Deadly Production (Mapleton Mystery Book 4)

by Terry Odell

  “Please,” he said.

  Did Marianna notice Angie had called him by his first name? Did she chalk it up to being in a small town where everyone used first names? Did it even matter? Everyone in town knew he and Angie were in a relationship, so why not a few strangers?

  While Angie went to deal with tea and coffee, Gordon dealt with Marianna. “According to your schedule, you’re going to be shooting at Aspen Lake the day after tomorrow. Since today’s the first I’ve heard of any of this, I’ll try to bring in county deputies to help. How much support do you need, and exactly what will you want them to do?”

  “I understand. Normally, we’d have set this up much further in advance, but we needed the fall colors, and we can’t control when the leaves turn, so we’ve been more or less on standby. When I spoke to the mayor about it several months ago, he assured me he would take care of things.”

  Gordon didn’t share his thoughts about what he’d like to tell the mayor about that one.

  Marianna went on. “Also, we’re trying to keep the whole production under wraps as much as possible. Now that Cassidy has shown up, I’m afraid you’ll be inundated with paparazzi, especially given his recent … difficulties.” She gave the actor a pointed glare.

  “I’m afraid I’m not aware of any … difficulties.” Gordon decided it was better to admit ignorance than get caught unprepared.

  Cassidy returned Marianna’s glare, then lowered his head and his voice. “I had a minor substance abuse problem for a little while. The papers made a big deal out of it, but I’m fine.” He gave Marianna a defiant stare. “I’m clean. And ready to work. I’m checked in at the B and B. I assume you’ve got a driver to make sure I’m where you want me when you want me there.”

  Marianna nodded and stirred her coffee, her spoon clinking against the ceramic mug in a syncopated rhythm.

  Cassidy Clarke’s turquoise eyes were almost cop eyes, the way they never held still, always taking in their surroundings. However, unlike Gordon, Cassidy chose to sit with his back to the door, thus avoiding the curious glances of most of the other customers in the diner. Though he did seem to sense Angie’s approach—almost as soon as Gordon did—and when Cassidy raised his head the smile had returned, full force.

  Angie carried a tray with two mugs, a teapot, and plates of cinnamon rolls. She distributed the mugs, placed the teapot in front of Cassidy, and set the rolls in the center of the table. “Your egg white veggie omelet will be up in a minute,” she said to Marianna. “Can I top off your coffee?”

  “Please.”

  Angie motioned to Donna, one of the Daily Bread wait staff, who nodded and patted her gray curls into place before grabbing a pot from behind the counter. Gordon noticed the flush to her cheeks as she tried to appear nonchalant while refilling Marianna’s mug, before she moved on to another table.

  Marianna grabbed three yellow sweetener packets, stacked them, and ripped them open in one practiced tear. She stirred them into her coffee, then took a tentative sip.

  Gordon grabbed a plate and slid a cinnamon roll toward Cassidy. “This might be the best thing about your stay in Mapleton.”

  Cassidy cut a small piece of the sticky confection and forked it into his mouth. Gordon waited, watching the man’s expression as he chewed the morsel. The eyes rolled, then closed. Cassidy’s tongue darted out, capturing any errant crumbs and sugary icing. And then, the sigh as he reached for the plate and snagged another—much bigger—bite.

  “I think you’re right, but I’m going to have to try more before I can agree.” Cassidy grinned at Angie. “Might take one every day I’m here before I’ll know for sure whether these are the best darn cinnamon rolls I’ve ever had.”

  Angie beamed. “You’ve got it.”

  Donna returned to the table with Marianna’s omelet. Trying to set it in front of the woman while casting furtive glances at Cassidy, she narrowly avoided knocking over Marianna’s water glass. “I’m so sorry.” At Angie’s slight frown, Donna stepped back half a pace. “Is there anything I can get for anyone?”

  “We’re fine, Donna,” Angie said.

  Marianna poked her fork around in her omelet, as if taking inventory of its contents. She took a delicate bite, and although she didn’t partake of any of the cinnamon rolls, Gordon noticed the wistful peeks in their direction.

  “You can’t come to Mapleton without sampling one of Angie’s cinnamon rolls,” Gordon said. He slid a plate her way and smiled. “It’s a requirement if you expect any cooperation from the Police Department.”

  “I suppose a taste won’t hurt,” she said. She forked off a piece even smaller than Cassidy’s first sample and nibbled. “Oh, yes, these are delicious.” She finished the bite she’d taken and then went back to poking around her omelet. Dabbing at her lips between bites, she ate about a third of it and pushed her plate aside.

  “Angie, honey,” Marianna said, “if you have anything else to do, this next part doesn’t deal with our scheduled shoots in your little restaurant. I’ll bring you up to speed later.”

  At the abrupt dismissal, color rose in Angie’s face. She gave a brief nod, then spun away toward the kitchen.

  “Wait up.” Cassidy scooted out of the booth, stuffing the last bit of cinnamon roll into his mouth.

  Angie turned, her blush still evident, but Gordon expected it was for an entirely different reason now. Cassidy caught up to her.

  “I’m not needed for this discussion, either,” he said. “Maybe we can talk about the scenes in the diner. I’d love to see where you make these phenomenal cinnamon rolls.”

  Angie cocked her head toward Marianna, who lifted a hand and waggled her manicured fingers. “Go.”

  Marianna leaned across the table, her expensive perfume outweighing the aroma of the cinnamon rolls. “Your mayor assured me you run a tight ship here, Chief Hepler.” She paused, and again, Gordon wondered if she was waiting for him to say “Call me Gordon.” Still wasn’t going to happen.

  With a flip of her hair, Marianna continued. “In reality, we’re not going to have too many scenes requiring a huge cast. Ten actors, some extras, and then the crew. The faster we can get in and out, the better, both for the picture itself and for our budget. I’ve got a small crew coming in later today to start shooting the backgrounds. The only place that will fall within your jurisdiction for these shots, as I understand it, is Aspen Lake. We’ll be shooting elsewhere as well, and we’ll be doing that often, to take maximum advantage of the turning leaves.”

  “I understand,” Gordon said, although he might have a short chat with the mayor when this was over. He checked the time. “If you like, I can introduce you at the morning briefing, and you can let my officers know what you expect of them. Then, I’m afraid I’ll have to deal with official business, but I’ll be free by nine to go over specifics.”

  She seemed to ponder that, as if slighted she wouldn’t have him at her beck and call around the clock. “A brief introduction will be fine, so your officers know who I am, but I’ll leave the rest to you. We have our own security people for the actual shooting sites and our staging areas, but keeping rubberneckers at bay is best left to law enforcement.”

  “Are you going to need security for these preliminary background shots?” Gordon asked.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary, but if we run into problems, may I call you?”

  “What kind of problems do you anticipate?” Gordon prepared himself for what Marianna considered problems worthy of police intervention.

  “Not having access to places we’d like to be, or, if there are too many people milling about, a police presence helps convince them to stay out of our way. We don’t object to people watching as long as they’re not interfering with the shoot, and as for backgrounds, noise isn’t an issue. But we don’t want to find someone has managed to insert himself into our footage. Sometimes we need traffic diverted.”

  Gordon was sure she already knew the answers to everything she’d presented, and had covere
d it as part of her job. Was she trying to prove to him she knew what she was doing? Didn’t matter to him. He answered her questions. Maybe it meant more to her if they were delivered face to face. “For Aspen Lake, or anything in Mapleton proper, you can call my office. I assume you have contact information for the county deputies for anything outside Mapleton’s city limits. And for the major highways, it’s the State Patrol.”

  She nodded. By not asking for his number, he assumed he’d been correct. The mayor had probably given her his direct line, too. And his cell.

  “How many officers do you usually need for a typical shooting day?” he asked. “You understand this is a small force, and everyone has regular duties.”

  “Five or six should be plenty,” she said.

  Half a shift? He’d definitely need to bring in extra personnel. At least the mayor couldn’t complain about the overtime budget.

  When the door opened, Gordon automatically checked to see who was coming in. A woman this time, familiar because he’d fixed a mental image of her when he’d read the cast list. The oversize sunglasses and a bright green scarf over all but a few wisps of her trademark red hair weren’t enough of a disguise. Lily Beckett. He schooled his features into his professional demeanor as the woman strode toward their table. Her expression wasn’t much different from the one on Cassidy Clarke’s face when he’d stormed across the dining room.

  Maybe fall wasn’t going to be his favorite season in Mapleton after all.

  Gordon listened as the murmurs trailed Lily Beckett through Daily Bread like a fox after a field mouse. When she stopped at their table, Gordon’s first thought was cat fight.

  Marianna’s eyes sought the ceiling, her lips flattened. “Yes, Lily. What do you want? You’re not supposed to be here for two days yet.”

  “Cassidy’s here. Which means the press will be here. Someone needs to run damage control. Or prevent the damage from happening in the first place.”

  “I believe that’s more my job than yours.” Marianna patted the vinyl bench beside her. “At least sit down and smile. Like you’re happy to be here.”

  Lily sat. She removed her sunglasses but left the scarf on. Only then did she seem to notice Gordon sitting across from her. Like her leading man counterpart, her expression went totally PR. She tugged off a black leather glove and extended her hand. “I’m Lily Beckett.”

  “Lily, this is Police Chief Hepler. We’ve been going over basic security measures.”

  Lily removed her other glove and put them both inside a purse almost as large as Marianna’s, which she set on the bench between them. “Nice to meet you, Chief.”

  Donna bustled over to the table, clearly star-struck for the second time in fifteen minutes. “Good morning. Welcome to Daily Bread. I’m Donna. Would you like coffee or tea to start?” She pulled the pencil from the knot of curls at the top of her head.

  Gordon suppressed a laugh. He’d never heard any of the wait staff do the introduction thing before.

  “Decaf coffee,” Lily said. “A splash of cream and two sugars.”

  Gordon wondered how Lily would take to doctoring her own brew when it got here. Or if Donna would fix it for her.

  Donna returned a moment later, setting a mug of steaming coffee in front of Lily, along with a metal creamer. “Here you are. Sugar’s on the table.”

  Lily smiled. “Thank you very much.”

  Donna glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen, then at Lily. “I know I shouldn’t be bothering you, but would you mind?” She tore off a page from her order book and put it on the table along with a pen she plucked from her apron pocket. “I’m a huge fan.”

  Lily smiled again, and although Gordon knew this must be routine to the point of annoying for her, she seemed to act as if nobody had ever asked for her autograph before.

  “Donna, is it?” Lily picked up the pen.

  “Yes. That would be wonderful.” Donna cut her gaze toward the kitchen again. Lily wrote on the paper and returned it to Donna. The waitress read it and clutched it to her chest. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She folded the paper reverently and slipped it into her apron pocket, then scuttled away.

  “At least she didn’t insist on a picture with you,” Marianna said. “Everyone has a cell phone, and they all have cameras. Such a pain.”

  “It takes two seconds to be nice.” Lily tipped a few drops of cream into her mug. “These people are why we have jobs, after all.”

  Marianna huffed. “You’d think they’d respect people’s privacy, though.”

  In an attempt to move things into more friendly territory, Gordon passed Lily the container of sweeteners. She chose the real sugar, tore two packets open, and stirred them into her coffee. He motioned to Marianna’s unfinished roll. “Have something to eat. It’s a rule that anyone new to Mapleton has to sample a Daily Bread cinnamon roll.”

  Lily took a knife from the table and cut off a piece. Her reaction matched those of her colleagues, and she finished a couple of bites, washing them down with sips of her coffee. “Excellent. Does this mean I’m allowed to stay?” She grinned.

  “For a day or two,” Gordon said, resisting the urge to wink.

  “I wish they’d invent a camera that took off ten pounds instead of adding them,” Lily said. “Or that I’d have scenes that let me wear things like puffy winter coats or oversized robes. Plus, it seems the real weather is always the opposite of when the story is supposed to take place. Nothing like sweltering in winter garb in July, or freezing your ass off in shorts in February.”

  “Nothing to worry about this time, dear,” Marianna said. “You’ll be costumed appropriately for fall weather.”

  Too bad. Gordon wouldn’t have minded seeing Lily in shorts. And making sure he was scheduled to be on duty when she was. But, he admitted, she looked better-than-fine the way she was. He’d never noticed the freckles against her fair complexion, so he assumed they were covered by makeup for the camera. Her eyes were as green as Cassidy’s were turquoise. When she spoke to you, she had a way of making you think the conversation was the most important thing she had to do all day.

  Okay, so he’d definitely forgive Angie her fan girl moments with Cassidy. Even though he knew these people were used to pretending, they were good at it.

  Marianna moved the plate with the partially eaten cinnamon roll farther away. “Since you and Cassidy are both here, maybe we can squeeze in some of the long shots tomorrow morning.”

  “I thought those were going to be covered by stand-ins,” Lily said. “According to my schedule, Cass and I aren’t on until after lunch.”

  “It never hurts to get ahead of the game. Of course if you’d rather not—”

  It was clear from Marianna’s tone that this wasn’t open for discussion.

  “No, I’m fine with it. Tell me where and when.”

  It was clear from Lily’s tone that she wasn’t fine with it, but she knew her place. Which surprised Gordon, because he’d always thought movie stars set the ground rules. He’d probably learn more about the film business than he’d ever need to know by the time these people packed up and left.

  “Where is everyone staying?” Gordon asked. Cassidy Clarke had mentioned a B and B, but there weren’t enough rooms to house everyone in the few establishments Mapleton offered. Mapleton had no hotels—not even a chain motel—and the nearest suitable accommodations were fifteen miles away, and most of those miles were on winding mountain roads.

  Lily looked to Marianna. “Good question. Where are we staying?”

  Marianna frowned. “You didn’t get my email?”

  Lily lifted her mug. “Of course. I don’t remember off the top of my head, that’s all. I figured you wouldn’t mind saving me hunting for it.”

  “I’ve got you, Cassidy, Damien, and Julie in a Bed and Breakfast. Run by the Richardsons. Cassidy has already checked in.” She fished around in her purse for a tablet, tapped it, and swooped her fingers across the display. “We have a car to get you to and from.
”

  “Give me the address,” Lily said. “I have my own rental.”

  “You can turn it in,” Marianna reached across the table and broke off a minuscule morsel of cinnamon roll. “You won’t need it.”

  Why did Gordon think Lily was going to keep the rental? Not his problem. She and Marianna evidently had a history, and from what he could see, not all of it was good.

  Lily shrugged. “Well, the driver isn’t here now,” Lily said, “and since I’m not scheduled until tomorrow, I thought I’d take advantage of the free time, maybe drive around the mountains, enjoy the change of scenery.”

  “The aspens are almost at their peak,” Gordon said. “You should have great views. There are local area maps near the door.”

  “Thanks. That would be great.” Lily slid out of the booth and slipped her sunglasses on. “Where’s Cass? He might like something to do, too.”

  Gordon recalled the way Cassidy and Lily had both confronted Marianna when they’d first arrived. Whatever their beefs were with her, or the production company, or each other, they’d apparently set them aside for the time being. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to hit the fan, and when it did, he hoped everyone would be well outside of Mapleton.

  Chapter 3

  Gordon stood as Lily straightened her scarf and picked up her purse. He strode to the brochure rack and plucked out one of the tourist maps, then opened it and pointed out the route to her.

  “Do you know where Cass went?” she asked.

  “Last I saw, he was headed toward the kitchen. I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

  Behind them, Gordon sensed the curious stares of the breakfast crowd. If Marianna thought she could keep this production low-key, she was sorely mistaken. At least half a dozen customers were busy texting on their phones. He had a feeling there were already a few surreptitious snapshots showing up on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. Gordon had to agree with Marianna that people nowadays didn’t think twice about other people’s privacy.