Rachel read the scene. It was about a wife asking her husband for a divorce. Rachel read it again.
"I'm ready."
Rachel was introduced to Kevin Webster, who was going to play opposite her - a handsome young man in the Hollywood mold.
"All right," Roderick Marshall said. "Let's shoot it. Camera. Action."
Rachel looked at Kevin Webster. "I talked to a divorce lawyer this morning, Cliff."
"I heard about it. Shouldn't you have talked to me first?"
"I did talk to you about it. I've talked to you about it for the last year. We don't have a marriage anymore. You just weren't listening, Jeff."
"Cut," Roderick said. "Rachel, his name is Cliff."
Rachel said, embarrassed, "I'm so sorry."
"Let's go again. Take two."
The scene really is about Jeff and me, Rachel thought. We don't have a marriage anymore. How could we? We live separate lives. We hardly see each other. We both meet attractive people, but we can't get involved because of a contract that no longer means anything.
"Rachel!"
"Sorry."
The scene began again.
By the time Rachel finished the test, she had made two decisions: She did not belong in Hollywood.
And she wanted a divorce...
Now, lying in bed in Rio, feeling ill and exhausted, Rachel thought, I made a mistake. I never should have divorced Jeff.
Tuesday when Kemal finished school, Dana took him to the therapist who was working with Kemal and his new arm. The artificial arm looked real and functioned well, but it was difficult for Kemal to get used to it, both physically and psychologically.
"It will feel like he's attached to a foreign object," the therapist had explained to Dana. "Our job is to get him to accept it as a part of his own body. He has to get used to being ambidextrous again. There's usually a two- to three-month learning period. I must warn you that it can be a very difficult time."
"We can handle it," Dana assured him.
It was not that easy. The following morning Kemal walked out of the study without his prosthesis. "I'm ready."
Dana looked at him in surprise. "Where's your arm, Kemal?"
Kemal raised his left hand defiantly. "Here it is."
"You know what I mean. Where's your prosthesis?"
"It's freak. I won't wear it anymore."
"You'll get used to it, darling. I promise. You have to give it a chance. I'll help you to - "
"No one can help me. I'm afukati cripple..."
Dana went to see Detective Marcus Abrams again. When Dana walked in, Abrams was at his desk busily filling out reports. He looked up, scowling.
"You know what I hate about this damned job?" He indicated the pile of papers. "This. I could be out on the street having fun shooting perps. Oh, I forgot. You're a reporter, aren't you? Don't quote me."
"Too late."
"And what can I do for you today, Miss Evans?"
"I came to ask about the Sinisi case. Has there been an autopsy?"
"Pro forma." He took out some papers from his desk drawer.
"Was there anything suspicious in the report?"
She watched Detective Abrams scan the paper. "No alcohol...no drugs...No." He looked up. "It looks like the lady was depressed and just decided to end it all. That it?"
"That's it," Dana said.
Dana's next stop was Detective Phoenix Wilson's office.
"Good morning, Detective Wilson."
"And what brings you to my humble office?"
"I wondered whether there was any news on Gary Winthrop's murder."
Detective Wilson sighed and scratched the side of his nose. "Not one damn thing. I would have thought that by now one of those paintings would have turned up. That's what we've been counting on."
Dana wanted to say, I wouldn't if I were you, but she held her tongue. "No clues of any kind?"
"Not a thing. The bastards got away clean as a whistle. We don't have too many art thefts, but the MO is almost always the same. That's what's so surprising."
"Surprising?"
"Yeah. This one is different."
"Different...how?"
"Art thieves don't kill unarmed people, and there was no reason for these guys to shoot down Gary Winthrop in cold blood." He stopped. "Do you have any special interest in this case?"
"No," Dana lied. "Not at all. Just curious. I - "
"Right," Detective Wilson said. "Keep in touch."
At the end of a meeting in General Booster's office at the secluded the FRA headquarters, the general turned to Jack Stone and asked, "What's happening with the Evans woman?"
"She's going around asking questions, but I think it's harmless. She's not getting anywhere."
"I don't like her snooping around. Kick it up to a code three."
"When do you want it to start?"
"Yesterday."
Dana was in the middle of preparing for the next broadcast when Matt Baker walked into her office and sank into a chair.
"I just got a phone call about you."
Dana said lightly, "My fans can't get enough of me, can they?"
"This one's had enough of you."
"Oh?"
"The call was from the FRA. They're asking you to stop your investigation of Taylor Winthrop. Nothing official. Just what they called a friendly suggestion. Looks like they want you to mind your own business."
"It does, doesn't it?" Dana said. She locked eyes with Matt. "It makes you wonder why, doesn't it? I'm not backing away from the story because some government agency wants me to. It started in Aspen, where Taylor and his wife were killed in the fire. I'm going there first. And if there's something there, it should be a great kickoff story forCrime Line. "