16 Millimeters

by Larissa Reinhart

  Stalker much? I looked over my shoulder at Ed, who now argued with the driver about his speed. Or lack thereof.

  "He's brilliant. That's how he works. Hitchcockian." Leonard looked up from his phone to leer at me. "We all have our infatuations."

  Oh, God. I turned to look out the window. How long did it take to get to a hospital in Black Pine?

  "So, what's with you and Wyatt Nash?" said Leonard.

  "Nothing." I wish I knew.

  "You two seem more than friendly."

  I chewed my lip.

  "Is it an open relationship?"

  "Relationship? He's free to hire more staff if that's what you mean." I turned to face Dahlia. "So find anything about those acupuncturists? Forget the silent reading. Just give us the entire list."

  * * *

  We converged on Black Pine Hospital's ER like a troop prepared for battle. I scanned for Nash. Dahlia looked for the gift shop. Ed attacked the front desk, demanding information about Cambria, while Leonard tried to keep him from using her name. The sweet ER nurse patiently explained the rules, pointed toward the waiting room, then suggested Ed might need to see a doctor because "his color" didn't look good. Did he have a blood pressure problem?

  Considering Ed's color alternated between white and fuchsia, I thought he needed something stronger than a blood pressure check. Maybe a lobotomy.

  Ed wandered away to pace the waiting room.

  "The patient needs a private room ASAP," Leonard told the ER receptionist. "Why don't you get someone in admin down here? My PR gal will be here in a minute, and she'll need to go over certain procedures and waivers we need signed. While you're at it, I need you to strike Cambria's name from your records. Just put in Jane Doe or something."

  "I can't do that," said the nurse. "We already have her name on her wrist band, and it's tied to the records."

  "Just swap it out. Get her a new band." Seeing me, Leonard waved me over. "Maizie, we can use your name, right? Just put Maizie Albright on the record."

  I gasped. "You can't do that. It'll mess with my health records."

  Leonard lowered his voice. "Maizie, we can't have Cambria's name getting out that she OD'ed. Surely, you'd take one for the team? Haven't you OD'ed before?"

  "No. And big no." I backed from the desk. "I can't take an OD for the team. It's wrong, and you'll put my probation in jeopardy."

  The nurse's brow wrinkled. "This isn't an OD. She's being treated for poison ingestion."

  "Same difference," said Leonard. "If Maizie isn't going to help, just use Jane Doe. The media will get wise, but it'll put them off, and we can disclaim anything they say."

  "Wait a minute," I said, retracing my steps. "Cambria was poisoned?"

  "Take the volume down a notch. And don't use her name. Jane Doe was poisoned." Leonard blinked. "What do you mean, poisoned?"

  "Just like it sounds. She ingested a poisonous substance," said the nurse. "You'll have to speak to her doctor. If she gives you permission. You know, there is such a thing as privacy laws."

  "Something you should well remember," said Leonard. "You'll be hearing from my lawyers."

  I tugged on Leonard's sleeve. "Mr. Shackleton, leave the nurse alone. She's just doing her job. Let's wait with the others."

  He pulled me into a hard hug. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Maizie."

  "Mr. Shackleton." I pushed against his back. "You're squashing me."

  He pulled back. "You really soothe me. Nobody can do that. Unless it's prescribed."

  Craptastic, I was Leonard's goat now.

  "Maizie Albright to the administration desk." Leonard and I searched the ceiling at the sound of my name over the intercom. Extricating myself from Leonard, I approached the nurse again. "I think I was just paged. I'm Maizie Albright."

  She nodded. "You're needed. Go wait for your escort by the big 'No Admittance' door."

  "What about me?" said Leonard. "I'm Leonard Shackleton."

  "I didn't hear a Leonard Shackleton, only a Maizie Albright." The nurse waved a guard over. "I suggest you sit in the waiting room like I told you the first time."

  "I'll report back as soon as I know something," I said.

  I left him to complain to the guard and found my escort at a glass sliding door. He led me down various corridors until we reached an examining room. Nash stood in front of the door, his arms folded, his expression grim.

  "Did she die?" I clutched my throat. "The nurse said she was poisoned."

  He shook his head. "She'll be alright. She can barely speak, but before she was knocked out I got a few words. Something tasted funny, but she didn't take much. Drank some water, it started burning, and she called for help. They're running a tox screen to figure out what it was."

  I peered through the window in the door. "Poor Cam-Cam."

  Nash leaned near me. "You know what this means? You were right. That double may have died because someone thought she was Cambria."

  Seventeen

  #VideoKilledThePornStar #Hitchcocking

  It took several hours, but the hospital moved Cambria to a private room, and our crew moved with her. By then, her blood work had come back and had identified the various chemicals she'd ingested and vomited.

  "She's lucky," said the doctor. "It could have killed her."

  Nash had been tapping on his phone. "Ammonia, ethanol, and isopropyl alcohol. This says those are the ingredients for window cleaner."

  "Sounds about right," said the doctor.

  "I had a friend who tried to snort Comet," said Dahlia. She stood behind Ed Farmer. Ed had taken the bedside vigil chair to watch over Cambria while she slept. "He was that desperate. Just like Cambria. He lost his nose and had to have it rebuilt."

  "Not helping," I muttered and glanced at Ed. He didn't show any signs of hearing Dahlia, let alone aware of anyone else in the room besides Cambria.

  Nash folded his arms and stared at Leonard. "Do we need all these people?"

  Besides our original party, we'd been joined by a PR consultant, a media specialist, and an aromatherapist. While the other two attacked their phone and tablets, the aromatherapist wielded essential oils in various spots around Cambria's bed.

  "Where's Alvin?" said Leonard to me. "He was just here."

  "He's seeing about programs for Cam's recovery," said Dahlia, rubbing Ed's shoulders. "At least I told him he should since we don't want poor Cambria to relapse."

  I glanced at Nash, but he was frowning at the aromatherapist.

  "This will soothe and help her to heal," said the aromatherapist, a twenty-something-year-old flower child reincarnation, down to her long braids held in place with a Peruvian headband. Lavender and lemongrass wafted from her twig wand as she dropped oil on my wrist.

  She flicked the wand toward Leonard. Without looking at her, he held out a wrist.

  Nash gave her a hard look, and she scurried away. Jerking a thumb toward the door, he addressed the room. "Cambria is trying to sleep. You want her to get better, y'all need to get out. Now."

  His voice was as large and as commanding as his person. PR, media, aromatherapy, and Dahlia scuttled from the room. The doctor already bought and paid for, strode out with them. Nash shut the door, and Ed glanced up from his chair.

  "Mr. Shackleton, Mr. Farmer, Miss Albright." He motioned us inside the bathroom. "Let's convene. We shouldn't have the following discussion in front of Cambria. Or in the hall, where we could be overheard."

  Ed and Leonard followed Nash inside.

  I stood outside the door, eyeing the tiny room crammed with people.

  "Miss Albright, stand next to me," said Nash. "You'll be fine. This isn't a closet. Just for a minute, so we can talk privately."

  Taking a deep breath, I slid through the door. We crowded toe-to-toe between the toilet, sink, and standing shower. With a final glance at Cambria's sleeping form, Nash pulled the door shut. Feeling the tiny room shrink, I thought positive affirmations, imagined wide open spaces and sniffed my wrist. When that did
n't work, I leaned into Nash and took a quick, unobtrusive inhale of his cologne and felt calmer.

  "We need to come to an understanding," Nash whispered. "There's been two deaths and what looks like an attempt on Cambria's life. We need to notify the police about this. They're already investigating the other two."

  "What do you mean?" Ed's voice rose. "What are you talking about? Leonard, what's he talking about?"

  Leonard made shushing noises. "Ed, everything's fine. Something happened with a body double, nothing to do with us. Not our body double even. Maizie saw it, but she's on it. No worries. A case of mistaken identity."

  "Not really mistaken when we're not sure who it is or where she went," I pointed out. "And she was in Cambria's villa, so there's that."

  "Today Miss Albright found another body," said Nash. "In Cambria's boyfriend's hotel room."

  "What?" Ed's limbs jerked, and he banged into the sink. "What is it with you and bodies?"

  "I know, right?" I muttered.

  Nash squeezed my elbow.

  "Ed, it's just one of those peripheral things," said Leonard. "It's going to be a PR nightmare if it gets out. Cambria made a bad choice in lovers, he's involved in some kind of crime, and it followed her here. Maizie experienced the same back in LA. It happens."

  I opened my mouth to protest his last statement, but Nash held up a finger. "Listen, we don't know if this is peripheral. It looks connected, which is why I'm calling the police. I know a police detective, we brought him in at the beginning…"

  "He didn't believe me. Don't worry, it didn't get reported at the time," I said.

  Nash cut me a look. "But now it's imperative to contact the police about Cambria. They're already involved. The vic in the hotel room is being examined by an ME as we speak."

  "Oh my God. Who was it?" Ed massaged his face. "This vic in the hotel room?"

  "We don't know. But we do know that Cambria's been poisoned. We have a responsibility to her as a victim to see that this crime is reported."

  "We have a responsibility to her as a victim to see that she's protected. Which is your job. One in which you failed," said Leonard. "Ed, do you know where I found him when Cambria was almost dying in her trailer?"

  Ed's spasmodic jerking renewed.

  "Mauling Miss Albright. While Cambria lay dying, this man was screwing around with his subordinate."

  Nash's scar whitened with the hardening of his jaw.

  I gulped air and felt my knees weaken. The room darkened as the walls contracted. Nash placed a hand on the small of my back, and my breathing almost returned to normal.

  Almost.

  "I'll tell you what we're going to do," said Leonard. "Mr. Nash is on guard duty. You will not leave Cambria's side until we get to the bottom of this. Miss Albright will investigate these allegedly-related deaths. We don't actually know if Cambria was deliberately poisoned or if Cambria got the shakes and needed a quick fix. It's not like that's never been done before."

  He turned to face me, taking my hand. "I take back what I said earlier, Maizie. You've done a great job of making sure Cambria didn't have any consumable substances. Next time, make sure all things toxic aren't in her reach."

  I focused on deep breathing and not on feeling patronized.

  "Is there a reason you don't believe your subordinate wasn't deliberately poisoned?" Nash ground out the words. "Are you covering up something?"

  "What would I be covering up?" Leonard shouted. "Just what are you accusing me of?"

  Ed moaned.

  "Ed, I'm sorry for shouting, why don't you go sit with Cambria?" Leonard shifted to let Ed pass. The door opened, and lavender lemongrass-scented air poured into our tiny tomb-like room.

  "Mr. Shackleton." I patted his arm. "Calm down. Mr. Nash is just telling you this is very serious. When Cambria wakes up, we can get more information."

  Leonard leaned into me. "You're right. Thank you, Maizie. You need to make Mr. Nash understand what we're up against. Legally."

  "Obstruction of justice," said Nash. "Possibly aiding and abetting."

  "My God, man," said Leonard. "Any lawyer worth his salt can have those charges removed. The Black Pine Keystone Cops can focus on that murder victim. But telling them about Cambria at this point? Do you know what the insurance company will do if they find out she drank cleaner? How much money we'll lose?"

  "The price of her safety?" said Nash.

  "That's what you're for, if you did your job," said Leonard. "The studio will lose millions. And thousands of jobs. This affects a multitude."

  "You get another actress.”

  “I’d lose the director and the funding." Leonard placed his hands on his hips, inadvertently knocking me against the toilet. "Don't pretend to know anything about this industry. We have a contract, too. One I doubt you can afford to break. Like I said before, Maizie's going to figure out what trouble Cambria is in. And you and your thick neck are going to act as her bodyguard."

  "I'm going to figure it out?" I squeezed my hands together.

  Leonard patted my shoulder, then exited the bathroom. "You'll do great. Look what you've done so far."

  So far I've found bodies, not answers. Also, Leonard's expectations, like most producers, were unrealistic and vague.

  * * *

  Nash and I were finally alone. In a teeny hospital bathroom that smelled of antiseptic and lavender dregs. My world could not get stranger.

  Wait. Yes. Yes, it could. Never mind that, universe.

  He took a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips, giving me a long, steady look. "It's hinky."

  I'd been expecting this line. It was his go-to. "The murders, yes. Leonard wishing to protect the ingénue from the police, not so much. That's standard."

  "You think she drank window cleaner?"

  "Nope and I don't think Leonard believes that either. I think she was mixed up in something…"

  "But."

  "But it's un-Cam-Cam-like. Seriously, I can't believe she's gone down this sort of rabbit hole."

  "She's surrounded by weirdos. Who knows how they've influenced her. Look at what happened to you. You're not like them, but I can't tell you how many times I bought beer at the TruBuy and saw your face staring back at me on one of those magazines. I'd look at you and think, 'That's Boomer Spayberry's daughter?'"

  I shifted my gaze to his boots and pinched my thumb.

  "Sorry. Just trying to make a point and damn, I'm doing it again. Don't cry."

  "I'm not crying." I looked up. "You're right. Are you really going to play bodyguard?"

  "I don't see that I have a choice." He massaged his neck. "Dammit, how did I get myself into this mess? I hate being under the thumb of some asshole."

  "Uh, yeah. That's kind of my fault?" Thumbs were my wheelhouse. "And Leonard's sort of…taken to me. I think. It's hard to tell, but he's acting a little…"

  Nash's eyes darted back to mine. "Possessive? Like the director and Cambria?"

  "Yeah, it's creepy. But Hitchcock results, you know."

  "I don't know. The whole business looks incestuous from my point of view."

  "Ew. It's more like workplace romance. Close proximity and intense work between strong personalities and beautiful people. That happens everywhere, like…" I bit my tongue to stop the words, leaving me with the metallic tang of humiliation.

  "About that." Nash folded his arms. "We can't do this. Earlier, in the parking lot. That was my fault. The guilt of what I was doing to you hit me and you were there, looking…anyway, we can't do this. Obviously. Look what happened."

  "Right." I let out an unconvincing laugh, the mark of a bad actress. "So totally right."

  He visibly winced. Oh, my God.

  "You stay here and I'll just go investigate this crime." What was I doing with my arms? Did I just do the hayseed elbow scoop? I needed to get out of this tiny room. Now.

  Nash squeezed out a small smile. "How about you start with the scene of the last crime? Someone could have gone in the trailer w
hile we were at the hospital. Your bike is in the back of my truck." He handed me Cambria's key. "Poke around and see if you can figure out what might have poisoned her. I couldn't look with all the people crowding in after her collapse."

  I nodded, closing my hand over her key. "Then what?"

  He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a flip phone. "This is a burner. I keep some handy. I should have given you a phone a long time ago, but it's not fancy, and there's no money for a smart phone. Plus, you were being so stubborn about no phones—"

  "Okay, okay." I snatched the phone.

  "Call me and report in. I'm going to see if Mowry knows anything about the guy in the bathtub. Maybe they'll have an I.D. We'll go from there."

  "Right."

  "And Maizie," he paused. "Miss Albright. Keep your eye out for this guy." He held out his smart phone. A head shot appeared next to a mug shot. Young, muscled, good looking. Vacant eyes. A sexy, albeit lifeless grin. The mug shot's grin was malicious and sneering. "That's Orlando Feelzen aka Mark Fellson. He's got a record. Misdemeanor possession."

  "I can't believe Cam-Cam would date someone like that," I gasped.

  "A convict?"

  "No, that's not such a big deal." I caught his shocked look. "At least possession. Not in Hollywood. But the guy looks…not bright. Surprising for a stunt man, they're usually intelligent. I can't see Cams going for that. I mean, maybe you just need to get to know him?"

  Nash sighed. "I hope you don't get to know him. In fact, if you see him, call me immediately, and I'll contact 9-1-1. Don't try to interact with him. Orlando Feelzen's suspect number one."

  Eighteen

  #Feel(notso)Zen #RearTrailerWindow

  I returned to the studio, waved through by security. The actors and most of the crew had returned to their hotel rooms, although inside the warehouse, some still burned midnight oil. Normal for preproduction crunch time, but with today's shock, the schedules would need to be adjusted. Options discussed. If Cam-Cam didn't recover her voice quickly, the schedules would become a ticking time bomb sitting on top of a pile of money.