The Girl from Summer Hill (34 page)

Devlin was sitting in a plastic chair on the concrete walkway of the sleazy motel and watching the girl Lori do laps in the pool. Running away with her had seemed like such a good idea. He'd been full of thoughts of caviar and champagne on a private jet. Not that he even liked the salty fish eggs—disgusting flavor!—but the thought that he'd soon have anything he wanted had been wonderful.

When the PI told him that the girl was Kit Montgomery's illegitimate granddaughter, Devlin had gone into a frenzy of happiness. All his dreams were going to come true! There'd be no more struggle in his life, no more taking on acting roles that were beneath him, no more people like Tate Landers putting him down.

All he had to do was get the girl to agree to leave with him, and that had been easy. She was astonishingly naïve and dying for some independence. Her parents were out of the country, as her father was some kind of diplomat. Devlin grimaced at that. Wealth could buy excellent jobs! Lori had been turned over to her rich grandmother for the summer to be safeguarded.

Devlin thought how pampered kids today were. When he was eighteen he'd been supporting himself and his mother for years. But this kid still lived at home, was still supervised by adults.

Putting his hand up to shield his eyes against the sun, he watched the girl walk to the low diving board. She looked good in her bikini, but she acted like a child. Before they left, he'd asked her three times if she really was eighteen and she'd said yes. She didn't have a driver's license, but she said she'd get her passport to prove it. When she forgot to pack it, Devlin had been quite annoyed and had told her so. But when she started to cry, he backed off. Until they were actually married, he didn't want to turn her off.

He'd envisioned a chauffeured limo arriving to pick them up. There would, of course, be a dramatic scene. But Devlin could handle drama. He and Lori would hold hands and swear that they couldn't bear to be parted. With triumph, Devlin would show the marriage certificate.

But so far, nothing had gone as he'd planned. The missing ID didn't allow them to marry, so he'd decided to win her in other ways. Until she was fully his, he couldn't risk taking her back to get her passport. That grandmother of hers was much too possessive!

The first night he'd climbed into bed with her, but she'd curled up with cramps and told him in detail about how heavy her “flow” was. It was enough to turn off any man!

That was three nights ago, and he was running out of cash. He didn't dare use his credit cards, since the bills went to Landers. Devlin had been sure Kit Montgomery would use his government connections to find them, but where was he?

Devlin leaned back in the chair and let himself imagine the press coverage of him and the Montgomery heiress as they told the swarming, pushing, excited paparazzi of their great love for each other. He'd become known as more romantic than Tate Landers!

But nothing was happening.
Nothing!
Devlin had the radio on all the time, but there was no news about him. Even local TV hadn't mentioned him. They'd told of the play and how Landers was going to be there, but there was nothing about Devlin. Typical!

And problems were beginning. This morning the girl said she was ready to go home, that she missed her grandmother.

The possible failure of his great plan sent rage coursing through him. Ungrateful brat! Who did she think she was to lead him on like this? He'd had to spend hours listening to her whine about her easy life in her grandmother's big house, and now she
owed
him!

She must have seen the look in his eyes, because she immediately changed her tune. She started talking very fast, saying she was dying to tell all her Facebook friends about her great adventure and how wonderful Devlin was.

He didn't like doing it, but he'd had to be rather firm in telling her that she was to contact no one. He'd already taken away her phone and her computer. And after he found her trying to use the landline in the room in the middle of the night, he'd cut the cord on it. He'd even had to make her stand outside the bathroom door while he was in the shower so he could hear her. She'd become quite untrustworthy!

Scowling, Devlin watched her dive into the pool. She was good at it, which meant she'd probably had a personal coach since she was a kid.

A tall teenage boy slipped into the pool and called out something to her. She started toward him, but then she looked at Devlin, her eyes asking if she had his permission.

When he gave a quick shake of his head, she turned away from the boy. Devlin gave a bit of a smile. At least he'd taught her something! That was better than he'd done with Nina. But then, his ex always went running to her brother, and Landers went against what was morally right and interfered between a man and his wife.

Devlin watched Lori go back to her endless laps across the pool. This time things would be different. Never again would he allow a bully like Tate Landers to intimidate him. This time he'd stand his ground and demand his rights. He'd—

He broke off because he heard his ex-wife's voice on the radio. What now? he thought. Was Landers using Devlin's family to promote himself and his two-bit play? Did the man have no pride at all? If he used Emmie, could Devlin sue?

He turned up the volume. “You're out of your mind!” Nina was saying. “There's no way my ex-husband could beat Tate at anything. Certainly not at
acting
!”

Devlin's eyes widened. The boy in the pool was circling Lori like a shark. Devlin motioned for her to get out and follow him back to their room. He couldn't listen to his first wife's lies while working to keep his almost-second wife from fornicating.

“What do you say to that?” the DJ asked.

“I don't mean to contradict you, Nina, and you know Tate Landers is my best friend, but…” It was Jack Worth's voice.

Devlin unlocked the door of the motel room and gave a curt wave to Lori to get inside. He didn't have time to do a hearts-and-flowers gesture. He locked the door behind her, then moved into the shade and listened.

“But what?” Nina demanded.

“I want to be fair. Maybe Devlin and you didn't get along, but he is an excellent actor.”

“Ha!” Nina said. “After his performance on
Death Point,
he doesn't deserve your false flattery.”

“False flattery?” the DJ said. “Jack, do you agree about—”

“Now, just a minute!” Jack's voice was the growl he used in his movies just before he shot half a dozen men. “There's nothing false about Devlin Haines's acting. There was a scene in
Death Point
when Rachael Wells's character died that nearly put me in tears. I don't know why he didn't get an Emmy for that. He certainly deserved it!”

“In that case, Tate should have been given an Oscar.”

Jack gave a little laugh. “Come on, Nina, let's be honest. It doesn't take any real talent to give hot looks to pretty girls. That's not exactly Oscar material. And when Tate was on
Death Point,
he didn't outshine Devlin. Tell me, aren't you at all worried what the New York critics are going to say about the performances tomorrow night? They might like Devlin better. Then what will you say?”

The DJ cut in. “Folks, they are talking about the first performance of
Pride and Prejudice,
which is to be at the Summer Hill Playhouse tomorrow at eight
P.M
. That show is sold out, but we've been told that three huge screens are being set up outside and everyone is welcome. Outside is free, but they ask for donations, all of which will go to charity. Bring chairs or blankets and a picnic—and your wallet!”

“
If
it will be held.” Nina's voice was ominous.

“What does that mean?” the DJ asked.

“Don't start on this again.” There was anger in Jack's voice. “You're not an actor and you don't know how it works.”

“Am I missing something?” the DJ asked.

“Devlin disappeared,” Nina said. “Ran away is my guess. He always was scared of my big brother.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jack sounded fighting mad. “Through the whole play, Devlin Haines has worked twice as hard as anyone else. He was there from the first day. Tate didn't even arrive until the auditions were nearly over. But Devlin stuck around and helped the young amateurs, like that girl playing Lydia. He practically held her hand through every line. That kid got the credit, but Devlin did the work. All done while Tate was running off with the local cook. He wasn't helping
anyone
!”

“So where is Devlin
now
?” Nina asked.

“Recharging,” Jack shot back. “Gearing up for the play. Doing what he did on his TV show and tapping into his deepest emotions.”

“And, folks, that's—”

Nina cut the DJ off. “I'm the one who
knows
him, and I say that he won't show up for tomorrow's performance. He is much too cowardly to face my brother in a live performance.”

“Ten grand!” Jack said. “I'll donate ten thousand dollars to charity if he shows up. Anybody out there want to take bets on this?”

“Okay!” the DJ said. “That's all we have time for now, but it looks like the, uh—what do we call this?—the Great Acting Challenge is on. If you're out there, Devlin Haines, and you hear this, we hope you show up tomorrow night so Jack Worth will have to donate ten grand to charity.”

“Make it fifty,” Jack snapped.

“Whoa,” the DJ said. “You heard it here first. The great Jack Worth is donating fifty
thousand
dollars to charity if Devlin Haines, star of the former hit TV show
Death Point,
shows up to perform in the play tomorrow night. And now I'm going to play a little music that Jane Austen herself might have heard.”

The DJ turned off his mic and looked from Nina to Jack. “You two aren't going to fight, are you? I mean, I wasn't expecting to start a feud. I just—”

“It's fine,” Nina said as she stood up. She was smiling. “You were great. Jack?”

“Yeah, terrific.” He was grinning. He got up, went to Nina, and put his arm around her shoulders. “You deserve an award for that.”

“I did okay?”

“Haines couldn't have done better.”

Nina laughed. They waved at the DJ, then left the building.

In the car, she put her hands over her face. “I didn't like saying those things. And I got genuinely angry when you were so against Tate. I'm afraid his feelings will be hurt.”

“After what the critics said about his last movie, he can stand anything. So where to now?”

“We have to escalate this thing,” Nina said. “I'm meeting Gizzy at the printer's to get the posters, and you're to go with Josh to a lumberyard. He needs to start building the bleachers. Tate's got a crew flying in to put up the screens.”

Jack took Nina's hand and squeezed it. He hated to see her so nervous, so frightened. “You did really well on the radio, and this is going to work.”

“I hope so. Pray so. It all depends on whether Devlin hears about it or not.” She looked at Jack. “Do you think that poor child will be all right?”

“Yes,” Jack said. “I do. Haines isn't given to physical violence. Come on, let's go.” He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Neither of them mentioned what was on their minds—the sexual aspect of it all.

Tate stepped into the tiny dressing room and closed the door behind him. Casey was sitting before the makeup table and staring at the lighted mirror. She glanced up at him. “Anything?”

“Not so far,” he said. When Casey looked like she might start crying, he picked up a chair, set it by her, then turned her around to face him. He took the brush out of her hand and began applying the pink rouge to her cheeks. “It takes practice to put on makeup so the audience can see you but you don't look like a clown. There. Now you're perfect.”

“What if Devlin doesn't show up? What if something has happened to Lori? What if—”

Tate put his lips to hers to cut her off. “Haines will be here. He loves drama. He'll think if he appears at the last minute to save the play from my ineptitude, he's the hero.”

Casey put her forehead against his shoulder. They were both in costume, ready to go onstage in a few minutes. Even though the room they were in was under the stage, they could hear the people outside. The stage manager had told Casey that the theater was packed, every seat filled, and the aisles were lined with people. “And outside!” she said. “You wouldn't believe the number of people who are sitting on the grass and waiting for the screens to light up. Hundreds of them! The front lawns of all the houses for five miles have been turned into parking lots. But nobody in Summer Hill cares, because everyone is
here
.”

In normal circumstances, Casey would have been a nervous wreck about appearing in a play. When it came to food, she was confident in her abilities. But not in acting. Nina had told her that three well-known critics had flown in, one from New York and two from L.A. “Those people have never been kind to Tate,” Nina said, “so I doubt if they'll be any different over this.”

But Casey's concern about her performance in a local play had been eclipsed by her worry about Devlin and young Lori. She'd spent the last two days running around with Nina and Gizzy, doing all they could to promote the Great Acting Challenge. Tate had flown his publicist in, and she'd managed to get some national media attention. Casey had been so busy that she'd barely made it to the theater by six-thirty to start getting ready to go onstage.

She looked back at Tate. “How is everyone?”

“Your dad gave Estelle a tranquilizer and she's resting. Kit and Olivia are concentrating on the play. I don't think they've really talked about the past.”

“What about Kit's son?” She'd met Rowan yesterday and she'd immediately understood why Stacy had said he was “too serious.” That was an understatement. The young man was as businesslike as a machine. He quietly told everyone what they were to do—and they obeyed.

“I'd hate to play poker with that guy,” Tate said. “I can't tell what he's thinking, and he never tells us what he's doing. He's on the phone a lot, but—” Tate broke off because he could see that he was upsetting Casey more. He put his hand on her chin. “Haines will be here. He couldn't possibly turn down an opportunity to show me up.”

“And when he arrives, he'll be put in handcuffs.”

“No,” Tate said. “That's not the deal.”

“But he kidnapped a fifteen-year-old child!”

Tate took her hands in his. “Rowan and I worked this out. If Haines appears, he'll be allowed to perform. There are about twenty federal agents in the audience, some of them FBI and some retired friends of Kit. There's no way Haines can escape. And besides, we don't think he has any idea of the enormity of what he's done.”

“The play must go on, that sort of thing?”

“It's more that the charities must be helped. You've seen Josh as an actor. He can't remember half his lines. If he plays Wickham, we worry that people will demand their money back. That won't help your mother's clinic.”

His joke didn't make her smile. She was looking into his eyes. “This isn't about money, is it? This is your doing. Did you ask Rowan to hold off on the arrests so Devlin can have one last performance before his life falls apart?”

For a second, Tate looked surprised, then he laughed. “Caught. How did you figure it out?”

“I'm beginning to know you. How difficult was it to persuade him?”

Tate stood up. “It was hell! Rowan Montgomery is made out of steel, unbreakable. He wanted to slap Haines into chains the second he appeared. But damn! I couldn't do it. He's Emmie's father.”

“And a man who has made your life hell, who blames you for every bad thing he's caused.”

“If I retaliate in kind, it makes me no better than he is.”

“And that belief of yours is one of the reasons why I love you,” Casey said, then gasped. “I mean…I should…”

Tate pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “It's okay. I've fallen hard for you too. I think I knew I loved you when you trusted me to hold you while you were hanging down the side of a roof. That you'd risk so much to help a child told me everything about you.”

He kissed her long and lingeringly.

The dressing-room door swung open and hit Tate in the back. “Ten minutes,” the stage manager yelled. She glanced around Tate to Casey. “Remember that you're supposed to hate him.”

“I do,” Casey said. “I'm only interested in his body.”

“I can understand that!”

With a groan, Tate pushed the door closed. “You two make me feel like a piece of meat.”

“Now you're trying to turn me on. Go! I have to repair my lipstick. If Devlin shows up, let me know.”

Tate kept kissing her while he backed up, talking between each one. “Does this mean you'll go to L.A. with me? Live with me? Go with me to those publicity things I have to attend? Make pies for me?”

“Yes to everything.” She had her hand on his chest and was pushing him out the door. She paused. “Do you like me or my cooking better?”

Tate halted on the way to her lips. “I'll have to think about that.” He went forward with another kiss, but Casey drew away.

“Get out of here! And don't take your shirt off for anyone but me.”

He was backing down the hall. “What do you think Hollywood is going to say when I have a girlfriend who is a mere cook? The headline will be
H
E
C
OULD
H
AVE
D
ONE
B
ETTER
.”

Casey looked at him in horror.

“Maybe you could take night classes and become a lawyer. That's what Clooney got.” He turned away and went down the hall to his own dressing room.

Shocked, Casey stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Of all the vain, egotistical— When it hit her what he'd done, she shook her head. He had put her in the mood of Elizabeth Bennet meeting a man she thought was too full of himself.

Casey went to the table, picked up the big powder puff, and stared at herself in the mirror. She had on a lot of makeup, her hair was piled up on her head, and her dress was cut lower than her nightgown. “I am Elizabeth Bennet,” she whispered, “and I think Fitzwilliam Darcy is a snob.”

She stood up, took a deep breath, and left the room.