by Lee Winter
“Yes?”
“Why would Jennifer want to stay with her friend in the middle of the forest? No creature comforts? I can’t go five minutes without my curling iron. Why would Shezan be worth giving up all that? Especially since she’s only known the woman for, like, a few months.”
“Because they’re really good friends.” Alex’s head pounded. She needed another aspirin. “BFFs. Okay?”
Melody squinted. “But I wouldn’t give up all that for my best friend I’ve known for five years.” She paused. “Then again, the bitch did take my boyfriend to a concert last week.” Melody shook out her beautiful blonde ringlets. “Hell, never mind. I guess it’s why they call it acting.”
Alex gave her a tight smile. “Exactly. And you’re acting so well. I’ll be right back.”
She slunk off to find an aspirin. After a long swallow and a tired sigh, Alex grabbed her phone and anxiously looked at the texts. Three from Bess. One from Rowan. Nothing new from Sam. Well. Maybe the hero of the hour was still asleep. It was ridiculously early.
It took most of the day and a shift of location, but eventually Alex finally started to shake off her miserable start.
She glanced up to find Melody watching her.
“So what’s the big deal?” Melody asked, wandering over to Alex. “Why’s everyone acting so excited about our next scene?”
“Because we have your character’s poacher dad to kill off,” Alex said. Which you’d know if you’d bothered to look at the script sides. “Jennifer has to decide who to save: Shezan or her father.”
Melody smiled. “Ooh. I won’t even hesitate.”
Seriously, this girl has issues.
“On that note, sit, please.” Alex indicated the canvas chair beside her.
Melody promptly dropped into the chair and reached for her phone. Apparently conversing without simultaneous texting was a failure of multi-tasking.
“Okay, listen, we’re shooting the pivotal moment of the movie,” Alex told her. “We need Jennifer looking like she’d rather die than lose Shezan in this scene. But you can’t make the choice look easy. Show us her conflict of deciding who to save. And then, when it looks like Shezan might be in real trouble when she’s fighting the poacher, I want you to show us devastation, then resolve.”
“Devastation? Over a friend she’s kinda just met?” Melody gave her an odd look.
Alex forced a smile. “But it’s intense. They’ve almost died twice now, and saved each other’s lives. It’s been a whirlwind journey of emotions and jeopardy and now here they are. Maybe imagine someone in your life you couldn’t bear to lose.”
Melody’s gaze faltered.
“Your…boyfriend, maybe?” Alex tried.
Melody’s expression soured. “He really is on my shit list right now.”
Alex exhaled. “What about your family?”
She shrugged. “They’re so annoying.”
“Close friends?”
Nothing.
“Pets?”
Melody’s face lit up. She pulled up a photo of an adorable white lapdog with an oversized pink bow in its fur. Yikes. “This is my good boy, Valentino.”
“Right,” Alex said. “Imagine you have to choose between saving Valentino or yourself. That’s the conflict we’re going for in this scene.”
Melody’s eyes widened. “That’s an evil choice. Okay, I get it.”
Alex rose and addressed her team. “Right, everyone, you know the drill. A puma, to be added in later by special effects, will bound toward Shezan and the poacher.” She waved at the actors. “Jennifer has an old rifle and only one bullet. If she shoots from the left, the impact will throw the enraged puma away from her father and into Shezan’s lap. If she shoots from the right, the opposite occurs. Spoiler alert, the villain gets a lapful of puma.”
A murmur spread as everyone prepared for the shot. If this went well, it could make the movie. The drama, the power of the story, everything hung on whether Alex could pull this off. She’d worked on the angles with her crew for days, figuring out how to up the tension
“Hell of a way to die,” Jeremy, the poacher, joked, with his trademark creepy grin. “But I’ve got a face people want to kill, so I get it.”
“Nah, mate, you’re not so bad,” Chloe said.
“You do,” Melody said bluntly. “Sucks to be you.”
Oh Jesus.
Jeremy merely laughed.
Alex called action and leaned forward as the scene unfolded. At various moments, she shouted where the puma would be. “He’s almost right on you now. Jennifer, choose! You can’t decide!”
Melody’s face transformed into horror and fear, her finger tightening on the gun. At the last second, she leaned to the right and squeezed the trigger.
“Bang!” Alex shouted. “Puma’s rolling your way, Poacher. It’s hit, it’s crazy with pain and it’ll maul you with its dying breath.”
Jeremy acted terror, screamed, then clapped a hand over his jugular. The bloodied throat effect would be added later.
Melody cried out, half sobbed, then turned away. “I’m sorry.”
“And…you’re dead!” Alex called to Jeremy.
He stopped moving, his jaw falling slack. Brilliant.
Melody was crying. Actual tears. Dear God, she really could act!
Or she really loves her dog.
Chloe crawled to her side. “Don’t cry,” she whispered.
“I’m not crying for him.” Melody’s face crumpled. “I’m glad he’s gone.”
“You are?”
“He was not a good man,” Melody said sharply. “Being honest about him hurts. And until I met you…” Her voice became softer. “I didn’t understand.” Her eyes dropped to Chloe’s lips. Chloe swayed closer.
For a half a second, Alex wondered if Chloe would kiss her despite Alex’s clear keep-it-subtext instructions. She seemed sorely tempted, her gaze slipping all over Melody’s plump lips.
Alex held her breath at the delicious anticipation.
Instead, she kissed Melody’s cheek, then stroked it with her thumb. “I’m glad I could be here for you. You’ll always be safe with me.”
They slid into a soft hug that was sensual and stylized rather than comforting. It was an allegory for sex, something she’d worked out in advance with Chloe. Melody simply mirrored Chloe, as she often did.
Alex called cut and felt strangely unsettled. Why? The scene looked gorgeous. Of course it did: Alex had spent hours designing it that way. She’d made her plans with exhaustive detail and figured out with her experts how to use their cinematic tools to maximize tenderness, softness, and beauty, extracting every beat of pathos. But still, she was unsettled.
The words of the scene slithered around her head.
You’ll always be safe with me.
The first time she’d read that in the script, it sounded like typical fantasy-hero nonsense. No one was really like that. Everyone looked out for themselves. Alex knew that for a fact. Even with people who cared for her a great deal—family, friends, lovers—there always were limits. She’d never been anyone’s top priority, and they always held something back. Human nature, she supposed. Such was life. And then…
Alex drummed her fingers on the wooden armrest as her thoughts galloped. Then Sam had rushed into danger, had risked her life, without a moment’s thought. For Alex. It was terrifying. Startling. Humbling. Astonishing. And so unsettling. People just didn’t do that. Not people in real life.
Alex glanced over at the sound of clapping. Crew members were helping Jeremy stagger to his feet, and the villain was hamming up his death by jungle cat.
Chloe was trying to readjust her costume, which had torn slightly at one shoulder amid the chaos; Skye assisted, her fingers tugging and pinning like a pro.
Alex studied her costume designer more closely. H
er face was pinched, and her lips drawn tightly down. Skye had been in the oddest of moods all day.
After Skye finished, Kiri pulled her aside for a hushed, furtive conversation involving a lot of vigorous head shaking.
Alex cocked her head in surprise. What would a stunt double and a costumer have to argue about? Skye had made the woman’s costume weeks ago. It fit. End of story.
Suddenly, Skye jerked her hand away and strode over to Alex. Every muscle in her tiny body turned rigid.
“Skye, no!” Kiri called out.
The cast and crew stopped dead and turned to watch, expressions uneasy.
Dread seeped into Alex’s veins. She inhaled slowly and lifted her head. “Yes?”
“I’m so sorry,” Skye said. “I’m really very, very sorry. I caused this.” Her fingers tangled in front of herself. “And that lovely police officer was almost killed because of me.”
Alex stared, speechless.
“Officer Keegan should never have been at the biker’s compound,” she continued. “And that was my fault.”
Alex’s blood ran cold. “Skye? What are you talking about?”
“The dummy in the dam. It was an accident. I put it there. I’d been experimenting, testing how certain clothes react to the elements, to see what would be better for costumes. And, well, I got distracted. I can be a little scatterbrained.”
Alex stared in dismay.
“I got called away that evening by some minor drama and forgot I’d left it there until the morning, by which time the alarm was raised. Next thing I know, Officer Keegan is bravely rushing off to see the bikers and I feel terrible! I’m so sorry, dear.”
“Why didn’t you say anything at the time?”
Skye blew out her cheeks. “Well, I felt foolish. And I assumed it wouldn’t matter because the investigation would be over in two minutes. No leads, no clues, and so on. I thought, ‘I’ll just say nothing, go back to work, and that’ll be that. Where’s the harm?’ You know the rest.” Skye looked distraught. “Well, except for the fact there is no saboteur.”
The lack of reaction from cast and crew was even more disturbing than Skye’s bombshell.
Alex noted several guilty faces looking away, including Kevin and Kiri. “And why do you claim we have no saboteur?” she asked, voice chilly. “Because that doesn’t explain the other events. The destroyed pond? The stolen lamp?”
“We don’t have one,” Skye said with certainty.
Kiri shot her a dismayed, warning look.
“We don’t have a saboteur,” Alex repeated slowly. “And what does our stunt double have to say? Kiri, didn’t you discover the pond had holes in its lining?”
“Um…” Kiri’s hands turned into knots. “Well, I’d been running, like I said. I had my spikes on, because the ground gets so muddy in the morning. A bird swooped me, and I was so startled I ran through the pond. My spikes made a mess of the lining. I apologize for not telling you. The thing is, this is my first major stunt-double job, and I really didn’t want to lose this opportunity. Sorry, Alex.”
“I…see.” Alex gazed at her for a long beat, noting how Kiri’s eyes slid to Skye and back.
“Let me guess,” Alex turned to a frozen-in-place lighting team, “there’ll be some innocent explanation for why one of our most critical lamps went missing?”
Kevin began inching away.
“Kevin? Anything to share?” Alex asked, tone warning.
A clipboard clattered to the ground, and Alex turned to see Alice’s white face, her eyes wide.
“Or Alice? Perhaps you have some insights?” Alex eyed her production assistant with annoyance. Surely not Alice, too?
Alice’s mouth opened, then shut tight.
“Don’t blame Alice,” Kevin said, running a hand across the back of his neck. “There was a mix-up. I made a stuff-up with the M90. I read the call sheet wrong, and thought I was supposed to move it to the poacher’s tent set so I took it up there.”
“Took it? How?”
“I used the forklift.” He shrugged. “I just drove it there, same way I always shift our lights. No one saw me. But when I got back, all set to move the next M90 up there, I found out some urgent meeting had been called. Then I find everyone’s going nuts and you’re in the middle of a big speech about saboteurs and tracking down a new M90, so I figured I’d keep my trap shut and go along with it. I was already on notice over breaking a light. I was pretty sure losing your most expensive flamin’ light would get my ass bounced.”
Alex regarded him with rising anger. “You thought I’d fire you for a misplaced lamp? Things go missing on sets all the time! Are you seriously telling me you couldn’t even admit to a simple mistake? You think I’m some sort of ogre?”
“Um…no… That’s not…not all of it.” He scratched his ear. “Look, I knew I was on thin ice, and maybe you’d fire me, maybe not, but either way, well, word spreads around here, real fast. And I really didn’t want to be known as the dickhead who couldn’t even read a call sheet right, on top of the guy who broke a light in week one.”
He chewed on his lip and flicked a glance at her. Finally, he dropped his gaze to his boots. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, really stupid shit, and I’ve got a bit of a rep now. I didn’t wanna see the look on my family’s faces if I screwed up yet again and everyone knew it. I love this job and I wanted to be a success. I just don’t want to be that guy again. I wanted it to be different this time.”
Alex stared at him in disbelief. She turned to Alice. “So why does my loyal assistant look so guilty?”
Kevin darted a look at the quailing woman. “I called her when she was five minutes up the road to find a new light and told her what happened. I suggested I get the original light back and say it was a replacement she’d found. She could then save the day and no one’d get fired or humiliated. Or, specifically, um, me.”
“So we don’t have Peter Jackson to thank? No wonder he didn’t answer my thank-you email,” Alex muttered. She glared at her PA. “Alice? Why did you go along with this nonsense?”
“I didn’t want Kevin to lose his job or anyone’s respect. He’s been doing so well.” She gave Kevin a sympathetic look. “It didn’t cost us anything to pretend I’d found a new light. I really didn’t want to throw him under the bus. He’s really nice.”
Kev reddened, and Alice looked utterly stricken.
“So basically, everyone here knew there was no sabotage.” Alex scowled.
“I didn’t,” Melody said, barely looking up from her phone. “And I’d fire all your damn asses.”
Murderous looks greeted her proclamation, but Melody shrugged and went right on texting.
Alex took in the shamed faces gathered around her. That not one of them felt she could be trusted with the truth filled her with a profound sense of failure. “You people lied to me, day in, day out. Quincy and I believed we were being targeted. What were you thinking? You’re all adults. Someone could have died!”
Abashed looks greeted her. Alex wondered if they truly understood how close their stupid stunts had come to getting Sam killed. Then there was Skye. Of all people, she’d trusted Skye to be the grown-up in the room and to have her back. And all this time, she knew and had said nothing.
“I can’t even look at you right now,” she continued. “I just don’t know what to say. Actually, yes I do. Alice? You’re now working with the second-unit director. Kevin? Not only were you dishonest and irresponsible, you manipulated someone else into covering for you. You’re fired. Kiri, I’m taking the cost of the destroyed rubber matting out of your paycheck because you lied to me. Be glad I don’t deduct the amount it cost us in time lost, too. And Skye?” She shook her head, dismay filling her. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Alex—” Skye stepped forward.
“Don’t…don’t even talk to me.”
&nb
sp; Skye’s protests faded out after a glance at her dark face.
Alex stared grimly at her team. “It’s not the damage done to the property. It’s the damage you’ve done to my trust. I have no words for that. Now, I need to explain all this to Quincy and get a new assistant.”
With that, Alex walked off the set toward the executive producer’s trailer, beyond devastated.
How had it come to this?
Chapter 18
Clearing the Air
The banging on Sam’s door was loud enough to wake the dead. If this was another damned media hound looking for a scoop, she’d toss them in Wairere Falls. She glanced at her watch. Four-thirty in the afternoon? Her eyebrows lifted. Someone’s persistent. The journalists usually bugged out long before this time of day. Deadlines and all that. Swinging her front door open, ready to offer an icy serve, Sam almost slammed it shut again.
Alex.
No. Too soon.
Sam wasn’t ready to explain how being displayed for a baying crowd to judge was the worst thing Alex could have done to her—not just professionally but personally. Explaining any of her reasons would involve emotional expenditure Sam didn’t have in her right now.
Still…did the woman have to look that hangdog?
Sam sighed and widened the door. “Come in.”
Silence fell after she’d entered.
Alex paced the lounge, looking more unsettled than Sam had ever seen her. She didn’t even seem to notice the threadbare minimalism and fifties “dump chic” Sam had once been so certain would send her running for the hills.
“Drink?” Sam asked. “I have…” She screwed up her face, trying to remember. It’d been a few weeks since she’d found time to properly shop. “Beer, coffee, and water.”
“Beer.” Alex stopped. “No, wait, not beer. That’ll bypass my censor button, and I might say something I can’t take back and I know he’s family, so I don’t want that, but damn it, Sam!”
Family? She frowned. “What’s Kev done now?”
“How’d you know I meant him?”
“It’s always him. He attracts trouble like a magnet. So, what’s he done?”