Charming Grace (44 page)

He was dead in spirit long before I watched him take his last breath in the ER. In real life, blood and grief color the darkness inside the heart. His beloved ladyslippers grew only in the lost and forgotten places, and died when moved unless handled with the utmost love. I had tried to move him, and failed.

“Somebody get me a wet cloth,” Boone yelled two years later. He had one arm around me, holding me up. But I wasn’t collapsing; I just stood there, looking at my bloodied hands. Abbie sobbed as she gripped my other hand, the one without fake blood on it; at least a dozen horrified crewmembers crowded around me, offering sweaty tissues, their shirt sleeves, their greasy work rags—whatever they had on them—if it would just get the blood off
me
. Lowe pushed his way through the crowd. He was crying.

“Ah, Grace,” he said hoarsely. “This is. . .ah, Grace.
Grace
. I’m so bloody sorry. I mean,
damn
. Bloody. I didn’t mean to put it that way.”

“Everybody back!” Stone yelled. He shoved through, grabbed his wide-brimmed safari hat off his head, and fanned me with it. “Everybody get back in place! Grace, you’re a trooper—you look fine. Let go of her, Noleene, she’s not gonna fall down—look at her, solid as a rock, not even shaky. Noleene, back off, I said.” Stone fanned me one more time, peered at me closely, then nodded. “Yep, she’s fine. Back off.”

“
You
back off, you dumb shit,” Boone said in a voice that could crack ice.

Stone stared at him. “
What
did you say to me?”

“Get out of her breathin’ space and
shut up
.”

Stone’s musclebound hackles bristled like the ruff on a big rooster. In all his blustery squabbles with Boone, Boone had never spoken to him in that tone, before. Boone had never told him to shut up, before.

“Have you lost your
mind
?” Stone yelled. He jerked a thumb toward an air-conditioned tent. “Noleene! Into my office! We need to have a talk!
Right now
!”

“We’re havin’ a talk, right here, right now,” Boone said quietly. “Get away from Grace and
shut your mouth
.”

Reality came back to me in a jolt. Boone had climbed onto my symbolic funeral pyre the day he met me atop the gravel pile, and he’d stayed there with me faithfully, ever since. Now he was about to set himself on fire—for my sake.

I grabbed Stone by the shirt. “Go back to your camera. Keep filming your gory scenes. I can stand it. This is all just make-believe. Harp’s dead and nothing you do or don’t do can change that fact. I don’t care how much fake blood you throw at his memory, this is still
just
a movie—and a
lousy
movie, at that. I’m beginning to understand that this movie not only can’t hurt my husband’s reputation, but that I’ve wasted my time even worrying about it. Because when Harp died on this rooftop he saved the lives of
hundreds
of people. Those lives have gone on because of him. There are
hundreds
of people alive in the world today
because of him
. They’re a living memorial that will go on in the lives of their children and the children of their children—and in all the children in all the generations to follow.
Thousands
of people, eventually
millions
of descendents will all owe their lives to
one person
, Harp Vance, who stood here on this rooftop and saved them.” I yanked on Stone’s shirt for emphasis then let go with a dismissive shove. “You only make
movies
. Harp made the
future
.”

Stone was practically emitting steam. “Grace, I can’t deal with a lecture right now! I’ve got a movie to make!” He focused on Boone, again. “And some ass to kick! Did you hear me, Noleene? I said I want to talk to you, in private, right
now
!”

Lowe flung up a gory, dripping hand. “First, I have something to say!” Everyone shrank back from more flying droplets of fake blood. Lowe jabbed a finger at Stone. “You can take this bloody bad movie and shove it. Today’s the last straw. I’m calling my agent. I
quit
.”

Stone nearly exploded. “Who do you think you are? You can’t quit on me! Nobody quits on Stone Senterra! You get your Aussie ass into the dressing tent and you
get
ready to do another take on this scene!
Now
, you kangaroo jockey!”

“Stick it up your outback, mate.” Lowe walked away.

Stone pointed to an assistant. “Get his agent on the phone, pronto! Get my lawyers! Get my wife!”

Abbie stepped forward. She looked determined but apologetic. “Stone? You might as well call my agent, too.
Don’t tell me just to sit and putter. Nobody can rain on my parade.
That’s a quote from Streisand. Or, at least, one of her movies. Good bye.” She headed after Lowe.

Stone threw down his hat. “When,” he suddenly yelled, “did I lose control of this movie?” He lasered Boone with a deadly look. “Noleene, this happened because of
you
. You and Grace. Always you and Grace together, always causing trouble!”

“I told you so!” Diamond said. She rushed through the crowd, dressed only in a skimpy robe from the dressing tent, her bright blonde hair up in hot rollers, her un-painted eyes gleaming like pale marbles of fury. “He and Grace planned this! Fire him! Fire him forever! I’ll have my security people throw him off the set! You promised me, Stone! You said one more fuck-up and he’s gone! Fire him!”

“Crawl back in your burrow, mole-eyes,” I said in a low voice.

Diamond lunged at me. Stone grabbed her around the waist.

“Watch out, she’s frothin’ at the mouth,” Boone warned, and stepped in front of me.

Stone pawed the air with his free arm. “Sis, I’ll handle this—”

“You promised! You swore on our mother’s rosary beads!
In Italian.
”

For the next minute or two, Stone was reduced to garbled, all-purpose yelling at his sister, with Diamond shouting back at him.
Fire Boone Noleene. I’m the one who always gives you the best career advice! You should have listened to me! You promised to get rid of him if he screwed up again! You promised! Fire him!

Cheap, green gold, right to the core
, I thought. I turned to Boone, planning to say so.

He was gone.

I searched for him in the crowd. My head swam. All right, he was just off getting me more ice water. I’d find him in a minute. Dazed, I left Stone and Diamond in the throes of shouting at each other and their assistants, while crew members scurried in all directions. I’d put Stone’s movie exactly where I’d always wanted it: In the toilet.

Funny, but that didn’t feel like much of a victory, anymore.

I walked over to the spot where Harp died. Movie blood spattered the asphalt in all directions. I knelt and touched the smeared surface. Underneath the illusion, Harp’s blood and spirit remained—sacred, loving, and infinite. Nothing else mattered.

He whispered to me.

I loved you so much. Now you understand why it’s all right to forget me.

When I finished crying, I stood and looked for Boone, again. I found only Tex and Mojo, waiting for me with sorrowful expressions. “Noleene said you needed to be alone, but not to let you be by yourself,” Tex explained. “So here we are.”

“Where is
Boone
?”

Mojo sighed. “He’s headed for Dahlonega, to pack his bags.”

I immediately started for the nearest doorway. “Stone will get over this. He
can’t
blame Boone. I’ll go get Boone, and then we’ll talk to Stone.”

Mojo and Tex hurried after me. Mojo snared me by one arm. When I swung around, he and Tex gazed at me morosely. Tex shook his head. “Stone told us to kick him off the set. Nobody talks to Stone the way Boone did and keeps his job. Not even Boone. Plus Stone gave his word to his sister, and say what you will about Stone, but he keeps his word. Boone’s
gone
, Grace. And this time you can’t get him back.”

Okay, Noleene, time to cut your losses and head for the swamps.

I tried not to think about Grace while I tossed my worldly possessions into two big leather duffels and a hanging suit bag. I tried not to think about Armand, either, about how I’d tell him I’d meant to choose between love and guilt but just ended up carrying both on my shoulders like heavy devils. Not that Armand would blame me. He was a romantic
and
a realist. Oh, yeah. “No problemo, bro,” he’d say. “Just cool your heels until I get out of the joint next month, and then we’ll hit Vegas.”

Yeah. Then the
problemo’s
would really start.

“Suck it up, Noleene,” I said out loud. “And get the hell out of town before Gracie shows up here and tries to do right by you. Unless you
like
bein’ treated
kindly
by a woman who doesn’t love you.”

If I hadn’t had a plane to catch in Atlanta I’d have sat down in a corner somewhere, and cried. I’ve always thought men shouldn’t feel funny about squawling. In prison, unloading a few tears at night had given me a kind of sanity and freedom. I could sure have used that sense of letting go, now.

“
Let her go
,” I said for emphasis. I threw my luggage into a rental car and turned to look at the big blue mountains in the distance. Looking toward the Downs. Toward Grace.

“
Au revoir, chere
,” I said. That was all I could manage. Otherwise, I’d need that corner.

My cell phone buzzed. I nearly ripped it from my belt, intending to turn the damned thing off, until I noticed the number on its screen. A Louisiana area code. The office of a nice old parish priest who ministered to the Catholic cons at Angola and anyone else who needed to bend his and God’s ears. A chill went through my gut.

“Father Roubeaux,” I said into the phone. “What’s happened to my brother?”

“I just found out. His parole came through a few weeks early. He didn’t want you to know. He got out two days ago. And he’s disappeared.”

“I’m on my way.”

A minute later I was driving toward Atlanta faster than any ex-con should drive with happy-go-lucky cops in the neighborhood. Fear clotted inside me.

Armand, what the hell are you trying to do for me?

“Armand Noleene got out of prison early and he’s disappeared? That makes no sense. He and Boone had plans. Why would Armand—”

“Mrs. Vance, I’m only telling you what I’ve been
told
to tell you.” A uniformed security man frowned at me from the doorway at Casa Senterra. By the gate, someone had removed the canvas cover from the Persimmon Hall plaque, restoring the grand old house to its former dignity. I stood on the veranda with G. Helen, Mika, and Roarke beside me. Persimmon Hall was eerily quiet. Stone, Diamond and their entire entourage were already on a private jet headed for L.A. News of the movie’s meltdown was all over Dahlonega and starting to hit the national entertainment news. Stone had fled in disgust.

I held out my hands to the guard. “Tex and Mojo must have passed along more information than
that
before they left with Mr. Senterra.”

The guard sighed. “Here’s all they said, ma’am: Armand Noleene left prison two days ago and hasn’t been seen, since. He’s already violated the terms of his parole by not checking in within the first 24 hours. Boone Noleene plans to talk to a prison priest who may have some clues, and then he’s going to look up some of his brother’s old friends for help.”

I froze. “Armand Noleen’s ‘old friends’ are almost all criminals.”

“That’s why Tex and Mojo told me to tell you to stay here. They said you can’t find Boone in the places he’s going and even if you could, he doesn’t
want
you to set foot near the people he’s going to deal with.”

“But—”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. That’s all I know.”

Mika stepped forward. Her green Vance eyes were large with worry. “Can you tell me anything about Leo Senterra? He was on his way to the movie set when everything happened this morning. Then he met with his dad and got. . .got
vaporized
, or something.”