Bookman Dead Style Read online

  “Have you and Chester ever talked about future plans for the shop?”

  “Not really. I think we both thought I’d just handle things after he’s gone—but I can’t bear to think about that—and by the time I’m gone, if I’m lucky to have a long life, I suppose, either the world will have no idea what typewriters and printing presses are or we will have unplugged and they will both become popular again. As long as I’m alive, I’ll be at the shop, that’s for sure.”

  Seth nodded, but there was something about his moonlit profile that made me do a double take. “Wait, you’re not leaving, are you?”

  He smiled at me quickly before turning his attention back to the winding mountain road ahead. “No, not for a very long time. I just signed a two-year contract for my Star City job.”

  “Two years isn’t that long,” I said.

  “No, but there will be more years offered. That’s just how it works with the projects I’m doing. Funding isn’t always a sure thing, particularly more than a couple years into the future. I was offered this contract and something in New Mexico. I took this one.”

  “I didn’t know you had the other offer.”

  He waved it away, but then put his hand back onto the steering wheel. “I didn’t even think about taking it. I like Star City much better than I would New Mexico, even though it’s a pretty enchanted state.”

  I wanted to ask if part of the reason he signed the local contract had anything to do with me, but the question seemed way too needy. I didn’t have to ask.

  “I couldn’t leave now even if I didn’t like my cute apartment and the great mountain views. There’s this girl . . . ,” he said.

  “Wow, that made my night even more than the rose and this fancy Hollywood party we’re going to.”

  “Well, we’ll see,” Seth said.

  After the next curve in the road we were transported into a world of bigness. It was a word I frequently used to describe the expensive and expansive places and things around Star City. It was no secret that the town was a mountain haven, a getaway for a number of the rich and famous. Mountain houses, grand hotels built with ski-slope accessibility right outside back doors or off multileveled and heated decks. Bigness wasn’t everywhere in Star City, but it could easily be found.

  A house directly from the world of bigness loomed above us, built into and onto the side of a mountain and certainly requiring some engineering logistics I would never comprehend. The moon and stars had been hung perfectly in the cloudless dark sky and they illuminated the wide multi-chalet-peaked dark structure as if a lighting designer had been involved. It was amazing what money could do.

  “Is that one house?” Seth asked.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “Whose is it?”

  “I’m not sure. There are a number of big names with places around here. I’m just not one to ever be invited over to get to know them.”

  “Magic ticket tonight, I guess,” Seth said.

  He pulled the car onto a wide cobblestoned half-circle driveway in front of the house.

  “Welcome,” a gentleman dressed in a tuxedo said as he peered into Seth’s open window. “We’ll be happy to take care of your vehicle.”

  “Where do you park the cars?” I said as I looked around. There was only one other car in sight. A Rolls-Royce was parked along the far curve of the driveway. I wondered if it was just there for show. Its wide body seemed old in the moonlight, a shout-out to a time when lots of famous people rode in the back of their Rolls-Royces, their drivers a bigger part of their lives than they were these days.

  “We have parking underneath.” He smiled and nodded to the open mouth of space behind him.

  “There’s a parking garage built into the mountain and under the house?”

  “Yes, miss. A big one.” The shine in one of his moonlit eyes dimmed briefly as he winked.

  “I see,” I said.

  He opened Seth’s door as mine swung open too. Another man in a tuxedo held it wide and extended his hand.

  I looked at him. “I’m a little wedged in. The dress is tight.”

  “Not to worry,” my tuxedo man said. “I’ve got plenty of experience. If I hold your hand right here, you’ll be able to swing your ankles. There you go. Now, I’ll take both your hands and you’ll be able to stand up easily.”

  His instructions were spot-on, and a second later I’d been successfully plucked out of the car.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “My pleasure.” He swept his hand toward a space to the side of the garage. “The entrance is over there. You’ll come upon an elevator that will take you up to the party.”

  “Thank you.”

  I slipped my arm through Seth’s after he handed over his car keys and we moved toward the elevator. The clear sky and the higher altitude made the temperature up here even more icy frigid than what it was in town. We made foggy clouds with our breath and echoes as our fancy shoes clacked along the stones. The tip of my nose tingled with the exposure. Both of our glasses would need some adjustment time.

  “Welcome,” another man in a tuxedo said as he held the elevator door open. “Climb aboard.”

  “Where is everybody?” I said. I’d looked into the depths of the parking area, but it was too dark to see anything but more dark.

  “People will come and go all night. I just dropped off a party of five above. I’m sure there will be more when I come back down.”

  I nodded, noticing that neither Seth’s nor my glasses had fogged. Impressive. Either we hadn’t been outside long enough or the magic of the night had sprinkled some extra dust on us.

  The plush elevator, decked out in red velvet and faux gold trimmings, took off smoothly. Each of the side walls was made of mirrors, and the back wall was a collage of movie posters. As I glanced over them, I began to think I knew just whom this elevator, house, and parking garage, and all these tuxedo people, belonged to.

  However, I thought it would be terrible form to ask where we were. I nudged Seth so he’d look at the posters too. The elevator man pretended not to notice.

  “Oh,” Seth said a moment later. “Oh?”

  I nodded.

  The elevator man smiled. “Yes, it’s his house. He’s a terrific fellow, though I’m not sure I agree with all his politics.”

  “I didn’t know he came to the festival. I’ve never heard about his attendance.”

  He laughed. “No, he doesn’t attend many of the festival events. He’d be too much of a distraction. He lives here. You’ll find his helicopter pad just on the other side of the mountaintop. He works in California, but is here more than not.”

  “I had no idea,” I said.

  “This is exactly how you learn about all this. You get invited to the party.”

  “I’ve never heard about the party,” I said.

  “There’s a reason for that. You’ll find out momentarily.”

  The elevator stopped without a jolt and the doors opened, bringing a tidal wave of noises and scents that were so intimidating that I took an extra second to step out.

  “I think we found the party,” Seth said above the music and chatter.

  A woman appeared in front of us. She was dressed in a black dress that fit her petite frame as though it were made for her. Her regal but friendly attitude belied her size, and her long brown ponytail was smooth, her makeup perfect.

  “Come on in,” she said with a wave of bright red polish on short manicured nails. “We’re happy to have you here. I’ll take your wrap if you’d like.”

  I swung the wrap off my shoulders and handed it to her. She put it over her arm.

  “May I have your invitation and your names?”

  I handed her the piece of paper Matt had given me, and she smiled when we told her our names. She neither wrote them down nor looked them up on any list, but nodded
as if she’d successfully saved the information in her memory bank.

  “Ms. Henry, Mr. Cassidy, welcome to the party. We ask that you enjoy yourselves, stay the night, or let one of our staff drive you home if you have too much fun. Do not take any pictures. We cherish the secrecy of these parties. Please don’t later tell anyone you attended or the location of the house. You will be invited every year from here on out if you keep your attendance to yourselves, and believe me, we know when our party attendees don’t.”

  Seth and I nodded in agreement.

  “Excellent. Then, by all means, have a great time. Don’t be afraid to approach anyone. Though we don’t allow pictures, only those who are willing to mingle are invited back.”

  “Thank you.”

  She nodded and walked toward a space I assumed was the coat check.

  “Wow,” Seth said.

  “I know. Wow.”

  “This is Flint Magnum’s house?” Seth said.

  “It appears that way.”

  “He has some of the best movie lines of all time.”

  “I know.”

  I didn’t know if Flint Magnum was his real name or not, but it didn’t seem likely. He’d been a leading man for four decades, if I was calculating correctly, starring mostly in action movies and Westerns. He was a tough guy, handsome, and he usually seemed to be carrying some sort of firearm. And frequently shooting it at bad guys.

  I had no idea he had a secret mansion in the hills above Star City, but I knew of his reputation as a real-life good guy who put his money into conservative politicians as well as liberal causes. He was one of the founders of a big organization that took medical supplies to remote and violent places in Africa. I didn’t know if it had been done strictly for PR, but I remembered seeing pictures of him there amid the violence, helping as he saw fit.

  Flint Magnum. No one could possibly be immune to his celebrity, could they? Including myself.

  We stepped into a large hall decorated with crystal chandeliers, an ice-cream-swirl patterned marble floor, and a few well-placed white pillars, oddly harkening back to Greek and Roman times but somehow fitting in with the other lush details. Tiered buffet tables lined the right wall, and a band reminding me of the Beatles took up space along the left wall.

  The big crowd wasn’t unmanageable, but my eyes were so busy trying to take everything in at once that at first I missed details. I knew all the attendees were dressed nicely, but I didn’t catch exactly who everyone was.

  Until my eyes landed on one very familiar figure.

  “No way,” I said.

  “What?” Seth said as he followed my glance.

  “Look who’s here,” I said.

  Seth looked where I was looking. “Chester?”

  “Yep.”

  I didn’t mean to abandon Seth, but my duty became singular. I wanted to find out what my grandfather was doing at the secret party, and why he’d kept the secret from even me.

  20

  “Clare! Hello, my dear. I wondered if you’d ever receive an invitation.”

  “Hi, Chester. Ramona,” I said.

  “Hi, darlin’,” she said with her thick Southern drawl.

  “You look gorgeous,” I said.

  “Oh, this old thing.” She laughed as she took on a quick model pose, showing off her slightly curvy figure, which was cloaked in a conservative but somehow sexy red dress. The dress stopped just above her knees and she’d managed to find flat shoes that were perfect for it. Her sharp features—nose, chin, cheeks—combined well with her head of long dark hair, which was currently piled atop her head. She was lovely. And the more you talked to her, the more beautiful she became. Her kind heart showed through all the time. She was just the woman my grandma would have wanted Chester to find.

  She and my grandfather made a great couple, in the way that opposites attract. They were both widowed, but that’s about where their commonalities ended. Ramona was from Georgia and Chester from Star City. He’d thought he’d never find another love after my grandmother died ten years earlier. But Ramona and he had clicked and seemed to be surprised by how different they were, so much so that they were fascinated with each other and wanted to see what they might discover next.

  “You are as lovely as a bluebell dipped in snow,” Ramona said after she gave me a quick once-over.

  I didn’t think I’d ever heard a cooler compliment. “Thank you.”

  “And, Seth, gracious, you would never know how completely nerdy you can be.” She whistled. “Handsome devil.”

  “Thank you, Ramona.” Seth laughed too and winked at me.

  “Chester, how long have you been coming to these parties?” I asked.

  “About six years,” he said. “Flint came into the shop one day and asked me about some old Underwood he had. He wore a hat and sunglasses, but I knew who he was. Years ago he did that movie about Wyatt Earp. I started to bring up some facts from Earp’s day that I knew, and we talked for about an hour. Surprised as could be when I got the invitation. Been wanting to tell you about it for years, but the whole secrecy thing can’t be ignored.”

  “I guess not,” I said.

  “I got my own invitation, if you’re wondering,” Ramona said. “My dead husband had all kinds of connections. Chester’s my date. I had to ask him. His ticket was so old that it didn’t have a ‘plus-one’ part. I just got my ticket, because I moved to town within the last year.”

  “Look, there’s Flint,” Seth said as casually as possible.

  Flint Magnum walked directly toward us. He wore a black cowboy hat, a denim shirt, white jeans, and white cowboy boots with gold toes. And he wore it all well. He was probably the only person in the universe who could.

  “Chester Henry, always good to see you,” he said as he pulled Chester into a genuine hug.

  My eyes were big as I watched the scene. Flint even knew who Chester was. How was that possible?

  “Thanks for the party invite, Flint. It’s always great to see you. This is my lady, Ramona, my granddaughter, Clare, and her date, Seth.”

  “Ramona, I knew your late husband. Fine man.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Good to have you here.”

  Flint shook my hand and Seth’s, giving us each a moment of eye contact (his were such a pretty blue), looking at us like he was memorizing our names.

  “Welcome to the party,” Flint said to us all with a dazzling smile that couldn’t possibly have been natural even though it didn’t look the least bit phony. “Make yourself at home. Eat. Drink. Be merry.” He looked at me again. “You work with Chester?”

  “I do.”

  “I thought you looked familiar.”

  “You’ve been in the store recently?” I said, but then I realized my faux pas. If Flint had come into the store, I would have remembered him. I should have. Anyone would have.

  “You wouldn’t have recognized me, but, yes, I’ve been in. I’m a master of disguise. You’ve always been friendly. Thank you.”

  “Thank you! I mean, good. I mean . . .”

  Flint laughed. “Are you the one working on my book?”

  I blinked.

  “The Muir book, dear,” Chester said with a wink.

  “Yes! I am. It’s a wonderful project.”

  “Ah! Good to hear. We’ll talk soon, but I’m off to greet others. Have a fun night.”

  And then he walked away. My imagination concocted dust flying up from the heels of his boots, but those boots had probably never seen and never would see a speck of dust.

  “Nice young man,” Ramona said, with an eyebrow lift in my direction. Flint wasn’t young, but I got what she was saying.

  We might both be with our cherished menfolk, but there was just something about Flint that would always be cause for raised eyebrows.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Set
h said, giving us all a chuckle.

  “Y’all should check out the buffet,” Ramona said. “There’s food there I don’t even know how to pronounce, but there’s also some that’s familiar and delicious. I swear, I grabbed one of those mini weenies and another one appeared in its place before I could even finish chewing. They won’t let anyone go home hungry or thirsty around this place. Signs of a good host.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Seth said as he swung his arm around me. “Hungry?”

  “I am. We’ll talk to you later,” I said to Chester and Ramona, sending Chester my own wink. We’d talk more about the Muir book.

  The crowd had grown, so we carefully wove our way over to the buffet table. On the way, I saw three young actresses I recognized but couldn’t attach names to. It would come to me at some point, but I knew that one was typically well behaved, while the other two had taken their celebrity in the predictable direction and were always portrayed as big partyers with the desire to wear less and less clothing as their fame grew. I watched them walk by and thought they all seemed perfectly lovely, sober enough, and dressed so that they were mostly covered up. I made a mental note to look for them later, more toward the end of the evening.

  Just before we reached the buffet tables, a body nudged me as we passed.

  “Excuse me,” we both said.

  “Adele!” I said. “Hello.”

  She blinked at me as if she was trying to place me. Her black dress was without sleeves and would have reminded me of the Roaring Twenties if she hadn’t also worn heavy black work boots. Her hair was spiky and her makeup thick with eyeliner. Honestly, she didn’t look terrible. She pulled it off well, but the look screamed so loudly with her ever apparent angst that I stifled a frustrated sigh.

  “Hello,” she said a second later and with an abbreviated smile. “Hello,” she said to Seth with the same smile.

  “You doing okay?” I said.

  “I’m fine. Thanks for asking. See you later.”

  As she walked away, I wondered if she had a twin. Had the woman I’d seen at the diner, the one who seemed to want to listen in on my conversation with Jodie and then talk to me, not been Adele? If she didn’t have a twin, were her personality differences part of her youthful angst? Who knew what really went on with anyone?