Deception on the Set (10 page)

“It's too late,” I said, staring myself in the face. I inched closer. “The cops are here now. There's nowhere to run.”

The other me let me take a few steps closer before he shook the catwalk again. This time I was ready for him. I held tightly to two cables. Seeing that I couldn't be shaken free, he jumped up and down.

“I've fallen from higher places than this,” said the other me. “How about you?”

PANG!

A support cable snapped.

PANG-PANG!

Then two more. I leaned back as one whipped past my face.

This time both feet came off the catwalk as it tipped to the side. My hands ached as I held tight to the cables.

CRACK!

The catwalk snapped and fell away.

T
HE OTHER ME WAS CORNERED
. No matter where he ran, the exits were covered by a Frank, a Joe, and another Frank. Each of us moved closer and closer, boxing him in toward the center of the airplane hangar. It must have really freaked him out, because the fake me finally backed against the armored car and slumped to the ground. The police sirens grew louder. He knew he was whipped.

“You think this is weird,” I said, stepping closer to the crook. “Check this out.” I removed my mask, revealing my own face. I pointed to Hector (wearing a Joe mask). “See? Just like that handsome devil over there.”

CRASH!

A chair burst through one of the plate-glass windows
above. The chair and bits of glass clattered to the floor. Then I saw Frank jump through the window and onto a thin catwalk.

“Frank?!” I cried.

Another Frank followed him out. They were so high that I couldn't make out which was the real Frank and which was the fake. The two shimmied across the thin walkway.

With our attention diverted, the fake me scrambled to his feet and took off running. I tore after him as he headed for the nearest exit. Luckily, the airplane hangar was huge, so he wasn't getting away that easily. Add that to the fact that I'm a decent runner and I was able to slowly close the gap between us. Then, just when we were ten feet from the door, I leaped forward. I tackled him around the waist and we flew through the open doorway. We tumbled across the asphalt, coming to a stop in the beams of police car headlights. The perp moaned as he lay crumpled on the ground. Pain blasted from my right knee as I slowly got to my feet.

“Frank!” came Eric's voice from inside.

I left the crumpled crook on the ground and limped back to the hangar door. I felt like I had been punched in the gut when I took in the scene above me. Cables snapped off the catwalk, and the thin walkway began to bow. Both Franks held on for dear life.

I half ran, half limped toward them, but it was too late. Amanda screamed as Frank lost his grip and fell away from the catwalk.

“Frank!” I screamed. I forgot the pain in my knee and sprinted faster.

Frank's arms and legs flailed as he dropped from above. His body slammed into the top of the armored truck with enough force to make the heavy vehicle jostle on its shocks. His body lay on the roof with one arm dangling over the side.

“Frank!” I shouted as I ran up to the truck. I climbed onto the running board and grabbed the roof. I pulled my head up to see my brother's face staring back at me. Only it wasn't really my brother's face.

It was just a mask.

“Hey,” said a voice from above.

My head snapped up and I saw Frank—the real Frank—holding tightly to what was left of the catwalk.

“A little help here?” he said with a weak smile.

Hector and Eric ran toward the stairs just as Bayport's finest filed into the hangar. I watched as our friends helped Frank climb back through the office window. When the three marched down the steps, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“How did I guess that an anonymous tip would lead me right to Frank and Joe Hardy?” asked Chief Olaf.

I shrugged. “You're just that good of a detective, Chief.”

“Right.” The chief eyed me suspiciously. “Okay, boys.” He looked around the hangar. “You care to tell me just what went on here tonight?”

Frank and I explained how we had staked out the hangar, figuring it was the most logical place for the saboteurs to strike next. We then explained how the crooks used masks pulled from our life casts to hide their identities during the crimes.

“You can ask makeup artist Meredith Banks,” I said. “She'll tell you how they did it.”

“That's why Trevino identified you,” the chief said to Frank. Then he pointed to the mask in Amanda's hand. “And you had these masks made up . . . why?”

“To fight fire with fire,” Frank explained.

“Plus, it totally confused them,” I added. “They didn't know which of us was their partner in crime.”

While we were speaking, an ambulance arrived and paramedics pushed a ladder against the top of the armored truck. One of them used scissors to carefully cut away the Frank mask. The face underneath belonged to Cody Langstrom, the movie's former stunt coordinator, now unconscious.

Frank went on to explain how he'd led Cody upstairs to confront him. Cody had fled onto the catwalk, and when Frank had followed, the stuntman tried to knock him off. Eric, Amanda, and Hector had seen the entire thing.

“The guy outside is Chase Wilkes,” said Olaf. “Do you know him?”

“We met him once,” I said. “He was one of the stunt performers.”

“So why did these guys want to sabotage the movie?” asked Eric.

“We have our suspicions,” replied Frank. “But you'll have to ask Josh Biehn to be sure.”

Hector glanced at his watch. “Who should be here any minute. When the crooks arrived, I sent Hugo a text to get him here ASAP.”

Before the director arrived, the paramedics looked us over. Frank had some friction burns on his palms from the cables. I just had some scrapes and bruises from my chase with Chase. I was icing my knee with a cold pack when Josh and Mr. Kavner entered the hangar.

“What's going on here?” asked Mr. Kavner. “Josh got a text saying our set was being destroyed.”

I looked at Frank and cringed. “I didn't think Hugo would say that,” I whispered.

“The Hardys unmasked the culprits, as it were,” Chief Olaf said, and glanced at his notepad. “Chase Wilkes and Cody Langstrom.”

“Cody?” asked Josh.

Olaf gestured to us. “The boys think you would know why he did it.”

Josh looked at us and nodded.

“We saw his name on the early script's title page,” Frank offered. “He co-wrote the movie with you, didn't he?”

The director sucked in a breath. “Yes. Well, the original script. A long time ago.” He rubbed the back of his
neck. “We thought up the story more than ten years ago. We worked on it a little, but Cody lost interest along the way, while I kept at it, doing rewrite after rewrite. I finally secured the funding, set everything up. I made it happen. But by that time it was a different movie entirely. Cody still wanted credit, even after I did all the work. I guess I thought I'd made him happy by appointing him the stunt coordinator, but I was wrong.”

Chief Olaf cut us loose while he took statements from Josh and Mr. Kavner. Everyone was kind enough to keep my slow pace as I limped out to Frank's car. Once there, Frank turned to the others and held out his hand.

“Okay, you guys,” he muttered. “Hand them over.”

Amanda grinned. “Hand what over?”

“You know what,” I said. “The masks. This town is only big enough for two Hardy brothers.”

Hector shook his head. “No way, man. This is gonna be my Halloween costume this year.” He put on his Frank mask.

“Hey,” said Frank.

Eric put on his Frank mask. “This is my new Facebook profile pic, yo.”

“Great idea,” said Amanda. She put on her Joe mask and placed her hands on her hips. “Besides, I think this is a good look for me.”

I held up a hand, blocking my view of her. “Okay, now you're just creeping me out.”

“Yeah,” Frank agreed. “My brother's head on a girl's body is just wrong.”

She waved and backed away. Hector and Eric turned and followed.

“Let's go solve a mystery, guys,” Hector yelled.

We watched them (us) climb into Eric's truck and pull away. Amanda hung out the window, blowing us kisses while wearing the
me
mask.

“Okay, I'm going to have nightmares about that,” said Frank. “Seriously.”

I opened the passenger door and climbed in. “Dude, I hate to see what we get blamed for next.”

I
ANGLED THE REARVIEW MIRROR
to make sure my tie was straight.

“Hey,” said Joe as he adjusted his own tie. “I was using that.”

“My car,” I said. “I go first.”

Normally, I wouldn't have been so short, but let's face it, I was nervous. It had been six months since the movie had wrapped, and tonight was its big premiere. Despite all the difficulties, Josh Biehn had decided to have its first showing right here in Bayport. A bunch of crew members were going to be there, and any Bayport citizen who had taken part had received a special invitation to the premiere. Of course, I wasn't nervous to see myself on the silver screen; I was nervous because Chelsea Alexander was going to be there.

Yes, I know. Chelsea didn't turn out to be as perfect in real life as I had hoped she'd be. She had her faults. But hey, who didn't? Besides, how often does anyone get to be friends with a beautiful movie star? Okay, I'll admit it. I still hadn't totally outgrown my ten-year-old crush.

I straightened my tie and spun the mirror back to face Joe.

“Relax, man,” said Joe. “Play it cool.”

“I am playing it cool,” I said.

Joe pointed behind him. “You think that's playing it cool?”

I glanced back at the small bouquet of flowers lying on the backseat. “It's just being polite,” I claimed. “Welcoming her back to our town.”

Joe stared at me with his patented
you're going with that?
look.

I climbed out of the car and opened the back door. I put on my suit coat and grabbed the bouquet. Joe fell into step beside me as we walked across the parking lot.

The theater's lobby was crowded with smartly dressed people. It was great seeing several of the crew members again. We caught up with Meredith and Nick and even said hello to Bob Trevino. All our fellow extras were there, including Amanda, Eric, and Hector.

“I almost wore the mask,” Hector whispered.

“You still have that thing?” I asked.

“I'm saving it for a special occasion,” he replied.

“Are those for me?” Amanda asked, pointing to the flowers.

I put them behind my back. “Uh . . .”

Joe grinned. “You know who they're for.”

Eric looked around. “Chelsea's here? I haven't seen her yet.”

“Me neither,” I agreed. I had been scanning the crowd ever since we got there but hadn't spotted her. I wanted to give her the flowers discreetly, so I kept close watch on the doors.

When it was time for the movie to begin, I hung back while everyone made his or her way to the main theater. Finally, when I was the last one in the lobby, I gave up and headed into the theater.

The place was packed, but Joe had saved me a seat among our other friends. I craned my neck to look around, but I still didn't see Chelsea. Then the audience applauded, and I turned my attention to the screen. Josh Biehn stood in front of it, waving.

When the applause died, Josh gave a small bow and said, “Thank you. And thank you all for coming. As with any motion picture, there were certain challenges to getting this made. Sometimes location can be the biggest challenge of all, but Bayport welcomed us from the beginning, and we cherished every part of our time here. Even if we did have to destroy some of it to make this movie.”

Everyone laughed.

“But seriously,” he continued. “I want to give a special thanks to two people who helped us overcome a particular challenge. And I daresay that without their help, I couldn't
have finished this movie. A big thanks to Joe and Frank Hardy.”

The audience applauded around us. It was a little embarrassing. Well, for me at least. Joe waved to everyone, soaking up all the attention.

Once the applause died down again, Josh continued, “Now, before we watch the film”—he gave a sly grin—“I want to read an e-mail I received on your behalf from the star, Chelsea Alexander.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

I have to admit that even though I was disappointed, part of me was a little relieved. Now I didn't have to worry about how she'd react to the stupid flowers I'd been carrying around all night.

Josh cleared his throat. “Dear Bayport, I'm sorry I couldn't be there on your special night, but I'm in the middle of shooting my next movie and just couldn't break away. I want to thank you for your hospitality. But I want to give a special thanks to one of you in particular: my rehearsal partner and my personal zombie bodyguard . . . Fred Hardy.”

Fred?
Fred
Hardy? Even though the audience applauded politely, I sank into my chair with embarrassment.

“Oh, man,” whispered Joe. “That burns. Sorry, bro.”

Hector reached over and shook my shoulder. “Dude, I know what I'm going to do with my mask,” he said. “I'm going to mail it to Chelsea, so she'll always remember what
Fred
Hardy looks like.”

I nodded. “Good one.”

Josh clasped his hands together. “All right then. On with the show!” He took his seat and the lights dimmed.

As the opening credits rolled, I glanced down at the stupid bouquet of flowers in my hand. What was I thinking? I glanced around. Maybe I could shove them under my seat when no one was looking.