Picture Perfect (30 page)

I look to Jennifer, whose eyes are like slits. Her face is red, and I can almost imagine steam coming from her ears. She seems less concerned about Rebecca’s welfare than she is about whatever the
grande dame
of cable television is presently spilling to a roomful of influential entertainment execs.

“I gave up everything you all take for granted,” Rebecca says, pointing out to the audience. “Marriage, family. There was no room for it in my life. Even when I wanted it so badly.”

Rebecca lowers her head, and covers her mouth with her hand.

“Are you all right,” I say, leaning in.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” She shakes off whatever it was that had choked her up and continues with her speech. “You see, I had the chance to have a family. That opportunity didn’t completely elude me. But being a single mother was not an option in 1967, especially if you wanted to be a success in showbiz.”

What the hell did she just say?

“So I did what any other young woman in my position would do back then.”

“Rebecca, that’s enough!” Jennifer says, ripping the mic from her hands. “We have an agreement.”

“What agreement? What’s going on?” I implore my mentor.

“Blackmail. Blackmail is what’s going on here, Lauren.” She points a bejeweled finger at Jennifer. “She can tell you all about it.”

I narrow my eyes at my former assistant. “What have you done now?”

She points a finger back at Rebecca. “You keep your mouth shut, old woman, or you’ll have more than just me to answer to.”

“Um, perhaps we should discuss this privately,” Wendy says, suddenly making herself useful.

“No!” Rebecca screams, snatching the mic out of Jennifer’s hands. “You won’t get away with this!”

And before Rebecca even puts the mic up to her mouth, Jennifer tackles her to the ground. Pearls go flying, as legs and arms flail and the two become entwined in an all out brawl.

“Stop, stop!” Wendy jumps in and tries to pull Jennifer off of Rebecca, but she gets brought down to her knees.

Soon several women are on stage, and while I stand gaping at the entire scene, Jennifer and Rebecca are separated. Blood trickles from Jennifer’s nose, her French twist all but a distant memory. Rebecca’s pearls litter the floor, and as she straightens her jacket, I notice a pin on her lapel that I’ve always known was there. A pin she has worn since the day I met her, no matter what she was wearing. Like a badge of honor, it’s been there staring me in the face all these years. A crystal star.

***

“You couldn’t just sign the papers, could you?” Jennifer screams at me as two police officers drag her out of the ballroom, literally kicking and screaming. “This is your fault! Yours!”

Wearily, I drop into a chair next to Rebecca who’s holding an ice pack to her head as a paramedic administers first aid to the many cuts and bruises she sustained during her scrap with Jennifer.

“I’m so sorry,” Rebecca says, reaching a hand out to me. “I never should have lied to you.”

“I don’t blame you,” I reply, taking her hand warmly in mine.

“It just got so complicated. I only wanted the best for you. And Alan.” She shakes her head. “Yes, I must take the blame for Alan. If I hadn’t given up on him. If I hadn’t been so selfish. Maybe he wouldn’t have resented me so much. Maybe he would have been a better man. A better husband to you.”

“It’s not your fault, Rebecca. I might have done the same thing back in 1967 if I had been in your situation.”

“No, dear. I know you wouldn’t have. I always knew you were a soft touch, as much as you tried to hide it. That’s why I thought you and Alan would make a good pair. You know, opposites and all that.”

I give her a weak smile.

“Okay, Ms. Walters,” the paramedic says. “I’ve treated your surface wounds, but we need to get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion. I’ll bring the gurney for you in just a moment.”

He packs up his first aid kit and leaves us. 

“At least my secret’s out,” she says to me, looking genuinely relieved. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to tell you, to tell the world.” She gazes off into the distance, as if remembering something. “I knew it the moment he first came in to read for a small role in a film I was producing. He was practically the spitting image of his father, and he had his cocky attitude to match. I put two and two together pretty quickly.”

I watch her carefully as she continues her tale, marveling at how her story would have made for a great Saturday night feature on Timeless Television.

“He was thirty then, and had been struggling as an actor for over a decade. I knew I could make a difference in his life, so I brought him on as an assistant. He took to the business like a duck to water, and I was so happy to have him back in my life. But you know I could never tell him the truth. He would have hated me for abandoning him.”

I nod, knowing how delicate Alan’s ego was.

“It wasn’t until you came to my house and told me what he was up to that I knew I had to step in. I had to tell him the truth. And, oh Lauren, he was so upset. He was even threatening to have me removed from Timeless.” She lowers her head. “All I wanted was for you two to have what I didn’t. Not to create a riff between you.”

“You gave him the crystal star, didn’t you?” I ask, eyeing the small replica on her lapel.

“Oh, I gave that to him when he earned his first promotion at Timeless. I knew giving up his dream of being an actor was not an easy one. I wanted him to know that he would always be a star in my heart,” she presses her palm to her chest. “Even if he didn’t quite know how much he truly meant to me. But you know Alan. He loved any sort of recognition,” she adds with a little laugh.

“And Jennifer? How did she get involved?”

“Oh, that little snit,” Rebecca says, looking at me with the same cold blue eyes that often stared me down inside the halls of Timeless Television, and a shiver snakes through my spine. “She uncovered my secret and threatened to reveal it if I didn’t give her your job.”

“How did she find out?” I ask, desperate to know just went down, and still wondering how Alan managed to wind up dead.

Rebecca fingers a diamond encrusted sapphire ring on her hand, her insecurities revealed in that tiny movement. “After the police left Timeless, Jennifer came to see me. The office was buzzing with the news of his death by then.”

“Go on,” I say, urging her to get to the good part already.

“It was in her callous disregard for my grief that I faltered. She didn’t give a damn about Alan. She didn’t care that he was gone. She was only concerned with manipulating the situation to get ahead. She was after your job and figured she could convince me that you should be fired since you were the obvious suspect.” Rebecca pauses and taps her lip with her index finger. “But I knew the truth, of course. And I was certain you would be cleared. I wasn’t going to let her make things any worse than they already were.”

My lips part slightly as a breath I was holding escapes. I stare intently at Rebecca, whose gaze is fixed on the sapphire ring around her left ring finger.

“But she is a stubborn girl and simply would not listen to reason. I was at the end of my tether. So, I reached for the closest thing at hand. A paperweight on my desk. And that’s when she knew.”

Rebecca lifts her eyes, and in them I can see her fragility. It’s clear to me now that the woman she presented to the outside world, the ruthless and power-hungry tyrant who lorded over the offices of Timeless Television like a despot, was just a woman desperate for approval. At any cost.

“But she didn’t want to go to the police. She just wanted to know why. And your job, of course. I never should have let things get that far. I should have turned myself in the moment it happened.”

I nod, the back of my throat tightening as all moisture vacates my mouth.

“I didn’t mean to do it, you know. He just refused to hear me. He wouldn’t let me explain. And the star was just right there. I picked it up, and, I threw it,” she says, her voice thin and reedy. “And he fell. And he didn’t get up.”

My breathing slows almost to a stop.

“I waited for a while. Certain the police would arrive any minute to arrest me, and when they didn’t show up, I left.”

I regard her curiously, wondering why she thought they would just arrive without a phone call. Was she expecting some psychic across town would just divine her crime while doing a crossword puzzle?

“And the next day, when they came to the office,” she continues, “I was sure they would arrest me then. But they weren’t interested in me. They were interested in you. Oh, I’m so sorry, Lauren,” she says, reaching for my hand. “I should have told them right then. Told them everything.”

 I spot the paramedic returning with the stretcher, and I pat her hand. “But you will tell them now, won’t you?”

“Yes,” she says, her spine straightening. “I will.”

 “Let’s go ma’am,” the paramedic says to Rebecca, offering his hand to her.

He helps her onto the gurney and I follow behind, numbly, as my mentor is rolled out of the ballroom and into the hotel lobby where several police officers are taking statements from guests who witnessed the brawl between Jennifer and Rebecca. She waves one of the cops over, and I’m slightly relieved to know she’s finally going to set the record straight.

I find Sally and Justine sitting at a round, rose-colored, tufted banquette. They both come to attention when they spot my slow approach, and Justine leaps to her feet. She wraps her arms around me, but I’m still frozen with the knowledge that the woman I’ve spent the past several years trying to impress at Timeless Television murdered my husband.

We both sit back down on the banquette and Sally asks, “Are you okay?”

“I guess. I’m just kind of in shock.”

“Did she confess?” Justine asks.

“Yeah, she did it.” I shake my head. “The weird thing is, she seems more upset that she lied to me than she does for killing him. I mean, how can she believe that lying about a murder is worse than committing a murder?”

“Well, it was probably an accident,” Justine suggests. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to do it.”

I nod, still unable to fathom the fact that Rebecca could take the life of her only child.

“She’s an old lady,” Sally adds. “Maybe she didn’t really understand what she was doing.”

I look to Sally. “It would be nice to think that, but no. She knew. And, Sally, I’m sorry. Sorry for suspecting you.”

She gives me a half smile. “It’s okay. You were under a lot of pressure.”

“Thanks for being so understanding.”

“Listen,” Justine says, “this has been one hell of a day. I don’t know about you guys, but I could use a drink. And a hotel this swanky has got to have some pretty fabulous cocktails. What do you say we get liquored up and let the police sort out the rest of this mess?”

“The police,” I say. “Oh, God. Jack. He turned himself in this morning. He must hate me.”

Dread dips into my belly and sourness fills my mouth. I treated Jack so unfairly. He did nothing but support me completely, and all I did was push him away. And accuse him of murder.

“I have a feeling he’s a forgiving kind of man,” Justine says in an effort to buoy my sinking spirit. “Come on. There’s a barstool with your name on it.”

“Okay,” I agree, halfheartedly. I have a feeling no amount of alcohol can wash away the sins of this day. 

Chapter 24

The sun is bright on this Saturday morning, and despite the chilly temperature, I’m starting to feel a little warm under my wool coat. I loosen a couple buttons and allow the crisp winter air to cool my skin. Behind my dark sunglasses, my eyes are pink and puffy. Even though Alan and I weren’t on good terms at the end, he was still my husband. I still cared about him. And as his dark mahogany coffin is lowered into the ground next to his parents, I can’t help but cry.

Justine squeezes my hand, and a lump forms in my throat. I could not have gotten through the past couple weeks without her. A tear slips down my cheek, and I dash it away quickly.

“It’s okay to let them see you cry,” Tanya whispers into my ear. She’s still trying to salvage my reputation in the industry.

As ruthless as Tanya is, I have to thank her for managing all the little details that would have been completely overwhelming. After Rebecca confessed to killing Alan, Tanya worked hard to get the charges against her reduced to manslaughter, and even helped arrange a plea agreement for her. Rebecca will spend at least a decade in prison, and then she’ll live out the rest of her life on parole with an ankle monitor. I almost feel sorry for her. I guess it was out of loyalty to her that I put Tanya on her case.

And once that was settled there was still the matter of Jennifer. She had her father’s help in knocking down charges of assault, extortion and obstruction of justice so that all she got in the end was a slap on the wrist and two years probation. I was really hoping to see her scrawny butt behind bars. But it is a little satisfying knowing that her horrid behavior didn’t go completely unpunished. I’m sure she’ll be back, though. Somehow, someday, I have no doubt she’ll be at some production office in the valley, slowly working her way back up the showbiz ladder.

But it won’t be my office. Even though Timeless Television offered me Rebecca’s job, with many apologies for her killing my husband, I turned them down. One thing I learned from this whole ordeal is that I don’t want to keep working for someone else. I want to blaze my own trail. So, I’m in the midst of setting up myself as an independent producer.  It’ll be a small operation, and I’ve only got the funds to hire one employee as of yet. Sally was thrilled when I asked her to join me.

Tanya is assisting me with Alan’s estate. As his only kin (well, his only kin who didn’t murder him) both the Malibu home and our Westwood condo now belong solely to me. And with Tanya’s help, I’ll be selling those and moving into a quiet little bungalow near Venice beach, which will serve as both my home and my new production office.

It’s a little scary stepping out on my own without the security of a fancy title and the big paycheck that comes with it, but I’m hoping all my successes in the industry (and the fact I’ve been cleared of Alan’s murder) will garner me some respect from the big boys who rule the playground. I already have pitch meetings set up at Paramount and Sony Studios for a few projects I’ve had tucked in my back pocket. It’s possible I got those meetings based off the sheer celebrity status I’ve earned over this whole drama with Rebecca and Alan, but I don’t care. I’m going to make it work for me. It’s about time the gossip mill gets put to some good use.