Soft Focus (19 page)

“You're not doing him any favors. He'll never learn how to handle his business affairs if you keep bailing him out.”

She brushed past him. “Like I said, it's not your problem.”

He followed her back into the house, closed the door, and stood in front of it as though he would block the exit if she tried to make a run for it.

“I didn't know you were engaged to Garth Galloway,” he said.

She opened the refrigerator. “Would it have made any difference?”

There was a long silence behind her. She finally glanced at him.

“Your brother-in-law asked me the same question.”

She raised one brow. “Well?”

He did not reply.

“Didn't think so,” she said.

She walked behind the granite counter and opened the refrigerator. “What do you say we have a sandwich? We never did get to eat lunch today.”

“Elizabeth, I didn't even know you when the Galloway deal went down.”

“No, but you knew there were a lot of innocent people who were going to get hurt.”

His jaw tightened. “It happens in business. You know that.”

She looked out the window as she took some feta cheese out of the refrigerator. There was some yellow in the trees on the hillsides, she noticed. The aspens were starting to turn color. In a short while they would ignite the mountains in a blaze of gold.

“Damn it, Elizabeth—”

“Speaking of business,” she said, picking up a knife, “why don't we talk about ours? It certainly beats raking up old history. Tell me, what do you think Leonard Ledger meant when he told you that he did not want to make certain people mad?”

“I don't know.” Jack abandoned his guard post in front of the door and came to stand on the other side of the counter. He picked up his unfinished coffee. “That's one of the questions I want him to answer tonight. Elizabeth, about your brother-in-law—”

“I'm sorry he hit you this afternoon.” She rinsed off the tomato under running water. “It's not like him at all. He's really a gentle man. He must have been extremely upset. Are you okay?”

Jack hesitated. She held her breath.

But Jack must have realized that he was fighting a losing skirmish. He was too good a strategist not to know when to retreat.

“Don't worry, I'm not going to sue,” he said.

“That's a relief.” She smiled very brightly. “I'm not sure the Aurora Fund's insurance would cover that kind of lawsuit. You might bankrupt us.”

Jack watched her over the rim of his cup. “Wouldn't want to do that.”

“Of course not.” She started to slice a plump, red tomato. “The Fund wouldn't be of much use to you or Merrick if it got wiped out in a lawsuit, would it?”

Jack was silent for a long moment.

“No,” he said eventually. “It wouldn't.”

Elizabeth saw the drop of blood before she felt the sting. “Damn.”

“What happened?”

“Nicked my finger with the knife.”

He set down his cup and walked around the end of the counter. He turned on the faucet and grasped her wrist.

“I read about a situation like this once,” he said, holding her injured finger under the cold running water.

“What kind of situation?”

“You know, princess pricks finger. Drop of blood appears. She falls under a spell. Gets awakened by a kiss from a frog.”

“A frog? Not a prince?”

“Don't you know anything about fairy tales?” Jack turned off the faucet. “The frog doesn't turn into a prince until after she kisses him back.”

“WHAT D'YA MEAN, HE DIED OF NATURAL
causes? You murdered the guy, Verna. You shot him down in cold blood.”

“If you knew Joey the way I knew Joey, you'd know that getting himself murdered was the most natural thing in the world that coulda happened to him. Besides, it beat the alternative.”

“Yeah? What was the alternative?”

“I could a married him. But my better nature prevailed.”

“Better nature?”

“I don't believe in torture. Not even for guys like Joey.”

The black-and-white images faded to black on the screen and the credits for
Natural Causes
began to roll. Leonard Ledger's name appeared as director. A smattering of applause broke out in the crowded theater.

Elizabeth leaned toward Jack, who was sitting next to her in the balcony. “It looked like the whole movie was shot in a
kitchen. I could swear that section of the tunnel wall where Joey gets it was a refrigerator door.”

“Got to give Ledger credit for being able to work within a limited budget,” Jack said as the lights came up.

Elizabeth's eye was caught briefly by an elegantly gilded figure that projected outward from a stately column. The Silver Empire Theater was a beautifully restored Victorian treasure. According to the brochure she had read, it had originally been built as an opera house. No expense had been spared. It was adorned with red velvet seats, crimson curtains, chandeliers, and elaborate giltwork.

It had been constructed in the late eighteen hundreds when silver and gold had flowed in bright, shiny rivers out of the Colorado mountains. Newly rich miners had competed to show off their wealth and hastily acquired culture by investing in such emblems of civilization as opera houses, theaters, and spas. Privately, Elizabeth thought that the grand Silver Empire looked a little odd here in the middle of a town that had once been a mining camp and was now a ski resort, but she had to admit that the theater did have a certain charm.

Jack appeared to be oblivious to his ornate surroundings. He shifted forward in his seat and rested both arms on the balcony railing. She realized that he was studying the crowd streaming out of the seats below, a hunter waiting for prey to break cover. He was searching for Ledger's face. It had been his idea to try to locate the filmmaker at the screening of
Natural Causes
and follow him back to his room at the Mirror Springs Resort. His inability to get Ledger on the phone had made Jack increasingly restless all evening.

She was just as eager to find out what Ledger had to say, Elizabeth thought. But for the past two hours, she had been aware of a gathering sense of deep unease that she could not
explain away. It was Jack's fault, she told herself. The dark anticipation in him was indeed affecting her nerves.

She was starting to wonder exactly what he would do if he did find Tyler Page. How could he force the other man to turn over Soft Focus? Threats? Violence? Jack could be intimidating when he chose. He would be quite capable of scaring Dr. Page to death.

“It's eleven o'clock,” she reminded him quietly. “Only another half hour to go. It doesn't matter if you don't see Ledger here. We'll catch up with him soon enough.”

“I don't like the way he's set this up.” Jack continued to scrutinize the crowd down below. “A little too melodramatic for my taste.”

“He's a filmmaker who makes movies in his kitchen. What do you expect?” Elizabeth got to her feet and collected her coat. “Come on, let's go. By the time we get the car, drive to the resort, park, and find his room, it will be eleven-thirty.”

“You're right.” Jack did not take his eyes off the crowd below as he stood. “Let's get out of here.”

They joined the tide of people on the red-carpeted staircase that led down to the lobby. Elizabeth caught a fleeting glimpse of Vicky Bellamy and Dawson Holland, but neither appeared to notice her or Jack.

A number of filmgoers milled around outside on the sidewalk, waiting for the midnight performance of another festival entry, a low-budget picture titled
Truth Kills.
Snatches of film-speak floated in the air.

“. . . like, total mastery of the language of film, man, you know?”

“. . . The guy's a master with a camera, especially handheld work. Can frame a perfect shot on the fly.”

“. . . got a fabulous script, but so far, no backers . . .”

“. . . completely misinterpreted the symbolism of the gutter scene . . .”

The theater crowd thinned quickly just beyond the brilliant marquee lights. But as she and Jack walked through the parking lot Elizabeth saw another oasis of bright light and a small cluster of people gathered around it. An air of concentrated activity surrounded the scene.

“They're making a film over there,” Elizabeth said. “Must be one of the groups in the contest.”

“They'd better not have blocked the exit with their equipment,” Jack replied, barely looking up. “I'm not going to miss that meeting with Ledger just because somebody has decided to shoot a movie in the parking lot.”

Elizabeth studied the scene more closely. “The exit is clear. They're working in the space next to it. Must be a murder mystery. See, there's a body on the ground.”

“Every film we've seen since we got here has had a dead body in it.” Jack dug his keys out of his pocket. “Murder seems to be a staple of the genre.”

“Of course it is. Haven't you learned anything this week? Noir is all about the dark underbelly of modern life. It's a reflection of urban decadence and moral ambiguity. It came so naturally to American filmmakers in the forties that they didn't even realize they were creating a genre. The French had to come up with the name for it.”

“Don't start.” Jack opened the car door and bundled her inside. “I am not in the mood for another lecture on film noir.”

“I can tell.”

Jack closed the door, walked around the car, and got behind the wheel. He pulled out of the parking space with smooth, economical skill and pointed the vehicle toward the exit.

Elizabeth lowered her window to watch the filmmaking
going on at the far end of the lot. There was a figure sprawled on the pavement. Two actors dressed in black masks stood over the “body.” One held a length of metal pipe. The other grasped an extremely realistic-looking pistol. A man with a handheld camera hovered over the scene. A woman fussed with what appeared to be sound equipment.

“Okay, people,” a paunchy man in a billed cap shouted. “Let's do it again. This time I want the beating to go on a little longer before Calvin pulls the trigger. This is the guy who supposedly double-crossed his partner and slept with his wife, remember? We're talking revenge here. Let me feel it.”

Jack drove out onto the street. Elizabeth sat back and raised the window.

“Kind of chilly out here to be making movies,” she observed.

“From what I can tell, these independent film people don't let anything get in the way of making movies.”

Elizabeth thought about that. “There's something rather endearing about artists who are so passionate about their art.”

“You call that art?”

She smiled. “Given that you are about to sign on as a producer for something called
Dark Moon Rising,
I would think that you'd take a more open-minded approach to the subject.”

“I've seen enough here this week to know that filmmaking is a business, not an art.”

“Hah. I'll bet you'll take an entirely different attitude when you see your own name in the credits.”

“I doubt it, but tell me, Elizabeth, will you attend the premiere of my film with me?”

For some reason the invitation caught her off guard. Probably because it implied a future for the two of them, she thought. She hadn't realized that Jack had been thinking that far ahead. She certainly had been trying to avoid the subject.

She cleared her throat. “It, uh, generally takes quite a while to make a film and get it screened. Even a little independent film. Leonard probably won't get his movie premiered until the next neo noir festival. That's a whole year from now.”

“Right.” Jack slowed for the turn into the Mirror Springs Resort parking lot. “So is it a date?”

He was serious, she thought. He was talking about a date next year. As if he expected them to still be involved in a relationship twelve months from now. She noticed that she was breathing shallowly, the way she did when she was tense or anxious. Or scared. Or excited.

“We'll see,” she said quietly.

He parked the car in a slot and ripped the keys out of the ignition with sharp, controlled motion. “I love it when you're so decisive.”

“Okay, okay, it's a date.” Exasperated, she yanked hard on the door handle. “If you actually do produce a film, I'll attend the premiere with you.”

“Be nice to me,” he said in a voice that was heavily shaded with wicked innuendo, “and maybe I'll let you have a walk-on.”

“Does this offer involve a casting couch?”

His eyes gleamed. “It sure does.”

“Let's go see Ledger.” She opened her car door quickly and leaped out.

Jack climbed out from behind the wheel and joined her. Together they walked toward the lights of the resort lobby. A young man in a red shirt, black bow tie, and black trousers opened the door.

The lobby was nearly deserted except for the front-desk staff. Jack did not stop to use the house phone to call Ledger. He headed straight for the elevators. She had to quicken her pace to keep up with him.

He said nothing as they rode the elevator to the third floor and stepped out into the hushed corridor. Elizabeth could feel his anticipation. Adrenaline was flowing through her veins, too, but the sensation made her deeply uneasy. She should have been excited about the prospect of getting a lead on Tyler Page, she thought. Instead, she was aware of a gathering sense of dread.

“Do you think he's found Page for us?” she asked as they went down the hall to room 305.

“He'd better have something useful. Ledger won't get a dime out of me if I find out he's wasted my time with some vague story about having seen Page around town.”

They came to a halt in front of room 305. Elizabeth heard the faint sound of a television set emanating from inside. Jack raised his hand to knock.

Elizabeth glanced down and saw the card key sticking out of the slot. “Jack, wait.”

He followed her gaze and frowned when he saw the key. “Why in hell would he leave it in the door?”

“It happens sometimes.” Elizabeth swallowed. “If a person has other things on his mind, he might forget about the key in the lock.”

“Huh.” Jack knocked three times, very quietly, very deliberately.

There was no response.

Elizabeth felt the unease twist more tightly in the pit of her stomach. “I don't like this.”

“No kidding.” Jack slid the key in and out of the slot in a single, smooth motion, unlocking the door. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

He opened the door and pushed it inward. The only light came from the flickering images on the television screen. Elizabeth braced herself, although she did not know what
she was tensing against. She tried not to think of all the films she had seen in which the hero and heroine keep a midnight appointment only to discover that the person they were going to meet had been murdered moments before they arrived.

The television set was louder now. A video. She recognized the dialogue immediately. Leonard Ledger's
Natural Causes
.

“. . . I trusted you, Verna.”

“Big mistake. I'm attracted to men with brains. I could never fall for a guy who was dumb enough to trust me.”

It was obvious from where she stood that the room was empty. Elizabeth breathed a small sigh of relief. Then she glanced at the bathroom door. It stood ajar. The interior of the smaller room was dark.

Jack flipped the switch on the wall. “Ledger? Are you here?”

The only response came from the television set. Elizabeth stared at the bathroom door. Jack met her eyes. Then he took a step forward, reached around the edge of the doorjamb, and turned on the light inside the small room. He eased the door inward, revealing the tub, commode, and basin.

Empty. Elizabeth exhaled deeply.

“What's the matter?” Jack gave her a humorless smile. “Expecting a body in the tub?”

“Weren't you?”

“The possibility crossed my mind. We've obviously seen one too many movies in the past few days.” He opened a nearby closet. There were no clothes hanging inside. No body, either.

Elizabeth took a closer look inside the bath. There were some wet towels on the floor but none of the usual male travel accoutrements. No razor, toothpaste, or condoms.

She walked farther into the main room and watched Jack open a drawer beside the bed.