Snowbound at Christmas

by Debbie Mason

  “We’re family. It’s—”

  She crossed her arms. “You’re family?”

  He needed to have his head read for bringing GG along. “We’re like family. Estelle’s been my manager for years. And let’s not concern ourselves with propriety. You may address us in any manner you wish, Kit Kat.”

  Her lips flattened. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  He held back a grin. If he wasn’t investigating her for attempted murder, he might just like this woman. He had a feeling they had a lot in common. Pain-in-the-ass actresses, for one.

  As she lifted the teacup to her lips, his grandmother’s narrowed eyes moved from him to Cat. She knew him too damn well. He was relieved when she didn’t say anything, instead taking a sip of tea. She jerked back and stared at the cup. “This is the worst cup of tea I have ever tasted.”

  Chloe took a sip and made a face. “You’re right, it is. Kit Kat, I think it needs to steep longer.”

  “You’ll have to make it yourself. I have things to do. Why don’t you take a crack at it, Estelle? You must be an expert.” Cat headed for the door, and before Grayson could come up with a reason for her to stay, she was gone.

  Grayson stood up. “I’ll take care of the tea.” He needed an excuse to leave the dressing room and follow Cat. With his back to Chloe and Estelle, he slid the tea bags into the inner pocket of his jacket. He turned and started for the door. “You appear to be out of tea bags. I’ll just—”

  Chloe cut him off. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so embarrassed. My sister hasn’t been herself lately.”

  That stopped him in his tracks. “Why’s that?”

  She grimaced, fiddling with the zipper on her hoodie. “She hates LA. She’d rather be back in Colorado, but no one will hire her because…” She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know what else I can do.”

  He felt bad for Chloe. She seemed to care a lot about her sister. He didn’t like to think how she’d feel once she learned the truth about Cat.

  “She’s jealous of you. I saw it straight away,” his grandmother said.

  “You did?” Chloe bit her bottom lip, then nodded. “I’ve suspected it myself, but I didn’t realize it was so obvious.”

  “Sibling rivalry is a dangerous thing. Look at Goneril and Regan in King Lear.”

  Sweet mother of God. What was she thinking? “Estelle, I—” Grayson began.

  Chloe twisted the neckline of her hoodie. “What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?”

  He frowned. “Who’s Baby Jane?”

  “Bette Davis,” his grandmother said, then, at what he imagined was his blank look, she set her tea on the coffee table, put Fluffy on the floor, and stood. Placing one hand over her heart, she threw out the other one. “‘Sister, sister, oh so fair, why is…’”

  “‘… there blood all over your hair,’” Chloe whispered.

  Chapter Four

  Cat couldn’t put a finger on what it was about Lord Harry Halstead that sent her bullshit meter to the red zone. But she’d spent enough time interrogating cons to know that his lordship wasn’t who he said he was. She’d caught the wordless exchanges between him and his manager, the way his pale blue eyes focused intently on her and Chloe. And not in a way that suggested he was thinking of a threesome. Although he could just be curious about the identical twin thing. A lot of people were. All the questions had been annoying growing up. Mr. Manners would be too polite to ask them. Because he was polite—freakishly so.

  She gave her head a mental shake. She’d worry about his agenda later. Everyone in Hollywood had one. But for now, Cat felt confident her sister was safe with Lord Harry and his manager while she got down to the business of identifying Chloe’s attacker before it was too late. She’d just hit the set when she heard voices. Several members of the cast and crew started to trickle in. With little time to spare, she headed for the dressing room of her primary suspect.

  Last night Cat had gone over Molly’s actions before the chandelier fell, and her reaction afterward. They didn’t add up. It was as if the actress had known the chandelier was going to fall. Then again, unlike Cat, Molly had a clear view. But it was when Cat tried to recall the number of times the actress had gone off script and improvised during a scene that her suspicions grew. As far as she remembered, yesterday was a first. And everyone knew the actress hated Chloe, except maybe Chloe. Cat knocked on Molly’s dressing room door.

  When no one responded, she pulled the bump key from her pocket. She kept an eye on the long hallway as she jiggled the key in the lock. If her former partner at the Denver PD could see her now, he’d have a good laugh. He’d nicknamed her Detective Straight and Narrow. Drove him nuts that she had to do everything by the book. No, he wouldn’t laugh, she reminded herself. Those days had ended when everything came out about Michael.

  Just like the FBI, her partner thought she’d been in on the fraud. That had cut deep. More than a year later, the wound had yet to heal. She didn’t know if it ever would. Her family had been angry she’d quit the force instead of fighting to clear her name. Especially her brother Ethan, who was a district attorney.

  They didn’t get it. She may not have been in on Michael’s Ponzi scheme, but indirectly it was her fault he’d been able to bilk so many victims of their savings. The stories of what people had lost broke her heart. She should have clued in to what was going on right under her nose. She was a good cop, but she’d been blinded by love. It’s why she’d anonymously given all her savings, the money her father had left her, to the victims of the fraud. It hadn’t been enough. It would never be enough.

  She rubbed her face in frustration. She couldn’t do this now. Ignoring the familiar weight of shame and guilt lying heavy on her heart, she refocused on the lock. She applied pressure to the key and heard the snick of the tumblers. With one last look down the hall, she opened the door and stepped inside. Quietly closing the door behind her, she did a quick visual search of the room.

  It was smaller than Chloe’s and messier. The furniture and walls were monochromatic. The only splash of color came from the bright piles of clothing littering the floor, a fuchsia bra hanging from the chair in front of the makeup table. Cat walked to the coffee table and riffled through a stack of papers. Nothing of interest; just some old scripts and newspaper and magazine clippings. She didn’t really expect Molly to leave anything incriminating lying out in the open. But if Cat didn’t do a thorough search of the room, she’d always wonder if she missed something.

  Given the timeline, Molly couldn’t have cut the wires on her own. She had a partner, either one of the cast or crew. Now Cat had to figure out who. Hoping to find even a small clue, she walked to the makeup table and opened a drawer. Jam-packed with cleansers and moisturizers, it was a bust, just like her foray onto Molly’s social media accounts last night. Cat needed access to the actress’s phone and computer.

  As Cat closed the bottom drawer, she heard something in the hall. She glanced over her shoulder. The doorknob turned. Sucking in a panicked breath, she ran on her tiptoes to the closet. She’d just closed the louvered door when someone entered the room. Carefully sliding the shoes out of the way, then the hangers of clothing, she pushed to the back of the closet before looking through the slats.

  Her eyes widened. It wasn’t Molly, as she’d first suspected—it was Harry. Her immediate reaction was to open the closet door and ask his lordship what he was doing in the actress’s dressing room. Since she didn’t want to alert him or anyone else to what she was up to, she stifled the urge and watched him instead. He crouched by the coffee table. She leaned forward, pressing her eye to the slat to get a better view. His head swiveled in her direction. Holding her breath, she slowly eased back.

  He came to his feet with that same contained grace she’d noticed earlier, holding what appeared to be a magazine clipping in his hand. For an anxiety-filled moment she thought he’d seen or heard her, but just as she was reassuring herself it was impossible, Molly’s voice filtered into the room from
the hall.

  Before Cat could blink, Harry opened the closet door and slipped inside, crowding her against the wall. He didn’t seem surprised to see her. She didn’t have long to contemplate this because he banged his head on the upper shelf and cursed. Cat inwardly did the same, covering his mouth with her hand. The idiot was going to get her caught. He raised an eyebrow, his words muffled in her palm.

  “Be quiet,” she whispered, doing her best to ignore the ticklish sensation working its way up her arm, the feel of his warm lips on her skin.

  From her earlier up close encounter with the man, she knew he was ridiculously tall, broad shouldered, and leanly muscled, but she wasn’t prepared for just how big he actually was. The confined space was too small for the two of them and decidedly uncomfortable with her sandwiched between him and the wall. Her discomfort intensified when he removed her hand and brought his mouth to her ear, the ticklish sensation morphing into a full-out body shiver. Which, from the glint in his eyes as he looked into hers, he hadn’t missed.

  Wonderful, just wonderful. How was she supposed to explain her reaction? She could tell him the truth—he was the first man she’d rubbed against in over a year. Right, as if she’d tell him that.

  “Fancy meeting you here, love.” His mouth quirked.

  His sexy accent and grin ignited a warm tingle in a place that hadn’t tingled in a very long time. Oh good grief, she was as bad as her sister. But seeing as how she’d been in a spell as dry as the Mojave Desert, she couldn’t blame her girl parts for their undiscriminating taste.

  She scowled at him, shoving lightly on his chest in hopes the slight distance would cool her off. It didn’t, but the sound of Molly and a man talking in the hall did. Cat inched her way around him, her back to his chest, and pressed her eye to the door.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Shush,” she murmured, straining to make out what the couple were saying, or at the very least, discover to whom the male voice belonged. Youngish and pleading was all she got. She regretted her decision to search Molly’s dressing room, and not only because she was enveloped by Harry’s muscles and his overpowering cologne. If she’d hung out in the hall, she’d have her other suspect and wouldn’t have to explain what she’d been doing in Molly’s dressing room to his lordship. After she found out what he was doing here.

  As the door started to open, Harry wrapped his arms around her, drawing her away from the louvers. He must have heard her huff a ticked-off breath as once again he lowered his mouth to her ear. “She’ll see you. I did.”

  Cat wasn’t able to respond. Molly stepped into her dressing room, disappointingly alone. The redhead flipped on the light, then tossed an oversized bag on the floor beside the coffee table before walking across the room—thankfully in the opposite direction. Cat remembered seeing Harry pick up a clipping and reached behind her. His fingers closed around her wrist before she dipped hers in his pocket. Her body reacted to the strength and size of his hand with another annoying zing. She tipped her head to arch a questioning eyebrow at the same time he lowered his. She bumped the back of her skull on his chin. He stifled her unintentional ouch behind his hand. She froze as Molly turned and scanned the room. Cat pressed deeper into Harry’s embrace, afraid he was right and Molly would see her.

  She sagged against him when the redhead returned her attention to the makeup table, withdrew something from the drawer, and headed for the bathroom. Cat prayed she’d shut the door so they could sneak out, but she didn’t. Molly turned on the water and began singing the theme song to As the Sun Sets. Cat had to come up with a plan. She couldn’t remain in the cramped closet with his lordship until the actress was called to block out today’s scene.

  Removing Harry’s hand from her mouth, she pulled her sister’s confiscated cell phone from her pocket. Molly was making enough noise to muffle the sound of Cat texting, but to be on the safe side, she shuffled around until she faced Harry’s wide chest. She bit her bottom lip at the feel of a particular part of his male anatomy pressed snug against her. Obviously, she hadn’t thought this through. Her brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders today.

  Then she reminded herself he was gay, and it wouldn’t faze him. Which was good, ’cause it was kind of fazing her. Ignoring the telling clench in her stomach, she accessed her sister’s e-mail account and sent Molly a message from Chloe. An invite to meet the new cast member. Molly’s cell beeped… in the bag on the floor beside the coffee table. Cat glanced up to see Harry smiling down at her.

  Jolly good try, he mouthed.

  She rolled her eyes and called Molly instead, blocking the number. At the ringing of the actress’s cell, the water shut off. Harry gave her a thumbs-up along with one of his tingle-inducing smiles. Just as Molly reached her bag, Cat disconnected and prayed the actress would read her sister’s e-mail. Which she did; only Molly didn’t immediately race from the room as Cat had hoped. She muttered, “Yeah right, bitch.”

  Cat should have included a picture of Harry or a video clip of him talking. Since she hadn’t, and couldn’t, she quickly sent another e-mail. This one guaranteed to get a reaction from Molly. I know what you’ve done. You won’t get away with it, she typed.

  It was a risky move, but if Molly assumed Chloe was talking about the incident with the chandelier, as Cat hoped she would, maybe the actress would do or say something to implicate herself. Cat looked over her shoulder. With Molly’s back to the closet, she couldn’t gauge her reaction. Then the actress grabbed her bag, shoved the phone into it, and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind her.

  Cat and his lordship did an awkward little dance as they both tried to get out of the closet at the same time. Apparently he was as anxious as her to end their forced confinement. She shoved him. “Go, go.”

  “That was close,” he said as he exited the closet, straightening his jacket. “Whatever did you say to her?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What were you doing here?”

  He scratched the back of his neck, a splash of color deepening the tanned skin at his cheeks. “I thought it was my dressing room. Phil pointed me in this direction.”

  “Molly’s name is on the door.”

  “Which was unlocked, as Phil informed me it would be. So I assumed—”

  “If it was an honest mistake, why didn’t you say as much to Molly instead of hiding in the closet?”

  “You mean the closet you were occupying at the time?”

  Annoyed by the way her stomach fluttered in reaction to that deep, accented voice, Cat headed for the door. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was looking for Chloe’s favorite pair of Louboutins. She thinks Molly stole them.”

  “Ah, well, I can understand the need for skulking about, then. Did you find them?”

  Opening the door, she peeked into the hall to make sure no one was around. “No, I didn’t. What about you? Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked casually, hoping to trip him up.

  “As I was in the wrong dressing room, no, I did not. Perhaps you could direct me. I’d prefer not to bother Phil again.” He joined her in the hall, his hands in his pockets.

  “Sorry, no idea. But you might want to return whatever you stole from Molly’s dressing room.” She nodded through the open door at the coffee table.

  “Kit Kat, you wound me. I’m not a thief.”

  She closed the door. “Not buying it, your lordship. I saw you put something in your pocket.”

  He removed his hands and raised his arms. “Check for yourself.” There was a challenge in his eyes, one that was at odds with his relaxed demeanor.

  So she took him up on it and searched the pockets of his jacket. When she found nothing but a piece of lint, she patted him down. Fighting an urge to kick herself as her hands skimmed over his hard-muscled torso.

  “You’re very good at this. One would almost think you were an officer of the law.”

  “Been patted down before, your lordship?”

  �
��Well, there was this delicious—”

  “Sharing’s overrated. You can keep that little tidbit to yourself.” She held up the tea bags she discovered in the inner pocket of his jacket. They weren’t exactly incriminating, but still…

  “I’m a tea aficionado, love. I don’t go anywhere without my favorite brand. Nothing but the best for me. Now, we should probably get back to your adorable sister. I’ve left her in my manager’s company long enough, don’t you think?”

  * * *

  “I’m in love.” Ty sighed, standing on the sidelines with Cat as they watched the last of Harry and Chloe’s reunion scene. “Did I tell you how divine his hair is? A gorgeous, thick mane of mocha magnificence.”

  Only about twenty times. She was getting sick of hearing how perfect Lord Harry was. Everyone loved him, including her sister. “He probably dyes it and has plugs.”

  “Sheathe your claws, Pussy. You’re still my favorite.” Ty grinned and slung his arm around her shoulders. He gave her an exuberant squeeze. “It’s so good to have you here. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m glad that little incident with the chandelier changed your mind.”

  She leaned back to look at him. “Why do you think that’s the reason I changed my mind?” Was she wrong about Molly? Could Ty have been the one who set it up so she’d stay?

  “Give me some credit. I know how protective you are of Chloe. Though I have no idea why. That little barracuda is perfectly capable of looking out for herself.”

  “It’s not why I stayed, Ty. My job offer fell through. And it’s not like there’s anything to protect Chloe from. It was an accident.”

  He chuckled quietly. “Other than Miss Molly. What set her off today? I bumped into her coming from your sister’s dressing room breathing fire.”

  Cat had missed all the action and her chance to catch Molly’s reaction to the e-mail. Since her sister didn’t know anything about the message, she’d been baffled. And mortified that Dame Alexander had witnessed such an embarrassing scene. Honestly, Cat didn’t know how much longer she could put up with his lordship and ladyship—or her sister, who insisted he was the one. Chloe hadn’t been amused when Cat asked one what?