Chapter 6
“What’s wrong?”Nash whispered.
The actress spoke the lines Londyn had memorized.
“Those are my lines. That’s my part.” Londyn stopped behind the cameras, fighting the urge to march into the middle of the set and demand to know why Julia was performing her part.
But she refused to look like a spoiled diva. There had to be a good explanation.
As the script called for, Troy grabbed Lana—in this case, Julia—and pressed a pistol to her temple.
Julia dug her elbow into Troy’s side, grabbed the hand holding the gun, yanked it down, twisted his wrist and took the gun. When she moved it to her other hand, she fumbled and dropped it in the dirt.
“Cut!” the director shouted.
Londyn hurried over to Haynes. “Hey, Steve, why is Julia playing my part?”
“About time you got here,” Haynes said. “We started an hour ago. Where were you?”
“I came at the time we usually start,” Londyn said. “When did you change the schedule to an hour earlier?”
“Last night. I let everyone know to show up an hour earlier.”
“Apparently, not everyone,” Londyn said. “Did you make this change after I left for the evening?”
“Maybe. I don’t know when you left.” Haynes waved at one of the cameramen. “The angle of that camera isn’t quite right. I want to see more of Lana, less of Troy.” He turned back to Londyn, his brow furrowing. “I checked the weather yesterday evening. They’re calling for storms late this afternoon. You might recall we have the cattle drive sequence today. If we want to shoot that scene, we have to start no later than noon. Which meant moving this take earlier.”
“And this news happened after I left?” Londyn asked. “How was I supposed to know?”
“When I made the announcement, someone said they would let you know.” He looked around and waved his hand toward Julia. “Julia, I think.”
Londyn looked across to where Julia stood talking to Craig. She smiled and laughed at something the actor said. Julia glanced toward the director, her eyes widening. She said something to Craig, then made her way across to where Londyn stood with Haynes. “Oh, Londyn, I’m so glad you got here. We were just practicing the scene until you arrived.”
“Steve tells me that you were supposed to let me know about the schedule change,” Londyn said.
Julia blinked. “Oh, was I supposed to do that?”
Director Haynes had already walked off to talk to the cameraman.
Londyn’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what Steve said.”
Julia pressed a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I must not have heard him tell me to do that.”
Director Haynes called out, “Where is my Lana? We don’t have all day. Get into costume, Londyn.”
Londyn cocked an eyebrow toward Julia.
Julia gave her a crooked smile. “You can come change in my trailer since I’ll have to find clothes anyway.” Julia led the way.
Londyn held back, walking beside Nash.
He leaned down and whispered, “Are you all right?”
Londyn’s jaw tightened. “We’ll see.”
Julia climbed the steps to her trailer and unlocked the door. “I’m sorry for the mess,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting company.” She turned and held the door for Londyn.
Londyn hesitated. “I’ll wait here. When you get changed, you can hand me the clothes.”
Julia shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll only be a minute.” She ducked inside the trailer and closed the door behind her.
Londyn glanced toward Nash.
His eyebrows rose on his forehead. “Sounds suspicious.”
Londyn’s lips pressed tightly together. “Hard to say. Yesterday was chaotic. Haynes might not have heard her say that she would get in touch with me.”
Nash tipped his head and met her gaze, holding it. “Or she could’ve conveniently forgotten.”
The thought had crossed Londyn’s mind. What better way to show the director that she could do the part as well as Londyn, with Londyn out of the way?
“Was Julia up for the same part?” Nash asked.
“I don’t know.” Londyn hadn’t really thought about who else had auditioned for the role of Lana. “I could ask my mother.”
“Or the director,” Nash suggested.
Londyn shook her head. “He has enough on his mind trying to keep to a schedule, especially with so many moving parts.”
Nash nodded.
“Besides, my mother has her finger on the pulse of Hollywood.” Londyn snorted softly. “She’d know every name on the list of the women who applied for this part. If she doesn’t know, she’ll know who to ask. And they’d tell her.”
Nash’s lips quirked on the corners. “That, I’d believe.”
Londyn’s lips twisted. “You’ve met my mother.”
“Not in person,” Nash said. “But I spoke with her on the phone. She is very...direct.”
“That’s my mother.” Londyn grimaced. “That woman knows exactly what she wants and pursues it singlemindedly until she gets it. That’s how she made it so big.”
The trailer door opened, and Julia’s head peeked out, her shoulders bare except for her bra straps. “They’re a little dusty. We were filming the fight scene, after all. I’m sure the dust will come out if you give them a little shake. It’s a good thing that you and I are pretty much the same size, or we wouldn’t have been able to practice the scene with me in costume.”
Londyn climbed the stairs.
As she reached the top, Julia opened the door wider, exposing the fact she wore nothing but her bra and a pair of thong panties. She held out the bundle. Once she handed the wad of clothing to Londyn, she smiled and winked at Nash.
Londyn frowned as she struggled to keep from dropping the items. She was just getting used to the cast showing up wearing less than what her grandfather would have considered appropriate. The fact she’d stood there half-naked and winked at Londyn’s fake boyfriend made her hackles raise and her fingers curl like one of her barn cats getting ready to pounce on a rat.
Once she had everything secure, she descended the stairs.
“Are you sure you don’t want to change in my trailer?” Julia asked. “I mean, since you don’t have a trailer anymore...”
Londyn had forgotten that little detail.
Nash spoke softly into her ear, “What about the cabin?”
Londyn shot him a quick smile and turned back to Julia. “No, thank you…and thank you for filling in for me until I could get here.”
Julia waved a hand. “Oh, no problem. I know all the lines. I like to be prepared for anything.”
“That’s very convenient,” Londyn said with a tight smile, keeping all sarcasm to herself. “I’ll see you on the set.” She turned with her bunch of dusty clothes clutched in her arms.
Nash placed a hand at the small of her back and walked with her toward the cabin. Once they were out of earshot, he said, “I’ll have Swede do a background check on Julia.”
Glad he was thinking along the same lines, she nodded. “Although I can’t imagine where she’d get hold of C-4 or know how to set a detonator, it wouldn’t hurt to know my potential competition.” Londyn stopped in front of the cabin. “I’ll only be a minute.”
Nash touched her arm. “Let me check inside first.”
Londyn didn’t argue. He’d saved her from the explosion. Who knew what else might be lying in wait to surprise her?
Nash ducked into the cabin and was back out moments later. “All clear.”
“Thanks.” Londyn gave him a brief smile and ducked through the door. She shook the dust out of the clothes and laid them on the rough-hewn table built by the men who’d created their sets and props. She glanced at the uncovered windows. Morning sunlight shone across the wooden floor. Moving into the shadows, she stripped out of the T-shirt and baggy sweats Nash had loaned her. Then, she quickly pulled on the pants and white blouse the costume designer had provided for the scene. Immediately, she was enveloped in the potent floral scent Julia always wore.
The perfume tickled Londyn’s nose and made her sneeze. She hoped it would fade before she had to say her lines. Already late for the shoot, she didn’t want to have to do multiple takes should she start sneezing.
When she stepped out of the cabin, she found the hair stylist and makeup artist talking with Nash.
They were young and pretty and smiling up at the handsome man.
A stab of something hit Londyn square in the chest, making her hands curl into fists and a flush of red fill her vision. It was anger, but not the kind of anger she was used to. Her eyes widened. Holy crap. Was she jealous?
She shook her head, trying to clear the emotion before the women turned toward her.
“Oh, good,” the makeup artist said. She plopped a tall folding chair in front of Londyn. “We came prepared,” she said. “Sit.” The woman pulled a makeup palette from the satchel slung over her shoulder.
The hairstylist had her toolbelt strapped around her hips with hairbrushes, a flat iron and bottles of hairspray positioned around her. A long extension cord ran from the flat iron to somewhere around the corner of the cabin, probably hooked up to one of the site’s generators.
Londyn dropped into the chair.
For the next few minutes, the women worked their magic on her makeup and hair. When they were done, they stepped back.
The makeup specialist tipped her head toward the set. “Go. They’re waiting on you.”
Londyn popped out of the chair and hurried to where the cameras were positioned. The cast and crew stood around, smoking, joking or generally looking bored.
Director Haynes stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his toe tapping in the dust. When he spotted Londyn headed their way, he turned and shouted, “Let’s get this ball rolling!”
People sprang into action. Cameramen ducked behind their cameras, and lighting technicians took their positions, adjusting the lighting. Troy and Craig stood in the middle of the set where they’d been when Londyn had first arrived.
Having read the script and witnessed the scene acted out with Julia playing her part, Londyn had a good idea of what was expected. Only she’d be damned if she dropped the gun.
“Remember, when you get the gun, you’re to aim at Troy and pull the trigger,” Haynes said. “The blank will sound just like a real bullet being discharged.”
Having been raised by her grandfather, Londyn knew how to handle handguns, rifles, shotguns and even a flame thrower. Each had its purpose on the ranch. Her grandfather had made sure she could handle all of them and that she maintained her proficiency. He’d preached that when you needed a gun, you didn’t have time to learn how to use it.
They’d spent many hours practicing with targets, aluminum cans, tree stumps and clay pigeons. He’d taken her hunting deer, elk, moose and pheasants. She’d bagged her limit on many occasions. Her grandfather had also taught her to fish. What they hadn’t eaten immediately, they’d put in the freezer. When money had been tight, they’d never lacked for meat.
Funny how images of her grandfather came up. He’d taught her so much about ranching, nature and responsibility. But this wasn’t hunting and fishing. She was a fish out of water in the world of acting. If she wanted to save the ranch, she had to focus on getting her lines right and making her movements look natural. She didn’t like having to shoot the same scene over and over. Her goal was to get it right the first time.
Nash stood behind the cameras while Londyn took her position.
As much as she liked her independence, not relying on anyone else, the feeling of being safe filled her heart and soul, making it easier to concentrate on the work she must do. She had to remind herself, Don’t get used to it. Once the film was complete, she’d be back on her ranch, and Nash would go on to the next job. A sad feeling washed over her.
What did she expect? To Nash, she was the job. It wasn’t like he’d fall in love with her and stay. And it wasn’t like she’d fall in love with him. Watching her mother’s three failed marriages, Londyn had decided long ago that marriage wasn’t for her. Why tie yourself to a man when it never lasted? Falling in love wasn’t worth the hassle and pain of divorce.
As Londyn prepared for the director to yell Action!, she glanced back at Nash with his broad shoulders, observant gaze and jagged scar along the side of his face. She could see where other women would find him attractive enough to fall in love with him. He was handsome, dedicated and concerned for her welfare. And his body had hers humming with the simplest of touches. And his kiss...
Her pulse ratcheted up, and her cheeks filled with heat. Now was not the time to remember that kiss.
Focus, girl! He’s your bodyguard, nothing more.
Then why did he feel like so much more?
Nash stood back,wishing he could be closer to Londyn. The distance between them wasn’t great, but it was enough to make him edgy.
What if Troy was too rough on her? What if the gun he pointed at her head suddenly went off? Sure, they were using blanks, but a blank fired at close range could kill someone. With the barrel of the pistol pressed against her temple, all it would take was for Troy to get careless and squeeze the trigger.
The rush of dread sent Nash stepping forward.
“Action!” Haynes yelled.
Troy grabbed Londyn and pressed the handgun to her temple.
Nash held his breath, willing Londyn to fake-fight her way out of Troy’s hold quickly before the man got stupid and pulled the trigger.
He didn’t have long to wait until Londyn jabbed her elbow into the man’s gut, grabbed his hand and twisted his arm around, divesting him of the weapon.
She shoved the man away from her and aimed the handgun at him. “Stay back, or I’ll shoot,” she called out.
Troy hesitated for only a moment, then lunged toward her.
Londyn aimed the gun at Troy. A moment later, she pulled the trigger.
A loud bang sounded, followed almost instantly by the crashing sound of one of the lighting fixtures.
“Cut! Cut!” Haynes yelled. “What the hell was that?”
Nash rushed forward and hovered over Londyn, using his body as a shield. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Londyn stared down at the gun she’d taken from Troy and looked past Troy to the lighting fixture that had been destroyed.
“Oh my God,” Londyn said. “That was a live round.”
“Holy shit.” Troy’s eyes rounded as he ran his hands over his chest.
Londyn shook her head. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I didn’t shoot at you, but over your shoulder.”
Troy’s face blanched. “What if you hadn’t missed?”
Londyn shook her head. “Did you hear me? I wasn’t aiming at you. I didn’t miss. I never aim at anything I don’t want to kill,” she said. “Although I didn’t really want to kill the light, it was what I aimed for. If I’d aimed at you, I wouldn’t have missed.” She turned to Haynes.
Haynes scrubbed a hand down his face. “JP!”
The props man rushed into the center of the set. “Give me the gun.”
Londyn handed over the pistol.
“I put blanks in this weapon,” JP said. “The magazine was empty when I started. I very carefully checked the box I took the blanks from and placed them in the magazine one at a time. I know I was right. I even put a mark on the magazine when I finished.” He expelled the magazine from the weapon, dropping it into his hand. “See? I put my initials on the side of the?—”
Nash studied the magazine, as JP turned it over several times. He didn’t see any marks on the metal casing.
JP looked up, his gaze meeting Director Haynes’s. “It’s not there. My mark is not on this magazine. This is not the magazine I placed in the gun.” He turned the weapon over to the side with the serial number. “This is the gun, but not the magazine I loaded specifically with blanks. Someone switched magazines.”
Londyn’s face lost some of its color beneath her dark complexion. She leaned into Nash. “I could’ve killed a man,” she said softly.
Nash slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “But you didn’t,” he reminded her.
“Steve told me to aim at Troy.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t. My grandfather instilled years of training in me. Only aim a loaded weapon at something if you plan to kill it.” She looked up into Nash’s eyes. “I couldn’t aim at Troy like I was told. I shifted my aim to an inanimate object.”
Nash smoothed a strand of her hair back off her cheek. “The lights.”
“God dammit,” Steve Haynes blasted. He turned slowly in a three-hundred-sixty-five-degree circle, his eyes narrowed, his cheeks a ruddy red. “Who the hell switched the magazines?”
When no one answered, the director shook his head. “Someone on this set is fucking with us. When I find out who...so help me, I’ll...” He slammed his fist into his palm.
“You’ll turn him over to the law,” Londyn said. “For attempted murder.” She lifted her head. “This incident needs to be reported to the sheriff.”
“Thankfully, no one was injured,” Haynes said. “But we’re down one light now. It’ll take time to get another shipped out to this godforsaken location.”
“I’ll get right on it,” a man called out.
“Someone call the sheriff,” Haynes said. “The sooner he gets out here, the sooner we can get back to work. At this rate, we won’t finish shooting before the first snow.”
A man walked up to the director and spoke softly to him, but loud enough, Nash could hear what he said.
“I can’t do this,” the cameraman said. “I have a wife and two kids at home. I’m their only source of income. If I’m shot or taken out in an explosion, they’re screwed. I’m sorry, but I’m going home before something happens to me.”
“Marty, you can’t quit now,” Haynes said. “We need you.”
The man shook his head. “My family needs me more. Some of the guys think this project is cursed. At first, I didn’t believe them. But now...”
“It’s not cursed,” Haynes said. “But if that’s how you feel… You have to do what you think is best. However, you’ll have to wait until the sheriff has a chance to talk to everyone. In the meantime, pack your gear.”
The man nodded and left the set.
Haynes’s gaze followed the man until he disappeared. Then he turned toward the rest of the cast and crew. “Anyone else believe this project is cursed and want to leave now?”
A man stepped forward. “I’ve got a new baby at home. I want to be around to watch her grow.”
“Fine,” Haynes said. “Pack your things. You can leave when the sheriff says you can go.”
The man left the gathering.
Haynes stood taller, holding his head high. “I don’t believe in cursed projects, bad juju or whatever bullshit you want to call it. There is nothing magical or mystical about being targeted by some sadistic bastard.”
Nash agreed. This wasn’t the ghosts of Native American ancestors trying to scare them off sacred grounds. A living man or men was behind the incidents.
“What concerns me most,” Haynes said, “is that whoever is doing this has to be someone among us.” He stared around at the people gathered. “We will find out who is responsible. When we do, I’ll do everything in my power to put him in jail. If that’s not enough, I’ll get him blackballed, so he’ll never again work in the movie industry. For those of you who decide to stay for the duration of this project, I advise you all to watch your backs. Now, while we’re waiting for the sheriff, let’s continue with this scene from the point where we left off. JP, get Lana another gun, preferably one that isn’t loaded. Bag this one. I’m sure the sheriff will confiscate it for evidence.”
Nash lowered his mouth close to Londyn’s ear. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I am.”
“Up to continuing?” Nash persisted.
“Yes,” she sighed. “We don’t know if the sheriff will shut us down when he hears about this latest attempt. I’m sure Haynes wants to get more done before that might happen.”
JP appeared beside Londyn, carrying a small gun case. He flipped it open and extracted a handgun much like the one that had had the real bullets in it. He pulled back the bolt and showed Nash and Londyn that the chamber was empty. Then he dropped the magazine from the handle and let Londyn inspect it to see that it, too, was empty.
Then he slipped the empty magazine into the handle and handed the weapon to Londyn. He left the set with the empty case and the gun containing the real bullets.
Nash didn’t envy the guy. He’d have to explain to the sheriff how he’d managed the gun up to the point it had ended up in Londyn’s hands with real bullets, not blanks.
“Everyone in position,” Haynes called out.
Cast and crew hurried to take their places.
Londyn’s hand shook slightly as she stood in front of Troy, holding the gun.
Nash hated backing away behind the cameras. He could only guess at what might happen next. Whoever was behind all the attacks was employing different methods to target Londyn or set her up on murder charges.
As Londyn performed her part, Nash texted Swede, letting him know what had happened and urging him to send any background information he could find on the cast and crew. Whoever it was causing the problems understood explosives and guns. If he had any kind of criminal record, it should show up.
And if the guy had never been charged with a crime?
They were screwed until they caught him in the act.
Swede let him know Hank and Sadie were on their way and told him to expect them within the hour.