Merrick: Harlequins MC (11 page)

He squinted, trying to see who it was as he moved in toward him. He was about halfway to the generator when he recognized Blake just before he bent and picked something up.

“Found it!” Blake called, holding the weapon up, his face breaking into a smile as he saw Merrick approaching. “Found the gun!” he called again as he began walking toward Blake, the small pistol pointed at the ground.

“You shouldn’t have picked it up,” Merrick said as he and Blake stopped. “Do you remember exactly where you found it?”

“Yeah.” Blake turned and walked back the way he came, stopping beside the growling generator. “Right here, by the tire.”

Merrick turned and looked back toward the crew and prop car. The direction seemed right for the sound of the shot, and the rear window being shot out made a lot more sense from this position. “The cops are on the way. Put the weapon back just as you found it.”

Blake nodded and put the gun down.

Merrick turned and walked back to where his men were gathered. They needed to tell them to let Charlie go and get someone to watch the gun so nobody picked it up again.

***

“I was standing over there, out of the way, watching Poppy and Paul work, when I heard this shot,” Blake explained. “I looked to where I thought I heard the shot, and I saw this guy with a gun. I shouted at him and he turned to run. I ran after him, but he had too much of a head start. I saw him get into a white Ford pickup and drive away. I couldn’t get the plate.”

“Did you see what the man looked like?” the cop asked.

“No. He was too far away. Big guy, dark hair, wearing sunglasses. Long pants, uh, light-colored short sleeve shirt. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Show me where you found the gun.”

“Right this way. I’m sorry to say I wasn’t thinking and picked up the gun, but I put it back just as I found it,” Blake explained as he led the cop to the gun and the Harlequin who had been stationed there.

Merrick watched Blake lead the officer toward the generator. Taylor had called a stop to filming for the day, and Blake had been telling everyone who would listen the story of him trying to chase down the mysterious gunman. Nothing about this sat well with him. None of his men had seen a big guy with sunglasses anywhere around, and they couldn’t explain how he’d gotten inside the parameter. Besides, what kind of gunman carries a .22 revolver? There was something very off about this entire thing.

“Thank you,” Poppy said, causing Merrick to turn. Poppy and Paul were standing there. They both had been shaken up after he’d driven them to the ground, but they seemed to have their wits about them again.

“Yes, thank you, Merrick,” Paul said, extending his hand.

Merrick shook it. “I’m glad it was just the car window that got shot. You two okay?”

“Yes, thanks to you,” Paul said as Poppy gave him a smile and looked down.

“Just doing my job,” Merrick with a grin.

“And doing a damn good job of it, too,” Paul said. “If that dipstick Taylor decides to fire you again, you come see me before you leave. He and I will have a frank exchange of ideas.”

Merrick chuckled. “Okay, I’ll do that.”

Paul stuck out his had again and Merrick took it. “See that you do.”

“Cut!” Will barked. They were trying to finish the scenes they didn’t get yesterday when shooting was interrupted by the gunshot, but Poppy was off her game.

“I’m sorry!” Poppy cried, her face twisting as she pressed her fists to her head. She prided herself on not blowing her lines and marks, but she was fucking everything up this morning.

“Take ten, everyone,” Will said. “Poppy, come here. Are you okay?” he asked as she stopped in front of him.

“Yes. I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.”

Will gave her a fatherly smile. “Other than someone took a shot at you yesterday?”

She smiled and looked at her feet. “Yeah, other than that.”

“Relax, okay? Merrick has a couple of guys on patrol. You’re safe.”

“I know. It’s not that. It’s…”

“What?” he asked when she hesitated.

“I don’t know. I just can’t focus. I see something out of the corner of my eye and I just have to look at it. I nearly shit myself when that light stand fell over. I’m trying, but I’ve never had anyone try to hurt me before. It’s all I can think about.”

Will sighed. He could sympathize with Poppy. Everyone had been shaken up by what had happened the previous day, but Poppy seemed to be taking it harder than most. Maybe it was because she was the target.

“Can we break for lunch?” Poppy asked. “Maybe if I can get a little time…”

Will glanced at his watch. It was only eleven, but they’d spent the entire morning watching Poppy miss her marks and blow her lines. Maybe a breather was just what she needed. “Patricia, let everyone know we’re breaking early for lunch.”

***

“May I sit down?” Merrick asked, standing at Poppy’s table with a tray.

“Sure,” Poppy replied. “Thank you, again, for what you did yesterday.”

“It was nothing,” he replied as he pulled the chair out and sat down. Poppy slid around to make a little more room under the shade of the umbrella, and Merrick nodded in thanks as he bumped his chair around to get more shade.

“No, it was very much something. You covered me with your own body. I always thought that was some stereotypical crap, but you really did it. Why?”

Merrick shrugged as he ripped the chicken meat from the bone. He chewed a moment then swallowed. “Didn’t think about it. Just did it.”

“But why… after the way I treated you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know that being a bitch is worth getting killed over,” he said before tearing off another bite of chicken.

She stared at him a moment. “You don’t care what you say, do you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Yet you just called me a bitch.”

He grinned. “And what have you called me?”

She smiled in return and looked at her plate. “Worse. But not to your face.”

“Why not, if it’s what you really believe?”

“Do you think I’m a bitch?”

“Your first impression hasn’t been good, no. Are you?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t mean to be.”

“Then why do you act like you do?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, not really. But you’re the one who said you didn’t think you were a bitch. So why do you act like one?”

She stared at him for a long moment. “You’re an interesting man.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” he pointed out. Her lips twisted into a smile, and it was a very nice smile.

“No, I suppose I didn’t. I can’t answer your question because I don’t know.”

“Don’t know or won’t say?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” she said after a pause. “Is it always this hot here?”

He snickered, allowing her to change the subject. “This isn’t hot. You should be here in July and August.”

She snorted. “I don’t know how you stand it. I’m dying.”

“Air conditioning and sweat. You get used to it after a while.”

“Why did you sit down here?”

“The seat was available.”

“Is that the only reason? There are lots of other seats.”

“You looked like you could use someone to talk to.”

“I did?”

“It looked like it to me.”

“And you volunteered?”

Merrick looked around. “Nope. No gun to my head.”

“That’s not very funny.”

He shrugged as he began to work his way through the second chicken leg. “What’s wrong? You’ve screwed up more this morning than all the times I’ve watched you before, combined.”

“Once again I ask you, why do you care?”

He dropped the leg and wiped his fingers. “I don’t, but you looked like you needed a friend. I can tell you believe in what you do and you’re scared and frustrated. I thought if you wanted to talk…” he shrugged again and picked up the leg. “I’ve got thick skin.”

She smiled at him. Merrick was surprisingly perceptive, and he must have thick skin if he was still willing to talk to her. “Thanks.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For caring. For giving me a second chance.”

“So what’s bugging you? I can promise you what happened yesterday won’t happen again.”

“How?”

“How can I promise? Because I’m not buying the whole gunman thing.”

“You think Blake is lying?”

Merrick thought about it. He did, but he couldn’t figure out why and wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Not lying, exactly. Let’s just say I’m not sure he saw what he thought he saw. Maybe the reason the guy got away was because he never left and was crew member or something.”

“He said he saw him get into a truck and drive away.”

“He also said the guy was a long way away. Maybe it wasn’t the same guy.”

“Why do you think Blake is lying?”

Merrick sighed. “Because what he said he saw doesn’t make sense.”

“Why?”

“How’d the guy get in?”

“Maybe he slipped through your line.”

“No. That didn’t happen.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know my men. It didn’t happen. Even if he had somehow managed to slip past the barricade without being seen, somebody would have seen him walking toward the crew. The crowds are almost a block back. We would have picked him up before he got close…unless he was wearing a pass. If he was wearing a pass, then he works on the crew.”

“Maybe it was fake, like the last time.”

“Nuh-uh. We check every pass. If we don’t recognize you, we compare the name to a list. The only way that would work is if he had the name of a crewmember on the pass, and the person he was impersonating didn’t show up. Nobody was missing yesterday, was there?”

“No, but not every person is on first unit every day.”

“The list is divided into those who are supposed to be here that day, then everyone else on the shoot. It’s not impossible he faked a pass, but it’s not very likely either. But there’s more.”

She smiled and propped her elbows on the table, becoming interested. Merrick wasn’t some stupid thug like she first thought. “What?”

“The gun was from the set.”

“Really?” She hadn’t heard that.

“Yeah. Pete said it hadn’t been checked out, so somebody went into the weapons locker while his back was turned. If someone was coming to kill you, why didn’t he bring his own gun? More than that, a .22? That makes
no
sense.”

“Why?”

“Because, while a .22 can
kill you, it’s not exactly the weapon of choice for assassins.”

She looked at him a moment. “You’ve obviously given this some thought.”

“Yeah. The best I can come up with is someone didn’t actually want to kill you, but only scare you. They used the .22 because it’s only a little louder than the prop pistols you were using. I’m guessing they were planning on putting the gun back and nobody would be the wiser, but for some reason, and this is where it gets murky, they dropped the weapon. Maybe because they were afraid they would get caught with it.”

“And you suspect Blake?”

Merrick paused. “I don’t know. His actions don’t make any sense. Why was he standing out in the sun instead of over here under the shade with everyone else? And why lie about the man?”

Poppy shrugged. “He’s always wandering away. He goes off and exercises, or talks to the fans, whatever. That part doesn’t surprise me, but why he lied about the man? That I can’t guess. You’re sure?”

“Positive? No, but pretty sure.”

“Maybe he’s trying to take advantage of the situation.”

“What do you mean?”

She sat back in her chair and looked at him for a moment. “His career has hit the skids. His last two movies have been flops. Chasing after a gunman on a movie shoot makes for a good story. Maybe he’s hoping it will help revive his career.”

“I thought
Smokejumpers
made a lot of money.”

“Oh, it did. But his next two? Not so much.”

“Why’s that?”

Poppy shrugged. “Who can say? I think his acting is a little wooden, but that’s okay for an action hero type character.
Smokejumpers
was a low budget movie that hit big. His next two movies had big budgets, but they lost money. It happens.” She grinned. “If a studio actually knew what was going to be a big hit, that’s all they’d make.”

Merrick thought it over. “You think Blake would take a shot at you to try to revive his career?”

“No! Absolutely not! But do I think he would stretch the truth a little to get his name in the trades?” She bobbed her head side-to-side quickly as she made a comic face. “Maybe.”

He thought about it and remembered Blake talking about trying to create some buzz around him and Poppy having a shomance, as he called it. “I don’t understand the movie industry at all.”

“That’s because your livelihood doesn’t depend on you being popular enough that people will spend money just to see you. Actually, not even see you, but see pictures of you. As P.T. Barnum said, ‘There’s no such thing as bad publicity.’”

“I’ve heard that saying, but I didn’t know who said it.”

“Yeah. Oscar Wilde said ‘The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.’ That’s certainly true in the entertainment industry.”

“Are you in on the whole shomance thing he has going?”

“No. What shomance?”

“Blake told me his agent was trying to create some buzz about you two having a shomance. I assume that means falling in love, or pretending to, while doing a movie together.”

Poppy stared at him a moment, then her eyes narrowed. “No. This is the first I’ve heard of it, the shit. Thank you for telling me. That explains a couple of things.”