10 A Script for Danger (9 page)

I DROVE TO THE SET
early the next morning, hoping to have a chance to speak to Alex about our suspects. I told George and Bess to come later; I didn't want Alex to feel overwhelmed. My attempts at cornering Kendall the night before had failed. She had darted back to her hotel as soon as the shoot wrapped.

I parked my car and headed to base camp. Alex wasn't in the catering tent, so I decided to check his trailer. When I got to the trailer area, there was nobody around, but I noticed that Zoë's door was ajar.

“Zoë?” I called. No answer. I listened at the door; I could hear movement, but according to the call sheet, Zoë wasn't due on set for another two hours.

I slowly pushed the door open all the way. There was someone inside, but it wasn't Zoë.

It was Kendall—and she was placing something on Zoë's dressing table.

“What are you doing in here, Kendall?”

“Hey, Nancy,” she said calmly, meeting my eyes in the dressing table's mirror. “Lali finally admitted that you're some kind of teen detective after I asked her to kick the ‘journalists' off the set. Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but there's no mystery here.”

She held up the object in her hand—a thick manila envelope with Zoë's name written on it.

“What's that?” I asked, but Kendall just smiled. She handed me the envelope, and I opened it to find . . .

“Contracts?”

Kendall nodded. “
Signed
contracts. I had to be a little sneaky about picking them up yesterday because I don't want Brian to know that I'm signing
Zoë as a new client. He can be a little territorial sometimes.”

So that explains Cora's video,
I thought.

“But the ketchup in your car . . . ,” I began, and Kendall laughed again.

“You
are
a good detective,” she replied, not missing a beat. “I stopped at the store, thinking I could cover up the terrible-tasting hotel food with some decent condiments.”

Kendall backed out of Zoë's trailer and continued her explanation outside. I noticed her luggage waiting nearby.

“Are you leaving?” I asked, coming down the steps to stand next to her.

“Yeah. I have to get back to Los Angeles. My flight leaves in a few hours, but first I wanted to return copies of the contracts to Zoë,” she replied. “Although I'm still worried about what's been happening here—all the pranks and stuff,” she added.

“I'm doing my best to figure out what is going on,” I said.

“Well, you can cross me off the suspect list,” she said jokingly. Then her tone grew serious. “Look, Nancy. I know I didn't say the nicest things about Alex and the film, but working in Hollywood can make you cynical,” she confessed.

“So I've heard,” I offered.

She threw me a wry smile. “But from what I've seen, Alex has the potential to be a solid director.
The Hamilton Inn
could be a great opportunity for the world to see what a talented actor Brian is.”

“Better than
The Blue Ranger
, even?” I asked.

Kendall shook her head sadly. “I'm not sure what he told you, but Brian didn't get that part. He was so close, but the director didn't think he was right for it. And he was completely devastated. At first I thought he took the role in
The Hamilton Inn
just to take his mind off it. But I guess that sometimes things just work out for the best.”

“So he's just telling everyone he turned it down,” I clarified.

Kendall nodded. “It's harmless, really,” she said. “I guess it makes him feel better.”

“I noticed him carrying around a
Blue Ranger
comic book,” I recalled.

Kendall paused. “Well,
The Blue Ranger
is scheduled to start shooting in four weeks. I've heard rumors that the actor they cast as the lead is having second thoughts, but it doesn't matter. For Brian,
The Blue Ranger
door is closed. That's why it's better for him to be here, focusing on what's happening next instead of feeling bad about the past.”

Nobody would ever know that Brian is feeling bad,
I thought.
He must be acting
all the time
!

“I should get going,” Kendall said. “It was nice to meet you, Nancy. Keep an eye on my clients, will you?”

“I'll try,” I replied.

George and Bess arrived not too long after she left.

“Well, I for one am glad to know that Brian's agent isn't trying to ruin his movie,” Bess said after I'd filled them in. “Aren't you, Nancy?”

“Of course,” I replied, “but that means that our suspect is still at large.”

“Speaking of which, I'm dying to know where Sal
went last night,” George remarked. I'd told them about my terse exchange with Sal on our drive home.

“You and me both,” I said.

Since it was our second day shooting at the Hamilton Inn location, it took the crew less time to prepare for the first shot. All the trailers had remained in the clearing overnight (with ample around-the-clock security), and the inn itself was already dressed and decorated.

“What are they filming today?” George asked, examining my call sheet. “Ooh!” Her eyes lit up. “The haunted house scenes! Lots of creaks and ghosts!”

“That would explain the smoke machine,” I replied, pointing at the dense fog pouring out of a window. It made the surrounding woods seem especially eerie.

I finally spotted Alex darting around, talking animatedly to the production designer, the costume designer, and the cinematographer. Even though I desperately wanted to go over our latest findings, I was happy to see him in his element.

“When Alex worked for my dad,” I recalled, “he
loved
talking about his favorite ghost stories. I can see why he's so excited today.”

“Excited . . . and stressed,” Lali said, coming up behind us. “He knows you want to talk to him, but he just has no time this morning.”

“Okay. Well, in the meantime, did you find out anything about Ronan Beale?” I asked.

“Oh, yes! I forgot to respond to your text message last night. Ronan's agent is no longer representing him, and apparently he's changed his cell phone number. She has no idea how to reach him.”

“You don't change your cell phone number unless you're trying to avoid someone,” George said.

“Lali, when was the last time Alex and Ronan were in touch?” I asked.

Lali shrugged. “I don't think they've been in contact since Ronan dropped the lawsuit, but I could be wrong.”

“What made Ronan drop the lawsuit?”

“I've told you all I know, Nancy,” Lali said.

“I really need face time with Alex so I can ask him
about this . . . for the article, of course,” I quickly added as I noticed Spencer walking by. He and two other electricians positioned heavy cables along the ground and covered them with leaves. The cables ran into the woods, where they powered a pair of lights so heavy it took three people to lift each one. As soon as Spencer saw the powerful lights flare to life, he doubled back to speak with Lali.

“I need to talk to you about security again,” he complained. “I'm still missing my wire cutters, and now my needle-nose pliers are gone, as well as some spools of wire. These are small tools, but they add up.”

“All right,” she said calmly, “walk with me. Nancy, we'll talk later, okay?”

I nodded, left with no choice but to swallow my questions for now. Investigating a film shoot certainly presented a whole new level of challenges I wasn't used to.

Soon after Lali left, Cora appeared, camera in hand. She had a grin on her face instead of her usual apathetic expression.

“Alex can't yell at me for being in the way this time!” she announced. “I borrowed a zoom lens from a friend! See?” She excitedly showed us her new toy. “It's like spy equipment. I can get close-ups without having to be right on set! I'm going to use it to catch that evil snob Kendall in the act!”

I shook my head. “Kendall left,” I told Cora, “and there was no ‘act' to catch her in.” I relayed the information about Zoë and the contracts.

“Lame,” Cora grumbled, her smile fading. “So who are you looking at now?”

“Looking at?”

“Oh, come
on
, Nancy.” Cora rolled her eyes. “My brother used to talk about your mysteries all the time. I know you're not writing an article. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone.”

Bess, George, and I exchanged glances. It was true—going undercover, especially in a small town like River Heights, was never quite as seamless as I wanted it to be.

“Like I told Bess yesterday, you guys can look at my
footage whenever you want,” Cora offered, “for clues or whatever.”

“What made you change your mind?” I asked.

“My brother and I don't get along sometimes,” Cora admitted, “and it's become worse over the years. But when I showed Bess my footage yesterday, I realized that I'm genuinely excited for him. The last thing I'd want is for someone to ruin his movie.”

“That's great, Cora!” Bess exclaimed, giving her new friend's shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

I had to hand it to Bess for getting through to Cora. Her confession seemed sincere; she even let George peer through her new zoom lens.

“I can see Sal's nose hairs from here!” George cried.

“George! Eww!” Bess shrieked.

Even as I watched my friends bond with Cora, I was hesitant about crossing her off the suspect list. Her opinion of Alex had reversed far too quickly. What if she was just pretending to be nice in order to find out how much we actually knew?

Cora wasn't the only one with renewed energy that
morning. Brian arrived in his workout clothes and decided to go for a “quick jog” up and down the stairs of the inn.

“Wow, what is in those green shakes?” George commented as Brian leaped up two, then three stairs at a time.

“I read that Brian ran track and field in high school
and
college,” Bess boasted. The word “college” triggered a lightbulb in my head.

“Didn't Lali say that Ronan Beale was Alex's college buddy?” I asked.

Bess nodded. “I think so. Why?”

“I think I know how to find him,” I said. “Excuse me.”

I found a quiet spot and called Ned. He answered on the first ring.

“I need you to find out about a guy named Ronan Beale who graduated from River Heights University five years ago.”

“Good morning to you, too, Nance,” came his sleepy reply.

“Hi, Ned. Sorry for waking you. It's just that—”

“Nancy, you don't have to explain.” I could hear him getting out of bed. “You think the guy who's messing with Alex's movie went to RHU?”

“Yes. All I know is that he lives in L.A., but then I remembered that all RHU students and alumni have access to the directory,” I replied. As preoccupied as I was, it was nice to hear Ned's voice.

“Okay, I'm logging into the network. Yep, here we go. Ronan Beale.”

Suddenly Ned's voice became quiet. “Wait a second. . . .”

“What, Ned?”

“It doesn't look like Ronan Beale lives in Los Angeles anymore. All that's here is a forwarding address. . . .”

“Great! Where?”

“It's in River Heights.”

By the time I finished my phone call, the atmosphere on set had become noticeably tense. Alex couldn't seem to get the ghost to be as scary as he had hoped, there
were issues with maintaining focus throughout the shot, and the entire crew had to huddle in the woods to remain out of frame.

I quickly updated Bess and George on Ned's important discovery.

“Are you
serious
?” Bess gasped.

I nodded. “Well, he is from here. The forwarding address turned out to be his parents' house. I left a message with his mother, saying that I wanted to interview Ronan as part of an article about RHU alumni working in the film business. We'll see if he calls back.”

“This is crazy,” Bess said. “What are the odds of Ronan being in River Heights right now? He has to be related to the pranks somehow!”

“You girls look way too stressed out!” Brian exclaimed, popping up right in front of us. He had finished with the stairs and was now jogging in laps around the woods. “What's got you down?”

“The ghosts are getting to be a little too realistic for us,” I said glumly. Brian stopped to catch his breath and mop his forehead.

“Aren't you tired, Brian?” Bess asked. Apparently she had worked her way up to speaking to him in full sentences.

“Of course, but that's the point. Dylan is supposed to look worn out and frightened in this scene. What do you think?” He messed around, doing a silly
I've just seen my mother's ghost!
reaction, throwing his hands in the air and flailing wildly.