Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Barbara Colley is an award-winning author whose books have been published in sixteen foreign languages. A native of Louisiana, she lives with her family in a suburb of New Orleans. Besides writing and sharing her stories, she loves strolling through the historical New Orleans French Quarter and Garden District, which inspired the setting for her Charlotte La Rue mystery series, Readers can write to Barbara at P.O. Box 290, Boutte, LA 70039.

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DUSTED TO DEATH

KENSINGTON BOOKS

Chapter One

"Hey, Charlotte, I've got some good news and some bad news. Then, I've got some more good news."

Charlotte bit back a groan of impatience. Bitsy Duh, an elderly lady, was a longtime client. Her phone call had come smack in the middle of Charlotte's search for an article that she'd cut out of the newspaper. The article in the Times-Picayune listed the upcoming Fourth of July celebrations going on in the Greater New Orleans area, and Charlotte wanted to check out the different locations again before she settled on the one she had in mind.

"Bitsy, can I call you back in a few minutes?" Charlotte tucked the telephone receiver between her chin and shoulder to free her hands so that she could continue sorting through the stack of papers on her desk.

"This won't take long," Bitsy responded sharply, her tone petulant. "Besides, I don't have all day to sit around and wait for you to call me back."

And I do? Charlotte closed her eyes and counted to ten before speaking again. Truth be known, other than staying on the phone gossiping, watching her soap operas, and going to her many doctors' appointments, sitting around all day was exactly all that Bitsy had to do. Knowing how Bitsy could pout, though, she figured that she might as well let Bitsy have her say or Charlotte would never hear the end of it. "So what's the good news?" Charlotte asked.

"Oh, Charlotte, you'll never guess."

No, and I don't want to. Charlotte bit her tongue to keep from saying the words out loud, and guilt for being so impatient with the old lady reared its ugly head.

"They want to use my house."

Charlotte's brow furrowed. "They?"

"Mega Films-you know-the production company that's shooting that movie here in the Garden District, the one starring Hunter Lansky and Angel Martinique."

Hunter Lansky! Charlotte's mouth gaped open. Hunter Lansky was one of her all-time favorite actors. Why, even the mention of his name immediately conjured up his handsome image in her mind.

"Two days ago," Bitsy continued, "a man knocked on my door and said he was Mega Films' location manager and that he wanted to use my house for a movie. Then, yesterday, he came back with three other men, including the producer and the director. Can't remember what the fourth man's title was. Anyway, they're willing to pay me a boatload of money and said they'd put me up in the hotel of my choice while they shoot the scenes they need. I'm thinking that maybe I'd like to stay at the Monteleone. I've always thought it might be fun to live in the French Quarter-temporarily, of course."

"Why, Bitsy, that's terrific."

Louisiana, and the Greater New Orleans area in particular, was quickly becoming known as Hollywood South. Though the movie industry was good for the economy since they used locals, Charlotte had mixed feelings about the so-called Hollywood invasion. Still, it was exciting. Why, just earlier she'd read an article that mentioned that in addition to the movie starring Hunter Lansky, several more movies were scheduled for production over the next few months. She'd even had to take a different route to work the day before since part of St. Charles Avenue had been blocked off for filming. Could that be the one Bitsy was talking about?

"Yeah, I was all excited at first," Bitsy continued, "but here's the bad news. I could hardly sleep last night for thinking about it, and now I'm not so sure. I can always use a bit of extra money, but just the thought of all those strangers traipsing in and out of my house makes me nervous. Why, no telling what they'll do to my stuff."

And what on earth does this have to do with me? Charlotte thought impatiently.

Still searching through the stack of articles, Charlotte sighed. "Granted, I don't know a lot about this type of thing, Bitsy, but I would think that they would be extra careful when they use someone's home." She suddenly spied the Fourth of July article and set it aside. She should have known that it would be near the bottom of the stack.

"You're probably right," Bitsy went on, oblivious of anything but her own agenda. "But just to make sure, I called them bright and early this morning and told them that I want you to be there."

"You did what?"

"Well, I would have asked that young man, Dale, who you've got working for me, but since he's decided to get his master's degree, I knew he wouldn't have time."

And I do? Bitsy's audacity never ceased to amaze Charlotte.

"There would be some cleaning involved," Bitsy continued. "But between you and me, your job would mostly be to watch over my stuff. So-and this is the other good news-I insisted that they hire you to keep the house clean and organized during the shooting, and they've agreed. And guess how much they're willing to pay you for the two weeks that they'll be shooting?"

Without waiting for a response, Bitsy blurted out, "Five-thousand dollars. And believe me, I had to negotiate with them to get that much. Pretty nice, huh?"

For several moments Charlotte was speechless. No wonder making movies cost so much money. Once she finally found her voice, she said, "Ah, Bitsy, I-I appreciate the offer-I really do-and the money is unbelievable, but I do have other clients, you know. I can't just take off for that long without prior notice."

"That's what this is!" Bitsy exclaimed. "I'm giving you prior notice. And before you say no, don't forget who's starring in the movie."

Hunter Lansky and Angel Martinique. How could she forget? In spite of herself, Charlotte felt a tingle of anticipation at the chance to actually meet Hunter Lansky. Just say no ... just say no. Ignoring her inner voice of reason, Charlotte hesitated. The money would be really nice and certainly more than her maid service would bring in for the two weeks. It would also be more than enough to finally have the twins' portrait done. Now that her little grandbabies were finally crawling and sitting up by themselves, they were the perfect age for a portrait.

Besides, the publicity for Maid-for-a-Day would be great, and this might be the only opportunity you'll ever get to meet Hunter Lansky.

Charlotte felt her face grow warm. Hunter Lansky had been the first movie star that she'd ever had a crush on. By now he had to be at least sixty-eight, five years older than Charlotte. She knew that because, ever since she'd been a lovesick teenager, she'd followed his career through the years. He'd been twenty when his career had taken off, and she'd collected all of the tabloid articles and pictures printed about him, not to mention seeing all of his films at least twice.

Knowing she would probably regret asking, she said, "How much prior notice are you giving me?"

"Then you'll do it?"

"Bitsy, how much prior notice?" she repeated.

"They start shooting two days after the Fourth-that's this Monday-and should be finished within two weeks."

Charlotte winced. The Fourth was on Saturday, two days away. Four days' total notice-not a lot of notice, but adequate ... decisions, decisions. "Tell you what, let me check my schedule and see what I can do. Then I'll get back to you."

"And how long will that take?"

Lord, give me patience. At times it was all she could do to keep a civil tongue in...