by Zara Keane
“What about the floor?” asked one of the male dancers. “Is it safe to dance?”
“I’ll make sure it’s cleaned before the next rehearsal starts,” Coco replied. “Now, go take a break.”
Whispering to one another and shooting curious glances at me, the dancers glided off the dance floor. They disappeared behind an elaborate oriental screen at the far end of the room.
Coco turned and subjected me to an appraising once-over. “You’re a pretty sharp-eyed lady. You have a name?”
“Maggie Doyle.” I held out my good hand.
“Nice to meet you, Maggie. I’m Coco.” The choreographer clutched my hand in a firm shake. “And I answer to ‘he’ or ‘she’ when I’m not in drag. I take the RuPaul approach to pronouns.”
Heat rushed up to my cheeks. “Was my unspoken question that obvious?”
“Nah, you’re good.” Coco’s eyes twinkled with silent laughter. “I just don’t like beating around the bush.”
I took an instant liking to her.
Coco eyed me thoughtfully. “Why does your name sound familiar, Ms. Maggie Doyle?”
“My friends are extras in one of the dance scenes,” I hedged, reluctant to reveal my connection to my sister too soon. “Maybe one of them mentioned me.”
“Nuh-uh. That’s not it.” Coco tapped a red fingernail against her cheek and scrutinized me. “It’ll come to me.”
“I’m from the same side of the pond as you are,” I prompted. “Maybe that’s why I seem familiar.”
“But not the same side of the swamp,” she countered with a grin. “You’re a West Coaster if ever I heard one.”
“Guilty as charged. I’m from San Francisco, but I moved to Whisper Island eighteen months ago.”
“I’m from New Orleans.” Coco’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “By way of a spit-and-you-miss-it town in Louisiana, but that’s between you, me, and the State Department.”
I laughed. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Coco examined my sling and frowned. “I assume that’s not part of your costume?”
“I wish.” I twitched my sling. “I fell down a flight of stairs yesterday, and this was the result.”
“Ouch.” Coco cast me a look of sympathy. “I’m surprised you were allowed to keep your part in the movie. The director’s a stickler for perfection, even for extras in the background.”
I hesitated for a moment before responding. Mention of my sister might make Coco wary of me, especially if she’d argued with Beth. On the other hand, someone was bound to tell her who I was before the weekend was over, and it might as well be me. “Nepotism,” I said bluntly. “Eliza Donati is my sister.”
Coco’s warm smile didn’t falter, but her eyes narrowed a fraction. “I knew your name sounded familiar. So you’re Eliza’s sister?” She ran a practiced gaze over my figure and whistled. “Eliza must be spitting feathers that you got the looks. She knows her way around a makeup box, no question, but you’re a natural beauty. You planning on following her footsteps into show business?”
Heat scorched a path over my cheeks. I wasn’t bad-looking, but no one had ever preferred my looks to my sister’s. “I’m just here as an extra,” I mumbled. “Eliza’s the actor in our family.”
The choreographer’s shrewd gaze met mine. “Is that so?”
“My friend Lenny says you’re the choreographer for his dance,” I said, keen to distract her from the subject of acting.
“I’m one of them.” Coco nodded to the flame-haired woman on the other side of the room who was fussing over the injured Gretchen. “Merry helps.”
The door to the ballroom opened, and a woman in a white uniform bustled in, clutching a medical bag. I recognized her instantly. It was Brid Kelly, a nurse from the Whisper Island Medical Centre. If Con Ryder had hired her services for the weekend, he was taking no chances.
A sick fear twisted in my stomach. Before Gretchen’s fall, I’d almost convinced myself that Con’s concerns were unjustified. Now I was sure he was right to be worried.
Coco looped her arm through my uninjured one. “You’ve gone whiter than my momma’s washing. Would you like to have a cup of tea with me in my dressing room? I want to hear all about Eliza when she was a chubby toddler.”
“When Beth was a chubby toddler, I was an even chubbier preschooler,” I replied with a laugh.
“Beth, eh? Eliza’s a little fancier.” Coco chuckled. “Not that I’m one to judge. My parents stuck me with Jack Leroy Beauville III.”
I burst out laughing. “What a mouthful. I prefer Coco.”
She winked at me and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Believe me, honey, so do I. I think you and I will get on just fine.”
14
While Coco led me across the dance floor, I checked the room for surveillance cameras. I saw none. I’d need to ask Con if there were any in the ballroom that I might have missed.
“I’m going to have tea with this lovely lady,” Coco said to Merry. “Can you call maintenance and make sure the floor is thoroughly cleaned before the next rehearsal?”
Merry’s every move screamed ballet training. “I’m on it,” she said, grabbing a phone from the table next to the oriental screen.
“Merry is a treasure,” Coco confided as she steered me to the exit. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
The choreographer led me out of the ballroom and into a small antechamber off the entrance hall. A rack of wildly colored dresses livened up the sparse room, and a camper bed occupied one wall. A row of well-thumbed paperbacks lined up on a shelf, underneath a set of framed photographs featuring Coco in her Vegas days. A third shelf held a gorgeous collection of intricately painted china cups.
“Con tried to stick me in a tent.” Coco gave a theatrical shudder. “No way was I tolerating that treatment, not even for two nights.”
“I’m less than enthusiastic about my tent,” I admitted.
My host raised an eyebrow and indicated for me to take a seat. “Your sister didn’t invite you to share her room?”
I hesitated for a moment. “Beth and I aren’t exactly close.”
The choreographer nodded as though this information confirmed her suspicions. “I’ll make the tea, and you can tell me all about life in this part of Ireland. When the shoot wraps, I plan to take a two-week vacation and drive around the country.”
“That’s a great idea. I can give you tips on where to go.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Coco filled the electric kettle and switched it on to boil. “Earl Grey or oolong?”
“Earl Grey, please.”
When the water boiled, Coco served our tea in neat china cups, positioning mine on a side table next to my functioning hand. “I take these cups with me wherever I go. It’s my one indulgence when traveling.”
“They’re beautiful.” I picked up my tea and inhaled the gentle scent. “You must’ve seen a lot of the world over the years.”
“China, Japan, Malaysia, Australia, Canada, and the good old U.S. of A. Believe it or not, this is my first trip to Europe.” She took a sip of her tea. “Like with most work trips, I see hotels and movie sets, but not a lot else.”
I took a drink from my cup and considered how best to broach the subject of the accidents. “My sister told me you all had an accident on set the other day,” I said carefully. “And today, Gretchen was injured. Are accidents a normal part of a movie shoot?”
Coco’s left shoulder twitched. “Normal, no, but they happen.”
“Beth was pretty shaken up. She seems to think she’s being targeted.”
The choreographer sniffed. “Eliza’s all about Eliza. She can’t imagine a world where other people might be a target.” She peered at me and added, “I’ve seen movie stars rise and fall over the years. Your sister’s nothing special.”
No love lost between those two, it seemed. Despite my annoyance with Beth, I had to fight my sisterly impulse to defend her. “Do you think the light falling was an accident
?” I asked, keen to keep the choreographer talking.
Coco took another sip of tea, letting my question hang in the air. “I’m not sure,” she said finally. “If it were the only incident that had happened since the shoot started, I’d say your sister was a drama queen.”
“But…” I prompted.
“We’ve had an interesting shoot, let’s put it that way.” Coco’s knowing gaze fixed me in place. “You saw what happened at the rehearsal today. Why was furniture polish on one patch of the floor? If a member of the cleaning crew had accidentally used the wrong floor product, it would’ve been all over the dance floor.”
This thought had occurred to me too. “Do you think there’s a saboteur on set? Someone deliberately trying to hurt the cast and crew?”
Coco shrugged. “The more accidents keep happening, the more I got to wonder. And why that particular patch of flooring? All the dancers know who dances where during their routine. Was Gretchen deliberately targeted?”
“If Gretchen was targeted,” I said slowly, “that means my sister is wrong about the attacks being all about her.”
Coco sniffed but made no reply.
“Can you think of anyone who might wish Gretchen harm?”
“Absolutely not.” Her tone was adamant. “Gretchen’s one of the sweetest people on this set.”
Sweet wasn’t an adjective anyone would associate with my sister. “Beth—Eliza—wasn’t at this morning’s rehearsal. It’s safe to say the Pledge wasn’t intended for her. But what about the other incidents? Can you think of anyone who’d want to hurt my sister?”
Coco’s lips twisted into a malicious smile. “Wrong question, honey. Your sister’s irritated so many people that it’d be quicker to compile a list of those who still like her.”
Not surprising, but ouch. “Beth has a tendency to rub people the wrong way. I believe she upset you at the start of the Belfast shoot.”
“You’re well informed,” Coco replied with a touch of asperity. “I suppose Eliza bitched about me.”
“She’s not a subtle person,” I said, careful to stay away from outright lying.
A cord twanged in Coco’s neck. “Your sister hasn’t spoken a word to me since I ordered her out of my rehearsal room for yelling at Merry. My assistant has worked as a pro dancer for over thirty years. If she corrects a dance move, she knows what she’s talking about.”
“Poor Merry. Did it upset her?”
“It did, but Merry’s a professional. She won’t let it show.”
I digested this information. My face must’ve betrayed my thoughts because Coco added, “Bad feelings aside, don’t suspect Merry and me of on-set sabotage. I’d never put one of my dancers in danger, and neither would Merry. If you want my thoughts, Eliza’s boyfriend’s at the top of my list of suspects.”
“Luke?” The question came out in a gasp.
Coco slapped a hand against her thigh at my reaction. “So I was right about those two. I knew they were an item.”
“Nicely played,” I said, shaking my head. “Yeah, Luke and Eliza are dating. I forgot their relationship wasn’t official on set.”
“It doesn’t need to be. Luke slinks around like a lovelorn pup. Eliza, meanwhile, is all over Judd.”
I did a double-take, almost spilling hot tea over my only functioning hand. “Whoa. Not good. That guy’s a jerk.”
“Oh, total.” Coco slid a fingertip around the rim of her cup. “But if Judd hooks up with Eliza, it’ll make Con’s year. It’s a lot easier to sell a real relationship than a PR job.”
“I guess.” I sighed. The last thing my sister needed was yet another bad boy boyfriend, movie star or not. While I believed in giving people second chances, Judd oozed arrogance.
“So, what’s your line of business, Maggie?” Coco asked, cutting through my thoughts. “You’ve said you’re not in show biz.”
“Definitely not.” I grinned. “I was a police officer in a former life.”
Coco narrowed her eyes. “You sure about the ‘former’ part? You ask a lot of questions for a movie extra, even one who’s related to the star.”
“I’m just concerned for my sister’s safety,” I said, adopting a look of innocence.
“Uh-huh. So if I ask around, I won’t learn you’re part of the Whisper Island police force? We’ve already got one of their men here posing as an extra, and I suspect he’s got a partner.”
I choked on my tea. Coco had to be referring to Liam. “How can you be certain?”
“Because Jack Leroy Beauville I and II are cops,” she said with a bitter twist. “I know a police officer when I see one.”
“Why would there be an undercover cop on the movie set?” I asked, shooting for nonchalance. “Did Con ask for police protection?”
“I believe so.” A line marred the smoothness of her forehead. “Con’s paranoid about someone sabotaging his movie. What I don’t understand is why he’d assign two cops to the dance team.”
“Two undercover cops?” Liam had to be one of the people she suspected, but who was the other?
“That’s what I suspect. Con’s trying to foist a hairy redhead on me, but I have no space left for another man on the amateur dance team.”
“A hairy redhead?”
“Short and stocky with bushy hair everywhere. The guy seems to think we’re shooting a movie set in Hawaii.”
“Oh, man,” I said, laughing. “That’s got to be Magnum. Does he wear an awful Hawaiian shirt that doesn’t quite fit?”
“That’s the guy.” Coco raised one eyebrow. “You know him?”
The irony of Liam being suspected of working undercover was hilarious, and pairing him with Magnum was comedy gold. “Yeah, I know Magnum. He’s no cop.”
Coco didn’t look convinced. “Even if the little Hawaiian wannabe isn’t a cop, the other guy definitely is.”
I schooled my face into a neutral expression. “At least Con is doing his best to protect everyone on set.”
“If Con put an undercover officer in with the dancers, he must think we’re in danger. So why didn’t that guy check the dance floor before rehearsals began? Did Con hire a cut-rate buffoon?”
I coughed on a laugh at this description and made a mental note to remind Lenny to check the ballroom before every rehearsal.
“Con could’ve at least told me,” she continued. “If I’d known, I’d have arranged for the man to stay in the ballroom. Maybe then Gretchen wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
“Don’t blame yourself. You’re only speculating that this extra is an undercover officer. He might be just a regular guy from Whisper Island.”
“If he’s not a police officer, he’s part of the security team,” Coco insisted. “I’m sure of it.” An alarm sounded on her phone. “Sorry to cut our tea break short, Maggie. That’s my cue to get back to work.”
I replaced my cup on the table and stood. “Thanks for the tea and the talk.”
“We never got around to those Eliza stories,” Coco said. “Tell you what. Why don’t you join us at the dancers’ pre-filming soirée? All the dancers will be there, pros and extras, and whoever else we want to invite.”
A casual gathering would give me an excellent excuse to chat with the dancers. I was sure Lenny would do an excellent job of getting information out of them, but there were moments where a woman’s touch came in handy. “If it doesn’t clash with shooting one of my scenes, I’d love to join you. What time does it start?”
“At eight, but it’s a come-and-go-as-you-please affair. We’ll all need to visit hair and makeup at some stage before the shoot starts.” Coco leaned forward and said in a dramatic whisper, “Merry and I are making our signature break-a-leg shots for the dance crew. Although after Gretchen’s fall, we’d better rename them.”
“Sounds like fun, but you’ll have to make my drink non-alcoholic.” I touched my sling. “Thanks to my wrist, I’m on heavy-duty painkillers.”
“Don’t worry, honey. All the shots are non-alcoholic.” Coco ga
ve me a conspiratorial wink. “Mostly. Con and his precious insurers wouldn’t have it any other way.”
15
After I parted ways with Coco, I stepped outside Dunfarrig Castle for a breath of fresh air. My eyes were dry as sandpaper, and the medication was giving me a bad case of brain fog. I needed to gather my wits before I met with Harper, even if it meant arriving a couple of minutes late. And with my right hand out of commission, I wanted to find a quiet spot to dictate notes on the case.
In stark contrast to inside, outside the castle was comparatively quiet. Harper had provided a copy of the day’s schedule in her email, and I’d read it on the ferry. My sister was filming a scene on the far side of Dolphin Island, close to the bird sanctuary. Judd Ryan’s early morning shoot would be over by now, but he’d be due on set again at eleven. The rest of the cast was rehearsing for future scenes. The crew would be hard at work at both the shoots and the rehearsals.
I slipped along the side of the castle and followed a winding stone path that led into the gardens. When I’d visited last summer, the gardens had been a tangled mess. Now they were neatly trimmed and impeccably maintained. I wandered through an aromatic herb garden, past a pond filled with lily pads, and into a second garden bursting with flowers. Unlike my sorry efforts in my small garden, the plants here had somehow withstood the terrible summer weather.
A few minutes into my walk, I stumbled upon a wrought iron gate on the opposite side of the flower garden. The sign on the left gate post read Poison Garden, followed by a plaque warning of the hazards within. Expecting the gate to be locked, I was surprised when it burst open. On instinct, I ducked behind a bush.
I peered through the leaves. Judd Ryan stalked out of the Poison Garden, followed by Merry, the assistant choreographer. Judd’s shades were in place, but I didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was furious. Merry’s lovely copper-tinged hazel eyes were overflowing with tears.
“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” he snapped at the weeping woman. “All you had to do was wait one more week, and everything would’ve been okay.”
