Starstruck Witch

by January Daphne

  “Perfect.” She took in the view, her eyes moving slowly over the rolling mountains covered with different shades of vibrant green. The gray clouds were still there, hovering across the higher peaks, but a few patches of blue sky shone through. “I’ve got to say, it’s kind of amazing to be able to have the rest of the day to myself in the middle of a project. I don’t even have to worry about being stalked by Roger Spitz. He’ll be too busy lurking around the set, getting pictures of you.” She twirled around, her long flowing hair, fanning out around her like ribbons in the wind. Her smile widened when she saw Benjamin waddle out on his tiny twig legs.

  “Oh, is this my Lulu?” She cooed. “How did he get here?”

  The poodle opened his mouth and made what sounded suspiciously like a gagging sound.

  I stepped in front of Benjamin before the actress could get any closer. “That’s actually my dog, Benjamin.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “The Rottweiler?” She said, wearing an expression of pure astonishment.

  “Yes, when I did the transformation spell, it changed him, too.” I shrugged. “Witchcraft can be a bit unpredictable.”

  She nodded sagely. “Blake’s told me. I know all about the Wilder coven. Martha had us over for dinner quite a bit when I was here filming the original Devil’s Charade.”

  “When you say ‘us’, do you mean—”

  “Blake and me,” she said casually. “I’m sorry. I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable to hear me talk about Blake.”

  “It’s fine,” I said in a strained voice.

  Savannah laughed. “Oh, I know that tone,” she said. “That’s how I sound when I’m freaking out inside.”

  I cleared my throat, hating how transparent I was being. It wasn’t totally my fault though. No one knew Savannah better than Savannah.

  Although I had a feeling Blake knew an awful lot about Savannah, too.

  “You’re a lucky woman to have him,” she said, sitting back down on the hanging porch swing. “I’d go back to him if he’d have me, but I’ve messed up one too many times with him.” Her shoulders rounded as she sighed. The strap of her dress slipped down her shoulder. “He’s not really the type of man to give a girl a second chance. I found that out the hard way. That brother of his, on the other hand—Blake will always find a way to forgive him.”

  I didn’t want to get stuck having another heart-to-heart with Savannah, so I handed her the satellite phone from the lodge office that we used for emergencies, and took one last look around the guest cabin.

  “This is the best vacation rental on the mountain, and it also happens to be the most remote. I hope you enjoy the peace and quiet. Cell phones don’t work on this part of the mountain, so if you need me for any reason, use the satellite phone.”

  “Of course.” Savannah turned the phone over in her hands. “And you’ll have my phone.”

  I nodded. “I’ll just have it to keep up appearances. I won’t answer any of your calls.”

  Savannah twirled a dark lock of hair around her slender finger. “I’m not too worried about that. No one calls me. It’s all texts and emails. Just promise me you won’t go through my camera roll.”

  “Trust, that’s the last thing I want to do,” I said.

  She pressed her palms together. “Great, so you’ll come get me when you catch the murderer?”

  “Yes, or when the spell wears off—whichever comes first.”

  Savannah picked up her mimosa fluke and looked into the bottom of it. “Before you head out, could you pour me another mimosa—light on the juice.”

  I hesitated, feeling a little annoyed at her request, but she was used to having people wait on her. There was always someone like Lenny less than an arm’s length away to tend to her every need.

  Gritting my teeth, I headed back into the kitchen. I left the sliding glass door open so Savannah could hear my final instructions while I played bartender.

  Benjamin followed me in, his little legs working hard to keep up with me.

  “I had Frederick Forbes whip you up a couple meals to get you through until tonight. And there’s a fully-stocked mini fridge in the second bedroom. Help yourself. You’ve got wifi, a phone, and a fridge full of booze,” I said. “Very few people know about this cabin, so you should be OK. But, please, for your own safety, don’t open the door for anyone even if it’s someone you know.”

  Savannah’s toned leg hung off the porch bench as she swung lazily back and forth. “I know, I know. It could be the shapeshifter,” she said. “Oh, thank you!” She sat up and accepted the cocktail once I stepped back out to the porch. She took a sip and closed her eyes, savoring the drink. “And thanks for risking your life to save mine. I’d like to say I’d do the same for you, but honestly, I don’t know what I’d do. When Blake first told me about witches, I wanted so badly to be one. But now I don’t know. Your life seems kind of stressful.”

  “Sometimes,” I said, tuning to go.

  “Oh, look at that butt,” she said, letting out a low whistle. “Those hip hop yoga classes really did wonders for my backside. OK, bye.” She wiggled her fingers at me. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. No, but seriously, though.”

  11

  By the time I made it back down to the lodge in Savannah’s rental car, her phone was blowing up with text messages that had been sent while the phone had been out of reception.

  I parked the car in the gravel lot in front of the lodge, and skimmed the eight texts.

  One was from Blake—a message telling Savannah that she had an interview to do later today.

  Yeah, that’s not going to happen, I thought.

  The others were from Lenny Holmes, Savannah’s loyal assistant—and murder suspect—frantically asking for Savannah to report to the makeup trailer for the impromptu interview.

  Sure, I’ll stop by the makeup trailer, I thought, but I’d only go to secretly interrogate the makeup artist, Tina Price, and to inform everyone that I would not be doing anymore interviews until I wasn’t Savannah anymore.

  Before I slid out of the sedan, I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror.

  How did anyone have skin this luminous? I wondered. Seriously, it glittered like the ocean on a bright, sunny day.

  And that was just Savannah’s face.

  The rest of me, or her, was curvy in all the right places and as far as I could tell, there was not a stretch mark in sight.

  I could get used to this, I thought. But then again, I liked my face. I’d grown rather attached to it in the last twenty-eight years.

  “By all means, please keep staring at yourself in the mirror. It’s not like we’re on a time-constraint or anything,” Benjamin said, scrambling to see out the passenger side window.

  His tiny little toy poodle paws didn’t reach very far.

  “I’m just making sure my spell is holding up,” I said, scowling at my familiar.

  “Oh, believe me. It is.” He finally gave up trying to see out the window and hopped into my lap. “Look at me. Natalie, do you see me?”

  I lifted the Benjamin-poodle up and rubbed my cheek against his fur. “Yes, I do, my little fluff ball. You’re so cute, I can’t even stand it,” I gushed.

  “I will bite you,” he said.

  “You will not, you little gumdrop,” I said, opening up the car door. “You are magically obligated to protect me at all costs.”

  “I didn’t agree to this,” Benjamin said, squirming to get out of my arms.

  I just held him tighter, fighting to hold back a laugh. “It’s just for a few hours,” I said. “Besides, I kind of like you like this. It’s so much easier to tote you around, and you have so much less hair to deal with. Look,” I pointed at the passenger seat. “That seat is totally hair-free.”

  “If you do anything to extend my time in this ridiculous rodent-sized body, I’ll make your life miserable.”

  I hoisted Benjamin up to eye level and gave him a kiss on his tiny black nose. “How could a pup this pr
etty make anyone’s life miserable?” I cooed.

  “Cross me, and you’ll find out, witch,” the poodle said darkly.

  “Do you want me to carry you in Savannah’s purse?” I asked, as I delicately set Benjamin on the gravel.

  “No!” He growled. Then he began to gingerly picking his way over the rocks, moving in an awkward rhythm.

  I slammed the door and watched him a moment. “Are you sure? I don’t want those rocks to hurt your little feet.”

  Benjamin paused. Then he lifted his head as if trying to maintain his dignity. “I will go in your purse for now, but only to maintain your cover.”

  I smiled as I scooped him up and set him in Savannah’s purse, nestling him between her now-empty wallet and her cell phone. “I know this is so lame of me, but I’ve always wanted a cute, little purse dog.” I patted the puffy fur on Benjamin’s head.

  “And I’ve always wanted a witch who had better aim with her spells.”

  I headed up the path to where the movie trailers were. “Well, at least one of us got what we wanted.”

  I pushed open the door to the makeup trailer and saw Tina Price with her long braided hair, her dewy brown skin, and her pale pink lips. She startled at the sound of the door opening.

  “Savannah, hey!” she said, relief showing all over her face. “Oh, thank god. Sit down here, right now.” She moved to the side and indicated a stool set up in front of a large mirror.

  I hoisted my purse up higher on my shoulder and Benjamin’s little head popped out.

  “Oh, and Lulu’s here. Did you have him flown out?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “He looks sick or something, doesn’t he? Look at those eyes. They’re almost yellow. Maybe you should call a vet.”

  “Oh, he’s fine,” I waved my hand dismissively. “I had it checked out. It’s just jaundice. Anyway, I just stopped by to tell you I won’t be needing my makeup done today.”

  “Says who?” Tina rummaged in her purple plastic makeup kit and pulled out a bottle of foundation.

  I wanted to say that Savannah Silver told me, but that wouldn’t work for obvious reasons. It was an important part of the plan for Tina Price to think she was talking to Savanah Silver—business as usual—and if she tried to murder me, we’d know who the killer was.

  “Lenny told me,” I lied.

  Tina frowned, two thin lines flickering between her eyebrows. “That’s news to me, but you can take it up with Blake if there’s been a mix-up.”

  There had, in fact, been a mix-up of the most extraordinary kind thanks to a certain murderous shapeshifter, but again, it was best not to mention that in front of a suspect.

  “Is that interview still happening?” Tina asked a man sitting in the corner of the trailer who I hadn’t noticed until now.

  There was Blake, hunched over on one of the stools in front of the mirror, scrolling through his phone.

  He glanced up, clearly distracted by something. The hint of a grim smile appeared on his lips when he saw me. “The interview is happening. I think it’s in bad taste considering what just happened, but the studio wants us to make a statement as soon as possible since the news of Tom’s death is already out.”

  I shuffled over, not completely sure if I was looking at the real Blake, or the shapeshifter. I supposed if this was the shapeshifter disguised as Blake, that would make Tina Price innocent.

  I gave a slight shake of my head as if to clear it.

  This shapeshifter stuff was getting confusing.

  I rolled my shoulders back, doing my best to exude confidence and authority like I imagined an A-list celebrity would. “I won’t be doing the interview,” I said.

  Blake sighed, and wiped a hand over his face. “Listen, I know you’re worried with everything that’s happened, but I’m sorry. You’re doing the interview.”

  “No,” I said, starting to feel a bit desperate. This was not part of the plan. “I’m Savannah Silver, and I refuse to do the interview,” I said, in my bossiest tone.

  “Oh, very authoritative,” Benjamin yipped.

  I pushed Benjamin’s head back into the purse.

  Blake shifted on the stool, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Look, Savannah, I don’t like it any better than you do, but you’re legally obligated to do this TV appearance. If you don’t, you’re in breach of your contract.”

  I swallowed. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place. If I went on the interview, I’d run the risk of blowing my cover and making Savannah look schizophrenic. On the other hand, if I bailed, Savannah could get sued.

  If this was the real Blake, maybe I could convey to him that I was actually me, and he could figure out a way to postpone the interview—but what if this was another trick of the shapeshifter?

  Even so, it sounded like Blake’s hands were tied.

  I took a deep breath, racking my brain for a way out of this. “I have to make a phone call,” I said, heading for the door.

  Tina Price stepped in front of me, her arms crossed. “If I don’t start on your makeup, you’re not going to be ready in time.”

  I sidestepped her and grabbed the latch to open the trailer door. “Really? Because look at this complexion.” I waved my palm in front of my face. “Do you see any wrinkles? Do you see any pimples? No. Savannah Silver has skin as flawless as a mannequin’s. Is it really necessary to improve on this?”

  Tina’s eyes went wide for a moment. Then she burst into laughter. “Wow, I don’t know where all that body confidence came from, but hey, good for you. It’s about time you stopped being so hard on yourself.”

  “I’m hard on myself?” I asked. “What could I possibly be self-conscious about?”

  “That’s a joke, right?” Tina said. “You were just in here yesterday complaining about the size of your pores. You said they looked like asteroid craters.”

  “Right,” I said. “Well, that was yesterday. Today, I think I look great.”

  Tina stepped closer. “Are you feeling ok? There’s something different about you.”

  I could feel Blake’s eyes boring into my back. I was getting really close to blowing this thing. “Just shaken up about Tom’s accident,” I said. “I’ll be right back. I really have to make this phone call.”

  I slipped out of the trailer and heaved a sigh of relief. With shaking fingers, I dialed the number to the satellite phone Savannah had at her cabin.

  “I’m in the bath,” Savannah announced when she answered. “And I’m three glasses of Pinot Grigio in. This had better be important.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, making sure the door to the makeup trailer was closed all the way. “They want me to do an interview,” I said. “You’ve got to get down here. The studio’s saying it’s mandatory.”

  Savannah was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Did you miss the part where I said I had three glasses of wine? I’m drunk, and—news flash—there’s also a murderer on the loose who wants me dead. What if this is all just a way to get me to be on set, around all the crew?” she said. “No, you’re going to have to take one for the team. You were in PR—you’ll be fine. You’re great on camera.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “Because I googled you—duh. I watched some news clips of you online when I found out you and Blake were a thing.”

  “That’s not creepy at all,” I said.

  “I was curious about you.” She laughed. “Like you didn’t do the same when you found out I dated Blake first.”

  “That’s different. You’re a celebrity. It’s normal to google you—you have fan pages all over the internet.”

  “See? You already know all about me. You’ll be fine.”

  “What if they ask something personal?”

  “Just say you won’t talk about it,” Savannah said lightly. “They ask personal questions all the time. It’s what they do. And your job is to be as vague and as politically correct as possible. I think you can handle that. Now don’t call me unless it�
�s something really important.” Then the phone call ended with a click, and I trudged back up the trailer steps.

  “Looks like Savannah Silver does get her way—the real one, that is,” Benjamin crowed from the depths of my purse.

  “Shut up or I’ll have Tina put a bow in your hair,” I said.

  Before I could get my hand on the trailer latch, the door swung open, almost hitting me in the face. Blake stepped out, wearing a stern look on his handsome face. Apparently, this was “business-Blake”. He was the guy who kept his crew members in line and threatened celebrities with veiled threats of lawsuits. This was a far cry from the warm, smiling Blake who held my hand under the stairs and kissed me when I was covered with muffin batter.

  I flatted myself against the rail of the steps, making space for Blake to get through, but Blake simply stood there staring at me.

  “I sorted everything out,” I said. “I’ll be at the interview.”

  Blake’s navy eyes narrowed. “What was the song we danced to in that bar outside of Santa Barbara?” he demanded.

  He’s on to me. I closed my eyes and sighed. Well, that was short-lived. Clearly, I was not the actress Savannah was. “Blake, it’s me.”

  His expression hardened. “Answer the question.”

  I hesitated and his hand latched onto my wrist. Blake thought I was the shapeshifter, and it appeared like he was going to confront me on that right here in the middle of his set.

  “You’re not Savannah,” he said in an eerily quiet tone. “And if you touched a hair on that woman’s head, you’re as good as dead.”

  I blinked. This was not business-Blake or boyfriend-Blake. This was, like, Die-Hard-Blake.

  Benjamin was fighting to get out of my purse. I heard him feebly yipping and whining as he poked his head out the top. He tried to lunge for Blake, but he was too small to reach him.

  “Who are you?” Blake grabbed my shoulders and pushed me up against the trailer door. Muscles tensed in his biceps. Normally I appreciated those biceps, but not right now.

  Now they terrified me.

  “Rhythm of Love,” I blurted out.