Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
If Nolan hadn’t disturbed Dana, she could have slept all morning. At home, Courtney kept her on such a tight schedule that she rarely got to sleep in. Early on in their novel-writing partnership, Courtney had figured out that they needed six weeks to outline a book and do the research. From there, it was a matter of writing consistently six days a week. Well, actually, Courtney did the writing, typing as Dana walked around the room verbalizing the story elements as they came to mind. Originally, she’d done all the dialogue and other details, but after so many books together, Courtney knew what to write when Dana said, “There should be a big fight scene here,” or “Figure out how she could take over the plane when the pilot passes out.”
Yes, she was putting a lot on Courtney’s shoulders, but she was up to the challenge, and Dana was still the idea person, so she needed to be there. But did it really have to be almost every day? When she complained about the grueling schedule, Courtney said they could cut back only if Dana would stop taking so many trips.
Of course, that wasn’t an option. What good was it to be famous and fabulously wealthy if you couldn’t travel the world and meet all the best people? Ian understood this and encouraged her to go. “It’s great publicity,” he’d said, referring to the pictures of her at author events, galas, and fundraisers with all the biggest names. To Courtney’s consternation, he urged her to accept every invitation, no matter how far-flung the destination. Sometimes she thought he liked it better when she was gone.
Oddly enough, Ian and Kristy themselves rarely traveled, saying they’d get their chance once Brayden was off to college. They’d only gone away for a few days in the spring to meet Brayden’s assigned dorm roommate and his family. Dana knew that the right roommate could change a person’s life, and so she’d approved of the trip. She’d told Brayden, “If you’re lucky, you’ll meet a lifetime friend like Courtney.”
Whether Ian was there at the house or not, it didn’t affect their writing schedule. There was always something. Once the book was done, there was a back-and-forth with her editor—editorial notes on her manuscripts that needed addressing, copyedits, and approvals for book covers and the like.
Dana never touched the revisions. They were such a drag. Courtney got the honor of doing the rewrites, and she did a brilliant job of it. At least that’s what everyone at the publishing house said when they thanked Dana for turning in such beautifully rewritten manuscripts. The only downside of not being fully involved in the process was when attendees at book events asked questions about specific plot points and Dana didn’t have a clue. She was good at improvising, though, and if nothing else, she’d throw the question back, asking them, “What do you think?” She loved seeing their adoring faces light up as they told her their theories on why Rebecca Cavanaugh did one thing or the other.
Everyone was happy, so it all worked out.
So today when she finally had a chance to sleep in, Nolan had come and disturbed her. There’s no way she was falling back asleep, so she might as well start her day.
After he’d left the previous day and she heard his car leave, Dana took the opportunity to hunt for any signs of a hidden camera. She’d searched thoroughly and found one in the overhead light fixture in the main room of the motel. From what she could tell, it was aimed in the direction of the bed and the table.
There was nothing suspicious in the bathroom, which made her feel better, although she still showered quickly and wrapped herself with a towel when done. Afterward, she looked in the mirror and liked what she saw.
Of course, she usually did.
Dana took her makeup bag out of her purse and did an abbreviated job, the kind she did when anticipating a quiet day at home. Just some light foundation, along with some eyeliner and mascara. Eyes were so important. She didn’t bother with her lips or contouring of any kind. She just wanted enough cosmetic help that she didn’t scare herself when spotting her reflection.
Along with her cosmetics, the makeup bag held her secret weapons—the stun gun disguised as lipstick, a hairbrush that concealed a knife, and a key fob that was actually a lighter. Items that were going to be used by Rebecca Cavanaugh in her next book. Courtney had been adamant about ordering them. “I need to know how it feels in her hand,” she’d said. Dana didn’t quite get it, but she always deferred to whatever Courtney wanted. So far, her instincts had proven to be right every single time.
With a fake lipstick that could pack a punch, Dana was sure she could overcome her attackers anytime she wanted.
Still in the bathroom, she pulled on the clothing Nolan had bought for her. It wasn’t quite the kind of thing she’d usually wear, but the size was right and it was tastefully flashy. Once dressed, she took a step back and smiled. Not too bad, and it would even work with her boots. She might even wear it after returning home. A little souvenir. “Well done, Nolan!” she said aloud, turning from side to side and wishing for a full-length mirror.
Back out in the main room, she put the steak knife in her purse. With a stun gun and the knife concealed in her hairbrush she was covered, but it didn’t hurt to have some backup.
She sat on the bed, resting against the headboard, remote in hand. What a luxury to have nothing to do but watch TV. Unfortunately, the television set didn’t even have cable or streaming capability and instead relied on some plastic janky antenna that sat nearby. She flipped between a few local channels until she found the movie Rebecca , then settled in to watch. Too bad Courtney wasn’t here. The novel by Daphne du Maurier was one of her favorites.