“Everett.”
“Yeah.... Honey, I told you that girl would hurt you.”
Brad started picking cat hair off his shirt. “Like that’s stopped her before.”
“I know!” Nadia agreed. “It’s like she chooses them for how unavailable they are.”
Brad laughed. “Totally oh my god. It’s like some bad dating show.”
Devin held up two different earrings. “Haha, you’re both hilarious.”
Brad pointed to the faux-diamond studs. “Those. You know, Devin it is possible to go out with someone who actually loves you back.”
“Oh, is that how it works?” Devin looked at herself in the mirror on the dresser while she slipped in the earrings.
Nadia suddenly lit up, “Oh, here, I brought you a flower to wear in your hair.”
She held out a smushed up lily to Devin, who looked at it uncertainly.
“I don’t know, hon. I think I’m good.”
“Are you wearing your hair up or down?”
Devin looked to Brad, who answered for her, “Down.”
Nadia held up the flower again. “See? With your gorgeous chestnut hair, I thought it’d look really nice.”
Brad leaned over toward Nadia, “Let me see that.”
She handed it to him.
Brad held it like plutonium. “It’s totally squashed.”
“I sat on it in the car. It’s perfectly nice though! I got it from my neighbor’s garden.”
Brad turned it around and spotted a white shmear. “Nadia! It’s got birdshit on it!”
Devin started laughing.
“It doesn’t!” Nadia said.
“It totally does.” He twirled it around and pointed. “Right there.”
Devin, still laughing, slipped her Dolce and Gabbana strappy heels on. “Now I want to wear it.”
Nadia finally chuckled too. “Oh, well...”
Devin walked across her bedroom and gave her a hug. “Don’t ever change.”
Nadia laughed. “Okay, I’m off... Have fun tonight. And if it works out like I hope it will, make sure I’m maid of honor at your wedding!”
“I will, sweetheart...”
Brad raised an eyebrow at Nadia. “Not in that outfit I hope.”
13
Producer Sis Warren wiped her sweaty palms on her grey slacks as she walked along the backstage corridor trailing behind a burly uniformed LAPD officer and a large black toothy German Shepherd. The auditorium sweep was finished and now the last remaining room to security check – the director’s booth.
Sis was moving in a group of a dozen police and Homeland Security officials.
Behind her as they made their way along the corridor Sis could hear Richard Blakely casually chatting with Dan Milner from Homeland Security.
“Really? Not a Lakers fan? How does that work?” Richard was saying cheerfully.
Milner snorted, “The Lakers... please. I’m a New Yorker.”
“The Knicks? Are you kidding me? Have a little self respect, man.”
Sis didn’t know how Richard did it. There was nothing not terrifying about what they needed to clear here. He really must be a sociopath. Thank God for that. She had hired the right person
They reached the door to the booth and the LAPD officer with the dog turned around to Sis.
“Here, Ma’am?”
“Yes, right through that door there.”
Sis followed the officer and the German Shepherd into the director’s booth; all sound suddenly dimmed to nothingness as they stepped inside the insulated room.
The director Marty Sherman and three others were sitting at a board, facing a bank of 10 screens. They all looked up, a bit startled to see uniformed officers spilling in.
Sis held her hand up to indicate ‘nothing to worry about.’ “Final sweep before the show,” She said. “You guys can stay where you are.”
Milner walked into the booth behind Richard. “Last room left to do, folks. We’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”
The LAPD Officer led the German Shepherd through the booth, the dog alert and sniffing.
Sis’s heart was pounding. She realized she must’ve appeared nervous because Richard flashed her a look as if to say, ‘Calm the fuck down.’
Richard Blakely saw from the look on Sis Warren’s face this better be over soon.
Richard looked up and saw the German Shepherd stop in front of a very large red cooler bag sitting in the corner.
Richard took a deep breath. Once they were through this, they were through. Just one more thing to clear. No big deal. A minute from now this’d be over.
The German Shepherd was fixated on the cooler bag and started scratching at it with both paws. This caused the LAPD Officer to flick his eyes towards Dan Milner, indicating concern.
Richard knew he couldn’t even look at Sis Warren for fear she might fall apart.
Milner walked over to where the bag was.
“Something unusual?” Milner asked the officer.
“Could be.”
Milner crouched next to the bag. He turned to the crew at the board. “What’s in here?”
Sis piped in. “Oh, that’s mine.”
“Can we open it?”
“Sure.”
Milner leaned over and unzipped the bag - the dog stuck his face in as soon as it was open, he started going crazy and making little gnur gnur sounds.
“I see...” Milner said as he reached inside and pulled out one of about two dozen wrapped sandwiches.
Sis smiled. “I got steak sandwiches for everyone, the AD’s and the gang in here. The show sometimes goes long and--”
Milner started laughing. He petted the German Shepherd on the head and scruffed his ears. “Well, you are a dog, after all…”
He tossed the sandwich back in and zipped the bag shut. He stood up and looked at the LAPD officer. “Okay. That it?”
“Yes, sir. Rest of the room is clear.”
“Good.”
The officers started filing out the door.
“Thanks for your time, Sis,” Milner called cheerfully.
“No problem. Thanks, guys,” she smiled.
Good. Less freaked. Richard thought.
Richard walked out the door behind the others - after all he was one of them. He didn’t turn around to look at Sis. He didn’t need to. They both knew what this meant. It was done. They were clear. They’d gone over it a hundred times before tonight. And now they were set.
Sis watched the door close and sat down in her chair at the board, in charge again. “Okay, gang… One hour to go. Are we ready for this?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Marty Sherman said.
“Excellent.”
For the first time since the planning started almost a year ago, Sis knew she was ready for this.
And aiding her plan, in that cooler bag, underneath the steak sandwiches and the false bottom was 30 pounds of C4 explosives, complete with detonators.
Revenge was coming in about two hours time.
14
Part time backup dancer and rest of the time dog walker Caitlin O’Brian gathered up three dog leashes into her right hand, as she made her way up the steep incline of Weepah Road in Laurel Canyon heading towards the dirt path off Utica Drive that her charges enjoyed as their daily walk.
Caitlin paused. And with that, a poodle, a bulldog and a shih tzu all paused, awaiting instructions. If Caitlin wasn’t such a good dancer, she might be a professional dog wrangler.
She guided the mismatched threesome to make a left turn and she strode up the steep curving incline that began Utica Drive - the favorite part of her walk. And pretty much the favorite part of her day - not every day, just the days the foxy police detective was home. Sometimes she was sitting outside on the steps reading a book. She reads. Sigh. A couple of times Caitlin came upon her after she’d just pulled in after work, wearing sunglasses from driving and some gorgeous feminine suit from some fancy designer. She always had time for a smile and a chitchat. Good G
od. Knowing there was a gun and handcuffs under there was almost more than Caitlin could take. It could make a girl want to get arrested.
As Caitlin came up around the bend of the road, the sight of Devin Jones took her breath away. She was not prepared for the vision of the gorgeous police detective standing outside her house with a friend - she was wearing a sleeveless v-neck black dress just above her knee and high heels, her brown hair falling over her bare shoulders in that amazing dress. Caitlin came around the corner and took in the whole picture.
Oh my God. Wow.
Devin Jones looked over at Caitlin and smiled that dazzling smile of hers. She was lit from within. Jesus. Too much. Caitlin’s heart was pounding.
Clonk.
“Oh fuck…” Caitlin muttered to herself, she’d just walked into the Murray’s mailbox. The shih tzu turned around to give her a dirty look from the tug.
“Hey, Devin,” she called over.
“Hey Caitlin. Careful there.” Devin smiled, indicating the mailbox.
“Yeah…”Oh my God. I love you. “Are you…. You’re not going to the Hollywood Screen Awards, are you?”
“I am.”
“Cool.”
“Blind date,” her friend, a cute buff gay guy in a tight navy t-shirt said.
Devin looked embarrassed. “Thanks, Brad.”
“Well,” Caitlin said smiling, “Whoever the guy is... He’s lucky. You look amazing.”
Devin laughed. “Actually, he’s a she… But thanks.”
Caitlin felt her heart start to race.
Oh my GOD! She’s Gay?! All this time she’s been gay?! And now she’s going out with someone else? Kill me now.
Devin looked at the cute blond dog walker whom she often hurried outside to ‘accidentally run into’ when she heard the dogs jingling up from Weepah.
Devin wished there was a way to know if someone was gay or interested. She wished a little sign would light up. It drove her crazy because it seemed like a lot of the time, the people who asked her out were either well intentioned men or overly confident women who considered themselves players. So not her type. She liked sweet and she loved shy. Caitlin was definitely all of the above. And that bit of a Southern accent didn’t hurt anything. She was not only pretty - she was sweet and she was kind - all qualities Devin Jones found extremely sexy. Although a lot more dangerous than some asshole where her heart was concerned.
Devin heard a scritchy-scratchy sound and looked down to see the little white poodle Caitlin was walking digging a hole in a neighbor’s front garden.
Caitlin snapped to attention. She addressed the naughty poodle. “Okay, okay...That’s enough.”
He kept digging.
“Hans! Stop.”
Finally, the poodle obeyed.
Caitlin looked up. “Suppose that’s my cue. I should go.”
Devin smirked. “I guess the devil makes work for idle Hans…”
Brad rolled his eyes. Devin gave him a quick glare.
Caitlin on the other hand laughed. “Yeah…”
She looked for a moment like she wanted to say something. Then she changed her mind.
“Right...We should go. I’ll see you, Devin. Have fun tonight.”
“Bye…”
Caitlin walked away - the menagerie of dogs leading her like a walking version of a stagecoach.
Brad leaned in. “She’s adorable.”
“I know.”
“…She walked into the mailbox.”
“I know.”
“But you’ll never ask her out because…”
“…I’m an idiot?”
They both watched her go. Brad lowered his voice. “She has got a rockin’ body. I’ll tell you that much...She the dancer?”
Devin checked her watch. “Mm hmm..”
Brad nudged her. “Look.”
“No.”
Brad continued watching. “Look at that ass.”
“Brad! I’m not like you. Things like that don’t matter to-”
“Just look.”
Devin did, then shook her head and laughed. “Yeah. Okay. Fine.”
“Ask her out.”
“I don’t even know if she’s gay or bi or whatever.”
“That was a lot of blushing for a straight girl…”
“Maybe she wouldn’t want to go out with me.”
“You just don’t want to get hurt.”
“Thank you, Dr. Phil.”
At that moment, a sleek black limousine came creeping up Weepah and around the bend to Devin’s house at the top of the ascent.
Devin felt a rush of excitement. The never-ending potential of possibility.
“Ooh, this is it. I hope she’s nice…” Devin said.
“Me too.”
The limo came to a stop in front of them. A driver got out.
Devin turned to Brad. She leaned in and gave him a kiss. “Wish me luck.”
“Yeah, good luck….”
The Driver opened the door for Devin and she climbed in.
Inside the limo was a bit dim; all she could make out was the silhouette of a person holding a champagne flute sitting across from her.
Then she heard a foghorn-like voice bellow the words...
“Holy crap! You’re a looker!”
Devin’s eyes adjusted to see her date, Zephyr Studios head of publicity Lori Plom sitting on the opposite seat. The woman quickly scurried over and plunked herself down next to Devin.
“I’m Lori.”
It was a lot for Devin to take in. The strawberry blond helmet of hair, the oversized smiling face, the hint of Versace Pour Homme.
Everything very, very wrong.
“Hi, Lori,” Devin managed. “I’m Devin.” She held her hand out, which Lori limply shook.
“Oh, I know who you are.”
Meanwhile up front, the driver was futzing with his seat belt.
Suddenly a storm cloud came over Lori Plom’s freckled face as he adjusted this way and that.
“Fucking GO already!”
Devin’s heart sank. Dear God. What had she gotten herself into? This? The whole night?
Her panicked inner monologue was broken by the sensation of someone leaning in close, the wafting smell of champagne and deli meat and the sound of Lori Plom’s voice cooing –
“I googled you…”
God, this was going to be a long and very bad night.
15
Richard Blakely put his hand on the barrel of the gun under his jacket. It felt good knowing it was there. He felt powerful and he felt ready. He was walking the corridors backstage in pre-show security mode. But really getting a further lay of the land.
There was a narrow corridor just off the stage that led out to a wider one, in that corridor all swathed with red velvet curtain, there were four dressing rooms and the engraving station where the winners would drop off their award to be hand engraved. Richard smiled at the hot looking Catherine Deneuve type French woman who was manning the station. She smiled back and added a wink for good measure. Sure she was a bit older, but if he had the time...
A minute later, as he strolled the busy dressing room corridor, where assistants were rushing by with headsets and clipboards and nervous looking presenters were starting to assemble, he heard a snarling voice behind him.
“I asked you a question, asshole.”
Richard turned around slowly to face Ray Kitson who was standing in his dressing room door, his face red with rage.
Richard almost laughed. But remembered who he had to pretend to be. And that guy would probably be cool. Not snap this fucker’s neck like he was tempted.
Richard smiled. “Is there a problem, sir?”
Ray glared at him. “I asked you a question and you fucking walked right by me.”
“I didn’t hear any question.”
Richard looked at the most popular action star in the world. He came up to Richard’s chin. Ray wasn’t wearing his lifts and was his actual height, not the height on his fan club page. “I sai
d I want some coffee.”
“And that has something to do with me because?”
Ray sneered. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Sir, I’m in charge of backstage security. I’m sure there’s some PA running around who’d love to get you a coffee.”
“I don’t like your attitude.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Ray shoved him. “You wanna get into it?”
Now Richard did laugh. “Okay… Sir, just calm down.” He spotted a PA down the hall. “Scuse me, sweetheart?”
A 20 something girl with a clipboard and a headset came over to them. ‘Yes, Mr. Leise?”
“What’s your name again?”
“Genevieve.”
Richard smiled. “Genevieve, would you mind getting Mr. Kitson a coffee?’
“Of course. How would you like your coffee, Mr. Kitson?”
Ray was beyond enraged. “Nevermind…I don’t want a coffee.”
Genevieve stood waiting for further instruction.
Ray glared at her. “I said forget it! Just fuck off and get lost.”
Richard saw the girl’s face drop. She started to walk away. Richard touched her arm.
“Wait a second, honey.” Richard turned to Ray Kitson, now he was pissed and this fucker was going to pay. “I think you owe the young lady an apology.”
Ray laughed. He got right in Richard’s face. He was small but built like a brick shit house. “You wanna get into it?”
Again with that. Yes, Richard thought. I want to get into it. I can think of twenty ways right now to kill you with my bare hands.
Richard glanced at Genevieve who looked mortified and panic stricken. He smiled warmly, “Thanks, Genevieve. And I’m sorry about this…”
She hurried back along the hallway.
Ray was cracking his knuckles. “I’m ready, asshole. You wanna go? Let’s go…”
Richard looked at this yutz trying to be menacing. He wanted to laugh in his face.
“No, Ray…Let’s not go.”
Richard turned away and walked down the hall. Behind him he heard Ray Kitson laughing at him. “Hahaha…. you fuckin’ pussy. And you’re in charge of our security?”
This is Devin Jones Page 5