Wild Action

by Dawn Stewardson

  But right now it was telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he couldn’t make love with her until he’d told her exactly how things stood. After all, he was a man of principles, even if he had glossed over a few details recently. So he was going to have to admit that he hadn’t been quite straight with her.

  He’d have to explain how he’d quit his job, then tell her about his plans to start up his own investigation agency back in Edmonton—-just as soon as he could get enough equity out of Wild Action.

  He wasn’t going to try to snow her into thinking there was a chance he might stay on here, that there was a chance for a long-term relationship. It just wouldn’t be right.

  But if he could live with the reality that there wasn’t, maybe she could, too. Especially if he told her how he felt about her.

  After he did that…

  Well, what happened then would depend on her. But before he came clean, he had to figure out the best way of explaining that he hadn’t exactly been lying to her—that he’d merely failed to correct her false assumptions.

  When he reached the camp, it looked as if pretty well everyone who’d been on the set was back. He spotted Jay talking to the makeup woman, and Goodie was lurking around the kitchen trailer—even though Raffaello couldn’t possibly have had time to get dinner ready yet.

  As he wandered between a row of trailers looking for someone he knew to try a few questions on, a female voice called, “Hi there, Nick.”

  Glancing to his left, he saw Barb Hunt, and decided she’d be as good as anyone.

  “Hey, just the lady I was looking for.”

  “Oh?” She flashed one of her Hollywood smiles and wandered over.

  “Yeah, I wanted to apologize for the way Attila wrecked your rock. I don’t imagine it’ll be the easiest thing to fix.”

  “No, but I’m not really blaming him. I mean, with that chicken there and all…What did you make of that?”

  “Well, it struck me that somebody was trying to interrupt the filming.”

  Barb nodded. “From what people are saying, that’s what everybody figures.”

  “And who do they figure it was?”

  “Who knows?” She glanced around, clearly making sure there was no one nearby. Then, her voice lowered, she said, “Most of us would have put our money on the stars, but they weren’t on the set.”

  “Oh?” Nick said. He often learned a lot more by playing dumb than by filling in the gaps.

  “Uh-huh. I don’t normally tell tales, but since you and Carly are probably the only ones working on the picture who don’t know…Well, to be blunt, Garth and Sarina hate Jay’s guts.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because Sarina had an affair with Jay a while back.” Barb paused and wrinkled her nose. Obviously she found the idea of getting it on with Jay disgusting. “And it came to a very messy end.”

  “Really?” Nick said again. So Royce hadn’t fabricated that. “Then why are they doing this movie with him?” He’d been curious about that from the first minute he’d heard the story.

  “Because Goodie twisted their arms. He’s got the movie rights to an absolutely fabulous bestseller, and he dangled the staring roles in front of their noses. But he said that if they wanted those, they had to commit to Two for Trouble.”

  “So they’re here but they’re not happy about it.”

  Barb laughed. “I think you could safely use a stronger term than not happy.”

  “Still…they weren’t on the set this morning.”

  “No. Which kind of lets them off the hook, doesn’t it? Unless they got someone else to do it.”

  “I guess they could have. But, you know, until you told me about them, I was figuring it might have been Raffaello.”

  “Oh, you heard about that set-to, did you? Jay can be so rotten to people. It’s a wonder someone hasn’t murdered him by now.”

  Nick smiled, but he was hardly happy. Since Royce hadn’t made up either story, he was no longer looking guilty as sin. Which had to put Raffaello at the top of the list, even though it seemed darned improbable that he was their man.

  But maybe there were other likely suspects he didn’t know about—and Barb might.

  “Since that chicken was obviously planted,” he said, “are people starting to figure some of the other problems were caused deliberately?”

  “For sure. You can practically see everyone looking at everyone else, wondering if they’re the troublemaker. I mean, you’ve seen the way Jay acts, so who knows? There could be dozens of people in this camp who’d just love to see him fall on his face.”

  Terrific. Nick had gone from having a couple of really strong suspects to what was sounding like an almost endless list of possibilities.

  Hell, this was reminding him of a Peter Sellers’s line from one of the old Pink Panther movies: “I suspect everyone, and I suspect no one.”

  “So there are dozens of people who might have it in for Jay,” he said, focusing his attention on Barb again. “But there aren’t any obvious suspects?”

  “Well, as I said, Sarina and Garth seemed to be until today. But even if they’d been on the set…”

  “What?”

  Barb shook her head. “Everyone working on a movie wants it to be good. It’s our names-up on the big screen when the credits roll. I mean, even the lowliest production assistant gets her few seconds of glory. So when you really start thinking about it, the idea that anyone in the cast or crew would want to screw things up…” She paused and looked toward the kitchen trailer.

  “You know,” she said, turning back toward Nick, “what you said about Raffaello’s got me thinking. He’s one of the few people who has nothing to lose if the movie flops. And when Jay was screaming at him that day, you could tell he was absolutely furious.”

  Nick could feel his adrenaline starting to pump. Sometimes an improbable suspect did turn out to be the perp. “But would Raffaello have had the opportunity to cause any of those other problems?”

  “Oh, sure. When you’ve got a chef on the set, he’s always wandering around everywhere—making sure the snack table’s looking okay and all kinds of things. After a few days, he becomes the invisible man.”

  While Barb looked in the direction of the kitchen again, Nick wondered if a chef became invisible enough to pick up a couple of reels of film and stash them under his uniform.

  “You think we should say anything to Jay?” Barb asked. “I mean, I’d really like these problems to stop. This film could do a lot for my career, but only if it does good box office.”

  “Well…I’m not sure talking to Jay’s a good idea. Not right now, at least. I raised the issue of sabotage before I left the set, and he wasn’t buying it. So we should probably just let him think on it awhile—until he’s ready to accept the obvious.”

  “Oh, yeah, I guess. It’s never smart to try telling Jay something he doesn’t want to hear.

  “So,” she went on, flashing another of her smiles, “I saw you having dinner down here last night. You want to hang around until the kitchen’s open and do a repeat?”

  He was just deciding that was a good idea, that he might pick up something of interest, when she added, “I don’t know if anyone’s told you what my situation is, but if you heard Goodie and I are married, you heard stale news. We’re splitsville, so he could care less if you and I ate together.

  “Oh, unless you and Carly are…more than business partners?”

  “No, no, that’s all we are.” But he was sure as hell hoping that would change.

  NICK WAS ALL CARLY could think about as she drove home from Port Perry, which was hardly surprising when he’d been on her mind the entire evening.

  They’d had a nude male model at their class, and the whole time she’d been trying to paint him, she’d been imagining Nick nude. She seemed to have become positively obsessed with the man.

  Not that it was only physical attraction involved, although she strongly suspected she’d be better off if it was. But she’d fal
len for him for a lot of different reasons.

  Initially, of course, she’d just been so darn grateful that he’d given up his vacation time to stay and help her. But the better she’d gotten to know him…

  Oh, she’d come to love his dry sense of humor, the way he just dug in and did whatever had to be done, how good he was with the animals and…She shook her head. She could list a hundred different things, but it all came down to the fact that she’d fallen in love with the man. That she wanted to make love with him.

  Do you want to be left hurting when he goes? she asked herself again. But the question had lost its power—defeated by her desire.

  Maybe, in the long run, she’d regret that. But in the short run, she wanted Nick too much to resist.

  She turned down the Sixth Line, her heart beating faster with every click of the odometer. By the time she reached the gravel drive, her heart was racing a mile a minute.

  The camp, she absently noted on her way past, was showing no signs of settling down for the night. Of course, it had still been twilight when she’d left Port Perry, so’ it wasn’t all that late.

  Ahead, the house stood in darkness, and disappointment rippled through her. Nick must be in the camp.

  She parked and went inside, where the Marx brothers treated her to their usual frantic greeting. After they retreated and gave the cats a chance to say hello, she talked to Crackers for a minute, then took the dogs out for a brief walk—down the hill far enough toward Attila’s field to see that Craig, the kid on this watch, was awake and alert.

  When she got back to the house, the phone was ringing and Crackers was crying, “Phone. Phone.”

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

  “Oh, hi, Mom,” she said, feeling a stab of guilt. She’d promised to phone back and let them know when it would be a good time to come, but with all that had been happening she hadn’t gotten around to it.

  “How’s the movie going?”

  Fleetingly, she pictured Attila destroying the stand-in bear. Then a replay of the chicken-and-rock fiasco flashed through her mind. ”Fine,” she said. “It’s going just fine.”

  “Oh, good. Then it would be all right if we came down soon? We were thinking about the day after tomorrow. John’s company is sending him to some training course in Chicago, and you know how your sister hates being in that big old house alone.”

  “Ahh…” Carly thought rapidly. Surely tomorrow they’d get Attila’s running scene shot. And once that was a wrap, it would be relatively clear sailing.

  “Dear? Would that be all right?”

  “Sure. The day after tomorrow’s great.”

  “Good. We thought we’d leave right after breakfast.”

  Which meant they might be here before she and Nick had even had breakfast. The drive from Kingston was only a couple of hours, and her parents were very early risers.

  “Well, I don’t know what the shooting schedule will be yet. But if I’m not in the house when you arrive, just make yourselves at home.

  “No, wait, I’ve been keeping the house locked because there are so many strangers around. But there’ll be a kid watching Attila’s field, so I’ll leave a key with him.”

  “You have someone watching Attila’s field?”

  “Uh-huh. With all those people…I just don’t want any of them bothering him.”

  “Oh, of course. Well, we’ll see you the day after tomorrow, then.”

  “Right Say hi to Dad for me.”

  Once she’d hung up, she poured a glass of iced tea and sat out on the dark porch to wait for Nick.

  Rocky ambled across the lawn and kept her company for a while, and when he went off to do coon things she simply sat gazing out into the moonlight, listening to the crickets chirp and thinking what a romantic night it was. And that Nick would soon be here to share it with her.

  But when she eventually spotted him coming up the drive, her stomach gave a sick lurch. Not only was Barb Hunt with him, they were walking arm in arm.

  Carly’s face began to burn and she felt positively ill. Only this morning, Nick had been kissing her as if he were madly in love with her. And his long, lingering glances had been telling her that, too. But apparently he liked to spread his love around.

  Angrily telling herself it was just as well she’d discovered that before he’d spread much her way, she pushed herself out of the chair and started across the porch, hoping she was hidden by the darkness.

  She hadn’t quite made it to the door when Nick called, “Carly? Where’re you going?”

  Silently swearing, she turned in time to see him disentangling his arm from Barb’s. “I assumed you two would like some privacy,” she said icily.

  “Privacy?”

  “Oh, it’s not what you think,” Barb said. “Nick didn’t seem entirely stable on his feet when he was leaving, so I just thought I’d walk him home.”

  Looking at him again, Carly wondered how she could have missed the fact that he was tipsy—if not downright inebriated.

  That probably meant she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion about him and Barb. But it also dashed any thoughts of romance.

  “I figured if our bear trainer fell and broke his leg, Jay would be positively suicidal,” Barb added. “At any rate, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” She gave a little wave, then started back down the drive.

  While Nick cautiously negotiated the porch steps, Carly said, “You’re drunk.”

  “I certainly am not. I just had a couple of beers.”

  “Some couple.” She turned and marched into the house.

  “Maybe it was three,” he said, trailing her inside.

  “Maybe you missed counting a few,” she muttered, locking the door and heading for the stairs.

  He followed her, and when they reached the upstairs hall, said, “I don’t know why you’re making a federal offence out of this. I really don’t drink much. Especially not for a cop. But I figured I’d better keep up tonight. You know, be one of the boys. Because Barb and I were sitting with these other people at dinner and—”

  “You had dinner with Barb?” she said, wishing that didn’t annoy the hell out of her. But if he’d had dinner with Barb, and he’d still been with her at ten o’clock…

  “Well, I didn’t have you to eat with, did I? You went off to paint your…whatever it is you paint.”

  “Tonight it was a nude man.” She liked the way that information made Nick’s jaw drop.

  Then he recovered and grinned at her. “Naaah, you’re joking.”

  “No, I’m serious. We quite often have live models, and tonight’s was a very well-built nude man.”

  Nick’s grin was abruptly replaced by a frown. “Well, anyway,” he said after a minute, “as I was saying, there were all these other people at dinner, so I hung around talking to some of them—fishing for clues.”

  “Did you catch any?”

  “Any what?”

  “Clues. The ones you were fishing for.”

  “Ahh. That time you were joking, right?”

  “Nick, if you can’t even tell whether I’m joking or not, it’s time to call it a night.”

  “Oh,” he said, looking distinctly disappointed.

  “And maybe you should have a hot shower before you go to bed. If you don’t, in the morning you’ll wish you had.” She walked into her room and closed the door as he muttered something.

  She wasn’t positive, but she thought it was, “Maybe I should take a cold shower.”

  AT BREAKFAST, NICK WAS feeling a little fuzzy around the edges. The headache pills he’d taken hadn’t kicked in yet, so there was a dull thudding in his temples.

  His stomach wasn’t doing too well, either. He was certain Carly had cooked the bacon and eggs with extra grease, intentionally trying to punish him.

  “This is a short day for us, isn’t it?” he said, hoping he was right. The way he was feeling, it was going to be tough getting through even a couple of hours.

  She nodded. “After
they shoot Attila’s running scene, Jay’s going to concentrate on the boys—shoot their running sequence, then some earlier scenes. I think he’s planning on the ones where they break their compass and realize they’re lost

  “So what should we do while that’s happening?" she added. “Hang around the set and see if there are any new ‘problems’ or spend our time asking questions in the camp?”

  “Well, maybe neither. The more I’ve been thinking about things, the more hopeful I’m getting that our troublemaker might have decided to back off.”

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh. After that incident with the rock, everybody’s realized that someone’s intentionally been causing trouble. And Barb mentioned that you can practically see everyone watching everyone else, which is going to make it pretty hard to set up more incidents without getting caught. So if this guy has a brain, he’ll quit while he’s ahead.”

  “Oh, Nick, I sure hope you’re right.”

  He forced down another piece of bacon. Then, when Carly got up to get something from the fridge, he lowered his plate onto his lap.

  Zeppo helped him out by greedily wolfing down the leftovers, but Crackers blew the whistle on them, crying, “Oh-oh! Bad dog! Bad dog!”

  “Damn feathered rat fink,” Nick muttered under his breath, trying to get the plate back onto the table.

  He wasn’t quite fast enough to keep Carly from looking his way and catching him. “Feeling a little green around the gills?” she said.

  “Just watching the cholesterol.”

  “Oh. Good. Because if Attila balks at running, I’d hate you to have to work at persuading him when you were hung over.”

  “Well, I’m not, so let’s get going.” Pushing back from the table, he grabbed the cooler she’d filled with bear treats.

  They said goodbye to the dogs and Crackers, then collected Attila from his field and took him to the shoot site.

  The morning was incredibly muggy, which wasn’t good. Attila might decide it was too humid for running. But as they walked, Nick tried to think only positive thoughts.