Chapter 6
The two women appeared in the kitchen doorway.
Katherine had changed since this morning, trading her Stanford hoodie for jeans and a simple green sweater that made her blue eyes even more vivid.
She'd pulled her blonde hair back in a ponytail, no makeup that I could detect.
The Hollywood polish was still there, but muted, making her look more accessible.
"Uncle Code!" Lachlan burst through the back door, Scout right behind him. "Tyler's here! We're teaching him how to throw a curveball!"
A skinny kid with red hair and freckles followed him in. "Mrs. Drakos, my mom says thank you for inviting me to dinner."
"You're always welcome, Tyler." Bonnie pulled a massive pan of lasagna from the oven. The smell of garlic, basil, and melted cheese filled the kitchen. "Wash your hands, all of you. Amber! Dinner!"
The chaos descended immediately. Kids thundering up and down stairs to wash hands. Scout trying to steal food from the counter. Jase appeared from his office, kissed Bonnie's cheek, then grabbed plates to set the table while simultaneously telling Lachlan to stop letting the dog lick his face.
Katherine stood frozen in the doorway, that perfect Hollywood smile fixed in place but her eyes showing something else. Panic, maybe. Or the kind of exhaustion that came from maintaining a facade when your world was crumbling.
I caught her eye. Tilted my head slightly toward the back door. Want to run?
The corner of her mouth twitched. A real reaction, not the practiced one. She shook her head minutely. We're trapped, she mouthed.
"Sit wherever," Bonnie called over the noise. "Except Tyler, you're between the twins so they don't kill each other."
The table barely contained everyone. Amber on one side of Tyler, Lachlan on the other, both competing for his attention.
Jase carved the lasagna while Bonnie passed salad and garlic bread.
Angelica told a story about some actor who'd shown up to set in a llama costume for no apparent reason.
Multiple conversations happened simultaneously, Bonnie was somehow able to keep track of all of it. It must be a mother thing.
Katherine sat beside me, her shoulder occasionally brushing mine when she reached for something. Each time, she pulled back slightly, maintaining that careful distance she'd probably perfected over years of navigating Hollywood's complicated social dynamics.
"Mom, can Tyler spend the night?" Lachlan asked through a mouthful of lasagna.
"Chew, swallow, then talk," Bonnie said automatically. "And no, it's a school night."
"But tomorrow's teacher development day!"
"Which means you have that book report due Wednesday that you haven't started."
"I've started it!"
"Writing your name on a piece of paper doesn't count as starting."
"That's more than Amber's done!"
"I finished mine yesterday," Amber said, superiority dripping from every word.
The chaos continued. Angelica tried to help by asking the kids about school, which launched three different simultaneous stories about recess drama, a science experiment gone wrong, and something about a lizard in the cafeteria that I couldn't quite follow.
Katherine's hands stayed folded in her lap between bites. She responded when spoken to, smiled at appropriate moments, but I recognized the signs. She was overwhelmed. She needed to process information in quiet, not surrounded by this much stimulus. It kind of surprised me. I would have thought that movie sets would have been just as chaotic. When I glanced at her again, I saw a sheen of perspiration on her brow. It wasn’t just the activity swarming around us, it was the case.
Katherine Lord was drowning in my cousin's domestic chaos, too polite to escape but desperate for an exit strategy.
"I need to go over some technical findings with Ms. Lord," I said during a brief lull when everyone was chewing. "We'll take a walk."
Jase looked up, confused. "Now? During dinner?"
"Time sensitive." I stood, looked at Katherine. "If you're finished?"
She practically launched herself from her chair. "Yes. Absolutely. Thank you for dinner, Bonnie. It was delicious."
"But you barely ate anything," Bonnie protested.
"I had a big lunch," Katherine said smoothly. I knew it was a lie. The way Angelica’s head lifted and her eyes trained on mine, she confirmed it. Her intense gaze told me to ‘fix it’. I nodded that I would.
Katherine and I escaped out the front door before anyone could object. The spring evening had cooled off, sun low but not quite set. We walked in silence down the driveway and turned onto the sidewalk, no particular destination in mind.
"Thank you," she said once we were out of earshot. "The chaos was getting to me. I guess I’m just not used to it."
"Really?"
“Maybe I am, but it seemed like too much today,” she slowly admitted.
“I understand. The Drakos’ clan can be a lot to take on.”
"But they're your family."
"They're Jase's family. I see the Drakos en masse maybe every three years. Usually at Christmas, which is even worse. Eighteen siblings, most with kids now. It sounds like a school cafeteria."
She laughed, soft and genuine. "And I thought Hollywood parties were overwhelming."
We walked past tidy houses with American flags and porch swings. Normal suburban Tennessee. A few people waved from their porches. I nodded back but kept walking.
"What did you find?" Her voice dropped, tension creeping back. "On my devices?"
"Your laptop's been compromised for at least four months."
She stopped dead. "That's impossible. I have one of the best antivirus software programs available. My business manager insisted on it."
"Off-the-shelf programs are decent for basic threats. Useless against targeted attacks." I stopped to look at her, then put my hand lightly at the small of her back to guide her along. "Someone installed a RAT on your system."
"A rat?"
"Remote Access Trojan. Gives them complete control of your computer. They can activate your camera, microphone, log keystrokes, access all your files."
Her face went pale. "They've been watching me? For four months?"
"Possibly. The installation date was January fifteenth. Ring any bells?"
She thought, then her expression shifted. "The Golden Globes afterparty. I left my laptop in my hotel room. I left the do not disturb sign on my room. Nobody should have gone in."
I shook my head. "That wouldn’t have stopped anyone who was watching you and was serious about getting access to your systems. Physical access is the easiest way to bypass antivirus completely.
" We turned onto a quieter street, fewer houses, more trees.
"Physical access means they either had a key card or paid off hotel staff. "
"How does that bypass antivirus? Isn't that what it's supposed to prevent?"
"Two main ways. First, they boot from an external drive.
" I kept my explanation simple, no technical jargon.
"Imagine your computer's like a house. Antivirus is your security system, but it only works when you're home.
If someone breaks in while the house is empty, while your computer's turned off, they can disable the alarm before you get back. "
"That's terrifying."
"Second method's even simpler. They use a USB device that pretends to be a keyboard. Your computer trusts keyboards, lets them do almost anything. The device types commands faster than humanly possible, installs the malware before antivirus can react."
"So, my antivirus was useless?"
"Not useless. But think of it like a lock on your door. Keeps out casual thieves, not professionals with the right tools."
She stayed quiet for half a block, processing. "What can people do to protect themselves?"
"Never leave devices unattended in hotels. Use a privacy screen and camera covers. Enable two-factor authentication on everything. Most importantly, use a VPN and encrypt sensitive files."
"I don't even know what half of that means."
"Your security team should. The fact that they don't is concerning."
“I don’t have a security team. It’s just me and my business manager. He occasionally calls in specialists.”
We reached a small park. Empty playground equipment cast long shadows across patchy grass. Katherine sat on a swing, I remained standing.
"The blackmailer wants me to withdraw by start of production. That’s three weeks from yesterday."
"Twenty days."
"The film's called Passing Through Jordan. It's about a widowed factory owner during World War Two who converts her plant to support the war effort. Marcus Laughton plays James, a Tuskegee Airman who's grounded after being injured and gets assigned to help integrate her workforce."
Her voice carried passion now, the facade dropping completely.
"It's not just another period piece. It's about finding common ground through grief.
My character, Constance, lost her husband at Pearl Harbor.
James lost his best friend in a training accident that also injured him.
They're both broken, both angry, both having to navigate a world that's changing faster than either of them can process. "
"And the integration subplot?"
"That's what makes it powerful. Constance's workers are ready to walk out rather than work alongside Black workers. James is dealing with white managers who think the Tuskegee program was a mistake. They have to trust each other to make it work, even when everyone around them says they shouldn't."
She looked up at me. "Marcus and I have done three films together.
We have this chemistry, this trust that translates on screen.
The director said our scenes together are electric because we genuinely respect each other.
That deepfake, those racist words..." Her voice cracked.
"It would destroy everything the film stands for.
Everything Marcus and I have built together. "
"The timing's deliberate then."