The Book Stops Here

“Don’t sweat it; you’ll look gorgeous on camera. I just hope you’ll be able to talk with the swelling.”

 

 

Oh, great. Now I had something brand-new to worry about. “Thanks a lot, Chuck.” My jaw was really starting to hurt and talking didn’t help. But I wasn’t about to complain or say anything that would get me sent home, so I relaxed in the chair and let him work his magic.

 

After I’d given the two policemen a description of my assailant, I’d written down the address of Vera’s flower shop and told them that she would be able to give them the bad guy’s address. With any luck, he would be in jail for assault and battery by the end of the day.

 

Poor Benny had refused to go to the hospital, insisting he was fine. He’d just been a little shaken up. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to brush off the incident. He might be worried about losing his job as a studio security guard if his employers didn’t think he could handle an altercation like the one we’d just been through.

 

I wanted to call Vera and warn her that the police would be coming by, but I was running out of time. I needed to study up on my next book. And I had to telephone Derek before he showed up and saw my bruises.

 

But as I’d passed the makeup room, I’d run into Chuck. He’d taken one look at my darkening jaw and insisted on doing something about it.

 

“That’s it, just relax.” Chuck grinned as he worked. The man looked like a tall, skinny elf with his twinkling eyes, curly gray mustache, and meticulously trimmed goatee. His strokes were so light, it was like getting a mini massage. My eyelids fluttered closed and I was pretty sure I could’ve dozed off in this chair with no difficulty at all.

 

“What the hell happened to you?”

 

I flinched and my eyes flew open. Randolph Rayburn was staring intently at me, as if I were a strange-looking bug on a slide. I really must have fallen asleep because I hadn’t heard him come into the makeup room.

 

“Did somebody hurt you?” he persisted.

 

“Sort of,” I said slowly.

 

His eyes widened. “Who was it? Did he smack you? Should I call the police?”

 

“They were already here.”

 

“They were?” He shot Chuck a questioning look. “Why didn’t I hear them?”

 

“It happened outside in the parking lot.”

 

“Who was it? Did the police arrest him?”

 

“No, he got away.”

 

“Damn it. So, what happened?”

 

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was hard to concentrate. I needed to pop some ibuprofen or I’d be a mess by the time I got on camera. And even scarier, it was getting harder to talk without my jaw aching.

 

“Maybe you should go home,” Randolph said, watching me struggle.

 

“No. I’m just a little dazed, that’s all.” There was no way I was going home. “Anyway, some guy came by claiming to be the rightful owner of the book I appraised yesterday. He grabbed me in the parking lot and threatened me.”

 

“Was it someone you know?”

 

I didn’t feel like explaining the entire situation to Randolph. “No.”

 

“So you’ve never seen him before today?”

 

“No.”

 

Chuck snickered behind me. “Hey, Randy, maybe your imaginary stalker finally showed up for real.”

 

“He is real,” Randolph muttered, frowning.

 

“Sure he is,” Chuck mocked. “Is he also the type to attack a woman?”

 

Randolph ignored Chuck and carried on with his questioning. “So, this guy actually attacked you?”

 

I wasn’t about to let him change the subject. “Do you have a stalker, Randolph?”

 

Chuck snorted. “He’d like us all to believe he does.”

 

I watched Randolph’s expression turn cloudy. Tell them someone’s trying to kill me. The words I’d overheard him say yesterday came rushing back.

 

If Randolph thought someone was stalking him, he seemed to be having a hard time getting anyone else to believe him. So why was I inclined to believe him without question? Maybe because I’d seen more malevolence in the last year than an average person saw in a lifetime.

 

My gaze met Randolph’s in the mirror. “Are you being stalked?”

 

Chuck shook his head. “Oh, please. Don’t encourage him.”

 

Randolph scowled but said nothing more. A minute later, Angie arrived to take him out to the stage.

 

Chuck used a soft brush to give my cheeks the slightest touch of color. Then he patted my shoulder. “I think I’ve done all I can do for you, Brooks.”

 

I smiled, amused that Chuck had called me Brooks from the first time we were introduced yesterday. Some people were the type to be familiar from the start.

 

I gazed at my face in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised. After turning my head to catch a few different angles of myself, I said, “Wow, you can’t see a thing. And you made me look good besides. Thanks, Chuck.”

 

“You look good without my help, doll,” he said. “I just enhanced what was already there. Along with a little creative covering up.”

 

“I really appreciate it.” I stood and moved closer to the mirror to get a better look. “I owe you.”

 

Kate Carlisle's books