Murder at the Academy Awards (R): A Red Carpet Murder Mystery by Joan Rivers, Jerrilyn Farmer Read Free Book Online Page B

in a heap in front of us. And what I wanted was to simply save myshow for one more year. And all that could have been accomplished if they hadn’t turned off the camera.
    “Oh, Mom,” Drew said, her face ashen.
    “No,” I yelled. “No, no, no! Those idiots! Didn’t they understand? We had news tonight! Look, I have a big heart. I would never wish an alcoholic relapse on anyone, but if Halsey chose to have one on live television, on my red carpet, it’s goddamned news.” I shook my head in disbelief. “We had the most stunning interview in the history of interviews, and they blew it. We had Halsey Hamilton, live.”
    In a nanosecond the dreams evaporated: I saw a stack of bills. My old coat. A little house in the South Bronx.
    “But you had her, Max,” said Cindy, throwing her note cards down on the ground, kicking off her high heels, still proud. “Whether you used her or not, you had her, and I got her.”
    “Mom,” Drew said, her voice hushed. “Maybe it’s best that we let Halsey have some privacy after all.”
    “Honey, don’t you think I wish she’d been sober? But the fact is America’s troubled sweetheart was breaking down, the poor, unhappy child, on live TV, and our director, that idiot, that jerk, that ignoramus, he actually cut us off? I’m gonna kill myself.”
    “Mom, calm down. Calm down,” Drew said.
    “Don’t tell me to calm down. America lost its only chance to view what really happened to Halsey just as she collapsed. And those idiots in the booth lost what would have been their biggest ratings ever.”
    Danny shook his head. “No red light, no feed. And no feed, no backup videotape in the truck.”
    I shook my head in utter frustration.
    Drew started to cry.
    “It’s okay,” I said, patting her hand. My dear girl knew what a bitter blow this network blunder had turned into. I pinched her cheek and smiled. “We’ve had bigger idiots do stupider things, haven’t we? And we’ve always survived.” I looked at my little group of staff, hoping they understood. “I’m just getting that awful feeling I sometimes get.”
    “Indigestion?” asked Malulu.
    “No.”
    “Restless leg syndrome?” Malulu guessed.
    “No!”
    “What feeling, Mom?” Drew asked.
    “About what happened to Halsey.”
    Drew nodded. “Me too. After all she did to get clean and sober, what could have gotten into Halsey?”
    “You saw,” I said, shaking my head sadly. “Another misstep.”
    “But drinking? On the night of the Oscars? Even Halsey would never ever do anything that foolish,” Drew said. “I was so sure of it.”
    “People fool us,” I said. Then I thought of that poor girl, probably in a hospital emergency room, cold and all alone when she came to. Or maybe cold and all alone and just…getting colder.
    “Drewie, I was just wondering. Do you know where Burke is tonight?”
    “What?” Her delicate chin turned sharply. “What about Burke?”
    “This is not a big thing. I’m only asking. When you and Burke broke up this last time, didn’t you tell me he was going away?”
    “Don’t get on Burke’s case, of all things, Mother. He just took some time to sort out his issues.”
    “What issues? He’s a good-looking boy with not enough talent for making a living.”
    “Why are you starting on Burke, again?”
    “Something came up. Actually, I need to talk to him.”
    “Really?” Drew brightened a little.
    Did she think I wanted to talk him into getting back together with her? Oh, my God, no!
    She added, “He may be at one of the Oscar after-parties.”
    “Perfect.” Drew and I try to get to most of the big studio parties. With our names on those precious guest lists at the door, we go in, circle the room once, sip a bit of wine, and connect with as many stars as we can. Once you’ve met socially, it’s hard for them not to talk to you on the carpet. “Which party?”
    Drew gave me a small shrug. “Vanity Fair.”
    I cursed. That was the one party, out of all the