Murder in the Shadows

by Jade Astor

  “I hear he’s a total pig when it comes to that kind of thing,” Wes said. “Can’t keep his hands to himself. Someone told me his co-stars have to sign an NDA, it’s so bad.”

  “I didn’t actually sign anything,” Jamie teased. “Yet there is such a thing as professional courtesy.” He made a zipping motion across his mouth. “For the time being, at least.”

  “Wasn’t your character brought on as a potential love interest for his character’s lady-love? Some kind of vapid little boy toy for the two of them to angst over?” Chuck asked, munching a chip. “Sorry, I don’t watch the show so I don’t know all the characters and their dynamics.”

  “Not exactly.” Jamie bristled. “I was supposed to provide a complication for Lance’s character and his on-screen leading lady. It was all very well-scripted, even if the audience didn’t care for that storyline and made their displeasure clear to the producers. Over their heads, I suppose.”

  “Was she interested in you, too?” Sandra innocently.

  Jamie feigned embarrassment. “Like I said, before, I don’t want to tell any tales out of school—or should I say the locker room. Let’s just say she made it very clear who really tickled her fancy, and it wasn’t Lance Bolden by a long shot.” He released a theatrical sigh. “We did have some parties to remember on that show. I don’t miss them because you know that kind of fast lifestyle can take a toll on one. You see how much makeup and plastic surgery these people need to keep up appearances for their fans and keep their critics quiet. Not just the women, either. The men are as into Botox as anyone. I’m pretty sure I saw Lance’s steroids dealer on the set a few times, too. He pretended the guy was just a messenger bringing him some airline tickets, but I have my own theories about what was really in that package.”

  “Right. I’m sure Lance’s package was endlessly fascinating to you,” Victor said, smothering a laugh by swigging some cognac.

  “Please do invite me to your twelfth birthday party,” Jamie snapped. “I hear it’s going to be quite the event.”

  “Yours will be the first invitation I send out,” Victor promised.

  Logan clapped his hands, affecting a cheerful tone. “All right, everyone, as interesting as this is, may I ask that we talk about Secret Hearts another time? While everyone’s here, including Darian, I was hoping to say a few words. First, I want to tell all of you how mind-blowing it is to see my script being acted out. You guys really brought it to life. I think the audience will respond, too.”

  “They sure will,” Jamie muttered, though Darian heard him clearly and assumed Logan could, too. “Maybe not the way you had in mind, though.”

  Though he winced, Logan forged ahead. “In fact, I hope we’ll all gather like this many more times, collaborating on an entire series of successful productions. I see us as a team, now as much as when we were all a bunch of goofy college kids. I couldn’t do any of it without all of you.”

  “Thanks, man,” Wes said, raising his glass. He seemed genuinely touched.

  “My pleasure,” Logan said. “But I haven’t finished yet. As wonderful as all of you are, I can’t deny that my main inspiration is still the man of my dreams, my favorite actor, my other half.” Stepping in front of the fireplace, he reached into his jeans pocket. “I also have a confession to make. The film script isn’t the only project I’ve been working on and planning for. It was really hard to wait until we were all here together, but in a few minutes you’ll see why I had to.”

  When he removed a small box and held it up in front of Jamie, Sandra’s eyes widened in shock. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she murmured.

  His eyes growing moist, Logan opened the box and removed a gold signet ring. “I haven’t engraved this yet, but I’m planning to have both our initials entwined. I wanted us to pick out the exact kind of lettering together.”

  Jamie took a step back, as though the ring were emitting a bad smell. “What is this?” he asked warily.

  “Isn’t it obvious? Jamie, I want us to get married right here on the set, in Victor’s beautiful house. Don’t you see how perfect it is? Our friends are already here, and Chuck can video the whole thing for us. It’ll be like a destination wedding with a historical theme. After we finish the film, we can take off for a honeymoon in the tropics—or wherever else you want to go. I’ll leave that part entirely up to you.”

  For a few minutes everyone stared. No one dared to move or speak. All eyes were riveted on Jamie.

  He, at least, didn’t seem the least bit flustered. His lips curved in a slow, easy smile.

  “I’m afraid I have to agree with Sandra,” he said. “Are you kidding?”

  Darian didn’t think he’d ever felt so badly for someone in his life when Logan’s cheeks turned as pale as the room’s overstuffed sofa. “What are you saying, Jamie?”

  “What do you think I’m saying? I’m saying absolutely not, Logan. Not a chance in hell. No way. Do I need to say it another language, too?”

  Logan lowered the ring, his hand shaking. “Can I…can I ask why?”

  “I would think that would be obvious.” Jamie smirked, clearly enjoying his pain.

  “Well, it isn’t to me.”

  “No? You’re lucky I didn’t pick up that bottle of cognac and throw the whole thing in your face! You have only one agenda here. You want to cash in on my celebrity to get publicity for this silly film of yours!”

  “Jamie, of course I don’t! I love you. I want to be your husband! Of course I want us to work together, but it’s so much more than that. I hope to spend my life with you. All of it—not just the filmmaking part.”

  “You’ve got to be nuts to think I’d want to hitch my star to yours. That would be a boost for you, not me.” He barked out an angry laugh. “Wait till I tell my new agent about this. Don’t be surprised if he drives right down here, throws me in the back of his car, and takes off. No way would he stand for my being exploited for your benefit.”

  “Oh, we’re back to that fantasy again?” In an instant, Logan’s disappointment faded and a volcanic burst of temper flared in its place. His hands snapped into fists, with the ring in one and the box in the other. “Why don’t you just take my heart out of my chest and stomp on it in front of everyone while you’re at it?”

  He took a menacing step toward Jamie, who flung up his hands to ward him off. At that point Sandra jumped up and reached for her brother. “Logan, don’t. He’s not worth all this.”

  Logan shook her off. “Get away from me.” Thankfully, though, he halted his advance on Jamie. He returned the ring to its box and stuffed the box back in his pocket. Then he whirled and stormed out of the sitting room. Everyone froze, listening to his footsteps banging up the staircase.

  Jamie broke the silence with a loud, theatrical sigh. “Some people are so oversensitive. And I’m glad I didn’t waste the cognac. After all that drama, I need a drink. The carbs will be worth it in this case.”

  “Good thing I gave them separate rooms,” Victor said as Jamie flounced out with the entire bottle.

  “That’s for sure,” Sandra said once he was gone. “Why my brother bothers with him is beyond me. I’ve been trying to pry them apart for years. He’s just a smitten fool where Jamie is concerned. Then again, it just goes to prove that when you get a bunch of gay actors together, what gets on film isn’t half as exciting as what goes on backstage. I, for one, have had enough excitement for one day.”

  Draining the dregs from her glass, she got up and left. Chuck made his excuses next, and Wes followed. Again Darian wondered if Chuck and Wes were a couple. He and Victor were left alone.

  “That was hard to watch,” Darian said, an understatement if there ever was one.

  “Yeah,” Victor muttered. “It really was. I don’t know what Logan was thinking to ask him in front of an audience. He should have predicted Jamie would turn the whole thing into a fiasco. He gets off on the attention.”

  Darian blinked. “You mean Jamie might have said yes if all of us weren�
��t around?”

  “He might have. Heck, he still might, because if you think Logan isn’t up there begging him to reconsider you don’t know either one of them at all. Sometimes making up is the best part.” With a wry smile, Victor rubbed Darian’s shoulder. “Sorry you had to see that. It was probably extra hard for you, considering what you’ve been through with Argo, I mean. If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen. I can’t promise I won’t take sides, but then again I think you need someone on yours right now.”

  “Thanks. It’s not that I’m not having a great time here with the film and everything. Well, I mean I was, up until….but it’s okay. I need to move forward.”

  Nodding with understanding, Victor took Darian’s hand in a gentle, supportive gesture. No pressure. Darian appreciated that. “You’re right. You do.”

  He moved closer. They were about to kiss, Darian knew. He didn’t pull away.

  Just before Victor’s lips touched his, they heard the scream from upstairs.

  Chapter 9

  They met Wes, who had changed into gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, on the top floor landing. “Who’s screaming?” Victor asked him when they reached the top of the stairs.

  “Two guesses. I just came from Jamie’s room. You thought he was bad before? He’s really on a tear now.” Another piercing wail split the air. Wes shook his head, seeming amused rather than disturbed. “Either Logan reached his breaking point or someone’s practical joke went too far.”

  “What do you mean?” Darian asked. “What kind of practical joke?”

  “Take a look.” Wes gestured toward a door standing ajar. Darian could hear Jaime half-sobbing and half-cursing behind it. Through the gap, he saw that the entire room was drenched in blood. It covered the walls, the bedspread, and even spattered the ceiling. The mirror where Jamie had inspected his throat had come under particular attack. A vicious crimson smear bisected its surface.

  “Jamie! Are you hurt?” He charged inside, ahead of Victor, who stood in the hall gaping. Far from being grateful for his assistance, Jamie whirled on him in fury. Darian realized that he was looking at stage blood—gallons of it. Sandra, he knew, kept several bottles on hand to use in the fight scenes between Caleb, Osbourne, and Thaddeus.

  “Wow,” Victor said, slipping in behind Darian to gawk. “Looks like someone hates your guts, Jamie.”

  “Someone?” Jamie scoffed. “Isn’t that a quaint way of putting it? I think we all know the culprit’s identity.”

  As if on cue, Logan strode into the room barefoot, closely followed by his sister. He wore a baby-blue terry bathrobe over a pair of plaid lounge pants and appeared to have no shirt on. His hair looked damp and his glasses sat slightly askew. Sandra was in puffy slippers and a red flannel nightgown with a fleece housecoat over it. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “You!” Jamie screeched, pointing at Logan. “You did this, probably with that cow’s help!”

  Darian didn’t blame him for suspecting the man he had so thoroughly ridiculed less than half an hour earlier. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine Sandra giving her brother a hand in taking revenge, either. Still, the two of them had obviously been in their rooms long enough to change into pajamas. Logan’s wet hair suggested he had also showered. Or had a quick rinse and change of clothes been necessary to hide red stains?

  “Are you nuts?” Sandra shouted back, while Logan surveyed the damage to the room, thunderstruck. He looked genuinely stunned, Darian thought, but then again he’d had plenty of acting experience. “We had nothing to do with this mess!”

  “Sandra’s telling the truth,” Logan said when he got his jaw working again. “I went straight to my room after…uh…after I got upstairs, and Sandra came up right behind me. We said goodnight in the hall and I got into the shower. I had just dried off when I heard you yelling.”

  “You two are the worst liars I’ve ever seen,” Jamie ranted. “I’d expect you to cover up for one another. It’s what you’ve always done, after all!”

  “I don’t think you’re in any position to throw stones there, Jamie,” Sandra said with narrowed eyes. To Darian’s surprise, Jamie clammed up instantly, though his face remained pale with outrage. “It’s not like we were the only two people upstairs, anyway.”

  “Hey!” Wes protested. “But now that you mention it, where’s Chuck?”

  “The door to his room was closed when I passed it,” Sandra said. “Maybe he fell right asleep. Not that your ululations couldn’t wake the dead, Jamie.”

  “Why don’t I go and look for him?” Wes suggested. “Wouldn’t hurt to make sure he’s okay. You know, considering.”

  The others agreed, and Wes left the room. Meanwhile, Darian eased a finger over the top of Jamie’s dressing table and noticed something interesting.

  “You know,” Darian said, “this doesn’t seem freshly applied. You’re the expert, Sandra. What do you think?”

  Frowning, Sandra moved over to inspect the splotches. She, too, swiped a fingertip through them. “Darian’s right. This is sticky, like it’s already starting to dry. It only gets like this after a few hours. When was the last time you were in this room, Jamie?”

  Jamie’s silky brows shot up. “Right before Logan and I went out to look for some decent low-carb food. Not much to pick from in this dump of a town, you know. We had to settle for the seafood counter in the grocery store. Anyway, before we left I changed out of my costume and hung it up. Everything was fine. And now…” He paused to direct a sour look at Caleb’s lovely tailcoat, hanging from the closet door. Red streaks marring the front and both sleeves.

  “That really ticks me off,” Sandra grumbled. “At least we can use it for the zombie scenes.”

  Jamie ignored her. “So what you’re saying is this could have been done anytime between then and now. Not necessarily after Logan and I…well, had our little disagreement.”

  “Told you,” Logan huffed.

  Wes returned. “Chuck was in his room the whole time. He’s got headphones on and didn’t hear the ruckus. I told him not to worry. I can’t imagine he’d have anything to do with this. What would his motive be? He barely knows any of us.”

  So apparently there was no relationship there after all, Darian reflected. Or not yet, anyhow. Maybe that was a good thing. Logan and Jamie’s squabbles were stressful enough to deal with.

  “Oh, yes,” Jaime piped up again. His eyes blazed, but Darian recognized his emotion as fear and not anger. “I’m sure all of you have some lame excuse as to why you couldn’t possibly have done it. Let me save you the time, because I don’t trust any of you! Was it you, Victor? I know your type. You play the courteous lord of the manor, but your strategy is to fool people so you can do nasty things to them in secret.” Jamie whirled on Darian next. “As for you, drop the innocent look. It isn’t fooling me at all. Were you and Victor in on this together? I know you want to take over the role of Caleb. Logan as much as told me Victor had asked him about it.”

  “I—what?” Victor asked. He’d either forgotten their dinner conversation or he was putting on another performance. Jamie had a point, it seemed.

  “Of course I don’t want the role,” Darian protested. “I’m not even an actor. And I’m perfectly content to help Sandra with the makeup.”

  “Ah, yes, makeup—including, may I point out, fake blood.” Jamie flung his arms wide. “As in the very substance that has been poured over this entire room.”

  “Stop it, Jaime,” Logan said. His voice dropped to a growl. “For that matter, you could have done it yourself, to get attention. It’s exactly the sort of thing you would do.”

  “How dare you?” Jaime shot back. “I was downstairs drinking cognac until just a few minutes ago. Besides, why would I deprive myself of a dressing room? That’s the result of jealousy.”

  “You haven’t lost your dressing room,” Logan assured him. “When all is said and done, all we’re really looking at here is some spilled corn syrup. How about you go to my room for the
time being, and we’ll clean this up for you? Can you let it go then, Jaime, or at least get past it?”

  “You expect us to clean his room?” Sandra demanded.

  “The production has to come first. If that’s what it takes to restore peace on the set, so be it.”

  Darian detected a knowing look that passed between the two of them. Did Sandra also suspect her brother of orchestrating the vandalism? Or had she been involved herself?

  “I think it sounds like a perfect solution,” Wes said. “Take it or leave it, Jamie.”

  “Fine,” Jaime grumbled. “But I’m going to figure out who did this. And payback won’t be pretty.” He scanned the group with slitted eyes, then stomped off down the hall. Darian marveled at Logan’s willingness to share his room. Obviously Victor’s take on their relationship dynamics had been spot on. Actually, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that Jamie had staged the whole scene to gain Logan’s sympathy.

  “You don’t have to stay, Darian,” Victor said in an apologetic voice. “Despite Jamie’s histrionics, no one thinks you were involved. You can head home if you like while we take care of this.”

  “That’s okay,” Darian said. “I’m willing to help.”

  Victor grinned, and Darian thought of the almost-kiss that Jamie’s scream had interrupted. “You are? Thanks.”

  “Well, let’s get rolling,” Sandra suggested. “The sooner we start, the sooner we finish, as our neat-freak grandmother used to say.”

  Thanks to a housekeeping closet just down the hall, they soon had several rolls of paper towels, disinfectant spray, and even an old tin bucket Wes filled with water from the bathroom sink.

  “Actually, I’m as curious as Jamie is about did this,” Victor said as they worked. “I’d frankly like to kick his—or her—ass. Trashing his stuff was just childish, and it won’t teach Jaime a lesson about his behavior. It just makes more work for the rest of us.”