Survival Instinct (Instinct Series)

by Janie Crouch

  Her eyes closed at the blessed coolness.

  “Are you all right?” Shane’s fingers wrapped around her arm shocked her in returning to reality. The noise all came flying back into her head. “Do you need a doctor?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Just so we’re clear, my job is not to guard Alexandra Adams. She has her own security team for that. My job is to coordinate all security and catch the bastard doing this.”

  “Maybe this was just an accident. Or a practical joke or something.” God, she wanted to believe that more than anything. That perhaps the voice she’d heard hadn’t actually meant to truly hurt someone, just cause trouble for the show.

  “Joke? Accident? If so, it was one hell of a coincidence. You know what twelve years as an Army Ranger taught me?”

  She couldn’t seem to look away from his blue eyes. “Besides how to play beach volleyball and buzz the tower?”

  He smiled and her breath actually left her for a second. It softened everything about him. “Of course. But also, fun size, that when it comes to an enemy, there are no coincidences. Day’s End has an enemy.”

  Chapter Six

  Shane spent the next two days continuing to immerse himself in Day’s End. The set, the cast, the crew. Familiarizing himself with routines, ways of getting on and off the set, and even the vendors that serviced the show. Made sure he knew everyone and everyone knew him.

  Day’s End was a huge enterprise and had been shooting here in western North Carolina for years. Even his grandmother had mentioned “that strange television show that shot nearby.” Grammi had never had anything bad to say about the cast and crew and their influx into the relatively unknown town of Black Mountain, North Carolina. But it had definitely been a change. One that had brought in lots of money, jobs, and popularity, but also the problems that came with tons of extra people.

  Most of the cast and crew lived locally either in Black Mountain or the surrounding areas during the seven months out of the year that they did the shooting. Chloe lived here on the set in her trailer. The stars, including Alexandra, had both luxury trailers on the sets and homes in the town.

  The number of people who worked in supporting a show of this size was staggering. Vetting them all would take longer than Shane could do on his own in a year. He’d already called Zac and, after being put on speakerphone and grilled by all his ex—Ranger buddies on what it was like to breathe the same air as Alexandra—he’d deliberately left out the “call me Lexi” part, knowing they’d never leave that alone—Adams, had gotten Linear Tactical working on the background checks, with full financial support from the studio. If there was someone with a record or history of mental illness in any of the cast, crew, or supporting vendors, Shane would be notified.

  But Shane wasn’t resting on that. A stalker who was stealthy enough to move around for weeks without drawing anyone’s attention probably didn’t have either.

  Chloe once again was glaring at Shane between sips of coffee from across the large conference table where everyone sat for today’s all-hands meeting. She’d been glaring at him pretty constantly for the last two days. But today it was tinged with exhaustion. Brackets around her mouth and a tiredness pulling at her posture. Her hands cupped the mug as if it was a lifeline.

  This meeting was necessary, but obviously not what any of them wanted to be doing. The director, assistant director, and stunt coordinator sat on one side of the table. Alexandra and five of the other principal actors, their security guards crowding the wall behind them, sat on the other. Chloe and her creative team sat at the far end.

  The studio wanted to send in a lot more security, but so far Chloe was holding them off. She’d allowed three extra bodyguards, two of them going to Alexandra, one just as a general presence.

  Little rebel wanted nothing if not her creative freedom. She’d kept arguing with the studio there was no actual proof that the stalker had been involved in the lake accident.

  Shane didn’t think she actually believed that, but she wanted to keep everything as natural as possible, as she’d been fighting for the whole time. Shane wouldn’t argue, at least not yet. Right now they needed to figure out where to consolidate their focus.

  The scuba diver had fully recovered and was already home from the hospital. Ended up that his air tank had been contaminated, a potent mixture with too much carbon monoxide.

  It did happen in scuba diving. Not often, but it did. Just like the hydraulic malfunction of the platform holding the car. Malfunctions did happen.

  But both happening on the same day? In Shane’s professional opinion that did not happen.

  And he knew, although he didn’t want to discuss this with Chloe until he had proof, the stalker was someone inside the show. Everyone speculated that it was an extra, or crazy fan who snuck in, but Shane didn’t think so. Leaving the weapons and notes had been one thing. Sabotaging a complex hydraulic system and scuba gear so they both malfunctioned within a few minutes of each other? That required someone who had inside knowledge of how the show worked, as well as its people and scheduling.

  Someone in Chloe’s set family was a traitor. Shane fully intended to find out who.

  Shane turned to the people around the table and reported that Suzie the stuntwoman and the safety diver were both going to be fine. No lasting damage. The words were barely out of his mouth before Alexandra took over the conversation.

  “It could’ve been me in that car!” she screeched. “What if the hydraulics had failed an hour earlier? I didn’t have an oxygen mask for backup like Suzie. I don’t know how to break the window! I would’ve drowned. This is unacceptable.”

  The stunt coordinator didn’t like to be accused of sub-par work. “The hydraulics were thoroughly checked. We don’t put our people into unsafe situations.”

  Alexandra rolled her eyes. “It looks like you certainly did two days ago.”

  Shane held up a hand to stop a fight before it started. “I believe the stunt was sabotaged.”

  He could feel Chloe glaring at him from across the table, but didn’t care.

  “By the stalker?” Alexandra asked, her voice an even higher octave. Dogs would soon start howling.

  He nodded. “Probably.”

  Chloe put her coffee mug down on the table. “Don’t stalkers have an M.O., a pattern, or something? Why would he go from letters and leaving stuff lying around to sabotaging a stunt?”

  “Because I believe the stalker’s purpose is to shut down the show. I think he was trying to scare everyone with the letters, that didn’t work so he’s upped his game. Added the weapons, then decided to take it further when that didn’t yield the results he wanted.”

  “Great,” Alexandra threw her hands in the air. “So I’m not safe. Nobody is.”

  Chloe glared at him further from across the table as everyone began talking at once. The director was trying to soothe Alexandra. If Alexandra decided these weren’t conditions she could work under, then the stalker would definitely get what he wanted. The show would shut down.

  The stunt coordinator was still defending the safety of the equipment to anyone who would listen. The other actors discussed whether they would be next in the stalker’s line of fire.

  Chloe just raised a brow and held her hand up as if to suggest he had caused all the pandemonium.

  “People.” Chloe’s brown eyes broke from his as she raised her voice. As soon as she spoke, everyone in the room stopped talking, a testament to both Chloe’s place in the show, and the respect others had for her. Even Alexandra got quiet.

  “Alexandra.” Chloe faced the woman. “We’re going to focus security around you. You’re right, it looks like someone has unfortunately decided to make you the center of their crazy. Not sure how you got so lucky. I’m jealous.”

  Chloe smiled and everyone chuckled, the tension easing slightly. She continued. “Westman is right, we need to bring in more security. I’ve been fighting the studio on that, because I like our family here the way it i
s, even with the perverted uncle.” She winked at the stunt coordinator and everyone laughed again. “But we’ll get what we need to make sure you’re safe, Alexandra. To make sure everyone is safe.”

  Chloe stood. “This is going to get handled. So everyone needs to focus on their jobs and on making Day’s End the best show it can be. We have a great security team who will handle the rest.”

  The meeting was over. Nobody announced it as such, but Chloe had addressed the fears suffocating everyone and assured them she would take care of it. And they believed her. A few more things were said, questions asked, but soon everyone was on their way with a renewed energy. They’d lost a day and a half of production and needed to make that up. There was work to be done. They all trusted Chloe to take care of any other problems.

  Shane gave Markus a nod as he left with Alexandra, who smiled at Shane and trailed her fingers along his shoulder from where he sat in the chair. Everyone else filed out also, even the creative team.

  Leaving just Shane and Chloe sitting across the table from one another, staring. A showdown.

  “What you just did was impressive,” he finally said. “I’ve been in briefings with three star generals who didn’t have as much control of the room as you did just now.”

  She just shrugged, picking up her coffee mug from the table. “We’ve all been working together a long time. They know that when I say I’ll take care of something I mean it. We trust each other.”

  “Like you said before. You’re a family.”

  Which was why it was going to hurt her to find out a member of that family—even if it was a distant one—might be the one trying to hurt the show.

  “And most importantly, we all want Day’s End to be the best it can be. We’ve been successful in that for three years, which is an eternity in television, and we’re still going strong. We all want to see that continue. So congrats, you win. I’ll call the studio today and tell them to do whatever you say. Bring in as much security as you want.” Her lips pursed in distaste.

  “I’m not trying to kill the creative spirit, Chloe. Just protect you. Everyone.”

  “I know. I just…don’t like change. Especially not the kind that brings a lot of strangers in.”

  He nodded. He didn’t want to make Chloe’s life more difficult, but there was no way around it. “We’ll focus the extra security on Alexandra. She’s had stalker threats before. We’re checking into her social media, seeing if there’s anyone who’s upped their interest in the past few months.”

  Chloe sat back in her chair. “Someone who’s as big a name as Alexandra always has issues with people like this. Crazies. Those who want to scare her, toy with her.”

  “Markus seems excellent at his job. No one is getting to her without going through him.”

  “Fine. We’ll get the extra security to help him out. But I don’t think this stalker really has intentions to kill someone. He’s just trying to cause trouble.”

  She sounded like she believed it, or that she at least wanted to. But she looked away as she said it. She was hiding something. What?

  Shane got up and walked to the opposite end of the table near her, sitting on the corner so his legs were almost touching hers. She shifted slightly, but didn’t move away. He knew he was crowding her personal space and that it was making her uncomfortable. Good.

  She needed to tell him her secret.

  “So you don’t think that diver lying face down in the water was an intent to kill someone?”

  She glanced at him before looking back down at her coffee cup. “Look, I’ve approved all the security you requested, okay? I just don’t want to blow this completely out of proportion and cause a panic. Just in case it was malfunctions during the stunt, or coincidences. You have to admit it’s possible.”

  “Neither of us believe that and you know it, Chloe.” He leaned in closer and she slid back further into her chair. “Why don’t you tell me what is really going on?”

  Her eyes darted around again. A poker player she was not.

  “Nothing’s going on. You just need to accept that our show is about crazy, freaky stuff. It brings out the crazy, freaky people. We deal with it here on a daily basis.”

  “I don’t mind crazy. I just don’t like violent.”

  She sat up straighter. “Fine. You make sure the set is secure and Alexandra and everyone else is safe. I’ve got a show to run.”

  He ran a finger down her cheek before he could help himself. “You’re tired, peanut.”

  Now an eyebrow raised. “You trying to say I look like crap, Westman?”

  Shane chuckled. “I’m trying to get you to share whatever it is you know so I can help. Like you said, you’ve got a show to run. Tell me what it is and let me take that off your shoulders.”

  He could see her consider it, which only confirmed there was something she wasn’t telling him. For a moment she closed her eyes and leaned towards him, breathing deeply, almost like she was trying to draw something out of him and into herself. But the next moment it was gone. She was shuttered again.

  “Believe me, if I had any information that would help with security, I would tell you. This show and the people involved are my first priorities.”

  She said it with such conviction he believed her. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t keeping something from him. He stepped out of her way as she stood and brushed past him, her head barely coming up to his shoulders. It was easy to forget how little she was when she had a personality that was so forceful.

  He grabbed her wrist gently as she moved past, a little surprised when she didn’t jerk away.

  “Whatever it is you’re not telling me gives the stalker more room to maneuver. You can’t carry everything, Chloe.”

  She shrugged. “I think you might be surprised exactly how much I can carry, Westman. Keep my people safe. If there’s something inside my head that will help, I’ll be sure to tell you.”

  Her phrasing—something inside her head—was odd, but Shane let it go. She was obviously done talking.

  Chloe had a secret she wasn’t ready to give up. Shane didn’t like it, but for right now he’d have to live with it.

  Chapter Seven

  The pain woke her. For a moment Chloe panicked when she couldn’t see even though her eyes were open, but then thankfully the inky blackness rolled away.

  The pain didn’t.

  She lay still on her bed inside her trailer on the set, hoping lack of motion might ease some of her agony.

  It’d been getting worse since the stunt accident. Conversation Hearts pounding his thoughts out in her head again. These emotions, so putrid and loud.

  We’ll be together soon.

  Every second I’m not with you, I miss you.

  You’re the one.

  Meant to be.

  Mine.

  She wanted to cover her ears, to turn up the radio as loud as it would go, anything to drown out his thoughts. God, she hoped he got the girl he wanted soon so he’d get out of her head. She had enough to worry about with the set’s stalker without having to worry about someone else’s.

  She felt liquid trickle down the side of her cheek and knew her nose was bleeding again. She gingerly moved her fingers to her face to catch the blood.

  This was killing her. She couldn’t deny it anymore. Fire was licking her brain, scorching her. There was only so much of this her body could take, she knew.

  Her hand reached out blindly towards the nightstand by her bed for the box of tissues then came up to catch the rest of the blood. She snuggled deeper into the blankets, not understanding how her body could feel so cold while her brain seemed to burn.

  I need you.

  We are meant for each other.

  “Yeah, I get it, jerk-off,” Chloe muttered. “You love her so much. So, so, so, so, so, so much. Go tell her, not me.”

  As much as she wanted Conversation Hearts’ emotions out of her head, she hoped whatever woman he was so engrossed with would be careful. Because he very definit
ely was obsessed. His words were tinged with desperation rather than passion.

  And they were painful on all possible levels. Not only because of their volume and intensity, but because of the words themselves. They were the most generic, unimaginative declarations of love she’d ever heard. And all his thoughts were almost completely centered around him, and what she would do for him. Nothing about her.

  Chloe eased herself from the bed, wrapping the throw at the foot around her shoulders. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get any more sleep tonight. Normally she would work, but the thought of looking at a screen right now had bile crawling up her throat.

  She would go sit in the hot tub. That sometimes helped her relax under normal circumstances. Maybe it would chase Conversation Hearts out of her head. At the very least it would warm her body.

  She couldn’t be bothered to get dressed. She was in boy shorts and a tank top, suitable enough for a hot tub especially since it was nearly three o’clock in the morning and nobody else would be around. She stumbled to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, still clutching her blanket around her shoulders. How could she feel so cold when her brain was in agonizing fire?

  Slipping on flip flops, she walked outside, gingerly taking steps away from the main sets of trailers to what they jokingly referred to as the hot tub shack. Alexandra had insisted on having it built, saying her doctor had prescribed it for relaxation. The tub was large enough for twelve people, but was enclosed on all sides by untreated wood. If someone didn’t know what it was they would think it was an outhouse, thus the name “the shack.”

  But the great thing about it was that it had no roof. The walls provided privacy – a necessity when paparazzi cameras could take pictures from hundreds of yards away – but you still had a beautiful view of the western Carolina sky.

  There was a reason they called it God’s country.

  Chloe shuffled to the shack, careful to keep her head as still as possible. Halfway there her nose began bleeding again. Her muscles seizing.