someone was out there. I’d locked the windows and my door before Graf and I left the room. So who was it?
The figure crossed the window, a shapely silhouette in a long, dark gown. The elusive woman in red! I hurried to the French doors and yanked them open, determined to find out who was playing such a dangerous game.
Jitty, wearing a blond wig and a long, sleek black gown that hugged her bodacious curves, put one gloved hand on her hip. Her other hand held a long, slender cigarette holder and a glowing fag.
“Is that a pistol in your pocket, or are you glad to see me?” she asked, a perfect imitation of Mae West. She strutted past me into the room.
“Jitty!”
“You called, didn’t you?”
“I thought you were the ghost.” My heart was still pounding.
“I am. So what’s going on?”
“Can you tell if there’s another spirit in this house?”
She looked at me as if I’d suddenly grown a large, cabbage-shaped tumor on the side of my head. “Sarah Booth, I’m not a medium like James van Praagh or John Edward.”
“I didn’t ask you to communicate with the ghost. I just need to know if there’s one here in the house, or if the things that are happening are from a human source.”
Jitty puffed on her cigarette, making me want one. Being dead had some real advantages. “I’m not allowed to tell you.”
“And if you do, what will happen?” I couldn’t believe the red tape in the Great Beyond.
“Nothing good. I might get a permanent recall.”
I wasn’t willing to barter Jitty’s presence for a scrap of information that I could determine for myself. All I had to do was grab her-and if I caught her, she was flesh and blood. But so far, the lady in red had been fleet of foot. “Is there a test to determine if this is a spirit?”
“Check out a mirror. Ghosts don’t have a reflection.” She frowned. “Or is that a vampire? I get the rules confused sometimes. Now I’ve got business of my own.” She started to fade, an undulating shimmer of energy that grew dimmer. “Keep up the bedroom activity, Sarah Booth. Think what a child star you and Graf could produce.”
Her laughter was the last aspect of her to depart, a throaty chuckle that even while it irritated me, made me smile. For whatever reason, Jitty was unwilling to help me with this. That in itself had to be a clue.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tinkie had rented a purple car that looked like a cross between a Scion and a VW bug-it had the best air conditioner of any car in the fleet. She pulled up to the front of the mansion with her hair blowing in the chilled breeze. Chablis, too, was enjoying the air-conditioning. Her little ears were standing straight up.
Both of them jumped from the car, and Tinkie carried a roll of architectural plans almost taller than she was. Her dress-to-impress outfit she’d chosen to visit the architect included five-inch stiletto sandals, lime green, a linen minidress, backless, and a floral matador jacket. The outfit was completed with a straw hat. She looked like a million dollars.
“I not only got the plans, I got a bit of history on the Gonzalez family from Senor Lopez. Fascinating stuff.” She waved the plans at me.
“Let’s have a look at those,” Graf said. He was as eager as I was to put an end to the visits of the phantom woman. “I’ll bet there’re secret passages where someone is hiding.” His eyes narrowed. “She’s popping out and doing stuff, then hiding again. And when we find her and catch her, she’s going to face an assault charge against Jovan.”
“There are passages,” Tinkie said. She’d drawn her own conclusions and was having a hard time not spilling everything right then and there.
“Let’s go up to my room,” I said. “It’s more private and-” I broke off when Ricardo came around the corner of the house.
“Ladies, Graf.” He smiled, and I thought again what a handsome young man he was. What a perfect contrast to Estelle, who was beautiful but so angry that it distorted her lovely features.
“Dad needs you back on the set.” Ricardo spoke to Graf. “He needs a retake of a shot with you and Ashton.”
Graf hid his disappointment. “Certainly, Ricardo. I’ll be right there.” He looked at us. “You girls continue without me.”
“What’s that?” Ricardo pointed to the roll of drawings Tinkie held.
“Sarah Booth and Graf are building a home back in the States. I wanted to go over the plans with them, since I’ll be in charge until they return.” Tinkie was cool as a cucumber in chilled dill sauce.
“It must be a big house.” Something cold had drifted into Ricardo’s big brown eyes.
“They’re movie stars, Ricardo. Of course the house will be palatial. It’s expected. Part of the packaging. Maybe your father can explain it to you.” Tinkie’s voice had an edge to it.
Ricardo was either smart or lucky. “Be sure and include a gym with a Jacuzzi and lots of workout equipment. Being a star is difficult. One extra ounce of fat, one bad hair day…” He gave his signature one-shouldered shrug. “You guys can have it. I’ll take anonymity behind the camera and a big paycheck anyday.”
“Let’s see what your dad needs,” Graf said, stepping in front of Ricardo and leading him back to the set.
Tinkie and I stood in the shade of some lush tropical tree. The scent of roses wafted to us from the gardens. “There’s something about that kid that gives me the willies,” Tinkie said.
“Could be testosterone untempered by experience.”
“Could be sociopathic tendencies and a subverted hatred of his father.”
“Wow, Tink, I’m usually the one to say the harsh things.”
“This family is seriously screwed up, Sarah Booth. And I’m not just whistling ‘Dixie.’ I’ve got the proof right here.”
“My room?” I asked.
“Absolutely not.”
She was so adamant that I put a hand on her shoulder and got her to face me. “What’s wrong with my room?”
“It’s perfectly lovely, and whoever matched those sheers to the wallpaper and the bedspread did a perfect job, but-” She held up a hand to stop me from interrupting. “There’s a passageway behind the bathroom wall. It’s large enough for someone to stand in, and there are peepholes cut so that you can be watched. Behind one of the tapestries. I’ll show you later.”
A million thoughts collided in my head. Someone could have been watching Graf and me make love. That was creepy enough. But it went deeper than that. Someone was spying with the intention of hurting one or all of us.
The mental image of Norman Bates leaped into my mind. I turned to Tinkie.
“You’re white as a sheet,” she said, grasping my elbow and moving me into the shade of the porch. “Take a breath and let’s go up to my room. As far as I can tell, the guest rooms don’t figure into the secret passageways and hidey-holes that Estoban Gonzalez built into his daughter’s wedding gift.”