“They’re not really married,” Bess reminded her friends. “Those are just their roles in the show.”
Sensing a pause in the argument, Bess said, “Mr. Leonard . . .”
Will Leonard looked up. “Yeah?” he said sourly.
Bess caught her breath. “Uh . . . hello. I like your show.”
Without answering, Will took a photograph of Sally and himself off the top of the pile and scrawled his name. He shoved it across the table at Bess.
“Would it be too much trouble to ask you for a special dedication?” asked Bess.
“The only thing I’m dedicated to is getting this stupid thing over with,” said Will. “Who’s next?” he called, looking over Bess’s shoulder.
Nancy put an arm around Bess’s shoulder. “I am,” she said, looking Will Leonard straight in the eye. “But after the way you talked to my friend, I don’t want your autograph.”
“Me neither,” said George. The three girls started to walk away.
“Wait a minute,” Sally Belmont called after them. The girls turned around. The beautiful star was looking at them with her famous blue eyes. In person they were even bluer than on TV. Her long black hair was draped over one shoulder like a band of satin.
“I’d like to apologize for my co-star’s rudeness,” said Sally. “We’ve both been under a lot of pressure lately. Getting to this convention has been nothing but one foul-up after another.”
“Foul-ups for me, you mean,” Will fumed. “Wait till I get my hands on Peter Thornton. He’s dead meat.”
“Will, calm down,” said Sally, taking another picture from the pile. “What’s your name, hon?” she asked Bess.
“Bess Marvin.”
“Well, Bess, is there anything special you’d like me to write?”
Bess shrugged. “I don’t care,” she said. Nancy could tell her friend was still upset.
Sally spent a full minute writing, then handed the photograph to Bess.
“Thanks,” Bess said without enthusiasm, starting to walk away with Nancy and George.
“Wait,” Sally said. “I can’t let three of our fans leave feeling so badly about the show. Tell you what. Why don’t you three come up to my room later this afternoon for a visit?”
“Oh, brother.” Will rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you invite the whole convention? I’m sure there’s room for everybody in the Presidential Suite.”
“Ignore him,” said Sally. “Let’s say, four o’clock? Room Twelve-oh-four.” She smiled warmly at the girls.
Bess’s eyes opened wide. “You want us to come to your room?”
“Unless you have other plans,” Sally said.
“Other plans. . . .” Bess repeated, disbelievingly. She turned to George and Nancy. “Sally Belmont invites us to her room and she thinks I’ve got something better to do?”
Bess turned back to Sally and gave her a big grin. “We’ll be there.”
• • •
Two hours later the girls stood in the quiet, carpeted hallway outside Sally Belmont’s room. Nancy knocked on the door.
“I can’t believe she actually invited us up here,” said Bess. “It almost makes me happy Will Leonard turned out to be such a jerk.”
There was no answer, so Nancy knocked again and the door opened slightly. Pushing the door in farther, Nancy peered into the brightly lit marble foyer.
“Hello?” Nancy called, but there was no answer. “Ms. Belmont?” Nancy called in a louder voice.
There was still no answer.
Nancy stepped into the room. Bess and George followed her inside.
“Look at that,” Nancy said, pointing to the floor. Two thin black skid marks cut two curving lines across the marble surface.
Nancy looked up. Straight ahead, at the end of the hall, was a living room. There were two bedrooms facing each other across the hall. Nancy noticed that the door to one of the bedrooms was hanging at a crazy angle. Nancy hurried to the bedroom. All the dresser drawers had been dumped on the floor, clothes were everywhere, and chairs and tables were overturned.
Bess and George joined Nancy in the doorway.
“What a mess!” Bess exclaimed. “What happened?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Nancy replied grimly.
Then she spotted a piece of paper pinned to the center of the bedspread. She picked her way through the mess and unpinned the note.
“What does it say?” asked George.
Nancy read the note aloud:
