“I should do this alone,” I said.
Diana nodded as the door squealed open. I did my best to hide my guilt. If I was right about my old watch from Near Death, I was going to ruin her life tonight, along with the lives of everyone she loved. Dean was out on a terrace watching the sunset. He didn’t look at me when I joined him. He was wearing a captain’s jacket but had skipped the hat, so he only looked half ridiculous.
“You come to yell at me?” he asked.
“Is that what you want?”
“Maybe.”
“He got to you the same time he put Nat on Diana, didn’t he?” I asked. “Fedorov. After your mom rejected his overtures.”
“Yeah,” Dean said. “Nat’s our go-between.”
“What’s he offering?”
“Four billion,” Dean said.
“No percentages?”
“I don’t want any part of Jove Brand,” Dean replied. He checked his phone. Unlike the staff, Dean had the Wi-Fi password. The glowing screen highlighted his sullen expression.
“This worth marrying Fedorov’s daughter?”
Dean recoiled in shock. “How’d you know?”
“Nat told Diana you were going to propose. Diana told me.”
Dean kicked at the stone railing. “Go on, tell me I’m a moron.”
“I’m here to listen, Dean.” I felt a powerful urge to comfort him. I extended a hand toward his shoulder, then withdrew. We weren’t that close.
“The franchise is at its peak,” Dean said. “Maybe Niles keeps it going, maybe it tanks. Who can say? Every movie is a giant gamble and the stakes only go up. We sell now, throw the money in safe investments, and the world will end before a Calabria ever has to work again.”
Dean’s lips were moving, but Fedorov’s words were coming out. “There’s more to life than money.”
“The legacy.” Dean snorted. “Fedorov told me all about the legacy. About Near Death and everything that happened during filming.”
I stared at him staring at the sea, trying to find the words. “Listen—”
“I saw your fights,” Dean interrupted. “On Fedorov’s stream.”
“Hope you didn’t lose too much.”
Dean looked at me for the first time. “Lose? I cleaned up. I knew you’d win.”
His belief in me caught me off guard.
“It was stupid to sick Chevalier on you,” Dean said.
“Yeah.” My smooth reply covered my surprise. It dawned on me then: Chevalier was the fifth contact on Dean’s tablet.
“Mom used them during the last production, in France,” Dean said. “After all that stuff online about you being arrested, Mom came and told me you wouldn’t kill anyone. That you were investigating the murders yourself, not hiding behind lawyers. That you were even coming here to talk to her. I knew right then you’d find out about the deal.”
Dean had been on me since minute one, since Missy arranged my meet with Dina. “I’m not the hero you think I am, kid.”
“They’ve killed people before, you know. Chevalier,” Dean countered. “You walked all over them.”
I made an educated guess. “They would have killed me, if you hadn’t told them not to.”
Dean braced against the sea wind. “I don’t kill people. I’m not my mom.”
I did my best to neither confirm nor deny.
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose to halt the waterworks. “Fedorov told me everything about the blowup between Mom and Uncle Kit. About you and Mom sneaking around.”
I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? My eyes started to well up. I clenched my jaw to keep it from trembling.
Dean shook his head at the waves. “I’m getting us out of all this. It’s a prison with gold bars. I’m not locking my kids in a tower their whole life.”
The prepared statement was understandable. Who knows how many times Dean had practiced it in front of the mirror, bracing for the tempest. But Dean was getting louder. The levels above and below us also had terraces. I guided him away from the edge and into the room, before someone eavesdropped on the story of the century.
I pulled Dean’s hankie out of his breast pocket and handed it to him. “Don’t worry, kid. You’re not going to have to do anything.”
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
“Don’t make any big announcements tonight. Don’t do any deals. If I’m right, you’re about to let your hair down for good. Did you tell anyone else?”
“Just Niles,” Dean said. “I thought he deserved to know. It’s his future too.”
Dean walked me to the door, but I didn’t want him tagging along for what was coming next.
“Clean up a little and go mingle. There’s safety in numbers. If you see Niles, tell him he’s in danger. Sir Collin and Layne Lackey also knew about the deal, and now they’re dead. And be careful. Let Stavros out. There’s still a killer on the loose.”
“Who is it?” Dean asked.
“Kid, I honestly have no idea.”
18
The ballroom was abuzz when I got back, the volume rising with the intoxication level. Most of the guests were used to being the center of attention, so they tried to talk over everyone else. I was searching for a friendly face when I spotted Special Investigator Stern.
She had gone over the top with her undercover, in a long gold gown that imprisoned her chest but left her arms free. It was slit up both sides, which not only fit the theme but also allowed a full range of motion. Her updo gleamed like spun copper. She held her clutch left-handed in the event she had to draw her gun. It must have been driving her nuts, trying to spot me among a sea of Jove Brands.
The Jove Brand theme from For Love or Money started up in the background, saxophones belting. Stern was between me and Yuen, scanning the room methodically. Yuen thumbed over his shoulder, toward Runshaw Shensei. I pointed at Stern.
Yuen grinned. He always did like being the center of attention.
By the time Stern registered the ambush, Yuen had swept her off her feet. He led, waltzing her away from me. Man, could he dance. It was a tragedy there were no roles for him that didn’t involve flying kicks in This Town. The guy oozed charisma.
Their performance was causing a scene, but storming off would trigger a bigger one, so Stern bit her tongue and stared bloody murder. When she tried to get a look around, Yuen went cheek to cheek. When she tried to beg off, Yuen spun her back into his arms. This was all for my benefit and it was still an effort to tear myself away.
Runshaw Shensei was with his wife, who had to have been a vampire, considering they’d been married forty years and she’d looked thirty the entire time. I approached him head-on, moving with deferential posture.
“If you’ll indulge me, I am permitted one last question.”
Runshaw grunted admission.
The Shensei brothers had provided Kit with everything he’d needed to produce Near Death. Equipment, locations, cast, crew. If, while stranded in Hong Kong, Kit needed a different sort of event facilitated, where would he have turned?
“Did you make wedding arrangements for Kit Calabria?”
“Yes.”
The last piece of the puzzle fell into place. My insides wanted out. It never hurt so much to be right.
“Thank you,” I said with a slight bow. “I hope you enjoy tonight’s show.”
Missy found me before I found her. She was managing to hold it together. Life had given her plenty of practice.
“Did Ray get the watch working?” I asked.
“He says so. What’s going on, Ken?”
“Let’s find Dina.”
Missy steeled herself. “I haven’t seen her.”
“When in doubt, go right to the top.”
If I was going to do this, I was going to do it as Ken Allen. I took a glass of water from a coworker’s tray and a napkin from a table. What water I didn’t use to clean off my disguise, I drank. We took the spiral stair to avoid the elevator operator. The Cove was packed in anticipation
of a big announcement. They were going to get one. Missy and I emerged through the bull’s-eye into the lighthouse family room and made our way up the stone stairs that hugged the outer wall. The next Jove Brand was on his way down.
Niles Endsworth stiffened when he saw us. He had three inches, twenty pounds and fifteen years on me but here he was worried I was about to crush his throat.
“Did you talk to Dean?” I asked him.
Niles stared at me, expressionless. Here’s the thing about actors: People think they are funny and interesting. You would be too, if you had a team of writers behind you. But catch one off script sometime. See how clever they were then.
“Stay where people can see you,” I told him. “This will all be over soon.”
Niles was a brick wall. One blocking the way.
“Pardon me, sir,” I said, gesturing for Missy to go ahead of me. Niles stepped off the side of the stairs, treating the twelve-foot drop like he was skipping down a curb.
“That’s Gamesman,” Niles said to my back.
“His Brand sounds really good,” Missy said when we were halfway up the stairs.
I wasn’t impressed. “He’s doing a Bryce Crisp delivery with Connor Shaw’s inflection. I hope for his sake Niles finds his own voice.”
“Tough criticism coming from a Razzie nominee.”
“That was honorary.”
We met Dina on her way down. She was wearing an aggressively glamorous red evening gown with bare feet. I watched her process the two of us together, coming for her. Dina had been up and down those steps since she kindergarten but now she missed one. She recovered before I got the chance to help her.
“We should do this in private,” I told her.
Dina turned around before replying. It concealed her expression but her back was ramrod straight.
“Come on up,” she said, waving like it had been a long day but she would do us the favor. By the time Dina was back behind her desk, she was even-keeled.
It was time for my spotlight moment. I should have been reveling in the reveal, but the whole thing made me nauseous.
“I know what got Layne Lackey killed,” I began.
“Do you?” Dina said. She locked down, elbows on the table, mouth hidden behind her hands.
“Layne was looking into the Jove Brand film rights. Could they be transferred? Could they be sold? It turns out they can and they can’t.”
“What does that mean?” Missy asked.
“Only a male can inherit, but the inheritor can transfer the rights to any member of the Calabria family. The contract doesn’t specify that the family member has to be a blood relative.” I watched Missy closely when I said the next part. “Marrying in is kosher.”
Missy looked down, took a breath. Every actor had their process for getting into character. When Missy looked back up, she betrayed nothing.
For her part, Dina didn’t look surprised, which surprised me plenty.
“Oh my God,” I said, addressing her. “You knew about the wedding? Did Kit reach out to you?”
Dina’s eyes swelled with the same dark intensity they had our first night together in Hong Kong. “He told me. He mentioned they were starting a family right away.”
I struggled to keep my voice even. “You played me. Made me feel guilty so I’d distance myself, in case Kit let me in on the happy secret.”
When Missy spoke, her voice was distant. “What do you mean, Dina played you?”
I unwrapped Ray’s present. The knotted ribbon appeared complex but fell apart with a good tug. The time had come to confess. “Dina and I had an affair while Near Death was filming. After Kit banned her from the set, she went looking for a spy. Being Jove Brand, I was the obvious choice.”
Missy looked from me to Dina. Her composure didn’t falter. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, which was a mercy I didn’t deserve. I raised the lid on Ray’s present. “You got everything you wanted out of Jove Brand, didn’t you, Dina? Out of me.”
Dina stayed the course, mouth clamped shut. Her slightly flaring nostrils were the only sign I was making a dent. I held back the one question I wasn’t sure I wanted answered and kept to the thread. “Kit knew the most crucial time was during the delivery of the print. If the only print of Near Death was destroyed, the Calabrias would lose the rights forever.”
I pulled out a beautiful wood case and set my thumb against the brass panel. The latches popped open. Then I told Missy the secret I’d kept for eighteen years.
“So we hatched a plan. Kit would play decoy and fly with a dummy print. Meanwhile, I would deliver the real print via motorcycle. Our theory being no one would believe a Calabria would trust Jove Brand’s fate to anyone else. When Kit took off, it was with a load of empty cans.”
Missy held her breath. Dina was squeezing her hands blue.
“I always assumed that our plan worked, and Kit sacrificed himself to save the franchise. But Kit’s killer knew about our plan. Because I told her. To grandstand. To make sure she knew it was me who saved the day.”
Missy’s gaze bored into Dina. Dina stood up and turned toward the ocean. The glass held the sea change at bay. Her reflection was a ghost against the night.
“What choice did I have left? Kit taunted me. Told me they’d be making babies, right away. He wanted me to know there was no chance I would ever get what should have been mine.”
Dina was starting to crack. I forced myself to forge ahead.
“You wanted Near Death’s print delivered, to keep the franchise safe. Once you knew Kit didn’t have the real print, his fate was sealed. Those who didn’t believe Kit’s plane crash was an accident would blame the usual suspects. After all, Kit himself thought the Russians were behind the overdose of Bryce Crisp’s intended successor. I latched on to the same theory, partly because I wanted to believe Kit’s death wasn’t my fault, but mostly because without a male heir, you had nothing to gain.”
Dina found my specter in the glass. It was in her eyes. I said it as I thought it.
“Unless you knew an heir was already on the way.”
Dina didn’t turn from the tide. “I knew it would be a boy. I knew the moment it happened.” Her eyes were eighteen years and a continent away. “At the eleventh hour, my dream had come true. It was fate.”
I angled myself to watch both the door and Dina, now that I knew what she was capable of. “From his files, Lackey figured all this out too. But when he died, he was chasing a different secret. Did Layne approach you, Dina? Or did you guess?”
“I’m not taking pitches tonight,” Dina said.
I opened Ray’s box. The multi-tool went into my breast pocket. The Quarreler I kept in my hand. “Layne theorized that Kit, knowing his life was in danger, might have left a will. Lackey wanted to get his hands on it, bad. Bad enough to break into Missy’s place to find it.”
I turned to Missy. I had more things to watch than I had eyes. “But you took Kit’s will wherever you went, every day for eighteen years.”
If Dina had a panic button or shotgun tucked away in a drawer, now was the time. I broke the Quarreler open to find a red quiver staring back at me. There were no other options. When I went to take the watch box from her, Missy held on to it. Her voice was calm, controlled.
“What are you doing, Ken?”
“It’s time to let go, Missy.”
Missy released the box, her hand quaking. Not wanting to put my weapon down, I flipped it open with one hand and freed the watch from its protective foam.
Dina turned to face me. “This is cruel, what you’re doing. Think about Dean.”
I didn’t have a free hand for pointing fingers. “I am. In fact, I’m the only one thinking about Dean.”
Having failed at weaponizing guilt, Dina resorted to gaslighting. “This is a trick. Well, it’s not going to work. Outside of this room, our words won’t mean anything.”
I nodded. “You’re right, Dina. But pictures are worth a thousand words.”
I triggered the wa
tch’s concealed play button. The screen slowly glowed to life. On it, Kit looked tired. His dark beard was showing its first white strands. Stress would do that to you. Both Dina and Missy thought they knew what he was going to say. I thought I knew too.
We were all wrong.
“You’re in the shower right now, so I’ll keep this short.” Kit’s image was distorted in the fish-eye lens. His voice was a distant specter. “If the Russians take a shot at me, they’re taking it tonight, but Ken and I have them beat. I feel sorry for anyone who tries. Ken almost died too many times to count during filming and never even batted an eye. Whatever happened to him as a kid, my dearest Miss Cee, dude needs therapy.”
Kit looked over toward the bathroom. The shower was running. I looked over at Missy now. Seeing Kit again tore down the barriers that had held fast her entire adult life. Her expression didn’t waver, but silent tears rolled down her face.
It hit me harder than if she had broken down. There was crying and there was crying and then there was Missy Cazale. On the small screen, eighteen years in the past, Kit addressed her for the last time.
“I wanted to say I love you and I wish we had the chance to make all those movies we talked about. I’ll never know what you saw in me, but I’m forever thankful you did. Now, time to make it formal.”
Kit took a breath and cleared his throat.
“I, Kit Calabria, being of sound mind and body, hereby transfer the rights to Jove Brand to my sister, Dina, who should have had them all along.”
Kit laughed, once, surprised at himself. “Guess I’m off script, but it sounds right, now that I’ve said it. After our call, Dina, I felt so sick. No, what I felt like was Pop. I have to stop thinking about what he wanted and start thinking about what’s right. Jove Brand is all yours now, whether you birth a boy or not, so for God’s sake stop trying. No one is that Catholic.”
Kit turned his head at the sound of the shower stopping. From the bathroom, Past Missy said something the camera didn’t pick up.
“I love you both, you gifted chicks,” Kit said. He held for a two-count to help the edit, then the screen went black.
Jove Brand is Near Death Page 24