Wild Action

by Dawn Stewardson

  “Sure,” Nick told him. “Want to see him do it again, Jay?”

  The director glared at him. “I hope you’re a better bear trainer than you are a comedian.”

  Smoothing his hair, he looked at the mothers and snapped, “Keep those kids away from the animals, understand?”

  When they nodded in unison, Jay turned his glare on Carly.

  “I’m so s-sorry,” she stammered. “It’s the color orange. It sometimes makes him freak out.”

  When Jay glanced over at Crackers as if he’d like to wring his little feathered neck, Goodie said, “You’re lucky he didn’t sink those claws into your head. If he had, I’d be starting to believe this movie really is jinxed. But come on, let’s go make sure all the equipment made the trip safely.”

  Jay nodded, then looked at Carly again. “Goodie and I will be back after we’ve had lunch. I’d like you to show us the bear then. And you think you can keep that parrot in a cage for the duration?”

  “Well, the bird likes his freedom,” Nick said. “So we’re not going to coop him up in a cage for a month or more. But all you need to do is tell everyone not to wear orange.”

  “Or maybe we could see if the chef has a recipe for parrot cacciatore,” Jay muttered.

  IT TOOK AT LEAST fifteen minutes for Carly to get Crackers back into the solarium—by which point the baseball cap was in shreds.

  Nick had hovered nearby while she’d coaxed and cajoled, but he wasn’t nearly as much help with the bird as he was with Attila. She probably shouldn’t have told him Crackers could amputate a man’s hand.

  Just as Crackers finally flew onto his perch, the phone began to ring.

  “Don’t you move,” Carly said sternly, pointing her finger at him before she reached for the phone.

  “Hi, darling,” her mother’s voice greeted her.

  “Oh, hi, Mom, What’s up?”

  “Nothing much. I just wondered if you’d heard exactly when your movie people are arriving.”

  “Actually, they got here about half an hour ago.”

  “Oh, good. And is everything going well so far?”

  “Everything’s just fine.” Except for the fact that Attila might not perform for the camera and an unnervingly attractive man was living in her house. Not to mention having an entire horde of people setting up camp in her field and a parrot who’d come close to scalping the man who could make or break Wild Action.

  “Well, I won’t keep you, dear. But we were curious about what happened when you met with the lawyers. How did that nephew of Gus’s take to learning that he’d left half the estate to you?”

  “Ahh, he took it pretty well.” She glanced over and saw that Nick was still hovering. “Actually, he’s going to be staying here while they’re shooting. He’s helping out with Attila.”

  “Really” her mother said, packing about thirteen questions into one word.

  Carly had no desire to answer even one of them with Nick standing there listening, so she said, “Mom, things are pretty hectic and I’ve got to run. But I’ll call you in a few days—let you know when you should drive down.”

  “All right, dear. We’re really looking forward to it. Your father won’t admit it, but he’s been a little bored since he retired, and he’s really interested in seeing a movie being shot. And Lisa’s just dying to meet Garth Richards.”

  “I’ll call as soon as I know what’s what. ‘Bye for now.

  “My mother,” she told Nick as she hung up. “My parents and sister want to come down for a few days and see how movies are made.”

  “Your sister lives with them?”

  “No, she’s a year older than me and married. But she’s a big Garth Richards fan. And she’s a teacher, so she’s free during the summer.”

  Wondering what her family was going to think when they got a look at the man who was sharing the house with her, she turned her attention back to Crackers and told him to get into his cage. Instead, he tucked his head under his wing, trying to make himself invisible.

  “I thought he hated being in there during the day,” Nick said.

  Carly shot him a warning glance. She was hardly happy about the way he’d been such a smart ass with Jay; she just hadn’t had a chance to discuss it with him yet. And at the moment, she could certainly do without his taking the bird’s side.

  “He’s got to learn he can’t behave like that,” she said. “And when Jay gets back here, I want him to see we’re being cooperative. Crackers, move it,” she added.

  His head bowed, he shuffled along his perch and kicked a bar of the cage with one foot.

  “In,” she said firmly. “You can come back out at dinnertime if you promise to be. good.”

  He gave the cage another kick, graced her with a bird’s version of a dirty look, then eased inside.

  “And the next time you get another birdbrained idea, remember this is what happens.” -She carefully latched the door, then turned to Nick. “As for you, were you deliberately trying to annoy Jay?”

  “What? All I said was we weren’t going to keep Crackers in his cage for an entire month.”

  “That’s not what I was referring to. I meant your line about most of your experience being with cats. If you’d told him you meant the neighbor’s pussycat, I’d have killed you. And when you asked if he’d like to see Crackers come swooping down at him again… What on earth were you thinking of?”

  “Well, the guy’s a schmuck and I—”

  “That is entirely beside the point. The point is we want him to think Wild Action is terrific, remember? So when he goes back to L.A. he’ll give his friends rave reviews about us.”

  “A guy like that can’t have any friends. And stop talking to me as if I were twelve years old. You may own fifty-one percent of this operation, but don’t try laying down rules about what I can and can’t say to people.”

  “That’s not what I was doing. I was merely offering a little constructive criticism—which you obviously can’t take. Dammit, Nick, you’re exactly like Gus.”

  “Oh? Now why does that sound like an insult? Yesterday, you told me Gus was the sweetest man in the world.”

  “Except when he was too stubborn to listen! Then he’d put a mule to shame.”

  Nick turned on his heel and started across the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” Carly demanded as he opened the back door.

  “I’ve got a few mules to put to shame.”

  “We don’t have any mules.”

  “Then I’ll make do with the ponies.”

  Punctuating his exit line by letting the screen slam shut behind him, Nick headed around the side of the house—not wanting to admit to himself that Carly’s criticism hadn’t been completely off base. Put him face-to-face with a jerk like Jay Wall and he just couldn’t resist saying the odd thing he shouldn’t. It was a weakness that had gotten him into more trouble than he cared to think about.

  Deciding to check out the camp while his temper cooled, he wandered down the drive to the field and surveyed the scene.

  There were four generator trucks the size of large moving vans, as well as about fifteen equipment trucks and at least as many trailers and RVs. One of the outside trailers had a sign indicating it was the kitchen, and half a dozen tables with chairs had already been set up at one end.

  The site was buzzing with people, all of whom looked busy, so he just walked around the perimeter of the ragged rows, sizing things up and trying to get his mind off Carly. But she was just too annoying to stop thinking about.

  He really didn’t like the way she’d talked to him like a damn drill sergeant, and he’d have had a lot more to say to her if her little lecture hadn’t taken him by surprise. But now he was adding “control freak” to his list of her negative traits.

  Glancing back at the house, he told himself he’d better not stay away too long. She’d really light into him if he wasn’t there when Jay and Goodie arrived to see Attila. And hell, if he wanted any lunch he should probably head back r
ight now.

  He started up the drive and was about halfway along it when a woman materialized beside him. A redhead somewhere in her thirties, she was very good looking—in an overdone, L.A. sort of way.

  “Hi,” she said, giving him a smile that looked as if she practiced it in front of a mirror.

  A Hollywood smile, he decided as he stopped walking and said, “Hi” in return.

  “I saw you talking to Jay and Goodie when we first got here, so you must be…?”

  “Nick Montgomery. The new partner in Wild Action.”

  “Oh? Last I heard, Gus Montgomery had died and Carly was in charge.”

  “Well, the partnership’s a pretty recent development.”

  She nodded. “I’m Barbara Hunt, the set director. I just wanted to ask if it’s okay to wander around a little. I’d hate to be the parrot’s next victim.”

  “You’re safe at the moment. He’s locked up. And for the future, just don’t wear anything orange.”

  “Oooh.” She gave a little shudder. “Not my color at all. See you around, Nick,” she added, heading off.

  When he started toward the porch again, he saw Carly was standing on it—and not alone. She was talking with a lanky, bearded fellow who had interest written all over him.

  That, Nick found annoying, although he couldn’t figure out why. He’d known this was the wrong time and place for an entanglement even before Carly had started displaying her true nature. And since she had, he’d realized she was about as far from his ideal woman as she could be.

  He headed up the steps, not sure if he should stop for an introduction or just leave her to whatever she was doing with this guy.

  She made up his mind by saying, “Nick, this is Royce Chalmers. He’s worked on a couple of the documentaries Gus and I were involved with, and he’s Jay’s number one cameraman for the film.

  “Or at this point,” she added to Royce, “should I be saying you’re Jay’s director of photography?”

  When Royce laughed, the sound grated in Nick’s ears.

  “We’ve hardly done a full week’s shooting, and Jay’s already fired his director of photography,” Royce explained. “A couple of reels of film got lost, and Screaming Jay blamed him.”

  “Screaming Jay?” Nick repeated.

  “Yeah, that’s what everyone calls him. Behind his back, of course. You’ll see why. Or hear why, I should say.”

  “What?” Nick asked Carly when he noticed she was looking anxious.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “But Royce was telling me Jay’s legendary for firing people. That he doesn’t even bother hiring an assistant director anymore, because he always fires them after a couple of days.”

  “So this isn’t the first time you’ve worked for him,” Nick said to Royce.

  “No, he’s shot a couple of other pictures in Toronto, and he uses mostly local crews.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then Carly glanced at Nick and asked, “Who was that redhead you were talking to?”

  Before he could answer, Royce said, “Barbara Hunt, our set director.”

  He looked around like a street informer, worried that someone would overhear, then continued in a lowered voice. “Maybe I’d better fill you in about her so you don’t say the wrong thing to anyone.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A Walk in the Woods

  “BARB IS Brian Goodfellow’s wife,” Royce explained.

  “Really?” Carly said. “He’s a lot older than her, isn’t he?”

  “He’s also a lot richer, which was probably his main attraction. At any rate, Jay never wanted her, but she got the job because Goodie’s financing the movie. Then, about a week after she signed her contract, the story goes that they got into a hell of a row over something. The grapevine says they’re both highly volatile and pretty unstable.”

  “She seemed normal enough to me,” Nick said.

  “Well, you can’t believe everything you hear, but one version of the story is that she pulled a gun and threatened to shoot Goodie’s balls off.”

  Nick felt a chill in his loins.

  “Anyway,” Royce went on, “whatever really happened, Goodie sent her packing. And now she’s about to become ex-wife number four or five.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Carly said. “And she went ahead with working on the movie? That must be awfully awkward.”

  “Yeah. When both the producer and director wish you were anywhere else on earth, it can’t be exactly comfortable.”

  “Then why would she want to be here?” Carly asked.

  “She says she wasn’t going to throw away a job on a terrific film just because her presence would make Goodie uncomfortable. And it’s obvious she figures he deserves to be uncomfortable. But I think the real reason she hung in is that she sees this movie as her big chance. She’s worked on sets for years, but nobody’s given her a shot at set director before—and you’ll see why. She’s in way over her head.”

  “So if Jay’s big on firing people, why not her?" Nick asked.

  “Apparently he tried to, but she’s not the type to take things lying down. She showed up at his office with a lawyer and threatened to sue both him and Goodie for breach of contract—and do whatever else she could to hold up production. That would have cost a fortune, so I guess they wanted the expense even less than they wanted her.

  “But look, I’ve got to get going,” Royce added. “I just thought I’d say hello before I headed back to Toronto. I was telling Carly,” he explained to Nick, “that somehow all the camera filters got left behind. I’ve got to drive back and find them or we won’t be filming tomorrow. But at least I came up in my own car, so I can just disappear for a few hours without telling Jay that somebody goofed.”

  “But you’ll miss lunch,” Carly said. “I was about to make something anyway, so would you like to—”

  Royce waved off the suggestion. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. I’m telling you, though, this is shaping up to be the worst-luck movie I’ve ever worked on.”

  “You’re the second person who’s said something like that,” Nick told him. “Goodie made a remark about thinking it was jinxed.”

  “Even Goodie’s admitting it, eh? The big shots usually like to pretend everything’s fine, but I guess there’ve been just too many problems to ignore.”

  As Royce headed off, Nick said, “You think this jinx thing makes the odds on Attila eating me higher than you were figuring?”

  “Attila is not going to eat you,” Carly said. “Movie people are simply like that. I mean, every so often they decide a shoot is jinxed. That doesn’t mean it really is, though. It’s just a silly belief—like believing bad luck comes in threes.”

  Nick forced a smile. But didn’t she know bad luck often did come in threes? Hell, it had just happened to him.

  And if she didn’t realize that some superstitions had a basis in fact, she probably didn’t know a damn thing about jinxes, either. He just hoped she didn’t get a lesson about them when they took Jay and Goodie to see Attila.

  “Nick?”

  He looked at her.

  “There’s something I’d better tell you. Attila doesn’t like people yelling. It really upsets him.”

  “And they call Jay, Screaming Jay,” Nick said, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. “Well, we’ll have to say something to him right away.”

  “Yes, but let me do it. You might say something that would…offend him.”

  “What? You mean something like, ‘If you ever raise your voice while I’m working with the bear, you’ll be a dead man?”

  “Well…yes.”

  “Fine, then you do the explaining. And if he forgets, I’ll do the killing.”

  “HE’S NOT EXACTLY huge, is he Goodie,” Jay said, disappointment dripping from his words.

  Nick gave Carly a pained look. If Jay was standing on their side of the fence, in the field with Attila, he’d think the bear was downright enormous.

  “You know, I should have gone with a
grizzly. Or maybe a polar bear.”

  “That wouldn’t have done much for the movie’s integrity,” Goodie said. “I mean, the kids are supposedly lost in upper New York State, and you’d hardly find a grizzly or a polar bear wandering around there.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I guess that’s a good point. I just wish this one was bigger.”

  “He’s actually very large for a black bear,” Carly said. “And when he stands up…Show them, Nick.”

  “Attila, two feet” he ordered—then tried not to let his relief show when the bear obediently raised up onto his back feet. He still hadn’t shaken the fear that Attila was going to lash out at him one of these times instead of doing what he was told.

  “Good boy. Now go and say hello to those men,” he added, giving a hand signal.

  Attila grunted, then took a couple of steps toward Jay and Goodie.

  They almost fell over each other backing off.

  “That fence is electrified, isn’t it?” Goodie asked from several yards away.

  “No, there’s no reason for it to be,” Carly told him.

  “He doesn’t have a problem with any colors or anything, does he?” Jay said nervously.

  “No, as I explained, his only problem is he doesn’t like people yelling.”

  “Want to come in here and feed him some chicken, Jay?” Nick pointed at the pail and pretended he didn’t notice Carly giving him the evil eye.

  He was still annoyed that she figured she had the right to lecture him, and he’d be damned if he was going to let her think he’d paid attention.

  “Ahh…maybe I’ll try feeding him another time,” Jay said.

  “You, Goodie?”

  “Me? No, I have allergies. I’d better not get too close to him.”‘

  “Is there anything in particular you’d like to see him do?” Carly asked.

  Nick shot her an uneasy glance, wishing she wouldn’t push their luck.

  “No,” Jay said. “I mostly just wanted to see how big he was so we’ll get the stand-in right.”

  “Stand-in?” Nick said.

  Jay looked at him as if he were an idiot, while Carly explained. “It takes a minimum of two or three hours to light a set, so they use stand-ins for the actors while they’re doing it.”