by Witt, L. A.
As the dusty old Jeep bounced and bumped down the dirt road, Carter wasn’t sure what to expect. Where Levi lived, what kind of house it was. There’d been rumors flying around for the last year or two that Levi had bankrupted himself and was just getting by out here in Bluewater Bay. Some people said he’d sold off two of his three Corvettes to make ends meet—his movie wealth wouldn’t last forever. Others said he and a bottle of tequila had wrapped the third Vette around a tree. Everyone had seen pictures of the wreck, but the booze part had never been confirmed. All Carter knew for sure was this wasn’t the passenger seat of any Corvette. The Jeep was in good repair, but definitely an older model.
Levi might’ve lived in one of the mobile homes they kept passing, the ones clustered between run-down gas stations and cheap motels, or in a mossy trailer tucked behind the trees, next to cars on blocks. It was just as possible he had a sprawling farm, or a luxury house overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca.
Carter had no idea. Every time they passed another home, farm, trailer park, or gated driveway out here in the sticks, Levi intrigued him a little more.
The trailer parks and gated driveways faded behind them, and for a good five miles, there was nothing but trees and the odd service road for the Department of Forestry. At a lone mailbox beneath a pair of towering cedars, Levi turned down a gravel driveway, which wound through the woods for almost a mile before the house came into view.
And . . . wow.
The rumors of Levi hiding in a trailer were obviously unfounded. The house was large, though modest by Hollywood standards, and built from reddish-amber cedar with a dark-green trim. Gleaming solar panels made up most of the roof, and Carter guessed those huge south-facing windows on the top two floors must have a spectacular view of Mount Olympus.
Levi pressed a button on the visor, and the left bay door of a three-car garage slowly opened. As the Jeep rolled into the garage, Carter glanced to the side, and a gorgeous black Corvette Stingray caught his eye.
“Wow, nice. I wondered if you still had your Vettes.” He gulped. “I mean, since you were driving the Jeep, I . . .” Fuck. Way to make things awkward.
Levi glanced at him, then past him at his car. “Well, I have that one.”
Carter wanted to ask what happened to the other two, but he bit his lip, not sure if he should press. Especially considering some of the relentless rumors.
Gaze fixed on the Vette, Levi killed the Jeep’s engine. “I sold the silver one. The red one . . .” His eyes lost focus for a moment. “I wrecked it.” He took the keys out of the ignition and finally looked at Carter again. “And no, I was not drunk.”
“I—”
“C’mon. Props are inside.” Levi got out of the Jeep. Carter glanced back at the car, and then followed Levi into the house.
The interior was gorgeous. Bright and open, with enough lighting to compensate for the Northwest’s notorious gray days.
Levi dropped his keys on the granite countertop in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything? Beer? Coke?” His expression was taut, his voice flat as if he was keeping something close to his vest.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” Carter smiled, hoping Levi would do the same. He did, but halfheartedly. Guilt gnawed at Carter. He just had to mention the cars, didn’t he?
Levi cleared his throat. “This way.”
Carter followed him down a hallway lined with nature prints and a framed poster of a sleek Vette. There was also a photo of maybe a dozen guys—he recognized several as cast members from Tin Horse and Broken Day—smiling and posing, and there were signatures all over the mat around the photo.
He didn’t stop to look closer, though, and followed Levi to a set of French doors. As they stopped in front of the room, the dark clouds over Levi’s mood seemed to evaporate. With a grin, he put his hands on the brass handles. “I still have to find a place to put some things, but the good stuff is in here.”
He pushed the doors open and flipped a switch. The room lit up like a museum gallery, dim except for strategically positioned spotlights. The hardwood floor was unoccupied except for a few standing cases, and similar cases were built into the walls all the way around. The spotlights illuminated the various contents, as well as the odd freestanding display—a mannequin wearing battered gladiator regalia, a blood-stained pinstripe suit, and what Carter was pretty sure was the camouflage from the third Eastwick movie.
“Wow.” Carter stepped inside, the hardwood creaking under his sneakers. “I never thought of putting something like this in a house.”
“Neither did I, but the guy who sold me the place did a ton of traveling.” Levi scanned the room like he was seeing it for the first time. “He collected cool stuff from all over the world, and had it on display. I couldn’t think of anything else to put in here, so . . .” He waved a hand at the cases. “Movie props.”
“That . . .” Carter struggled to take in the awesomeness laid out around them. “This is fucking amazing.”
Levi grinned. “Thanks. Oh, and the gun from Tin Horse is right over here.” He led Carter across the room, floorboards squeaking under their feet, and stopped in front of a case against the far wall.
And front and center was the .38 special revolver.
“So that’s the gun, huh?” He leaned down and inspected it as best he could through the glass. “Damn, it looks real.”
“That’s because it is real.”
His head snapped up. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” Levi’s gaze was fixed on the gun, his expression full of nostalgia. “Our budget didn’t allow for a convincing prop, so the director let us use his. We had it modified so it was impossible to shoot, but the cylinder would still turn and the hammer would drop.”
“Damn . . .”
“Yeah. That was probably one of the smarter things we ever did. Unlike, say, having me and Steve jumping out of moving cars in Broken Day.”
“No stunt doubles?”
“Not on that budget.”
Carter chuckled. “Guess you couldn’t pull that off with Legos and fireworks, could you?”
“If we could’ve, we would’ve.”
“I have no doubt.” He turned his attention back to the case. “Are those the shell casings from the DVD cover?”
“Yep. Nobody else wanted them, so . . .”
“Nice. And that’s the switchblade from Broken Day, isn’t it?”
“It— How many times have you seen that film?”
Carter’s cheeks burned and he glanced sheepishly at Levi. “Enough times to recognize a few key items.”
“Apparently so.” But he didn’t seem creeped out or anything. Genuinely surprised, but not in a bad way.
Carter turned back to the case. He was about to ask about the pair of leather gloves beside the gun when something bumped his calf. He looked down to see an enormous black-and-brown tabby cat staring up at him with huge green eyes. “Oh, hello.”
The cat made a soft half-purr, half-chirp sound and nudged his leg again. Carter knelt and held out his hand, letting it sniff his fingers. The cat must’ve decided he was okay because it bumped its head against his fingers.
As Carter petted the cat, he marveled at its size. Long hair notwithstanding, the cat was immense—easily twenty pounds or so. “Jesus, what do you feed this thing?”
Levi laughed. “He’s a Maine coon. They tend to get, uh . . .”
“Big?”
“Yeah.” He gestured at the cat. “Anyway, that’s Link.”
“Link?” Carter raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“You’d understand if you’d seen him as a kitten. You see those tufts on his ears?”
Sure enough, Link had long black tufts sticking up from the ends of his ears.
“When he was a kitten, his ears were huge, and those tufts made them seem even bigger. My sister thought he looked like Yoda, but he reminded me more of Link from the Zelda games.”
“Gotcha.” He glanced past Levi at a second cat who was sitting in the
doorway, peering at all of them as though their sheer existence bored it. Same color as Link, but slightly smaller. Slightly. “That must be Zelda, then.”
Levi turned around. “Yep, that’s her.” He squatted and snapped his fingers. “Come here and be social.”
Instantly, the aloof cat came to life and trotted across the floor, paws thumping heavily on the hardwood. She wedged herself between Carter and Link, and eyed Carter with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
“You would push him out of the way,” Levi muttered. He scooped up Link as if the monstrous cat didn’t weigh a thing. “I guess I should’ve asked if you were allergic to cats before I invited you over. I don’t have a lot of visitors, and I forget sometimes—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Carter looked up from scratching Zelda’s chin. “I love cats.”
“So I see.”
Carter laughed as Zelda purred so loudly she almost rattled the artifacts from Levi’s past life in the case above them. Link wasn’t much quieter in Levi’s arms. “They’re a friendly pair, aren’t they?”
“When they want to be.” Levi leaned down and let Link jump to the floor with a heavy thud. “Just watch. Next time they see you, they’ll just sit across the room and glare at you.”
Next time?
Carter tried not to read too much—anything—into that. He scratched behind Zelda’s ears, and then stood. As the cat wove figure eights around his legs, he scanned the rest of the cases in the room. “This really is an impressive collection.”
“Thanks.”
“Thanks for showing it to me.”
Their eyes met, and goddamn, he thought Zelda’s gentle head bumps were going to knock him off his feet. Maybe it was the perfect, art gallery lighting, or maybe it was because he was alone in a room a million miles from nowhere with this man of all people, but the intensity in Levi’s eyes took his breath away. The fact that Levi wasn’t breaking eye contact didn’t help in the slightest.
And just like that, they both turned their heads.
“Anyhow.” Levi gestured at the rest of the cases. “This is the collection. All the crap I’ve stolen from various movie sets.”
Carter laughed. “I can’t blame you for taking a few things.”
“And I didn’t really ‘steal’ most of it. Especially on the indie stuff, I mean, what else were we going to do with it?” He sighed. “I’m glad I kept what I did. Sometimes I think it’s the only evidence left that some of these films were ever made.”
“Which is a fucking travesty.” Carter let his gaze drift to the revolver, the shell casings, the switchblade with the mother-of-pearl handle. “Honestly, even though the movies never did much commercially, I envy you. I would love to be in an indie film. But . . .” He scowled. “Those doors kind of close when you start getting bigger roles. Not that I’m complaining about the bigger roles, or about getting into Wolf’s Landing, but it’d be cool to do something really out there and different, you know?” Why are you rambling?
Levi nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. The minute you do a low-budget indie thing, everyone starts wondering if you’re washed up.”
“Or if they just cast you for name recognition.”
“Exactly.”
“Ah, well.” Carter shrugged. “Even if I can’t be in them, at least I can watch them.”
“True.” Levi met his eyes. “You, uh, want to watch one? Like, now?”
“Hell yeah.”
Levi grinned. “Awesome. Theater’s downstairs.”
“Theater?” Carter raised his eyebrows as he followed Levi out of the room. “You have an actual . . .”
“I like movies.” Levi flicked off the light and waited for the cats to trot out of the room before he pulled the door closed behind them. “Might as well enjoy them as they were meant to be enjoyed, right?”
He wasn’t kidding. The room he’d converted into a theater wasn’t huge, but the screen that took up one wall must’ve been at least eighty inches. The carpet was black, as were the walls, ceiling, and the twin rows of leather couches that were basically three attached La-Z-Boy recliners.
Carter chuckled. “Apparently sitting on the living room sofa and watching a movie just isn’t good enough for you, is it?”
Levi wrinkled his nose. “Not when I can have this, no.”
“I don’t blame you. I’d love to have something like this myself. Maybe someday when I buy a place.”
“You looking at buying soon?”
Carter shook his head. “Nah. I mean, they’re paying me well enough, but part of me keeps thinking the show’s going to get canceled at any moment, and the cash flow will stop.”
Levi grinned. “It’s Wolf’s Landing. I don’t think you have too much to worry about.”
“Which is probably what someone said to the cast of Firefly.”
“Good point.”
“So, I’ll buy something eventually, but for the moment, my rental’s nice enough.”
“Yeah, it looked like a nice place.” Levi pulled open a drawer and withdrew a thick binder of DVDs. “Take your pick. I have a little of everything in here.”
Carter thumbed through the DVDs. Some he’d heard of, some he hadn’t, but he was having a hard time even reading the titles with Levi standing right next to him. He managed to concentrate enough, though, to see the disc for Metallo, an obscure Italian film from the 1960s.
“Holy shit.” He tapped the DVD. “I’ve been dying to see this one.”
“Let’s watch it, then.” Levi’s expression turned deadly serious. “You are okay with subtitles, right?”
“Am I—” Carter arched an eyebrow. “Okay with subtitles? Really?” He huffed and rolled his eyes. “As if any self-respecting film snob would settle for a dubbed version.”
Levi grinned. “You’re a film snob after my own heart.”
Oh, if you only knew . . .
Chapter 7
After two and a half hours of subtitles, Levi’s eyes were getting a little tired. That didn’t usually happen to him. It wasn’t even that late—though this room had no windows, it was still far too early in the day for the all-black walls to fool him into thinking it was nighttime.
Must’ve been lack of sleep last night. And it didn’t help that he’d had to struggle hard to even concentrate since he had Carter here in his home theater.
Beside him, Carter rubbed his eyes. “Man, that movie was better than I thought it would be.”
“It’s better than I remember it.” Levi stretched, then stood to turn up the lights and retrieve the DVD. “I don’t think I’ve watched it in five or six years.”
“I can see why.” Carter stretched too, groaning as his back cracked and popped. “That film’s intense.”
“The best ones are.”
“Amen. And the best ones always seem to be in other languages too. Present company’s films excluded.”
Levi clicked his tongue. “Kiss ass.”
“Hey, I just don’t want to lose my source of impossible-to-find films.”
“Fair enough, fair enough.” He rubbed his eyes again. “I’d say let’s watch another one, but I don’t think I can handle another set of subtitles today.”
Carter yawned. “You and me both. Don’t know why I’m so tired, but maybe a short one?”
Levi let himself wonder for a moment if Carter was tired for the same reasons he was, but he quickly banished the thought. “Well, if you’re game for something short, and don’t mind something in English, I’ve got a whole other binder full of nothing but film noir.”
“Film—” Carter’s eyes widened. “You’re a noir junkie too?”
“Fuck yes.”
“I’m definitely game to watch one. What do you have?”
“Everything.” Levi reached into the drawer to get his noir binder. “First, though, I’m going to grab a Coke to wake myself up a bit. You want something?”
Carter shrugged. “Sure. A little caffeine would probably do me some good.”
�
�We can look at these upstairs, then.” Levi handed him the binder, and they headed out of the theater, both blinking and wincing as they adjusted to normal lighting. Levi had carefully designed the hallway so that it was dim at the theater end and brighter when it reached the stairs, giving his eyes time to adjust, but he still had to squint a bit.
By the time they were upstairs, though, his eyes had adapted, and the afternoon light pouring in through the windows in front of the kitchen and living room didn’t bother him in the slightest.
Carter didn’t seem to mind either. “That’s one hell of a view.”
Levi gazed out at the blanket of trees and the snow-capped peaks of the Olympics and Mount Olympus. “It was one of the selling points of this place.”
“I believe that. I’d pay for a damned trailer if it had a view like that.”
“Me too.” Levi smirked. “And five minutes later, I’d knock it the fuck down and build something nicer.”
Carter laughed. “Obviously.”
“With a view like— What the hell?” He pulled out his buzzing phone. “Sorry. Got a text.”
The message was from Anna. We still on for tomorrow night?
He swallowed.
“Everything okay?” Carter asked.
“Yeah.” Levi exhaled. “Anna wants to meet up tomorrow. To, uh, discuss the contracts. She said Finn usually handles it, but since we’d probably kill each other . . .”
Carter’s eyebrows jumped. “Are you signing?”
“I don’t know yet.” He quickly sent back I’ll be there, no promises re: contracts. Then he set the phone down and faced Carter again. “Anyway. DVDs.”
“Right.” Carter didn’t push the issue about signing, and while Levi took out some glasses and a two liter of Coke, he spread the DVD binder open on the kitchen island. “Man, you really have everything in here.”
Levi shrugged. “I’m an avid collector. What can I say?”