Falling Stars (Shooting Stars 5)

Barry was silent a moment.

"Is that what he told you? He's a sick guy. Forget about him. I apologize for bringing him along." Barry said.

I again told him it wasn't his fault and begged him not to get into any problems because of it, and then I handed the phone back to Rose. She said goodbye and, looking so upset herself, hung up.

"That's only half of what's happening," Cinnamon began again. Rose looked at me.

"What else?"

"Honey had a visitor through the window-- and in the daytime. too. Whoever it was is definitely another sicko. He took her clothes."

"What?"

"While I was in the shower. He went up the fire escape, dropping my panties on a rung," I said.

"Did you see him?"

"No."

"But there's no question where he went," Cinnamon said. She looked at Ice. "Tonight, we'll find out what it's all about."

"What do you mean?" Rose asked. "How?"

"We'll pay him a visit, and if it turns out to be Edmond Senetsky..."

"But that's Madame Senetsky's private home."

"I don't care," Cinnamon said. "It's got to stop." She turned to Ice and Rose. "Wait a minute. Didn't you both tell us you were missing clothes?"

"Yes."

"You mean, you think..." Rose choked on the rest of her sentence. "He was actually in my room. In my things. too!"

"Why don't we just tell Madame Senetsky now?" I suggested firmly.

"Let's get it all first, be sure of our facts. It could either be the end of a problem or the end of us here if we don't handle it right," Cinnamon pointed out.

We were all silent.

"Tonight," Cinnamon repeated. "After dinner. We'll change our clothes first. Wear sneakers." she advised. "Going up a fire escape is hard in heels.

Everyone was silent a moment, the same cold fear flowing through our veins. Ice shook her head.

"It was such a nice day. too. Or at least, I thought it was. The park, the restaurant, being on Fifth Avenue and seeing all those expensive stores... for a while I felt like I was in a magical place."

"You were." Cinnamon insisted, "and you'll be there again." She looked at me with determination. "All of us will."

When we went down for dinner, we learned that Madame Senetsky had gone to meet some theater friends for dinner tonight and would not be with us. The dinner itself was finally just a dinner and not so much a learning experience with a guest chef and a lecture about wine and food; nevertheless, at Madame Senetsky's orders, we were treated to chicken Kiev. Ms. Fairchild didn't eat with us, but did give us an introduction to the entree, explaining what it was and where it had originated. She then left the dining room as well.

Howard and Steven were not at the dinner. All Ms. Fairchild told us was that they had other plans, which were approved.

"I'm sure he had nothing special," Cinnamon said. "but he was too embarrassed to face us."

"Who cares?" Ice muttered.

"He's so stuck on himself he thinks everyone is interested in his every breath," Cinnamon said. "You don't know how hard it is to have to work with such a person on the stage. He's always giving me one of his looks that ask. 'Is that the best you can do?' Even Mr. Marlowe is growing impatient with his narcissism."

"His what?" Ice asked. and Cinnamon retold the Greek myth of Narcissus, who fell in love with his own image and died pining away, in love with himself.