“It’s not that old-fashioned.’’

Savannah sounded miffed, and Mama seemed to catch her tone. “I didn’t mean to say we’re old, honey.’’

Savannah arched a perfectly groomed brow. “Who’s this we, Kemo Sabe? I’m at least fifteen years younger than you are, Rosalee.’’

I saw on Mama’s face that she was weighing whether to argue that point. But since it would involve her having to state her own age, I knew she’d decide against it.

“Whatever you say, Sugar.’’

That “sugar’’ didn’t fool me. The temperature in the air between Mama and the normally sweet Savannah had just dropped by ten degrees. Maybe the director’s wife had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. Or, maybe she’d looked over to see Paul’s pillow hadn’t been slept on at all. Whatever, she was in some kind of mood.

Jesse smirked as she shredded more bread. The birds were returning, cautiously. “Wise decision not to challenge her, Rosalee. Savannah likes things her way.’’

“Yes, I do. Especially when my way is the right way.’’

“Oh, I forgot: Savannah is always right, too.’’

“About some things I am. Yes.’’

“About some things, oh yes!’’ Jesse cupped her hands under her chin and put on a mocking drawl.

Mama’s head swung back and forth between Savannah and Jesse like a one-eyed dog in a butcher shop. I probably looked the same way, trying to decipher what the two of them really meant behind the words they spoke. I caught Mama’s glance. She shrugged.

Savannah took a couple of steps toward Jesse. The star tossed the rest of her bread to the birds. “I have to go.’’

“Don’t, Jesse … Please.’’ Savannah reached a hand to the younger woman’s cheek; Jesse swatted it away.

“Don’t beg, Savannah. It’s so unattractive.’’

Getting up, Jesse folded the hat brim to shield her face from view. “I’m going inside. I need to rest, and I don’t want to be bothered.’’ The three of us watched as she flounced up the steps to her trailer.

“Thanks for the autograph,’’ Mama called after her. “Does that mean our rehearsal is over?’’

The door slammed shut behind Jesse. The birds took flight.

“Guess so,’’ I said to Mama.

“Well, that was rude,’’ she said.

“What did you expect?’’ Savannah snapped. “You had no right to bother Jesse with your stupid lines. She’s a big star.’’

Mama looked like she’d been slapped by one of her fellow teachers at Sunday School. Then she got peeved.

“For your information, Jesse offered to help me with my lines. And I don’t recall her getting all ticked off until you arrived on the scene.’’

Savannah stared at the door of the trailer. I thought I saw some movement behind the window blinds, but the door stayed firmly shut. Savannah marched up the steps and banged at it. Once. Twice. A third time. In between, she called out Jesse’s name, pleadingly. Not a sound came from inside. Finally, she gave up, backing down the steps. She didn’t say a word to us as she left, never even glancing our way.

“My goodness, who licked the red off of Savannah’s candy?’’ Mama asked.

I shrugged, keeping my eyes on Jesse’s trailer. “There’s no figuring out these Hollywood people, Mama. They’re like aliens from another planet. I’m not even sure they breathe oxygen.’’

Now, I was sure I detected the blinds move. A moment later, the door inched open. Jesse’s smooth cheek and upturned nose appeared around the edge.

“Is she gone?’’

Mama and I nodded.

“Thank God!’’ She came back out, clutching the sun hat to her breast, her red hair pulled back in a casual ponytail. She looked like the teen-aged girl she’d so recently been.

“What was that all about?’’ I asked.

“You don’t have to say, if it’s private,’’ Mama added. “We’re not gossips.’’

Well, I thought, at least one of us isn’t a gossip.

Jesse sighed. “I stopped caring about gossip a long time ago, Rosalee.’’

I didn’t believe that for an instant. Jesse, and the rest of this Hollywood pack, seemed to thrive on drama. And gossip was a big part of that. Still, I wanted to know what had just happened.

“Well, then?’’ Mama prodded.

“Savannah thinks she’s in love.’’

“With her husband?’’ Mama’s brows V-ed into a frown.

“Not even close.’’ Jesse winked at me.

Things were becoming clear, but Mama wasn’t seeing.

“How long?’’ I asked.

“Not long,’’ Jesse said. “We hooked up right before I got the part.’’

“Don’t tell me: Savannah helped influence her husband to hire you,’’ I said.

Another wink.

“Would one of you please tell me what’s going on?’’ Mama asked.

“Savannah’s in love with me, Rosalee.’’

I saw the satisfaction on Jesse’s face, as she watched Mama pick up her jaw from the ground. If shock was what she’d wanted, that was what she got.

“Buh … buh … but you’re both women,’’ Mama sputtered. “And Savannah is married!’’

Jesse waved the sun hat. “Your daughter and I already had this conversation about sexuality in Hollywood. It’s fluid, right Mace?’’

“What’s that supposed to mean?’’ Mama asked.

I wasn’t about to go there. Mama would start reciting Bible verses right and left.

“Hollywood is a different world, that’s for sure,’’ I said. “My attitude is you can live your life however you want, as long as no one gets hurt. Fact is, Savannah looked hurt to me.’’

Jesse shrugged. “Don’t be so sure about that. The reason I backed off wasn’t because Savannah is too old for me. It was because she’s crazy. Believe me, beneath that sugary Southern exterior beats a cold, vengeful heart.’’

With that, Jesse looked toward the sky. Clouds were rolling in, but there was still sunshine enough to give Jesse a bad burn. She stuck the hat back on her head, and settled herself again in her camp chair.

“Now,’’ she pointed at Mama. “Time to rehearse!’’

I hurried away, with the aspiring actress’s umpteenth line reading echoing in my ears.

The wind moaned. Sheets of rain slanted down sideways from a dark gray sky. With each furious gust, the plastic panels of the catering tent flapped and shuddered.

“Are we having a hurricane?’’ Paul Watkins peered out nervously at the storm-tossed sabal palms. Fronds were shaking loose, blowing end over end across a sodden landscape.

I added a couple of packets of sugar to the cup of coffee in front of me. “This is nothing; just a little thundershower,’’ I said. “They’re as common this time of year as the splat of love bugs on windshields in springtime.’’

When the storm kicked up, most of the stars had sought shelter in their trailers. I’d found refuge in the food tent, where I spotted Paul. He was alone, for a change. I decided to take advantage of that fact, and invited myself to sit down. Talking about the weather was a good way to work up the nerve to ask him what I really wanted to know.

“Say, Paul …’’

“Hmmm?’’ He was still focused on the fury outside.

“Something’s been bothering me.’’

“There’s nothing wrong with the livestock, is there?’’

“No, the horses and cattle are fine.’’

Turning, he raised an eyebrow. I forged ahead. “Where were you the morning that Norman Sydney was murdered? Why was Johnny Jaybird shooting that scene with the galloping horse?’’

I knew what Savannah had told me. I wanted to hear what her husband would say. Seconds ticked by as he stared at me, the storm outside the window seemingly forgotten.

“Do you work for the police in addition to being an animal wrangler?’’ he finally asked.

I shook my head.

“Has the studio hired you to look into the case?’’

“No.’’

“Then it’s really none of your business, is it?’’

“But …”

He grabbed my wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong for such a skinny guy. “But nothing,’’ he said. “It’s not your business. Do you understand?’’