Heartwood

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Heartwood Page 16

by Catherine Lane


  Then someone could locate the missing cupcakes and rush them out to the event. And that someone, if she played her cards right, might be able to do a little snooping at Fern House without being seen.

  Guilt pulled at her as she stood back up without the note. The last thing she wanted was for Lauren or Skylar to get in trouble—especially since Lauren had handed her job back to her on a silver cupcake platter. On the other hand, a chance like this wasn’t likely to present itself again. The crowd at the press conference could easily hide someone who was violating a restraining order.

  Maggie took one last look around. The note was out of sight. The Lemon Lovers for the conference looked like ordinary bakery stock. And Skylar, cheery as she was, would panic at the first sign of trouble. Lauren would have to turn to Maggie.

  Yeah. This plan will work. Easy-peasy. She flicked off the kitchen lights and went home.

  Maggie’s phone yodeled at ten thirty the next morning. She had slept through her alarm, so the confusion when she answered was real.

  “Oh my God!” Lauren’s voice was shrill on the other end. “I don’t know what the hell happened, but there are no Lemon Lovers in the van. Skylar said that she loaded everything on the delivery shelf. Did you make them?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “Maggie, listen to me. Skylar’s losing it. Get your ass over to the bakery, and find out what happened to those cupcakes. Call me back!”

  The line went dead, and Maggie looked at the phone for a moment. The die had been cast.

  At the bakery, Skylar was nearly in tears. “I don’t know how this could’ve happened. I loaded everything that was on the shelf. Look, it’s empty.”

  Maggie tried to infuse calmness into her voice. “You didn’t see the note?”

  “What note?”

  “On the shelf. I left it right here.” She touched the metal rung where the instructions had once been. “It said that I put the Lemon Lovers over there.” She pointed to where the boxes sat.

  “No, I didn’t.” Skylar’s voice cracked. “When I came in this morning, there was nothing on that shelf except the boxes. I swear.”

  “Hmmm. I wonder.” Maggie flipped the brakes of the rolling shelf down with one foot and pulled the empty unit into the middle of the room. Sure enough, the note sat in the vacant space. “Oh, shit. It must have fallen off.”

  “I didn’t see it. How could I have?” Skylar was actually crying now.

  This was harder than she thought it would be. “Don’t cry. This isn’t your fault. I’ll just run the cupcakes out to the event, and it will be like it never happened.”

  “Really? You’d do that for me?”

  Maggie could only nod.

  Skylar wiped her eyes. The tears stopped as quickly as they had started. “Do you think Lauren will fire me?”

  “No. I won’t let her.”

  Skylar threw her arms around her and squeezed tight. “Thank you.”

  Lauren wasn’t nearly as grateful when Maggie called over to Fern House to explain what had happened. “There’s always something with you, Maggie, isn’t there?”

  “This wasn’t my fault, you know.” She stepped to one side in case lightning or an act of God blew through the bakery roof to strike her. When it didn’t, she added, “The paper just fell to the floor.”

  “Whatever. Just get them out here ASAP.”

  “Ah, Lauren…? You know I don’t have a car.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Take mine. The keys are in the top drawer in my office, where they usually are.”

  “See you soon,” she said to no one. The line was dead; Lauren had hung up on her for the second time that morning.

  Maggie wound her way through town with the cupcake boxes tucked carefully into Lauren’s backseat. The last thing she needed was a real accident to add to the chaos of the fake one. Once she eased onto the straightaway of Fern Drive, she gave the Saab a little more gas. A smile tugged at her lips, and her hands relaxed against the steering wheel. Wouldn’t it be a hoot if one of her hare-brained schemes actually worked?

  The commotion at the big black gate at Beth’s house told her she had congratulated herself way too soon. Several men, all wearing official-looking security jackets, stood guard at every access point. They tapped on iPads, talked into walkie-talkies, and scurried around, looking imposing. Waving the lucky few that were on the list down the long driveway, they turned away twice as many. One tall man stood over two women and simply shook his head as he jabbed his finger down the street.

  She didn’t know what she had expected—obviously not to pull right up to her usual parking space, but not this circus. Maggie took a deep breath. It was a good sign. It told her loud and clear that Lea was going to great expense to protect something…or someone.

  She pulled onto the shoulder of the road just beyond the gate and ran her hand through her bangs. She could drive down a couple of miles to the old service road. But it was in such bad shape that no one used it. Lauren’s car might not make it all the way to the house, and the clock on the dash said eleven fifteen. The press conference should have already started. Lauren was probably having a shit fit. If she were to have any time to snoop around, she needed to get the cupcakes up there immediately. She picked up her cell phone and dialed.

  “Where are you?” Lauren’s voice was thin.

  “Right outside.”

  “Do you have them?”

  “Of course, I do. Can you call down to the guards and get my name on the list? I’ll bring them—”

  “No.” Lauren’s voice rose an octave. “I already tried, but you’re on another list. A bad list. They’re not letting you in. I can come down myself or get someone else—”

  Maggie’s mind went into overdrive. Her whole plan hinged on getting past that gate. “Wait. Hang on.”

  She rolled down the window and zeroed in on the first person she saw—a tall young woman walking away from the gate, alone, head down.

  “Hey,” Maggie called out. The woman turned to her. “Couldn’t get in?”

  “Maggie? What on earth are you doing?” Lauren asked over the phone.

  “Hang on,” she said again and turned back to the girl on the shoulder. “What’s your name? I can get us in if you just give me your name.”

  “Josie Williams.” She didn’t vacillate. Didn’t ask why. Just jumped in with her name.

  Maggie liked her immediately. She waved her over as she returned to Lauren. “Put Josie Williams on the list. We’re driving up to the gate right now.” She killed the call without giving Lauren even a second to back out.

  She gave her full attention to the young woman who was already at the car window. Up close she looked younger than she had from across the street. Several piercings—nose, ears, and one eyebrow—worked against the classic beauty of her fine features. A curious gaze and large green eyes met Maggie’s scrutiny head-on.

  “You got a picture ID, Josie Williams?”

  “I do.” She patted a pocket on the backpack she was wearing.

  “Then hop in.” Maggie inclined her head to the passenger side of the car.

  Again, Josie didn’t hesitate as she rounded the car and slid into the front seat. “Wow. It smells good in here.” As she reached for the seat belt, the short sleeve on her right arm rode up enough to expose the delicate trunk of a tree tattoo.

  “Hey, weren’t you at the bakery the other day? Made From Scratch. Asking for directions? To here, right?”

  “I was. But I made a big mistake.”

  Maggie raised an eyebrow.

  “I should have ordered whatever’s in the backseat. I got red velvet.”

  Maggie snorted as she spun the car off the shoulder and back onto the road. “You’re going to have to do all the talking. Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  As soon as they pulled up, the security guard leaned down to the car window. “Name, please.”

  Maggie looked over to Josie, who met the man’s stare with indifference. “Josie Will
iams,” she said.

  He tapped on the iPad and ran his finger up and down the screen. “Sorry, I don’t see you.”

  Don’t panic. Let it play out. Lauren may need a moment. Maggie opened her mouth to buy them time when Josie jumped right in.

  “Look again. I was just put on the list.”

  The guard sighed. They both sat as still as mice while he scrolled again through the names on his screen. “Oops. Yep. Here you are. May I see some ID, Ms. Williams?”

  “Sure.” Josie pulled out a California driver’s license and showed the man a cleaner-cut version of herself—only one piercing, her curly blonde hair tamed by a headband.

  He took a long look at the ID, switching from picture to real person several times. “Thank you.” He moved to the car behind them.

  Maggie blew out a long breath and eased up the driveway. “Wow. You’re good. No panicking.”

  “So are you.”

  “Huh?”

  “You don’t have to cop to it. But it’s clear you’re up to something.” When Maggie said nothing, she added, “It’s all good. I don’t care. I’m not here to bust anybody.”

  Maggie glanced at her. Josie sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap and her gaze fixed on the road ahead.

  “You’re not coming up here to do something stupid, are you?” Maggie asked. The last thing she needed was competition in that arena.

  “No. I love Beth Walker. I just want to see her in person, maybe get a selfie with her for Snapchat or Instagram. How cool would that be?”

  “Pretty cool,” she said, although she had the distinct feeling that the girl was still acting. Whatever. She didn’t have time for what Josie Williams might have up her sleeve. She had to worry about parking.

  The driveway, normally so empty, was crammed with news vans, cars, porta-potties. Nearly running the Saab into a bush, Maggie squeezed Lauren’s car past the Made From Scratch van and into a tiny space right next to a white Subaru. She gasped as she recognized the car. Of course, Lea would bring her right-hand woman. After the talk in the cooler yesterday, she would have to avoid Nikka like the plague. She had practically given her a blueprint of the plan even before she devised it, and Nikka’s hasty exit the day before made clear whose side she was on.

  “Where are they?” Lauren, normally so composed, had flown down the steps of the house to the car before it had even come to a stop. Her eyes were wide and her face pinched.

  “Here.” Josie slid out of the car and tugged the front seat up to reveal the neat stack of boxes in the back.

  “Thank God.” Lauren pushed past Josie. “Maggie, you better take off before anyone realizes you’re here.”

  “You don’t need any more help?” Maggie jumped out of the car as well.

  “No. Not from you.”

  Maggie cringed. Lauren wasn’t usually so harsh.

  “Jeez. I’m sorry. I just don’t want either of us getting into trouble. Besides, I’m just going to get these Lemon Lovers on the table and head back to the bakery myself. This event is crazy. Nothing’s going right. You wouldn’t believe how stressed out people are in there.”

  “Okay,” Maggie said.

  When Lauren was halfway up the steps, juggling the boxes with both hands, she turned back. “Promise me. No funny tricks. You’ll disappear. I don’t want any trouble.”

  “I promise.” She forced herself to meet Lauren’s gaze even though her stomach roiled.

  Lauren nodded and vanished into the house.

  Maggie stared after her. When she was sure Lauren wasn’t going to pop out again, she tapped Lauren’s keys. With a single beep, the car’s locks slid down. She glanced toward the back of the house. Luckily, there were no security guards roaming around. They all seemed concentrated at the front gate. But she had no idea how everything was set up inside, so she figured her best bet was to sneak in from the back. That way it would look as if she had disappeared, as Lauren had demanded.

  Wait a second! Speaking of disappearing… Where was Josie Williams?

  CHAPTER 10

  June 1960

  The deep darkness of midnight crept into the den at Fern House. Beth sat on the couch, her back rigid against the pillows and her feet firmly on the floor. Dawn, as usual, was curled up in the wing-tip chair by the fireplace, small and forlorn. Beth dropped her gaze. She didn’t want to feel pity for the woman who was tearing her heart into little pieces.

  “I know I should have told you all this ages ago. In the truck on the way home from your parents probably or maybe even before. But the last thing I wanted was for you to feel sorry for me.” Dawn paused.

  Beth didn’t look up. She wasn’t going to be played…again.

  “And after that, there never was a good time. You know how when you miss the right time, it just gets harder and harder to actually say it out loud.”

  Another pause. Dawn obsessively rubbed one bare foot against the other.

  Beth closed her eyes to block out the image.

  “Jimmy’s not a nice man.” Dawn started up again. “In the beginning, I had no idea. It was fine, fun actually. We both like playing games, and so we played them together. Then he began to think that his needs and wants were more important than anything else. He’s beyond self-centered and narcissistic. That’s probably why he’s found so much success in Hollywood, but at home he made a two-year-old throwing a tantrum look like a saint.”

  Dawn swallowed so hard that Beth heard it across the room. “Believe me, it was exhausting listening to him go off on some executive or reviewer who didn’t get him. I felt like my mother, figuring out ways to beat off the storm in my own house. You see, I needed him for my career, and when I think back, it was crazy. But I guess when you’re in something, you can’t always see it clearly. Right?”

  Beth bit her bottom lip and then nodded slightly.

  “The yelling and tantrums were bad enough. And if that’s all it were, I would probably still be down there. But there were drugs, and finally he directed all his anger at me. Telling me how lucky I was to have him, how my career was dependent on him, how I’d be nothing without him. And then I got pregnant.”

  This time the pause stretched out into the night.

  Finally, after losing the battle with herself, Beth looked up.

  Dawn met her gaze, and even the darkness couldn’t hide her vulnerability. Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “You got pregnant…” Beth prompted.

  “He came home from a meeting at the studio. They were trying to block his participation deal with Conqueror of the World. He was furious. Actors all over are making these lucrative deals where they get paid on the back end, and his was going up in flames. Even now he’s lying when he says he’s getting ten percent of the profits. They wouldn’t even give him a minimum guarantee. I tried to talk him down. He didn’t care enough to listen to me. He lashed out.”

  A coldness dropped through Beth. She had no idea whether Dawn was telling the truth, but she knew what was coming next. And if it was true, now her heart was breaking for two reasons.

  “He raised his fist.” Dawn curled her hand and pushed it into the air. “It never went further than that. I got angry. He backed down.” She dropped her fist. “But I knew he was testing the waters, so to speak, and if I stayed there long enough, he would find a way to get in the deep end. I couldn’t stop thinking what if next time, it was the baby?”

  She sighed deeply, and when she spoke again, her voice had a steely reserve. “I had to get out of the marriage. So I put it into his head that we needed a house away from it all. He jumped all over that. He doesn’t trust anyone in Hollywood—or me for that matter. We were on a press tour in San Francisco, and I actually don’t know how we ended up in Steelhead, but it didn’t really matter. All I needed was a place to disappear from, and Steelhead isn’t on anyone’s radar. No one would be watching. I could just be here one day, take the money and passport upstairs, and be gone the next.” She waved her hand as if she were ending an elaborate magic
trick.

  “That’s not what happened. How did I get involved?”

  “You were going to help me. I saw how you looked at me that first day at Hank’s. I knew you were already in love with me even before you knew you liked women.”

  Darting pains ran down her torso. Of course she had known, but why did the truth have to hurt so much?

  “In the beginning, I saw you as someone who would help me. I thought if I threw you a bone every so often, you would lie for me when I vanished. You might even…”

  Suddenly, the writing room, the kisses that lead nowhere…everything made complete sense.

  “I would what?”

  “Take on Jimmy. Fall on your sword. I don’t know what I thought. Destroy yourself to save me if that’s what it took. Oh God, Beth. I’m so sorry.”

  “So you were playing me.”

  “In the beginning. Yes.”

  The only way to combat the pain was to take a deep breath. It filled her lungs and squeezed a tiny bit of the hurt out.

  “But then the day came, and I didn’t go,” Dawn added quickly. “I just couldn’t. There’s an unused ticket up there somewhere if you’re looking for proof. But I realized I didn’t want to run, and I told myself I still had plenty of time to change my mind again.”

  Beth opened her mouth, and Dawn put up a hand before she could start.

  “Yes, you’re right. Part of it is that I didn’t want to give up my career, but you got to believe me. I didn’t want to give you up either.”

  “That’s not what the letter upstairs says.”

  Dawn bunched both of her hands into tight fists. “Beth, that was a lie!”

  “Really? Because it doesn’t look that way. It’s addressed to Courtland. The man you said would sell anything to the tabloids. It looks like you’re going public with…us. How could you?”

  “Exactly!” She unclenched her hands and raised them, palms out, to Beth. “Don’t you see? That was the new plan.”

  Beth’s brows furrowed. What was she missing?

  “I was never going to send the letter to Courtland. He was here all day, and it would’ve been so easy, especially for me, to let something slip or give you a look that I had to immediately cover up to make him suspicious and set up the letter. But you were here today. Never once did I give him any indication that you were anything more than an assistant to me.”

 

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