STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery)

by Bev Pettersen

  Emily peered through the gloom, her heart thumping. Dan stood only twenty feet away, his imposing figure outlined by the powerful headlights of the bus.

  “Maybe he’s going to ban you from the bus,” Judith whispered. “I heard of that happening before. But don’t worry. If he does, I’ll hitchhike back with you.”

  Dan abruptly turned, his gaze locking on Emily. He walked toward her with long purposeful strides.

  Emily’s heart squeezed at his grim expression, but she squared her shoulders and sucked in a fortifying breath.

  He stopped in front of her. “I want to apologize. I just saw the dailies.” He made no effort to lower his voice, and everyone in a fifteen-foot radius watched with avid interest. “The entire production team is impressed with the job you did today. And you need to know that before you go.”

  “If she’s still on the background list,” Judith asked, “can she come back tomorrow?”

  Something flickered across Dan’s face, a mix of emotions Emily couldn’t read. “She’s welcome here any time,” he said.

  “So she’s allowed to ride the bus tomorrow?” Judith asked.

  A middle-aged man tried to push around them, bumping Emily as he raced to get a good seat. Dan frowned. The man flushed and stepped back, suddenly electing to wait in line.

  “It’s a long ride to Louisville and back,” Dan said slowly. “You’re both welcome to stay in my trailer tonight.”

  Emily’s cheeks burned. It was obvious he didn’t want to risk being alone with her, and while she appreciated the apology she’d never been one to hang around when unwanted.

  “That would be great,” Judith said, jabbing Emily in her sore ribs. “We appreciate your offer.”

  Emily could feel Dan’s gaze but didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to see the reluctance in his face. “We can sleep in the apartment above the barn,” she said.

  “No.” Dan shook his head. “Hamilton has asked that it not be used. Apparently the apartment was always intended to be off limits.”

  “Oops.” She looked at Dan then, unable to suppress her smile. “Guess we shouldn’t have cut off that lock.”

  “Guess not,” he said, his eyes glinting with a familiar mix of mischief and humor. “But I’m definitely glad we did.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Don’t you think that’s weird?” Judith’s voice lowered and she glanced down the hall, checking that Dan was out of earshot. “Hamilton putting the apartment off limits? There must be something there he doesn’t want us to see.”

  “Flowers?” Emily joked, wishing Judith would ease up on the subject. It was impossible to concentrate on anything with Dan so close. So far, he’d been the perfect host, acting as though he was delighted to have two women for company. But she knew better.

  Judith drummed her fingers on the kitchen table. “We have to get back in there. Have a better look.”

  Emily made an agreeable sound deep in her throat, her attention elsewhere. It sounded like Dan was in the spare room now, moving file boxes off the bed. He had the second room set up as an office so their presence in his trailer was surely an inconvenience. Yet he’d been nothing but solicitous since collecting them from the bus.

  She ran her finger over the base of the wine glass, too drained to analyze his motives. She hoped it wasn’t guilt. But one thing she did know, she had no desire to be anywhere else.

  “You need to sneak back into the apartment,” Judith said.

  Emily yanked her attention back to Judith. “But it’s off limits. You heard Dan.”

  “But you can pretend to visit the horses. And you have to do it quickly, before Hamilton padlocks the door.”

  Emily shifted on the chair, picturing Dan’s scary look this morning. His eyes had turned so arctic cold. No wonder horses and people hopped when he raised his finger. “But we were both told the apartment was out of bounds,” she said weakly.

  “So what? Rules don’t bother you. And this is an incredible opportunity.” Judith shook her head, glancing around the kitchen in disbelief. “I still can’t believe we’re drinking wine in Dan Barrett’s trailer. He’s supposed to be reclusive. He must feel guilty about almost wrecking your career.”

  Guilty. Emily’s hand shook with regret, and wine sloshed against the sides of her glass.

  “This is so lucky,” Judith continued, oblivious to Emily’s distress. “Maybe we can finally figure out what happened to Tracey. I bet both Billy and Hamilton were involved. So be nice to Dan. Don’t waste an important connection. Do what you have to do—”

  She flushed and quit talking when Dan appeared in the doorway.

  “There’s a bed ready in the bedroom on the left,” he said. “And the kitchen table folds out.”

  Judith jumped up. “I’ll take the bedroom. See you both in the morning.”

  Emily crossed her legs, embarrassed by Judith’s clumsy attempt to leave her alone with Dan. “She’s really tired,” Emily said.

  “Clearly.” His enigmatic gaze followed Judith as she rushed down the hall. “Let’s go outside so we don’t wake her.”

  He filled Emily’s glass, snagged a beer and wordlessly guided her around the back of the trailer. A cooler and a wooden chair sat by a fire pit. A bundle of wood was stacked neatly on the side.

  She glanced around in appreciation. Trees buffered the back, giving a sense of privacy, and the twinkling stars overhead created their own skylight. One never saw a sky like this in the city. “This is lovely,” she said.

  “I like my space, and trailers are cramped. This keeps me sane.” He gestured at the lone chair. “Have a seat.”

  She sat while he crouched and expertly lit a fire. The sound of crackling wood filled the air and despite her hurt, her tension eased. She’d missed starry nights, the smell of smoke, the timeless comfort of a burning fire.

  And the very best ones always had something to roast. She and Jenna had cooked many meals over their backyard pit. Her mouth salivated just thinking of hotdogs and marshmallows.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  She turned away from the flames to stare at his shadowed face. He seemed to have read her mind. Already he’d pierced two hotdogs with a long pointed stick.

  “Oh, boy,” she said.

  “And…” He scooped her up with one arm, sat down and replaced her on his lap. “I’ll even do the cooking if you share the seat.”

  She allowed herself a brief second of savoring the feel of his body against hers before edging away. She knew men, and when the sun came down, they always turned less discriminating. But he’d said good-bye this morning, in no uncertain terms.

  “I’ll find another chair,” she said.

  His arm banded around her. “This is the only one.”

  “Bull—”

  He abruptly angled his head, cutting off her words with a passionate kiss. By the time he raised his mouth, she could only blink.

  “Look, Em, I’m sorry about yelling this morning. And I don’t bring many people back to my trailer.” He pressed his forehead against hers, his voice oddly gruff. “I’m very glad you didn’t leave on that bus. But I don’t want a woman with an agent. Really I don’t.”

  “My agent isn’t all that good,” she said, distracted by the proximity of his mouth.

  He chuckled but it lacked humor, and in fact sounded sad. However, she stopped wiggling, and let him readjust her on his lap. He didn’t bring many people back. So why her?

  They stared silently into the flames, but it was a comfortable silence. His heart pounded in tandem with hers, his heat forming a familiar cocoon. She couldn’t recall a nicer fire.

  He leaned forward and adjusted the coals for the hotdog stick, keeping her firmly wrapped in his left arm. “What are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked, settling back in the chair.

  “I’m not sure.” She paused, remembering Judith’s insistence about visiting the apartment again. “Maybe visit the horses in the stud barn,” she said. “Check with the set too. The dir
ector mentioned he might have more background work.”

  Dan traced his finger over the inside of her wrist. “About that university movie in Louisville, I called Tony this afternoon. He’s agreed to give you an audition.”

  “You called him? This afternoon?” She tilted her head, struggling to understand, trying to ignore how his casual touch made her shiver with pleasure. “But that was when you didn’t want me working again.”

  “I was just worried,” he said gruffly. “Besides, you’ll be safer in a union. I’m sure Tony will give you some lines.”

  A glow warmed her chest. Even when Dan believed she hadn’t followed his directions, he’d still tried to help. He’d even called his friend. She understood he didn’t want anything long term but he must care a little. And for the first time since he’d tugged her onto his lap, she completely relaxed. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Acting is a tough way to make a living.” He cupped her face, his expression suddenly intense. “But that’s what you want, right?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He lowered his hand and yanked the sizzling hotdogs further from the fire. “That’s what I thought,” he said.

  *

  Dan drained his beer, rose and tossed the can into the bin beneath the kitchen sink. The shower had stopped running. She’d be out soon. Four hotdogs, six beers and the most enjoyable campfire he’d ever shared with a woman, and he still didn’t know what to do.

  He hadn’t made up the pullout bed in the kitchen. Not yet.

  Two hours earlier, he’d resolved not to touch her. They had their night, and he didn’t regret it. But he would never ask anyone to sacrifice her dreams. Forget the mind-blowing sex, the quicker he stopped this thing, the better.

  Even if by some miracle she were willing to swap her stilettos for a Stetson, it wouldn’t last. She’d turn bitter, wondering what might have been. Hell, she’d probably make a helluva actress. But he wouldn’t be around to see it.

  He sighed, trying not to picture her sleek body only fifteen feet away. One thin door, likely unlocked. Worse, he could hear every sound from the bathroom—the pad of her bare feet, the rustle of a towel…an agonized whimper.

  He bolted down the hall.

  “What happened, Em? Are you okay?”

  The bathroom door cracked open, releasing a feminine burst of vanilla and lavender. She peered out, water still clinging to her eyelashes. “I’m fine,” she whispered, “but could you come in and help me pull off some tape?”

  “Sure,” he said, immediately hardening in a mixture of memory and anticipation. He shoved aside his good intentions. One more night wouldn’t hurt. He liked this girl, she liked him, and right now lust licked inside him like a hungry flame. His gaze lowered. She was practically naked. Her shoulders glistened invitingly, a tiny towel was wrapped like a sarong, and her beautiful breasts—

  “Dammit, what have you done?” He pushed back the door and charged in, his eyes widening.

  “I had to tape them. The director wanted big breasts. It was the only way to get the part.”

  His hands fisted. The line of skin beneath her breasts was raw and reddened. Blood trickled from beneath curled gray tape. Worse, the bottom of the tape seemed imbedded in her flesh.

  “I’m a bit of a wimp about pulling it off,” she went on. “But if you could find the end and yank fast... I think it’s at the back.” She glanced over her shoulder as though puzzled by his stillness. “The duct tape is really strong,” she added. “It might need to be cut.”

  He automatically reached for the knife in his pocket, fighting the sick feeling in his gut. “How long did you have this on?”

  “Since this morning. I forgot about it actually.”

  He gulped. She was no wimp. It must have hurt like hell although he shouldn’t be surprised. She was resourceful, smart and courageous…and clearly would go to great lengths to break into the business. “I thought you looked a little different,” he said.

  “I didn’t think you noticed.”

  “Oh, I noticed.” So had every male with a pulse. And she was right. Anthony wouldn’t have picked her for the part if she hadn’t displayed such attractive breasts. He tucked the tip of the knife beneath the tape, forcing his hand to steady. “Don’t you have a bra that does this sort of thing?” he asked.

  “All my clothes are in Louisville. A nice wardrobe lady has been helping me out. They have quite a selection of jeans.” She gave a rueful shrug. “But no bras.”

  He smiled, despite his despair. His mother hadn’t been nearly as creative, insisting they sell half their horses, including his pony, to purchase her expensive show clothes. But it hadn’t mattered. She’d still left.

  “This is going to hurt.” He paused for a moment, his fingers gripping the tape. “Is it worth it? Giving up your family for a shot at fame?”

  She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes startled. “Of course not. I love my sister. And I’ll go back and visit. But I need to succeed at something first.”

  He steeled his jaw and ripped. She winced but didn’t make a sound. He dropped the tape in the trash can and gave a relieved sigh, impressed at her stoicism. “Well, you definitely succeeded in drawing Anthony’s attention. That’s going to take a few days to heal. Luckily you won’t need to use tape again.”

  His left hand was still splayed over her ribs and he felt her stiffen. “Or do you? Did Anthony ask for the same look? Dammit. Look at those welts.” He placed his hands on her hips, turned her toward the mirror and pulled the towel lower.

  She tilted her head, frowning at her reflection. “Yes, they are bad. I’ll definitely use a different tape.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, then raised the towel and wrapped it around her, carefully avoiding the abrasions.

  “I forgot how different I look without makeup,” she said, still staring critically in the mirror. “Like a different person.”

  “Yes,” he said. “You’ll make a good actress.” It ached to be this close and not touch her but if he did, it would hurt even more when she left. He backed out of the bathroom. “I’m going to make up the bed in the kitchen. You can sleep in my room.”

  Her head whipped around, her brown eyes so full of hurt, he had to grip the doorknob. “Not even a last night together?” she asked. “You care that little?”

  “No,” he said. “I care too much.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Emily pried open her eyes, clutching the pillow as memories of last night’s rejection flooded back. The skin on her chest ached but not nearly as much as her heart. What man turned down strings-free sex? He must have been truly repulsed, whether it was her wet hair, lack of makeup or the ugly chafing below her breasts.

  She thrust aside the sheets and immediately winced. Perhaps the skin was a little more than chafed, although it wasn’t such a big deal. It certainly didn’t justify Dan’s expression. He’d looked stricken when he saw the tape.

  Her mind still felt numb. At first she’d thought he was disappointed because her breasts were a bit smaller than initial appearances. But he’d already seen her naked and based on his performance in bed, he hadn’t found them unattractive.

  She squashed an ache of longing and impatiently swung from the bed. She didn’t intend to moon over Dan. She’d been almost naked and he’d walked away. A guy couldn’t be more blunt.

  She pulled on her jeans and shirt, dragged a brush through her hair, and strode from the bedroom, feeling rather liberated. It was convenient to play a groom’s role and not have to worry about hair and makeup. Certainly getting dressed in the morning was easier.

  She pasted on a smile and walked into the kitchen, rather deflated to see it was empty. The pullout bed had been restored to a kitchen bench and the clock above the stove said six a.m.

  Obviously, Dan was an early riser but this time he hadn’t left a note. Hopefully she’d see him on set though, especially if Anthony chose her for background in a horse scene.

  She moved to the kitchen wind
ow and peered outside, searching for a worker lugging a toolbox. Wrapping herself in tape again would be painful, but show biz wasn’t for the faint hearted. It was too dark to see anyone so she walked down the hall and knocked on the spare bedroom door.

  “Time to get up, Judith,” she called.

  “I’m up,” Judith said. “Come in.”

  Emily pushed open the door. The narrow bed was made and Judith sat on the floor, surrounded by open boxes. “What are you doing?” Emily asked, her eyes widening. “That’s Dan’s stuff.”

  “He wouldn’t have put me in here if it was confidential.” Judith barely looked up from the papers spread on her lap. “And this explains the script. It says Tracey disappeared on a Thursday, ten days before the Derby. She was wearing a baseball hat when she disappeared.”

  Emily crossed her arms. “Put it away.”

  “But this will give us an edge. We’ll know how the director wants us to look.”

  “Close it. Now.” Emily’s voice sharpened. She scooped up a picture and rammed it back into a box.

  “Fine,” Judith said, her voice sulky. “But that picture wasn’t in the box. It was in the binder by your foot.”

  Emily yanked the picture out of the box and paused. A blue-eyed boy hugged a Shetland pony, his mischievous smile mirroring the pony’s expression. He looked like a boy she would have liked to play with. She glanced at the lady beside him and almost stopped breathing. “Wow,” she said.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t she? That’s Dan’s mother,” Judith said. “She was a stunt rider and rodeo queen. She even worked in Vegas for awhile.”

  It took a moment for Emily to breathe again. “No wonder he likes perfect women,” she managed. And Dan had the same profile, the same striking cheekbones, the same arresting eyes.

  Judith snorted. “No wonder he distrusts them, you mean. His dad raised him. His mother just dropped in for visits. He wrote some cards begging her to come home and apologizing for making her sad—”