Wild Action (17 page)

He liked that, and yet it scared the hell out of him. But right this second just
had
to be the time to explain how things really stood with his job and all.

Then Carly eased closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, and that thought got lost in the spin cycle.

I
T WAS ALMOST
eight o’clock, but the sun was nowhere near setting, so after Nick lit the candles on the kitchen table he closed the shutters. Then he let his mind drift back a few hours.

He still wasn’t sure which had surprised him more—Gus’s off-the-wall suggestion that he and Carly should get married or the fact that she hadn’t said the idea was ridiculous.

Of course, she really hadn’t said
anything
—except that she wouldn’t name a baby Gus. And then, after they’d made love again, the issue hadn’t resurfaced. But they had to talk about what was going on between them. About where, if anywhere, it might be leading.

Before they did, though, he just
had
to tell her the truth. He couldn’t put it off any longer, no matter how angry it made her.

He glanced at the table one more time. The candles, a white cloth, the good cutlery and dishes, salad and wine on the table, and his specialty—pepper steaks— under the broiler.

It was the best he could do. He only hoped it was enough to put her in the right frame of mind to see the humor in the situation.

“Now, no smart remarks from you,” he warned
Crackers. “And no begging at the table,” he told the Marx brothers. “I want this dinner to be perfect”

He considered telling the cats to behave themselves, too, but since they never listened to him, he didn’t bother—simply gave the table a final onceover, then headed for the front porch, where Carly was sitting with a glass of iced tea.

“Okay, dinner’s ready,” he said, opening the screen door.

She followed him to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway. “Oh, Nick, this looks so…romantic.”

“Hey, I’m a romantic kind of guy.” He held her chair, then got the steaks out of the oven and the vegetables from the microwave.

Sitting down across from her, he poured the wine and raised his glass. “To Gus. For bringing us together.”

She smiled one of her fabulous smiles. “I’m awfully glad he did. If you hadn’t been here the last little while, I don’t know how I’d have survived.”

“Well…helping out is as much to my benefit as yours.”

“No, Nick, it isn’t
nearly
as much. We both know that.”

He told himself this was the moment to bite the bullet, but he’d just put a piece of steak in his mouth.

Then Carly started talking about something, and before he knew it, they’d finished eating. They’d drunk most of the wine, too, which was probably a good thing. If she was a little mellow, she might be more receptive to his explanation.

He cleared his throat, then made himself begin. “Carly, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Halfway through his sentence, the phone started to ring.

“Oh, Lord,” she said. “That reminds me, there’s something I have to tell you, too. My mother called last night to say that she and my dad and sister are arriving in the morning. With everything else that’s been going on, I forgot to mention it.”

Nick watched her hurry to the phone, thinking it was a damn good thing he’d decided to get this straightened out tonight. He could hardly have had her introducing him to her family as an Edmonton police detective—then have to explain why she hadn’t known the truth.

After she’d listened to her caller for a minute, she said, “No, there’s no problem, Dylan. And thanks for letting me know.”

“What’s up?” he asked as she headed back to the table.

“Nothing, really. He just thought he should tell me that Craig and Jonathan are switching shifts tomorrow. But where were we? You were saying you had something to tell me.”

“Right And you’re going to think it’s pretty funny.” He really hoped there was at least a chance of that, although he knew the odds weren’t good.

She smiled encouragingly.

“You see, way back when we met, that day in Bill Brown’s office, I—”

This time, it was the Marx brothers who interrupted him—taking off on red alert.

“Company!” Crackers announced over their barking. “Company!”

Muttering to himself, Nick trailed Carly to the front
door. She opened it to reveal Jay standing on the porch.

“Look at this,” he said, making a sweeping gesture through the air.

“Look at this sunset. I’ve got to use it. I want an owl sitting on a branch, silhouetted against the orange. Then we’ll shoot him in twilight. And, finally, in total darkness. Royce is getting the cameras set up, so come on. There’s no time to waste.”

“H
OOT
, O
LLIE
,” Carly tried again.

But Ollie the owl was
not
in a hooting mood. Jay had found a dead tree only a few feet into the woods that they had Ollie perched on. And to make him visible in the darkness, Royce was using an enormous arc light—which he called “the brute” and said gave off the equivalent of 12,000 watts.

Ollie had never been in such a bright spotlight before, and he apparently didn’t like it any more than Carly did.

The night was warm, and sitting in the heat from the brute she was downright hot, but somebody had to hold the end of Ollie’s invisible lead.

She glanced over at Nick, who gave her a weary smile. He looked, she thought guiltily, dead on his feet

Stiff and sore as he’d been, they probably shouldn’t have spent the entire afternoon making love. At the very least, she should have convinced him to take a nap.

But just the thought of making love with him made her long to get back to the house. She wanted to be in his arms again, and she wanted to hear what he’d been going to tell her before Jay had interrupted. Of
course, she was pretty sure she knew what it was, but hearing him say it would make it official.

She smiled to herself, silently laughing at the way her heartbeat accelerated every time she pictured Nick taking, her hands in his. Now that they’d fallen in love, he’d say, they were somehow going to have to solve the problem of the thousands of miles between their worlds.

At any rate, that was what she was praying he’d say, because she wanted it more than she’d ever even imagined wanting anything.

“Jay?” Goodie said, breaking the silence on the set. “Why don’t we call it a night and dub a hoot in editing.”

“Shhh,” Jay hissed.

“Don’t ’shhh’ me. Do you realize how much film you’re wasting?”

Carly glanced at her watch, hating to imagine the answer to that. They’d been out here for hours, shooting Ollie against the sunset, then in the dusk, and now with—supposedly—only the moon and stars for light

Jay had decided that intercutting various shots of Ollie, with ones of the lost boys, would effectively show the passing hours. That struck her as a nice artistic touch, but when it came to the hoot, she thought he was getting carried away. Nobody would know if the sound was dubbed.

Just as she was thinking that, they lucked out. Something rustled in the leaves, Ollie’s gaze snapped toward the sound and he produced a long, reedy “Hoooot.”

“Cut. And print.” Jay called. “That’s a wrap, folks. And they’re forecasting a cloudy day tomorrow, which would wreak havoc with our continuity, so
we’re going to do some of the night shooting instead of day scenes. Which means you can all sleep late. We won’t start getting organized until the afternoon.”

While Carly was pushing herself up off the ground, Jay turned to her and added, “We’ll need the dogs tomorrow night.”

“You mean the German shepherds I’m bringing in for the search party scenes or—”

“No, no.” He impatiently waved her words away. “Just your wolf dogs. We’ll do some howling scenes, and the one where the kids spot them and are scared half to death. Oh, and I’m adding a scene where they chase a deer, then tear it apart. That might be effective in the moonlight”

“Chase a deer and tear it apart?” she said uneasily. “Jay, this is a
family
movie.”

“Well they won’t
really
be doing that We’ll shoot the dogs running and a deer running, and edit. Just like with the boys and Attila.”

“But the kids in the audience won’t know that’s what you did. They’ll think the Marx brothers killed Bambi.”

“She’s right,” Goodie said.

“Then we’ll run a notice across the screen with the opening credits, saying that scenes depicting injury to animals have been simulated.”

“How may kids do you think read the credits?" Goodie demanded.

Jay glared at him but said, “Okay. Forget the chasing part. I still want a scene of the wolves tearing something apart, though. It’ll illustrate what they could do to the boys. Barb can put something together that’ll look like a dead animal.

“At any rate,” he added, glancing at Carly again,
“I won’t need the dogs until about eight at night, so you and Nick can have the day off.”

As she nodded, someone turned off the brute. The heat from it immediately began to dissipate, and her eyes gradually adjusted to the moonlight

By the time they had, Nick was at her side. “Let’s get out of here before Jay thinks up any more scenes to add,” he whispered. “But I trust you noticed there were no problems on the set tonight. And I hear the afternoon shoot with the boys went fine—which means we’ve gone the entire day without our saboteur doing anything.”

“So maybe he
has
decided to quit before he gets caught.”

“With any luck.”

Carly coaxed Ollie onto her shoulder, hoping with all her heart that the problems really
had
ended for good. Especially with her parents and Lisa arriving tomorrow. She’d have to spend as much time as she could with them, so playing detective would be almost impossible.

She was just about to say that to Nick when a woman called his name.

As they turned, Barb Hunt caught up with them and said, “Okay if I walk along with you for a minute?”

“Sure,” Nick said. “What’s up?”

“Well, what we were talking about yesterday…" She hesitated, glancing toward Carly. “About the things…”

“You mean the things that have been happening,” Nick said.

When she glanced at Carly again, he added, “She’s as concerned as I am. There’s no reason to hedge.”

Barb nodded. “Okay, then you’re probably going to figure this is crazy, but I’ve been thinking there’s someone else who might be causing the trouble.”

“Who?”

“Well…”

When Barb looked around, Carly did too, but there was no reason anybody would be near them. They were walking toward the house while everyone else was heading for the camp.

“Okay.” Barb took a visibly deep breath. “It could be Goodie.”

“What?” Carly said, her tone so surprised it made Ollie do a little shuffling step on her shoulder.

But the idea of Goodie causing the problems made about as much sense as Jay’s doing it. Which meant Barb must simply be trying to cause her husband grief. What sort of grief did she figure Nick would give him, though? Unless she had evidence.

“Wait a minute,” Nick was saying. “Every time something goes wrong, Goodie’s complaining about how much money the delays are costing him.”

“I know,” Barb said. “But he’s a sneaky bastard. And the more I think about it, the more I’m wondering if he has a master plan.”

“To do what?”

“Gain control of Get Real Productions.”

“I thought it was already his company.”

“No, not his alone. He has a couple of silent partners. They initially put up a lot of working capital, and between them they’ve got a controlling interest. Goodie doesn’t like that, but when he decided he wanted to start Get Real he didn’t have enough money of his own.”

“I’m missing something here,” Nick said. “How would losing money on this movie help him?”

“Well, none of the films he’s made so far have done great box office. And his partners are getting tired of waiting for a good return on their investment, so if Goodie suggested buying them out, they might go for it.”

“Has he got the money to do that?” Carly asked. “I mean, if he didn’t have enough in the beginning…”

Barb shrugged. “Goodie never talked to me about his finances, not even before our marriage hit the skids. But I was thinking, if
Two for Trouble
bombs, his partners might even be willing to sell out at a loss.

“And that would give Goodie control before he started work on his next movie. That’s the one I told you about, Nick. The one based on a blockbuster novel. He figures it’s sure to be a smash.”

“Goodie trying to ruin his own movie,” Nick said. “Would he really do that?”

“Well, he hasn’t been speaking to me lately, let alone confiding in me. But yeah, I think he might”

“It just sounds so crazy,” Carly said.

Barb shrugged again. “There’s a saying in L.A. that goes, ‘All directors are crazy, and producers are downright certifiable.’”

“S
O YOU REALLY DON’T
think it could be Goodie?" Carly asked as she locked the kitchen door.

“My instinct tells me it’s not,” Nick said wearily. “But my instinct isn’t infallible, so I guess we’d better try to keep an eye on him.”

“Along with continuing to try to keep an eye on the chef, Sarina and Garth?”

Nick nodded. “We’re liable to end up cross-eyed by the time the movie’s finished.”

Carly gave him a wry smile. “But hopefully whoever it is has stopped.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.” He leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her give the Marx brothers fresh water and thinking that he was totally exhausted. Not to mention stiff and sore, to use the phrase of the day.

Even so, he knew he still had to deal with the little matter of telling her the truth. If she hadn’t been so keen on discussing the possibility of Goodie as suspect while they’d walked the dogs, he might even have had it over and done with by now.

But he doubted it He was still trying to work up his courage again.

As they started for the stairs, she wrapped her arm around his waist. It made him decide that bed would, be the best place to tell her.

At the top of the stairs, she smiled again—an inviting one this time—arid said, “Your place or mine?” Then she glanced into his room, at the tangle of sheets they’d left behind earlier, and decided on hers.

She flicked off the hall light but didn’t bother switching on the bedroom one. And when he followed her into the room, she turned toward him in the moonlight and snuggled her body against his.