by Alison Tyler
"I know what he did. Corey was crazy. If he didn't break a half-dozen bones in that gag I'll eat my hat. Forget it, Cat. You stick to the spins and keep your damn car off the shoulder of the road or I'll see to it that you never work on another one of my pictures again. Do you hear me?"
"Dodger, listen. I know Corey ran into trouble. But I also know why. I've made some changes—"
"You aren't making any changes." He stormed off in the direction of the taverna. A few steps away he came to an abrupt stop. Looking back over his shoulder, he called, "You coming or are you taking the ferry back?"
Cat took a deep breath. There was no point arguing with her father. Anyway, she had other means of getting her way. She walked toward Dodger, and they continued together on to the taverna.
Although Cat was at her most cooperative all afternoon, Dodger had an uneasy feeling that some-thing was up. She was too compliant, too relaxed. He planned to talk with Peter when they got back tonight to make sure Cat didn't try to get the director on her side.
They returned to Alonnisos around five. The ferry coming back had been late, supposedly a natural occurrence. No one on the islands seemed to be in much of a hurry. The slow, relaxed pace of their lives contrasted sharply to the pace driving Cat these past days.
She had spent the first day after that final goodbye with Luke fighting back tears whenever she wasn't in front of the camera. Sometimes she wasn't successful. Then she would slip off into the woods or back to her bungalow or into the ladies' room at the local taverna and let the tears pour out. She'd sit for a while, managing to pull herself together, regaining her equilibrium, before she returned to the set. She was sure people were aware something was going on, but she avoided everyone enough not to have to answer any questions.
Liz, more than the others, figured out the story. She also knew that the ending was a real tearjerker. Cat was sure Liz would lend a shoulder just as she had done for her, but her grief felt too private, too personal to share. So she cried alone, the tears having no effect on the pain of the separation.
And yet, as much as Luke, she had agreed there was no other way. Even when she felt her most miserable, she never once ran to a phone to call him. What would she say? Was she going to tell him she was packing her bags to move to San Francisco so she could try her hand at cooking steaks again? He didn't want a wife any more than she was ready to deal with a husband. She hadn't even done particularly well dealing with him as her lover.
She was beginning to get the tears under control. Her battle with Dodger on Skiros had helped. Cat's mind was now busily plotting how to get around what she viewed as her father's overly cautious concerns.
That evening she had dinner with Joanie and Dodger. Cat was in better spirits, except for the sharp, painful ache she felt when the happy couple discussed their romantic honeymoon plans. Dodger was suspicious of the change, but he was relieved to see his daughter smile for the first time in days.
"We were going to stay in Greece," Joanie said, reaching for Dodger's hand, "get married here and then tour some of the other islands. But we decided on a good old-fashioned church wedding with all the trimmings. And then, Niagara Falls." She grinned at Dodger. "That was your father's idea. He said it was his secret fantasy."
Dodger flushed. "Come on, Joanie. You thought it was a real romantic idea."
"It is." She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"Now the only thing I've got to do," Joanie said to Cat, "is figure out some way to get your father to slow down his pace so we can fix up that ranch of his."
"You're moving out to the ranch?" Cat asked in surprise. "That place is a total shambles."
"That's how I managed to buy it in the first place," Dodger reminded her. The ranch, as they called it, was a ten-acre spread in the San Joaquin Valley. There was a house and barn on the property, both of which were barely still standing. It had been advertised as one of those handyman specials. Handymen was more like it—a good dozen of them at least.
"You don't want to take Joanie out there. It would take you years to get the house into shape."
"We're not only planning to fix up the house," Joanie said enthusiastically. "We want to do a little farming, maybe raise some horses and cattle. It will be slow going, but we Ye both real excited about it."
Cat smiled wistfully. "So I see." It must be nice, she thought, to want the same things out of life that the man you love wants. She wondered if she could ever make the kind of transition Joanie and Dodger were going to make. They'd both spent a lot of years always on the go, traveling from one side of the earth to the other. Cat had been on those travels with both of them and knew that they had felt the same excitement and wanderlust that she still felt. But now they seemed able to let go of that part of their lives for something else—a life-style that would allow them to be together, not just physically but in spirit as well.
Dodger looked across at Cat. "That spread of mine has plenty of space on it for another house. If you ever settle down someday…"
"I don't think so, Dodger. I guess I'm just not 'the settlin' type."
She couldn't see herself on that ranch any more than she could see herself with Luke at those medical conventions she'd had all those nightmares about.
The time for fantasy was over. She had to recapture the spirit and excitement of her work. And she knew just the way to do that.
By nine o'clock the meal was over. Cat stretched and told the lovebirds she was going to turn in early. She had a feeling they planned to do the same and was certain they would not be disappointed by her departure.
Her bungalow was in a small beach complex where the cast and crew occupied their own digs or buddied up with two or three others. Peter Whitney had a choice cottage right at the ocean's edge, as did the two co-stars. Instead of turning east toward her own place, Cat headed straight ahead toward the sea.
She knocked on Peter Whitney's door. A familiar voice invited her in.
"Hi, Cat." Liz Fuller, decked out in a very alluring "at home" soft blue silk gown, greeted Cat with casual ease. Dreamy mood music played in the background, the lights dimmed low.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," Cat answered, a note of surprise in her tone. Wasn't it a week ago that Liz was dabbing cotton on her tearstained face because of Tony Vargos and Cat was desperately trying to console her?
"Close your mouth, sweetie." Liz chuckled. "Even on you, it's not your most becoming image."
Cat laughed, shaking her head. "You are a wonder, Liz. I gather…"
"You gather right." Liz gracefully rose from her half-reclined position on the couch. She walked over to the makeshift bar to pour herself another glass of champagne and one for Cat.
"Sit down and let your shock subside. I know what you're thinking. How could I have forgotten all about my heartfelt passion for Tony? And how could I replace him with Peter, who I've cursed from one continent to another?"
"Where is Peter?" Cat asked, not taking the offered seat. She assumed Liz would not be so chatty if he were about to pop out of the next room, but Cat was not in the mood for chats.
"He really is a charmer," Liz went on blithely. "Believe me, no one could be more surprised than me. On the set the man is a horrible tyrant. I still think he's audacious, impossible, and pigheaded. We share a lot in common"—she grinned—"on and off screen. He's gone for some more champagne and I think, roses. Or some kind of flowers. He has this desire to see me—"
"That's okay. You can leave it to my imagination," Cat said, starting toward the door. "I'll catch Peter in the morning."
"Hold on. You haven't touched your drink. Peter won't be back for a few minutes, so you don't have to race out."
Cat stood awkwardly near the door. She took a sip of her champagne.
"What happened to 'blood sisters?" Liz asked after a few moments.
"I'm fine, Liz," Cat said softly. There was no point denying the implication of Liz's remark. "Hearts heal, right? You certainly know that… sorry. I didn't mean that the wa
y I think it sounded. The truth is, I envy your recuperative powers. I'm more than ready to take lessons, sis," she said with an affectionate grin.
"My heart wasn't broken over Tony. Just my pride. I also wasn't in love with him. If I was really stuck on the guy, I would never have let him off the hook so easily. I've learned that in love and movies you have to fight tooth and nail to get what you want."
"Well, I've never been particularly good at hammering nails in straight. Now I'm trying to be very mature and philosophical about the whole experience."
"How are you at philosophy?" Liz queried, a small smile on her lips.
"Lousy. I'm flunking my course in psychiatry, too. I figure the safest thing to do is stick to stunting. I've discovered it's much less risky than being in love." Cat laughed softly, but there was no humor to the sound. She set her glass of champagne on a nearby table and started toward the door. The last thing she needed right now was to be the third wheel in another hot romance.
She was just about to reach for the doorknob when the door swung open. Peter rushed in, a bottle of champagne in one arm and a huge bouquet of olive branches in the other. Not roses but creative and romantic nonetheless, Cat thought. She took another step toward the door, eager to get around the man bearing gifts.
Peter wouldn't hear of it. At least not until he found out the reason for Cat's surprise visit.
"No problem on Skiros today?" Always the director first. He laid his gear on a chair.
Cat grinned. "Not a problem. I have a terrific idea for improving the gag."
"Obviously, Dodger doesn't agree. He left me a note warning me you might drop by, and he wants me to veto whatever you have in mind. "
Liz sidled up to Peter. She gave Cat a sly smile. "Dodger has a pretty good notion of what's in his daughter's best interest. He also doesn't like to be crossed. Peter knows that from experience, right, darling?"
Before Peter could answer, Cat broke in. "Look, I don't want to—to keep you, but it's a minor change that would make the stunt terrifically dramatic. Dodger never gave me a chance to prove it's as safe as crossing the street. This could be a topper to Bullitt. All it requires are a few engineering changes to alter the car's suspension so that when I round my last turn before bailing out, I lean onto the shoulder and ride it oft on two wheels. If we make sure the balance is right, I come back down on all fours, take my spin and bail out as planned."
"You're crazy, Cat," Liz argued, concerned by the look of excitement on her friend's and her director's faces. "That car is rigged with enough dynamite to blow you to kingdom come if you misjudge a fraction and topple that Porsche instead of righting it. I may not do the stunts, but after all these years in the business, I know when a gag is insane."
"Dodger will never go along with it," was Peter's comment.
"I don't intend for him to know about it. You give me the okay, make sure the mechanics keep their mouths closed about the alterations to my car—and get ready to film the most spectacular car gag of your film career."
"Cat!" Liz pleaded, then turned to Peter. "She's going to get herself killed. You can't allow her to do it."
"Peter," Cat broke in, ignoring Liz, "it sounds like a reckless, daredevil piece of insanity, but believe me, I've worked it out to the letter. I can do it. I'm not looking for an early entry to heaven. I have no intention of even getting scratched on this ride. It will make this chase one of the best ever done."
"You're sure you can keep that baby under your control?"
Cat smiled. "You just watch me."
Liz knew she was not going to be able to talk sense into either of them. Certainly not Cat. Now that Cat had won Peter over, she had that look of determination in her eye that defied anyone to get in her way. Maybe later Peter would be more amenable to listening to reason.
Luke wasn't working on his book; he had no heart for wandering the beach collecting seashells; and he'd lost his taste for ouzo. Several times he thought seriously about packing up and heading for home. But something held him here. He was well aware that that "something" was Cat.
He had spent days telling himself everything had worked out for the best. Certainly, if this whole business had happened to one of his patients, he would have been completely supportive of the man's determination to break off a no-win situation. So why was he feeling so damn miserable?
Time, he told himself, was all he needed. You don't fall madly in love with someone and feel no pain after a few days—even when you know that ending it rationally is the sanest thing to do.
Max Hart sprang into his mind. What was it his friend had said? A little insanity is sometimes healthy. Luke had to admit one thing. Pure sanity could feel like hell.
The worst time for Luke was when he'd go out for the evening—take a long walk or sip beer in a local taverna—then return to his bungalow and look over at his empty bed. Maybe there was still a touch of madness left in him. He kept finding himself wishing for hallucinations, wanting visions of Cat to dance before his eyes, wanting to see her sensuous form sprawled out on his sheets.
No magical visions appeared, but memories continued to haunt him. And dreams. That morning he had woken up in a sweat. The same had happened for the past few days. He kept having sickening nightmares of Cat going through one of her stunts. Something would always go wrong. In his previous nightmares he could sense impending disaster, but he always managed to wake himself up before anything actually happened. That morning the horror of his awful dream had held him in its clutches to the bitter end. When he finally woke up, his sweat was accompanied by a trembling feeling in his body. He couldn't seem to shake the dream from his mind.
He got out of bed, made himself some breakfast, and ran down to the beach for a swim. When he got back to the bungalow, the local woman who came each morning to straighten up was already there. Luke's bathing suit was nearly dry, and he put off changing while Mrs. Kolitas finished up.
She greeted him cheerfully, hurrying around the room, making the bed, rinsing out his few breakfast dishes, and sweeping the sand off the floor. Luke did not bother to engage Mrs. Kolitas in any conversation; her English consisted of only a few words. He smiled, offering a greeting in Greek, and sat down at his desk to work. Even as he forced himself to write, successfully ignoring Mrs. Kolitas's movements around the room, he could not shake the weird presentiment of doom still hanging on from that awful nightmare.
When the cleaning woman left, Luke pushed his papers aside. He was too on edge to work. The coffee was only lukewarm now, but he poured himself a second cup.
He heard a knock on his door and opened it to find a pale, sober-looking Dodger Roy standing on the front step. He almost dropped the cup of coffee out of his hand.
First that nightmare, and now Cat's father. Luke was visibly shaken.
Dodger, seeing the effect his presence had on Luke, quickly assured him nothing was wrong—yet.
"Yet?"
"I had a visit this morning from Liz Fuller. She's the star—"
"I know. What did she say?"
"Well, you see, there's this gag we have planned for this afternoon. A wild chase around Skiros— you know the island?"
"I haven't been there. It's a good three or four hours from this island if you're lucky enough to get a ferry."
"We chose it because it's got the right setup and it's not too populated. There's no problem getting the roads cleared to do the stunt."
"Another car crash into brick walls?" Luke could not disguise the sarcastic bite to his voice.
Dodger sighed. "Car crashes are 'in' this year. Everyone's trying to outdo everyone else in these suspense yarns with bigger, better, and more daring chase scenes. They want the audience falling off the edge of their seats, and my crew is the group that's supposed to make that happen. This time around we eliminate brick walls; you never repeat the same gag for two pictures in a row. If I did that, I would be out of a job."
"What exactly are you worried about?" Luke asked pointedly.
"Well
, I have to admit it's only a gut feeling. But I just can't seem to shake it off."
Luke was all too familiar with that feeling today.
"Liz told me she was pretty sure Cat was secretly planning a dangerous trick in today's stunt. I confronted Cat before coming over here, and she swears she changed her mind after sleeping on it. I don't believe her."
"I'd trust your instinct," Luke said. "Just what is she planning?"
"Yesterday, while we were running through the stunt, Cat tells me she wants to add this crazy piece of daredevil business to her drive. I vetoed it cold. The last time a guy did something similar, he broke half the bones in his body. And that was only because he was lucky and the car wasn't rigged with explosives. If Cat tried that stunt and goofed, it would not be broken bones we'd be talking about."
"But if you vetoed it, how can she go ahead with it?"
"Luke, you must know Cat pretty well by now." He grinned. "She's always been stubborn and dead set on getting her own way. Usually, I can manage the upper hand with her. But this time… She's been in one hell of a bad mood these past few days. I don't think she's thinking straight, that's for sure. That rebellious spirit in her is something else right now. I don't mean to pry, but did you two have a fight or something?"
"We didn't have a fight. We had a calm, rational, intelligent discussion about the impossibility of our relationship. We both agreed it made sense to end it now before we got in any deeper." Luke's voice was tight, his chin contracting as he spoke.
"I see." Dodger rubbed his jaw, his eyes on Luke's. "You both figured it was for the best?"
"Right." Luke's response lacked conviction. How could feeling this miserable be best?
"I'm pretty sure she's in love with you. But I guess you know that. I was hoping, with her feeling the way she does about you, maybe you could talk some sense into her before she went and did something crazy. But I guess you've done all your talking already."
"You sure know how to dig in there, Dodger." Luke smirked. "Can't you stop her? Take her off the stunt if you believe she's going to pull something."