by Casey Dawes
Sally had to be in shock. He’d never heard her ramble like this.
James nodded. “I’ll check into it.”
Sally put her hand on James’s arm. “You’ve got to figure this out. Beth Ann isn’t going to be happy about it, and she’s pretty annoyed already.”
“I know.” There wasn’t much else he could say. The whole thing didn’t make much sense to him. These were actions of a sociopath, not someone who was trying to get ahead in the movie business. Who could hate him or someone else in the cast that much?
He got into his car and headed to the ranger station. Once he’d finished explaining the situation to the rangers, he went to the lodge to make his plea that the dining tent be left up one more week. The logistics would be hell, but Sally was right. No one would eat in a tent that had once contained a raccoon served on a platter, no matter how well the tent had been cleaned.
Reluctantly, and for a hefty fee, the food service management company agreed to his proposal.
A few hours later, one of the few park cops arrived on the scene, along with a few of the area rangers. They took over the tent for a half hour, and then emerged from the canteen with grim looks on their faces.
James sped toward the group. “Well?”
The older ranger shook his head. “It looks like the raccoon died naturally, but we won’t know until they get him back to the lab.”
“How can you tell?”
“Not enough blood. Looks like someone bashed its head in after it was dead.”
Relief washed over James. The sadistic action was bad enough, but killing an innocent animal in conjunction with the prank seemed particularly heinous.
“Whoever it was had skill. He, or she, got in and out without leaving evidence,” the ranger cop added.
“Can’t you do a trace or something?” Multiple episodes of CSI flashed through James’s brain.
The older man barked a laugh. “There’s no budget for this. It’s a raccoon. Had you found a human in that condition, maybe, but even then it’d be a long shot.”
James was on his own.
• • •
Mandy’s therapist’s office hadn’t changed in two weeks, but she had. Somehow the room looked brighter, the colors more deeply hued, the angles crisper. The world was new again.
Dr. Graham examined her chart. “Looks like you were pretty steady until Friday. What happened then?”
“Lola arrived.”
“Lola?”
“My mother.”
“Ah. Let’s chat about your mother. Is she still here? How are you doing with her around?”
Mandy described Lola’s arrival, her flirting, and their arguments.
“Have you always called her Lola?” he asked.
Mandy searched her memory. “I don’t think I did in the beginning, but after my parents split she insisted I call her Lola. I guess she didn’t want the men she was with to think of her as a mother. Cut down on her sex appeal. After a while, I was working so hard taking care of her, she didn’t seem like a mother to me.”
“Must have been tough.”
Mandy nodded.
“How do you feel about her now?”
Mandy examined her hands, confused by the question. Lola irritated her. “Angry.”
“Are you angry with her all the time? Or only when she does something that causes you pain?”
Again Mandy was stumped. “I moved across the country so I wouldn’t have to deal with her. She’s my mother, so of course I think about her. But I don’t make my decisions worrying about what she’d say anymore. Until she does something irrational like showing up in Yosemite, of course. Then she makes me crazy.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s always about her.”
“Has it always been that way?”
Mandy’s laugh sounded like a snort. “Yeah.”
“You sure you’re not reacting because you want it to be about you?”
She didn’t have to debate about her answer. “Quite sure. I mean, of course I want to have attention, but I don’t need it all the time like she does.”
“Another indication that you probably not bipolar. Tell me more about Lola.”
Mandy talked for close to a half hour about Lola’s antics and her stormy relationship with her mother. Periodically, the therapist made notes on his pad. When she was through, he uncrossed and crossed his legs, smoothed his pad, and looked at her.
“Your instincts are good. I believe your mother, in addition to whatever bipolar issues she might have, is a narcissist. In order to survive, you had to leave. Now, you have to stay as far away as possible until you are sure you can ignore her efforts to control the conversation and your thoughts.”
Mandy shifted on the black couch. “How do I do that?”
“I think you’re already on your way. The more we talk, the more you’ll realize what works for you and what doesn’t.”
“Okay, but what about bipolar issues? Do I have it?”
He shook his head. “Based on our conversations so far, as well as your mood chart, I don’t think you do. I can understand why you’re worried about it, but there’s a big gap between your behavior and your mother’s. When are you getting those tests I ordered?”
“This afternoon, before I go back up to the park.”
“Good.” He looked at his watch and then back at her. “We have a few more minutes. Anything else you want to discuss?”
James.
Dr. Graham cocked his head, but didn’t say anything.
“There’s this situation,” she began. She told the therapist about her relationship with James, his life plan, her unwillingness to move to Hollywood, and her growing affection for him.
The doctor tapped his pen on his pad. “Love isn’t easy in this day and age. Clashing careers, backgrounds, and goals create problems before, during, and even after a marriage. It takes a lot of work and communication to try to make a relationship work. Is it something you’re willing to do?”
“I’m not ready to get married.”
His smile was thin. “I agree. But marriage isn’t always the endgame. Plenty of couples live together without marriage. Or people who are married sometimes live separate lives, even within the same house. No matter how the relationship looks, communication, respect, and trust are vital.” He leaned forward. “Can you do that?”
She stared at her fingernails. They needed a manicure.
“I have no idea.”
• • •
When Mandy returned late Monday afternoon with a car full of crammed coolers and stuffed boxes, the parking lot resembled a fairground used by a newly arrived carnival team. Sally’s trailer was in the lodge parking lot, several rental trucks were parked near the trail to the cabins, and people were toting boxes, bails, and bags into the trucks.
Sally and James stood in the middle of the lot talking to a short and trim man in pressed khakis and business shirt. All three wore serious expressions.
Mandy started to walk toward the group. Sally spotted her, shook her head, and pointed to the trailer.
Mandy got the message and returned to her car, picked up a box of vegetables, and turned toward the trailer.
“Hey, let me help you.”
She glanced up to see the assistant location manager smiling at her.
She smiled. “Thanks. I could use the help, Doug.”
“These going to the kitchen trailer?”
“Yes. Thank you again. This is going to make the job so much easier.”
She picked up another box and followed Doug, glancing across the parking lot at Sally and James. Sally was in heated discussion with the stranger.
James was scowling at Mandy and Doug.
Mandy grinned. He was jealous again. The thought gave her a small burst of happiness. He really did care for her. If she was honest with herself, she knew she had feelings for him, too.
What am I going to do about it?
“Where do you want the box?” Doug asked when they c
limbed into the small space.
“Just set it on the counter. I figure we can unload the car and then I’ll start putting things away.”
“Sounds good. Is this your first film?” he asked.
“I worked a couple of weeks for James down in Santa Cruz, but this is the first one that lasted this long.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yeah. I think I do.”
They picked up another load from the car. She glanced back at James.
Still scowling.
They made a few more trips, idly talking before Doug asked, “What’s with you and James? Are you an item?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer. The question was bold for a man she didn’t know very well. “Why do you want to know?”
“So I could ask you out and not get fired by the boss.”
Nine months ago she couldn’t get a date for New Years. Now she had two men at her doorstep. Or tent step.
Whatever.
She put down her box. “You live in LA, right?”
He nodded.
“I live in Costanoa. The film’s going to end in a few weeks. It’s not a good time to start something new.”
“But it’s okay to do something with the boss-man.”
The edge to his tone caught her off-guard.
She took a step back. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business.”
“I see,” Doug said. He left, hopefully to fetch another box.
• • •
Mandy was still putting away groceries when Sally came into the trailer. The older woman poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter.
“What’s up?” Mandy asked. “Why is the trailer over here?”
Sally sighed. “It’s unbelievable. I don’t understand why someone would do a thing like that?”
“Like what?”
“Someone put a dead raccoon on a serving platter and left it in the canteen tent this morning.”
“What?” Mandy stopped what she was doing and stared at Sally, her stomach clenching. “Why? How?”
“The raccoon died of natural causes. The rangers checked it out. As for why, we don’t really know, but because of the previous sabotage, James thinks it’s part of the pattern.”
“Let me get this straight.” Mandy grabbed her own cup of coffee. “Someone stole a platter from the trailer, found a dead raccoon, and served it in the canteen?”
“That pretty much sums it up, except I don’t think they stole our platter. Nothing’s missing.”
Mandy’s vivid imagination conjured up the scene, and she put the mug of coffee on the counter and tried to keep down the nausea threatening her equilibrium. She managed to force words past the urge to vomit. “I can see why you moved, but what are we going to do for a serving tent?”
Sally pointed to the rental trucks. “Those belong to the lodge. As soon as they’re done packing up, we’re moving the trailer over there. They’re leaving the lodge’s dining tent for us to use. James’ll have the tent packed and moved to lodge storage after the shoot is done.” Sally shook her head. “This is shooting big holes in the movie budget.”
“What happened to the old tent?”
“Sent for fumigation, and then back to LA.” Sally put the eggs into refrigerator. “Beth Ann is having a fit. All this sabotage is messing up her shooting schedule big time. We’re going to have to stay an extra few days to make it up.”
“That’ll be okay. I checked with the grill while I was in Costanoa, and things haven’t picked up yet. This economy is really bad. I hope I can find work when I finally get home.”
“You know, I’m still looking for a permanent assistant,” Sally said.
Mandy didn’t know how to reply. She wasn’t totally against the idea anymore, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to commit to anything.
Someone knocked on the door and turned the handle.
James.
Her breath caught. Then she saw the scowl. “Hi. Need something? Coffee?” She glanced at the pot. Still relatively full.
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
“What do you need then?” Sally said. “We’re busy.” She looked at him. Then looked at Mandy. “I’ll be right back. I forgot—” She pushed to the front of the trailer. “Something.”
The clang of the door closing echoed their aloneness.
“What was Doug doing with you?” James asked.
Mandy pulled out a mixing bowl. “He helped bring the boxes in.” She was tempted to add that it wasn’t any of his business, but since he was the location manager, it was.
“That all?”
She slammed the metal mixing spoon on the counter and turned to face him, hands on her hips. “If you must know, he threw me against the counter and had his way with me. Sheesh, James. Of course that’s all.” She pulled out the flour and sugar containers.
“Sorry. I guess I thought he might ask you out. He thinks you’re good-looking.”
Her face heated. “He did. I turned him down.”
James moved closer to her, his breath soft against her neck. “Why?”
For some reason she didn’t really understand, he was annoying her. A little jealousy was one thing. Possessiveness another.
She shrugged. “He lives in LA. The movie is ending soon. What’s the point?”
“But you’re going out with me on Wednesday night, aren’t you? What’s the difference?”
“He made the same point.” She cracked the eggs into the volcano-shaped mound of flour.
His sigh sounded relieved. “What’s the answer, then?”
Whisking the eggs into the flour as she drizzled olive oil used up her concentration.
He stood there, unmoving.
She finished the delicate maneuver, turned to get the spices she needed, and ran into him. “I’ve got work to do, James.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She looked up at him. “It’s complicated enough with you. I don’t want to add anyone else to the mix. In a few weeks the movie will be done, and we’ll go our separate ways.” She hesitated a moment, then added, “Won’t we?”
“Can we discuss it on Wednesday?” He put his hand on her arm.
She shook it off. She didn’t have the time or patience for kisses. “Whatever. Now, can you get out of the kitchen, find Sally, and tell her it’s safe to come back?”
“Okay. Wednesday though.”
“Fine. Leave.” She smiled at him to soften the words.
He kissed her. “Wednesday.”
The door slammed behind him.
She stood still for a moment, still unsure that going out on a date with her boss was smart. His kiss still lingered on her lips.
Too late now.
Chapter 17
By Wednesday night Mandy was exhausted. Creating and serving two meals a day had been bad enough, but three left no time for rest. When she did lie down at night, she stewed over James. Why was she seeing him? Why did his kisses remove all resolve from her spine?
There was more than the kisses. She was secure with James. Yes, he confused her with his plan, his kisses, and his refusal to treat her like the women he frequently dated, but he sounded as in turmoil as she was over his indecision. He’d never do anything to deliberately hurt her.
On top of everything, he was stable and treated her with respect.
She finished scrubbing the last pot, dried her hands, and hung up her apron. James had said he’d wait outside the trailer for her at eight. It was still early, but the day had been warm. A little time outside wouldn’t hurt her. She pushed open the door.
James stood at the foot of the stairs, his Hollywood good looks highlighted by the parking lot lights. Pressed khakis, a button-down shirt, and light jacket completed the preppy look.
Her heart skipped a little as a jolt, almost like a caffeine jolt, tripped through her body.
“Your tent or mine?” James asked with a chuckle. He held up a bottle of Yosemite Red and two glasses. “I nabbed a treat
from the lodge before they rolled out the other day.”
“Um.” She so did not want to be alone with this man in something as intimate as a small tent. A small tent with a bed. “How about the dining tent? The lights are still on.”
“As long as we can have a corner table, away from the gossiping crowds.”
She smiled, but concern tugged at the corners of her mouth. If she decided to go to Hollywood, and if she decided to date James, would she need to be worried about gossip? She was Dana and Lola’s daughter after all.
“What’s the matter?” James asked as they walked across the parking lot.
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Hollywood gossip.”
“As long as you’re not a celebrity, it’s not that bad.”
They lucked out. No one else was in the dining tent. They sat down in the far corner of the tent, away from the entrance and any of the plastic windows. James uncorked the wine, and poured it into their glasses. He raised his glass and said, “Here’s to only one more week of shooting.”
“I’ll clink to that.” She’d enjoyed the job, but was tired of schlepping food for hundreds of miles, keeping squirrels and chipmunks off tables, and the lack of any place nearby to get a decent slice of pizza.
“This has been a hard location,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “Not every place is this remote. Your next job will be easier.”
She shook her head. “I still don’t think Hollywood is the right place for me. They may not gossip about you there, but I’ve got a load of baggage I’d be bringing with me.”
“Only if you bring it up. Most of what your parents did is ancient history. No one cares anymore.”
“But Dana’s important.”
James leaned back in his chair. “He’s also below the radar. He and his new wife lead a conservative lifestyle and keep out of the media as much as possible because of the girls.”
“How do you know that?”
“Sally’s known him a long time. I’d love to work with his company—it’s one of the best in town. I’ve tried to learn as much about him as I can.”
“Oh.” The idea of her father having a life beyond her pricked at her. It should have been her life.
James pulled a brown envelope out of his jacket pocket. “Sorry for the lame wrapping, but I got this for you when I was in the valley last week.”