“She might tell you she’s just playing a part, Henry, now that she’s Himmarshee’s own Kelly Conover,’’ I said.

Just then, the cowbells jangled on the diner’s door. “Speak of the devil,’’ Maddie whispered.

“Oh my god,’’ Henry breathed.

“Looks like the alarm clock just rang on Mama’s fifteen minutes of fame,’’ I said.

As the diners became aware of who had just made an entrance, whispers spread like ripples in a pond. One of the waitresses dropped a plate of ham and red-eye gravy. Then, complete silence descended. The cashier stopped in the middle of ringing up a check, hand hovering over the keys on the cash register. The fry cook left the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron and smoothing his balding head. One of the younger patrons fumbled for her cell phone and started snapping pictures. An older diner, the wife of the Rotary club president, slapped her hand.

“Put that camera phone down, Brianna! Miss Conover has a right to privacy. Who do you think you are? One of those smart alecks from TMZ?’’

Maddie put her hand to her mouth and whispered, “And who do you think has the Hollywood gossip page at TMZ.com bookmarked on her computer? Mrs. Rotary herself.’’

Kelly’s eyes met mine, and I waved her over. Henry, meanwhile, still hadn’t uttered a word. He took the napkin out of his collar, straightened his tie, and unrolled the cuffs on his light gray dress shirt. As the movie star approached, he nearly knocked over his own chair as he leapt to pull out one for her.

After everyone was settled, and Henry had mopped the drool from his chin, Kelly asked what I knew about Toby’s close call in the parking lot.

“Jesse and I had just found him, shortly before you came walking along the path,’’ I said. “He stumbled out of the woods right where we were riding.’’

“How convenient,’’ Kelly said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?’’ Henry’s sharp, defense-attorney self was warring with his bedazzled male adolescent, because he immediately grinned and added, “I’m Henry, by the way. I’m a lawyer, so I’m used to asking questions. I don’t mean any offense, Miss Conover.’’

“Call me Kelly.’’ As she turned those money-green eyes on him, Henry melted.

“Okay, then: Kelly. I’m a big fan.’’

“You’re a big something,’’ Maddie harrumphed.

“Anyway …” Kelly said, “I just think it’s weird Toby got hurt, and then managed to get to the exact spot where you and his little girlfriend would find him.’’

“Maybe not so much weird as lucky,’’ I said. “He needed to be checked out, and we were able to do that, and then get him to the medic.’’

“But his injuries weren’t serious, right?’’

“He was pretty banged up.’’

I was feeling strangely protective of the teen star. Maybe it was because I had watched Jesse rip out his heart and stomp on it. That had to hurt as much as his injuries from the parking lot incident.

Kelly persisted, “But it wasn’t anything life-threatening.’’

I nodded, “Right.’’

“Whose idea was it to go riding?’’ she asked.

I knew Jesse and I had talked about how I didn’t want anyone hurt with the horses, but I couldn’t actually remember whether she’d asked or I’d offered to give her a horseback lesson.

I shrugged.

“Well, who wanted to ride through that particular stretch of woods?’’

I got a quick flash of Jesse admiring the woodsy hammock. Is it safe to ride through there?

I must have had a funny look on my face, because Kelly said: “I knew it! It was Jesse’s idea!’’

“So?’’

“Mace is right,’’ Maddie said. “Why should that make a difference?’’

It was Kelly’s turn to shrug. “I’m not sure. When you’ve been in Hollywood as long as I have, you always question what’s made out to be the truth.’’

Chin on his hands, Henry’s face was moony. “Kelly, you don’t look a day older than when you starred in the Teenaged Detective.” Had he heard a word of what we’d been saying?

“Thanks,’’ Kelly said, “but that was a lifetime ago. I’ve learned over time not to trust public images, and I don’t for a minute buy that clean-cut Disney-star crap surrounding Toby Wyle.’’

I thought back to him strutting out of Jesse’s trailer, zipper undone, that first day Mama and I saw him on the set. Definitely not Disney. What about Jesse? Was she playing me? I wasn’t going to share my thoughts with Kelly, though. She might be the one fooling all of us.

“So, are you suggesting Toby or Jesse may have something to gain by making Toby appear to be a victim?’’ Courtroom Henry was back, thank goodness.

“I think one or both of them had something to do with the murder. They’re trying to confuse everyone by diverting suspicion away from Toby.’’

Kelly turned those eyes on him, like deep green pools in an enchanted forest. Horny Adolescent Henry looked like he wanted to jump in for a swim.

“I don’t buy it.’’ Maddie reverted to her usual role, skeptical principal. “What’s Toby’s motive? His manager is Barbara Sydney. She’s also the ex-wife and was the current business partner of Norman, the murder victim. Toby was reportedly golden with both of them. Why would he risk that? What would he have to gain?’’

Mama had crept up to the table again, and was listening. Unnaturally quiet, she seemed aware her audience was now transfixed on a much bigger star. “I’ll tell you what Toby had to gain. Publicity,’’ she finally said. “We actors breathe it like oxygen. Isn’t that right, Kelly?’’

“I’m sorry. Have we met?’’

Kelly’s voice was cool, all Hollywood superiority. Mama’s cheeks pinked. For a moment, I thought it served her right, but then I felt sorry for her.

“That’s my mama, Rosalee,’’ I reminded Kelly, a little sharply. “She’s playing Ruby, the prostitute.’’

“Dancehall girl.’’ Mama smoothed her coiffure.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Rosalee. Of course! It’s nice to see you again.’’

Mama’s face glowed, even though everyone else at the table could tell Kelly was only being polite.

“That’s a good point you make about publicity, Rosalee. But Toby and Jesse have more publicity than they can handle right now. Negative publicity. What are the tabloids calling them? To-se? Jes-to?’’

Mrs. Rotary President leaned in from the next table. “Jeby.’’

Kelly dipped her head slightly, like a queen recognizing a loyal subject. Then she continued, “Anyway, the same thing about publicity doesn’t hold true with …’’

As her words trailed off, she studied the hands she folded on the tabletop.

“Publicity with what?’’ I asked.

She lowered her voice. “Who not what, and I don’t want to say. We go way back.’’

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone,’’ Henry said. “I’m used to respecting lawyer-client confidentiality.’’

What Henry didn’t say was: if you’re not a client, watch out. There’s not a more enthusiastic participant in the Himmarshee Gossip Hotline than Henry Bauer, Esq.

Kelly glanced around the café. All the diners suddenly seemed fascinated by their food. Forks scraped plates. Spoons clinked against coffee cups. Conversations resumed. No one wanted to look like a nosy rube. She leaned in close. We did, too.

“Greg Tilton.’’ She whispered his name. “He needs publicity, bad. The tabs don’t even bother following him around anymore. He needs a big picture.’’

Maddie said, “This picture seems pretty big.’’

Kelly regarded her hands again. Finally, she raised those green, liquid eyes to her audience.

“Yes, it is. And Norm Sydney was hacking Greg’s role to bits so Toby could emerge as the new big star of this very big film.’’

Perched on the top rail of the horse corral, I watched across the way as Jeb and one of his ranch hands worked about two dozen head of cattle. Jeb’s cow dog gave a couple of yips, helping to drive the animals toward their pen.