by Janie Crouch
“As soon as Chloe Jeffries wants me there, or a true crime is committed — not just vague letters and what might be a weapon, but could be a kitchen tool left lying around — I will make sure she has any and all the support she needs. That would be true of anyone in her situation.”
“And if she’s not aware of the actual threat? If she wants to hide her head in the sand? If she’s asking you to do something borderline illegal by keeping information out of official documents?” Shane’s voice was cool, almost cold.
Sheriff Linenberger leaned his elbows onto his desk and steepled his fingers together. Shane felt like he was eighteen years old again. “I am assuming since Chloe has her own personal Army Ranger, and one of the smartest and most tactically aware people I’ve ever known in my life, working at protecting her and the set, that someone on the premises is aware of the threat. And that same someone will notify law enforcement when there is actionable intel.”
Shane scrubbed his hand across his face. The hell of it all was, the sheriff was right. Right now a strong argument could be made that the Day’s End set just has piss poor luck. Just because Shane was convinced otherwise didn’t mean there was anything law enforcement could do. Like the sheriff said, actionable intel was what counted here.
“And I will not falsify a document and report for anyone, regardless of how much I like that person. Since your Grammi was such a good babysitter and took me to the swings all the time, I will overlook the fact that you implied otherwise.”
“Yes, sir.” Shane at least had the good grace to feel sheepish. “I know that. I’m just concerned with the whole situation. I don’t like coincidences.”
“And Chloe doesn’t like unwanted press. She’s had enough about her personally.”
“Like what?”
Sheriff Linenberger paused. “Personal stuff. Rumors about how she gets her creative ideas. I don’t put much stock in it, but I guess some people may.”
“I see.” He didn’t at all, but it would be something he looked into.
“Unless someone breaks the law and the studio wants to report it,” the sheriff continued, “I can’t force an investigation. Can’t force Chloe to accept any help. Can’t shut anything down. She’s stubborn. Protects that show like a mother hen. She doesn’t want her people to get hurt, I know that and I’m sure you know that too if you’ve spent any time at all with her. But she also doesn’t want to let some would-be bully back her into a corner and stop production.”
“She would’ve died, John.” Shane said. “The arson inspector can say it was an accident, and I believe it probably looks that way. But the fact is, if Chloe hadn’t turned around to call me a jackass to my face, she would’ve been in the enclosure when it blew.”
The sheriff studied Shane for a long minute. “Then let’s be thankful you’re a jackass.”
Shane gave a short bark of laughter and stood, reaching out his hand to shake the sheriff’s. “That’s basically what Chloe said. I’ll keep you updated and let you know if we need help. My gut says we will.”
“I trust your gut. We’ll be ready.” He walked with Shane to the door. “You planning to stick around? Live at your grandmother’s place?”
“No, I’m committed to a job with Linear Tactical out in Cheyenne.”
“That’s some pretty country out there. Of course, not as pretty as here. I hope you’ll think about staying.” The sheriff slapped him on the shoulder. “You know Betty would’ve wanted you to. Did she ever send you the DVD?”
“What?” Shane had no idea what he was talking about. As far as Shane knew, Grammi had never owned a DVD player. “I don’t think she had many electronics.”
The older man just chuckled. “I’m sure she left it for you somewhere.”
“Left a DVD for me? Of what?”
“Oh, you’ll know it when you see it.”
There was a lot of his grandmother’s stuff he hadn’t gone through yet. “Okay. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for it.”
Small towns. Had to love them.
Chapter Nine
Shane sat in the office he’d commandeered in the security trailer back on the set. He’d returned from the sheriff’s office hours ago. Part of him had wanted to find Chloe and have it out with her about why she was determined to have the police term this an accident.
He’d been with her, had held her shaking body when she’d realized how close she’d come to dying. She knew this was no accident. But Shane didn’t need to fight it out with Chloe to know why she was doing it. Sheriff Linenberger had said it, but Shane had already known.
Chloe would do whatever it took to protect her on—set family. Fiercely. And right now – despite the explosion that could’ve taken her life – she felt that making the press aware of the stalker and woes that had befallen the set would do more harm than the stalker himself.
Shane wished he believed the same. He’d spent the entire afternoon talking to multiple people trying to figure out why those gas canisters had been there. Nobody knew anything. Nobody had any idea why they’d been taken from the supply shed on the opposite side of the set, half an acre away, and placed in the hot tub shack. There was no logical reason for those cans to have been there.
And one very ugly reason why they would: to do as much damage as possible.
It wasn’t actionable intel, but it was a step closer to proving to himself that he was on the right track. And he planned to bring it up to Chloe to make sure there was no way she could deny that this was no accident.
A tap had Shane looking up from his desk. Travis stood in the doorway.
“You lost?” he asked. In the battle between him and Chloe, Travis had definitely been Team Chloe. Shane hadn’t talked to the man directly since the second day.
“More like here to offer my services. See if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Shane motioned for Travis to join him in the chair across from his desk. “Where’s the rest of the Brady Bunch?”
“Justin went home since we’ve been working nights so much. Chloe is in the creative zone and kicked everybody out but Nadine. She’ll probably write for like twelve hours straight. It’s amazing and a lot the show’s best scenes have been born that way.”
“Sounds pretty exhausting.”
There was something akin to awe in the other man’s voice. “It has to be, but she’s bloody amazing.”
“And Nadine gets to stay for this creative spree but nobody else does?”
Travis shrugged. “Those two have been pretty inseparable for a long time.”
“What, college? High school?”
“Longer. They both were in the same group foster home growing up. Fast friends who never separated.”
“I thought she had a sister.” Shane realized there was quite a bit he didn’t know about Chloe. Foster homes and whatever secrets the sheriff had been referring to that the gossip rags reported.
Travis nodded. “Two actually. They’re triplets. But their parents died when they were young or something, and for some reason they were separated. Chloe went into foster care.”
Shane didn’t know much about Child Protective Services but that seemed pretty harsh to separate triplets after their parents died.
And a group home? Suddenly a lot of pieces of the Chloe Jeffries puzzle clicked into place. Why she fought so hard for her misfit family. Why protection was so important to her.
“Have you known her very long?” Shane asked Travis.
“I came on board six months ago, so no. Justin and I both came on at the beginning of this season. This job is a dream come true for me. I never thought I would be on the writing team of a show this caliber.”
Shane didn’t know much about how Hollywood worked. “Pretty competitive?”
“You wouldn’t believe it. Especially for someone like me who didn’t even work in the business, have an agent, or anything. I didn’t even write until after my accident.” He held out his arm that showed the striking Lichtenberg figures again.
> “Struck by lightning, right?”
Travis nodded enthusiastically. “Best thing that ever happened to me besides the almost killing me part. After that, I left my job as manager of a bank and decided to use the creative part of my brain that seemed to be overflowing. I entered a writing contest and three months later ended up here. No place else I’d rather be. The creative energy around Chloe is amazing.”
The man’s enthusiasm definitely wasn’t faked. If he was the stalker and wanted the show to be shut down, he should get out of writing and into acting.
Shane looked at a file on his desk. “And Justin? What do you know about him?”
“Brilliant writer, but hard to work with. Seems angry all the time. A loner. But that’s not necessarily uncommon when it comes to writing. I also think he has a drinking problem. Sometimes he goes away for a few days. Never during critical writing times, but it’s always inconvenient.”
Shane made a mental note to have someone check out Justin more thoroughly. An angry loner with a propensity for being gone days at a time? Definitely deserved a second glance.
“You two were together all evening on Tuesday, right?” Shane asked. “The night of the explosion?”
“Yeah, working in The Pit. Justin is all caught up in the psychic serial killer angle. Wants to write it into the show.”
Shane vaguely remembered reading about it. “Hasn’t something like that been in the news?”
“Yeah. Somebody has been killing so—called psychics. Seven of them, from here down to Florida.”
“It does sound like a plotline that could be a part of Day’s End.”
Travis rolled his eyes. “So Justin keeps telling me. A psychic would have to be pretty special – and real, unlike all the victims of that killer – to be a part of this show. But I’m willing to give it a try, if Justin insists.”
“So you and Justin were working together the other night. You were with him the whole time?”
“Yes. Although I will admit, I closed my eyes for about thirty minutes or so. Justin was lost in his own head — which happens a lot. But look, he couldn’t have done anything because when I woke up the notebook he writes in was full of dialogue.”
Shane nodded, but knew it actually meant nothing. If anything, it was an easy way for Justin to “prove” he’d been working when it could’ve been done much earlier.
But it was way too early to be singling anybody out. There were literally hundreds of people who could be behind the set “accidents.”
Travis leaned back in his chair. “Oh my gosh, you think the stalker is a member of the cast or crew. Not just a random person or extra.”
Shane shrugged. “All I know for sure is that these accidents aren’t accidents. But yes, if I had to wager a guess I would say it’s someone with inside knowledge of what goes on around here. Someone who could come and go without being studied.”
“That’s a lot of possibilities,” Travis whispered. “And it can’t be Justin. He may be a jerk, but he wouldn’t do that to Chloe. None of the creative team would. Hell, I can’t even think of anybody on the set who doesn’t like her. I mean there are a lot of rumors... crazy stuff, but everybody likes her.”
Shane shifted further upright in his chair. The sheriff had insinuated something similar about Chloe. “Tell me the rumors.”
“Take your pick.” Travis rolled his eyes. “It’s all ridiculous. Psychic stuff again. Some people says she’s a mind reader or something. That she hears voices in her head. Some people say she worships Satan and his dark angels give her all her ideas. Some people say aliens.”
“And what do you say?”
“I say she’s freaking brilliant. Does she have more going on inside her mind than the rest of us? Maybe. But some people are just like that, you know?”
The admiration for Chloe was clear in the other man’s tone. Maybe something more than that. “You and Chloe used to be an item?”
Travis turned beet red. “No! No.” He laughed awkwardly. “I’m with Nadine. Have been for a few weeks now. I’ve never seen Chloe date anyone. She keeps to herself.”
Shane nodded. He didn’t know if Travis was unaware of the feelings he had for Chloe or if he was just unwilling to admit them, rightfully so since he was dating Chloe’s best friend. Shane wouldn’t press. It wasn’t pertinent to the situation at hand. Not to mention how much it would hurt sweet Nadine’s feelings if it was true.
“Here you are.” Nadine entered the trailer, coming around to hug Travis as he stood.
“Speak of an angel.” His arms wrapped around Nadine. Shane didn’t know if he seemed a little stiff because of the topic they’d just been discussing, or if that was just how the man normally was. “I was telling Shane I want to do whatever I can to help catch the stalker.”
“We both do. Chloe…” She trailed off, a pinched expression on her face.
“What?” He and Travis both asked at the same time.
“Is Chloe okay?” Shane asked.
Nadine brought the heels of her hands up to her eyes. “I just don’t know.”
Travis pulled her closer to him. They were almost the same height, but Nadine folded her head on his shoulder. “Chloe gets like this. You know that. When she’s writing and wants to be in her own world.”
“I know she does. But…” she stepped back from Travis, her words trailing off again.
“But what, Nadine?” Shane demanded. This was part of whatever secret Chloe was keeping, he was sure of it. When Nadine didn’t look like she was going to respond he kept pushing. “You need to tell me. I can’t help if I don’t know.”
“I don’t know what it is. Honest. She’s…she just hasn’t been feeling well.”
Shane thought of how Chloe had looked the other night on her way to the hot tub before he’d spoken to her. He’d almost thought she was drunk the way she’d been staggering and how sluggish her movements had been.
“Where is she now?”
“In The Pit. She kicked me out.”
“Does that happen often?” Shane said.
“Sometimes,” Nadine said softly.
Shane stood up. “But not like this, right? This isn’t just a creative binge she’s on.”
“I don’t know how to help her.” Nadine’s voice had dropped to a whisper as she stared at Shane. “I don’t even think she knows how to help herself.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Travis asked. “Does she have the flu or something?”
Nadine shook her head in answer to Travis’s question, but her eyes didn’t leave Shane’s.
“I’m going to talk to her right now,” Shane said.
“Are you sure that’s wise if she’s sick?” Travis frowned. “You two don’t get along on her best days.”
But Nadine nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. She may not actually like you, but you at least distract her from all the crap inside her head. And she needs that. She’s not good at asking for help.”
Shane was already standing, making his way out of his office. He could hear Travis continuing to voice his concerns but didn’t care.
He nodded to one of the security guards roaming the set as he made his way to The Pit. Nadine wanted him to distract Chloe from whatever was going on in her head? He had no problem doing that. If she needed a fight, he could give that to her. They could start with his anger over how she was having Sheriff Linenberger hide important information. Because whether either of them wanted to admit it, that’s what they were doing.
He didn’t knock on the door as he entered the trailer, the creative team entered freely in and out of here. His fighting words died on his tongue when he saw Chloe sprawled half over her desk, eyes closed. She didn’t just look like she was asleep. She looked dead.
He felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room as he rushed over to check her pulse. His relief at finding it was staggering.
She was sitting in her chair with her head on her desk. Face on top of a stapler, for God’s sake. That couldn’t be
comfortable. How exhausted did she have to be to fall asleep like that?
The pallor of her skin was frightening. The only color on her face at all was where a tiny drop of blood had dried just under her nostril. He’d seen dead people who looked more alive than she did.
Obviously she’d fallen into an exhausted slumber after kicking Nadine out. Just collapsed where she sat by the look of it.
And why had her nose been bleeding?
Shane didn’t want to wake Chloe by moving her, but he also didn’t want to leave her there sleeping on the stapler. Getting her to the couch seemed like the kindest option. He’d toss a blanket over her and let her rest. They could have their argument tomorrow.
He moved around behind her, then slid one hand gently under her head, moving it away from the stapler. He moved his other arm under her knees and lifted her as gently as he could. He half expected her to wake up, but she didn’t. She just turned her face into his chest and nuzzled.
Shane held her sleeping form, just staring down at her for a long minute. He’d regularly carried backpacks that weighed more than her. She was so feisty, lead her team—hell, the entire cast and crew—with such fearlessness, that it was easy to forget how small she really was physically. But she was obviously working herself into exhaustion. Shane didn’t know if that was normal for how television writers worked, or if, like Nadine said, Chloe just had too many stressors piling on her right now.
He was glad to see a little bit of color coming back into her cheeks. Her fretful breathing was evening out also.
Shane crossed to the couch on the opposite side of the room and laid Chloe gently on it. When he shifted away from her to get the blanket from the nearby chair she murmured fitfully.
“It’s okay, peanut,” he smiled at the thought of how much she hated him calling her that. “Go back to sleep. You need to rest. Everything else can wait.”
He draped the blanket over her body, and slid a pillow under her head. Not perfect, but definitely better than sleeping on a stapler. He walked to the door, grabbing his phone so he could text the night security guard. He wanted to make sure the team knew Chloe was in here.