by Stuart Woods
Teddy thought he had an idea which would be worse for Dax Baxter.
When the guests had gone, Teddy said, “What say we start again at square one?”
“It ain’t gonna be square,” Sally said, getting out of her clothes.
11
ON SUNDAY MORNING, Teddy got a call. “Hello?”
“Billy,” Stone said, “it’s Stone Barrington. You free for lunch?”
“Sure, Stone.”
“Let’s meet at the Tesuque Market at noon, if that’s okay.”
“It’s right in my backyard,” Teddy said.
• • •
“YOU LOOK FIT and well rested, Billy,” Stone said after they had gotten a table and a menu.
“I feel a lot better than I’d hoped to,” Teddy said. He looked a little embarrassed. “I’ve even got a girl.”
“Good for you!”
“I would never have thought it could happen this fast, but I’ve no complaints at all. She’s a lovely person, works on the shoot, name of Sally Ryder.”
“I hope to meet her one of these days,” Stone said.
“She’s picking me up here at one o’clock. We’re taking a hike up in the hills, so you’ll meet her.”
“I’ll look forward to that,” Stone said. “Tell me, how’s the shoot going?”
Teddy pulled a mock frown. “Not as well as could be expected,” he said. “Lots of small problems are slowing us down and costing Mr. Baxter money of his own. He has a contract price with the studio, as it turns out, and any delays or reshoots come out of his own pocket.”
“That must hurt,” Stone said.
“Not only that, but we could lose our leading man and have to start over, since he’s in practically every scene we’ve shot. Baxter is paying another actor half his usual salary, just to have him standing by.”
“Can the leading man get away with just walking off the movie?”
“I expect there’ll be litigation, or the threat of it,” Teddy said. “But who knows?”
“In the meantime, Baxter loses everything he’s shot and everything he’s already paid the leading man?”
Teddy nodded. “I hear it could cost Baxter upwards of two million dollars, when you add in the extra shooting days. He has to pay the whole crew for those.”
“And what sorts of things are causing these problems?”
“Tiny things that seem to just come out of the woodwork,” Teddy said. “If it keeps up, it could cost Baxter his fee for producing the film. Of course, he’d still have his profit participation, but I hear Dax is a big spender, lives close to the edge. He’s already bought a big house in Santa Fe, and found a way to redo it at the studio’s expense, and they somehow found out about it and are demanding their money back. Word is, he’s borrowing against the contract for his next production to make ends meet.”
“And how long do you expect this to go on, Billy?”
“Me? I have no expectations, I just do my job every day, and my boss is real happy with me.”
“You’re probably better at it than your boss,” Stone said.
“I’m better at it than Dax Baxter,” Teddy replied. “If I weren’t so happy with Peter and Ben, I’d probably go independent, like Baxter, and make a fortune. My tastes aren’t as expensive as his.”
“What’s with the pickup truck you’re driving, Billy?”
“Oh, I rented that from a fellow I met. I think a new Cayenne might cause some talk among the crew. It’s safely garaged.”
“Billy, don’t you think you may have taken enough out of Dax Baxter’s hide?”
“Oh, I just go with the flow, do what I can. I’m not pressing myself.”
“Ed Eagle and I are both concerned that this whole thing might blow up into something bigger than you’d counted on. Ed’s worried about the effect a production disaster could have on the state film commission, and the money they’ve got tied up in it. He was instrumental in getting the commission established and funded by the state legislature, and a lot of people’s jobs could be affected if the film were shut down. It would make it more difficult to attract new productions if the town seemed jinxed for moviemakers.”
“Well, Dax seems to have a gift for pulling back from the edge just before disaster strikes,” Teddy said, “and I expect he’ll manage that in this case—maybe even get a good picture out of it.”
“But it’ll cost him?”
“That would be my best guess,” Teddy said. “Oh, here comes Sally.”
Stone looked up to see a trim, mostly blond woman approaching. “You’ve done well, Billy,” he said.
“Sally,” Teddy said, rising, “this is an old friend, Stone Barrington. We knew each other in New York.”
Sally offered him a hand. “Hello, Stone.”
“How do you do?” Stone asked, taking the hand. “Will you join us for a minute? Before your hike?”
“Sure.”
Stone pulled up a chair for her. “Margarita?”
“They’re too big here—I might fall off a mountain.”
“I’m staying sober, too,” Teddy said, sipping his diet soda.
“Where are you hiking?” Stone asked.
“I thought I’d show Ted the Bandelier National Monument, up Los Alamos way.”
“I’ve heard good things about it,” Stone said. “Refresh my memory.”
“Upwards of thirty thousand acres, dwelling ruins going back eleven thousand years, plenty of wildlife, gorgeous scenery. Why don’t you join us?”
“Thanks, I’m not dressed for it, and I have to fly to L.A. on business in a little while.”
“Another time, then.”
“Maybe, who knows?”
The two of them excused themselves and went on their way.
Stone drove back to the Eagles’ house and packed his things, then went to say goodbye to his hosts. Ed was alone in his study.
“Did you put the fear of God into Teddy?” he asked.
“I don’t think anything could put the fear of God into Teddy,” Stone replied. “Still, I managed to convey that there might be unintended consequences for others, if he goes too far.”
“Do you think he’ll do that?”
“No, I don’t. So far he’s managed to put Dax Baxter into a world of trouble by doing small things to slow him down. Apparently, his contract calls for Baxter to personally pick up costs over and above the agreed budget, and Teddy is bleeding him in small ways.”
“As long as he doesn’t hurt anybody,” Eagle said.
“I don’t think Teddy gets mad,” Stone said. “He just gets even.”
12
STONE DROVE THE HUNDRED YARDS up the mountain and turned into Anastasia Bounine’s driveway. She was just locking the door to her house, and a suitcase and a train case stood next to her.
“Good afternoon,” Stone said with a kiss. “Ready to go?”
“Always,” she replied.
He stowed her luggage, and they drove to the airport and through the security gate. Stone’s CJ3 Plus awaited, and he put their luggage on board. “Last chance for the powder room,” he said to Ana. She walked into the FBO, and he did a thorough preflight inspection.
“Would you like to be comfortable in the rear?” he asked when she returned.
“Where are you sitting?”
“In the pilot’s seat.”
Her eyes opened a little wider. “Somehow I was under the impression that two gentlemen in those cute uniforms would be occupying the front seats.”
“I prefer doing it myself. Would you like to be copilot?”
Ana raised an eyebrow. “I think that would terrify me, but I’ll do it anyway, just to be near you.”
Stone closed and locked the cabin door, then got her settled and strapped in and adjusted her headset so they could hear each other over the i
ntercom. “The microphone should be close enough to your lips so that you can kiss it,” he said.
She kissed the microphone. “There, dear,” she said.
“Is your seat belt comfortable?”
“It’s a little like being in a straitjacket, isn’t it?” she said.
“It’s called a five-point restraint, to keep you secure. The FAA requires it.” Stone handed her the checklist. “It would be a help if you read me the items one by one.” He pointed at the first.
She began reading, and he began replying with “Check” after accomplishing each task. After a little while, he said, “Now we’re ready to start engines.” He talked her through the procedure as he accomplished it, and soon both engines were running smoothly and the air-conditioning was on.
Stone called the tower for his clearance and permission to taxi, and he turned the airplane and taxied to runway 20. A moment later they were given an initial altitude and cleared for takeoff. The winds were light, so there was no turbulence. He steered the airplane onto the runway center line, then moved the throttles smoothly to the max. The light jet began to roll, and a moment later he eased back the yoke, and the aircraft rose into the clean, clear high desert air.
“It’s very powerful, isn’t it?” Ana said.
“For its size, yes.” He switched on the autopilot and the airplane turned toward its first assigned waypoint.
“Why don’t you have your hands on the thing, there?” she asked, pointing at the yoke.
“The autopilot is flying the airplane, now, and it’s a better pilot than I. It will continue to fly us until we’re ready to land.”
An hour and a half later Stone set down the airplane gently at Santa Monica Airport.
“I’m surprised,” Ana said, “that was actually fun.”
“I always enjoy flying myself rather than being flown. It gives me a sense of accomplishment all out of proportion to what I’ve actually done.” He steered the airplane onto the Atlantic Aviation ramp, ran through his checklist, and shut everything down. A Bentley with the Hotel Arrington insignia on the door pulled up to the airplane; Stone unlocked the luggage compartment, and the driver moved their bags to the car. Then they were gone.
• • •
TWENTY MINUTES LATER they were waved through the security gate at the Arrington, and the driver deposited them at Stone’s house, where the butler took charge of their things.
“You keep a butler, even when you’re not here?”
“No, the hotel provides a cook, a maid, and a butler when I’m in residence. It’s very convenient.” While their bags were taken upstairs he gave her a tour of the house. “Oh, your own pool?” she asked, looking out a window.
“Ours alone.”
“Does one need a swimsuit?”
“One does not.”
In no time they were in the water, and after a bit of frolicking, Stone handed her a robe and a towel and called the house for a pitcher of sangria. They occupied a double lounge and relaxed.
“Usually, Sundays are a big workday for me,” Ana said. “It’s nice to be off.” She let her hand wander under his robe, and shortly, she was on top of him.
• • •
TEDDY AND SALLY arrived back at her house, dusty and tired. “Let’s go straight into the hot tub,” she said, starting to strip.
“I didn’t even know you had a hot tub,” Teddy replied.
“You haven’t seen my back garden.” She took him by the hand and led him out the back door into a beautifully planted garden, then uncovered the tub and set the temperature. It was getting dark.
“This is lovely,” Teddy said, getting out of his clothes.
“It’s my pride and joy. I don’t mind if there’s time between jobs—I use it here.” Her cell phone rang, and she looked at the caller’s name before answering. “Excuse me,” she said, “it’s my assistant, Jenny.” She walked away and talked for a moment, then returned.
“You look concerned,” Teddy said.
“It’s our leading man, Jake. He and Dax had a big argument in the bar at La Fonda, and now he’s there alone, drinking.”
“I hope he makes work tomorrow.”
“There seems to be some doubt about that. Jenny thinks he may have quit the film, and Heckel and Jeckel are lurking nearby, apparently waiting for Jake to leave.”
Teddy started to get dressed. “Is Jenny with Jake?”
“She’s been trying to talk to him, but he’s not very communicative.”
“Tell her to keep him at the bar, whatever she has to do,” Teddy said, buttoning his shirt.
“Where are you going?” Sally asked, alarmed.
“I think I’ll have a drink at La Fonda and see that Jake gets to his suite unmolested.”
“I’m coming with you,” Sally said.
“I don’t need help for this,” Teddy said.
“Jake likes me. I can talk him out of there. I don’t want you mixing with those two apes, though.”
“Come on, then.” They drove the few blocks to the big hotel, and Teddy parked the pickup in the indoor lot. They walked into the hotel and down the hallway toward the bar. Teddy stopped at a shop in the little mall, where there was a basket of umbrellas outside the door, seeking buyers. He bought a golf umbrella with a thick, curved handle.
“Ted, it’s not raining,” Sally said, as they hurried toward the bar.
“It could get wet,” Teddy replied.
13
JAKE WAS HALF SLUMPED on his bar stool, while Jenny stood next to him, pushing his drink away. Teddy looked up and saw Heckel and Jeckel at the far end of the bar, watching them intently.
“Hi, Jake,” Teddy said. “I’m Ted Shirley, assistant to Dan Waters, the production manager.”
“Hey, Ted,” Jake mumbled.
“I think we’d better get you to your suite,” Teddy said. “You’re not looking well.”
“Okay,” Jake said.
Teddy and Sally got him off the bar stool and onto his feet, and the three of them headed slowly toward the hallway. Teddy looked over his shoulder and saw that Heckel and Jeckel were moving their way.
The elevator door was open and waiting and Teddy, Sally, Jenny, and Jake got aboard. “Which floor?” Teddy asked.
“The top,” Jake replied.
Teddy pressed the button and the door closed just as the two muscle guys reached it. They rode up, but it was very slow. When the door opened, Jake said, “That way,” pointing to his right.
They were halfway to the suite when Teddy heard the fire stairs door open and close behind them. “Hey!” a voice said. “We’ll take care of Jake.”
“I’ll need your key card, Jake,” Teddy said, but he didn’t stop moving. At the door to the suite, Jake was still fumbling in his pocket when Heckel and Jeckel arrived. Heckel, the larger of the two, hooked his fingers in Jake’s belt. “We’ll take care of this,” he said to Teddy. “Now get lost.”
Teddy brought the thick umbrella handle down sharply on Heckel’s wrist, and the man let go of Jake’s belt with a yelp. Jeckel came to his rescue, but Teddy rammed the umbrella handle into his solar plexus, and the man made a loud noise and sat down on the floor.
Jake came up with the key card, and Sally let them into the suite. Teddy backed in to be sure they weren’t followed, but the fight had gone out of the two men. “I think my wrist is broken,” Heckel said as the door closed.
Teddy turned and walked down a short hall to the living room, which was large and handsomely furnished.
“I need a drink,” Jake said.
“That’s the last thing you need, Jake,” Sally replied, and she and Jenny hustled him into the bedroom and onto the bed.
Teddy sat down and found a leather-bound copy of their script, with Jake’s name stamped on it in gold. He picked it up and flipped through the pages.
> Sally came back into the room and sat down next to him on the sofa. “Whew, that was close,” she said. “I expect Heckel and Jeckel are on their way to report to Dax.”
“I expect they’re on their way to the emergency room,” Teddy replied.
Teddy found the marked page in the script that indicated how much they had shot. He continued leafing through the script to the end. “Sally,” he said, “can you call Dan Waters and ask him to come over here?”
“Do you really think he wants to know about this?”
“I think he will want to know.”
Jenny came into the room. “Jake is finally asleep,” she said. “He did manage to say that he had told Dax he was quitting the film.”
“Let him sleep it off,” Teddy said. “In the meantime, I think we’re stuck here until he wakes up.”
• • •
A FEW MINUTES LATER there was a knock on the door, and Jenny let in Dan Waters.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Teddy told him what had transpired.
“You took on Heckel and Jeckel?” Dan asked, amazed.
“It had to be done,” Teddy replied.
“Jake says he told Dax he’s leaving the picture,” Jenny said.
“Oh, shit!” Dan said. “This is a nightmare. We’ll have to reshoot everything, and we’ll be on this picture forever.”
“Maybe not,” Teddy said. “I’ve been looking through the script.”
“We’re nearly three-quarters through it,” Dan said.
“Jake has eight scenes left to shoot,” Teddy said. “I’ve read them, and I think his stand-in could do all the long shots, and, of course, the stunt double would be doing the climactic fight scene.”
“Which leaves what?” Dan asked.
“Ten two-shots and close-ups that require Jake’s participation—about seven minutes of actual screen time, maybe less.”
“What, you’re saying that Jake has only seven minutes of work left on the picture? The stand-in and stunt double could do the rest?”
“You heard me correctly.” Teddy handed him the script. “I’ve marked the places. Read it and see if you agree.”