Kristy and the Vampires

by Ann M. Martin

  “Well, we are looking for extras,” said the assistant. “But I think we’re looking mostly for younger kids — boys — at this point. Tell you what,” he went on, “I’ll take your name, and if we find out we need you, we’ll give you a call.”

  The girl sounded pathetically grateful. “Oh, thank you, thank you,” she said.

  By that time, I was sick of craning my neck to try to see Derek. I got up and moved to another chair before I could hear the girl give her name. From my new seat, I could watch Derek closely and, as usual, I was incredibly impressed with his talent. The scene they were doing was really just one shot — of Derek’s face as the vampire grabs him. But it was awesome to see Derek standing there listening to Harry’s instructions, looking like a regular kid, and then watch how he could create an expression on his face within the next minute, an expression that summed up everything his character would be feeling upon being grabbed by a vampire. Watching Derek was really teaching me something about the art of acting.

  When he finished, he came over to sit by me and watch the stunt. “Cheryl is so cool,” he said admiringly. I agreed. She did look like a total professional. “I can’t believe Harry wouldn’t let me do this one,” said Derek. “If that glass hadn’t broken yesterday, I’d be the one getting clipped onto those wires. I was supposed to be doing this stunt myself.”

  “It’s safer this way,” I said, as we watched Cheryl and the other stuntperson being hoisted slowly up to the rafters. “I mean, what if something went wrong?”

  Cheryl was about ten feet above us when suddenly there was a snapping noise. As we watched, horrified, one of the cables whipped around, the wires came loose, and Cheryl fell to the floor with a loud crash.

  “Oh, no!” I shouted.

  Derek jumped up and ran onto the set, along with me and Harry and a crowd of other people. “Are you all right?” he asked Cheryl.

  She sat up and felt herself for broken bones. “I’m fine,” she said slowly. “Just a little bruised.”

  “Get this equipment checked out!” Harry shouted to the crew. “I don’t want to see any more accidents on this set, is that clear?”

  People scurried about, checking wires and helping Cheryl out of her harness.

  “Take five, everybody,” said Harry in a weary voice. “We’ll finish this shot after lunch.”

  Derek and I headed for the caterer’s truck. I could tell he was a little shaken, and I felt the same way. “Why was it Cheryl’s harness that broke?” he asked. “It’s like it was supposed to happen to me.”

  “I’m sure it was just a coincidence,” I said. But to be honest, I wasn’t sure at all. In fact, I was beginning to suspect that somebody was serious about hurting Derek. I just didn’t want Derek to get upset, not when he had more scenes to film that day.

  Later on, when filming had started again, I hunted down Charlie. “Have you heard anything about the accident?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “Somebody said they thought the cable might have been tampered with,” he said. “But there’s no way to be sure.”

  I nodded. That was exactly what I had suspected. Cheryl’s “accident” was no accident. But as terrible and scary as it was, it wasn’t the worst thing that happened that day.

  Later that afternoon, after the flying scene had been shot without any further incidents, Derek was in the midst of a scene with the red-haired actress. At one point, when there was a break in the action, he ran over to me. “Kristy!” he said. “Can you go to my dressing room and get my breath mints? They’re in a little cabinet next to the door. I ate some onions on my hamburger at lunchtime, and I have a feeling my breath really stinks.”

  “Sure, Derek,” I said. I headed for his dressing room, which was in a trailer behind the caterer’s truck. The trailer was divided into three rooms, just like the makeup trailer, and Derek’s was in the middle. I pushed the door open and looked for the cabinet he had mentioned. But something else caught my eye first.

  It was an envelope, addressed to Derek, propped up on the counter beneath the mirror. Now, ordinarly I would never open somebody else’s mail, but in this case, something told me that I should. I picked it up and felt its weight, trying to decide if I really should open it. Then I took a deep breath and ripped it open.

  I gasped. There was a heavy white card inside, with writing all over it. And the writing looked like it had been done in blood! Deep red scrawls covered the card, and red drips ran down from each word. “Scared yet?” the message said. “You should be. Get off this set — and stay off!” It was signed with a big red question mark.

  I stuck the card and the envelope in my pocket, grabbed Derek’s mints from his cabinet and hurried back to the set, thinking hard the whole time. Later that day, when Derek was finished with his scenes, I headed home and phoned Mrs. Masters. I told her about the note, and she thanked me for my concern. “I’ll let Derek’s agent know about it,” she said. “This type of thing happens sometimes on movie sets, and he’ll know what to do.” She seemed a little worried, but not too upset.

  After I finished that call, I made a few more calls — to every member of the BSC. “I’m calling an emergency meeting,” I said to each of them. “Be at Claud’s at seven!” It was time for the BSC to deal with the mystery on the set.

  “The thing is,” I said, “there’s no question in my mind anymore that somebody is out to get Derek.”

  My BSC friends and I were all settled into our regular places in Claudia’s room, but this was no regular meeting. And, looking around the room, I could see that everyone else was just as concerned as I was about the trouble on the set of Little Vampires. Mary Anne was sitting on Claud’s bed, between Claudia and Stacey. All three of them were listening intently. Shannon sat at the foot of the bed, taking notes in a small notebook. Jessi and Mal were on the floor, looking up at me with worried expressions. And Logan was leaning against Claud’s desk, his arms folded and a concerned look on his face. (He never seems too comfortable at meetings — I guess because he’s the only boy — and he always looks as though he might bolt out of the room at any minute.)

  It was quarter after seven, and I had spent the past fifteen minutes filling everyone in on the latest developments. Of course, they had heard plenty from me before that night about what it was like to be on the set every day, but I had never given them all the details about the string of “accidents.” Claud had seen one of them for herself, but she was shocked to hear about what had happened since then.

  She passed a pack of Starbursts to Jessi and Mal. “Have some of these,” she said. “I just lost my appetite.”

  “I think you’re right, Kristy,” said Shannon, looking serious. She checked over her notes. “The incident with the breakaway glass could have been a freak accident, and Cheryl’s fall, too. But that note? That’s definitely no accident.”

  Mal gave a shiver. “Did it really look like it was written in blood?” she asked. “That is so gross.”

  “Gross, and scary, too,” said Stacey. “Who would do a thing like that?”

  “That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question,” I said.

  “What?” everybody asked at once.

  I blushed. “Oh, that’s just something Watson says. I think it’s from some old quiz show. Anyway, all I meant was that who did it is exactly what we have to figure out. Otherwise, how can we stop them?”

  “And they have to be stopped soon,” said Logan. “Or else Derek could really get hurt.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “And protecting Derek has to be our first priority. We can’t count on his agent to help, since he’s not even on the set.”

  “So now that we have a real mystery on our hands, how do we solve it?” asked Mary Anne.

  Claud leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Well, if I were Nancy Drew,” she said, “I’d suggest drawing up a list of possible suspects.”

  “Just what I was thinking,” said Shannon. She held up her notebook. “And I’ve already started. Number one, I think, ha
s to be that self-centered blond guy. The star who’s so worried about Derek getting more attention. What’s his name? Carter?”

  “Carson,” I said. “But I think Frank Bottoms, his manager, is a more likely suspect. He’d probably love to see Derek quit the movie.”

  “I’ll write them both down,” said Shannon.

  “Good,” said Claudia. “It never pays to eliminate suspects too early in the game.”

  “What about the guy who does — did — the props?” asked Stacey. “I mean, he’s been fired, and he might be blaming Derek. Plus, he’s probably mad at the producer, and he might be out for revenge. If he pulls enough tricks, the movie might have to be canceled.” She nibbled at the apple she’d brought.

  “Good!” said Shannon, scribbling madly in her notebook. “What’s the propmaster’s name again, Kristy?”

  “Zeke Hill,” I said.

  “But hasn’t he left town by now?” asked Jessi.

  “According to what Charlie’s heard, no,” I said. “Apparently he’s holed up in a local motel, hoping Harry will convince Cliff Chase to re-hire him.”

  “Okay,” said Shannon, noting down Zeke’s name. “I guess we’ll have to try to track him down. Next?”

  “I can’t think of anybody else,” said Mary Anne. “Or, rather, it seems like almost anybody could be a suspect. I mean, maybe it’s not only Carson who’s jealous of the attention Derek’s attracting. One of the other actors might be out to get him.”

  “Yeah,” said Logan. “Or maybe it’s one of Zeke Hill’s assistants, acting out of loyalty to his boss.”

  “For that matter, it could even be Cliff Chase,” said Stacey, “although I don’t know why he’d want to sabotage his own movie.”

  “He could have his reasons,” said Mal darkly. “You never know.”

  “That’s the problem,” I said. “You never know. But if we try to keep track of every single person on that set, we’ll go nuts. Plus, it’ll take forever. I bet there are at least sixty people involved in making that movie.”

  “You’re right,” said Claudia. She seemed to have regained her appetite, since she was munching on a Kit Kat. “I think what we need to do is narrow the field down to a few likely suspects, and keep a close eye on them. We won’t eliminate any suspects, though. Then, if nothing pans out with the first people, we can start thinking about the others.” She took a huge bite of Kit Kat and smiled a chocolate-y smile. “That’s what Nancy would do,” she added.

  “I can think of one possible suspect you guys haven’t even mentioned,” said Shannon.

  “Really?” I asked. “Who?” I was sure we had thought of everybody.

  “That P.R. lady,” said Shannon. “The one you said is always so dressed up.”

  “Sheila Mayberry?” I asked. “Why on earth do you think she might be a suspect?”

  “Think about it,” said Shannon. “Didn’t she tell you that her job depends on this movie earning big ratings? And didn’t she say there’s no such thing as bad publicity?”

  “Wow!” said Mal. “You mean you think she might actually be creating these incidents, just so she can write stories about them and send them to the papers?”

  Shannon nodded. “I know it sounds crazy, but face it, whoever is doing these things probably is a little crazy, right?”

  “You might be onto something there,” I said slowly. Sheila Mayberry still seemed like a totally unlikely suspect, with her matching outfits and fancy high heels, but what Shannon was saying did make a certain kind of sense. Absently, I picked up the pack of Starbursts and found a yellow one. I popped it into my mouth. “Sheila Mayberry, huh? Well, you better add her name to your list.” I had to admire Shannon’s deductive reasoning. She’s so smart, and not just in school. She’s just a plain old good thinker.

  “I already did,” admitted Shannon. We all laughed.

  Then Logan turned serious again. “One thing we haven’t really discussed,” he said, “is whether this person really is out to get Derek, or if they are just creating random accidents and Derek’s been unlucky enough to be involved in a few of them.”

  “You mean, this person just wants to mess up the movie, and doesn’t really care who he’s hurting?” Jessi asked.

  Logan nodded. “After all, the stuntwoman — Cheryl? — was the one who took that fall. Maybe it’s just a coincidence that she was doing Derek’s stunt.”

  “But what about that letter?” I asked. I was going to have a hard time forgetting those bloody-looking words. That note had really given me a scare.

  “You know what I think?” said Stacey. “I think even if Logan is right, it doesn’t really matter. The fact is, if somebody’s out to hurt people — any people on that set — Derek is in danger. And we have to make sure he’s safe.”

  “Definitely,” I said, feeling that protective urge again. “I, for one, will be keeping a very close eye on him.”

  “I think the rest of us should try to spend more time on the set, too,” said Mary Anne. “If more of us are there, and if we’re all keeping our eyes open, we may come across some clues.”

  “I’ll be there for the next few days,” said Claudia. “Todd has a bunch of scenes coming up.”

  “Maybe the rest of us can go down there with kids we’re sitting for,” said Stacey.

  “As long as you’re not sitting for Claire,” Mal said. “She still refuses to go anywhere near that set!”

  I had forgotten all about the Claire problem. I’d been too swept up in the mystery on the set. I resolved again to work on helping her overcome her fears, but I knew curing Claire’s vampire-phobia would have to wait until I was sure Derek was going to be okay. For now, Derek’s safety would be my first priority. And it was good to know that my friends would be looking out for him, too.

  “It’s almost like that movie set has a curse on it,” said Charlotte, as she waved her bubble wand. She watched the bubbles float off toward an apple tree. “I keep seeing articles in the paper about all the accidents happening there. I’m worried about Derek.”

  “I’ve seen those articles, too,” said Becca. “And everybody in town is talking about what’s going on. Do you really think there’s a curse?” She blew a stream of bubbles that followed Charlotte’s.

  “Oh, come on, you guys,” said Shannon, who was sitting nearby on the grass. “There are no such things as curses. There are more rational ways to explain the accidents that have been happening.”

  Shannon was over at Charlotte Johanssen’s house for a sitting job, and Charlotte had invited her best friend Becca — Jessi’s little sister — over for the afternoon. They’re both eight, and they have lots in common. Both of them are on the shy, quiet side and both of them love to read.

  It was a hot, still day, perfect for blowing bubbles. Somehow, though, Shannon had a feeling the bubbles wouldn’t keep the girls occupied for long.

  Sure enough, about five minutes later Charlotte put down her bubble wand. “I’m bored,” she said.

  “Me, too,” said Becca, blowing one last bubble.

  “Besides,” said Charlotte, with a grin, “I don’t know what we’re doing blowing bubbles when there’s a mystery to be solved.”

  Shannon smiled. She knows Charlotte loves to play detective. In fact, Charlotte has helped the BSC solve a couple of mysteries in the past. Shannon had figured it was only a matter of time before Charlotte went to work on this case, too.

  “Yeah,” said Becca. “Isn’t there something we can do? If Derek’s in trouble, I want to help.”

  “Hmmm,” said Shannon. She was thinking about the threatening note I’d found. That hadn’t been reported to the paper. Shannon wondered for a minute whether it would be safe to involve the girls. “I don’t know,” she said slowly.

  “Oh, please, Shannon?”

  “Please?”

  Shannon looked at the two pleading faces and made up her mind. After all, the accidents had all happened to cast or crew members. It was unlikely that the girls would be targeted.
“Okay!” she said.

  Both girls jumped up. “All right!” said Becca.

  “Yesss!” shouted Charlotte. “So what do we do?”

  “I have exactly the right job for us,” said Shannon. “We’ll tail the suspects.”

  “I’m good at that,” said Charlotte. “I’ve done it lots of times. It’s easy.”

  “Well, it may not be so easy this time,” said Shannon. “There are a lot of suspects.”

  “Let’s make a list,” said Becca. “Isn’t that what you have to do first?”

  “Actually, I already have one,” said Shannon, pulling her notebook out of her backpack. She showed the girls the list she had made during our emergency meeting.

  “Carson Fraser?” asked Charlotte. “He’s on the list? I thought he was a big star!”

  “He is,” said Shannon. “But he may be jealous because Derek’s getting so much attention.”

  “And who’s Frank Bottoms?” asked Becca.

  “He’s Carson’s manager,” Shannon explained, “and he’s very protective of his client.” She ran her finger down the list and explained who Zeke Hill was, and how he wasn’t actually on the set anymore. Then she told the girls about Sheila Mayberry. “She’s my number one suspect,” Shannon said. “I definitely intend to keep an eye on her. I’m not exactly sure what she looks like, but judging from what Kristy says, we won’t have any trouble spotting her. Her clothes really set her apart.”

  “Great,” said Charlotte absently. She was staring at the list and biting her lower lip, thinking hard. A second later, she stood up, a determined look in her eyes. “I think the first thing we should do is go check out the motels on the edge of town. There are only three of them — it won’t be hard to find Zeke Hill. And we can ride our bikes there.” She pointed to the three bikes in the driveway: Shannon and Becca had both ridden over.