The Ultimate Romantic Suspense Set (8 romantic suspense novels from 8 bestselling authors for 99c)

by Lee Taylor

  I turn in his direction, almost startled by his appearance. “Yes,” I tell him and show him the black case to confirm my answer.

  “Good. Got Speck waiting in a room next to the showers.”

  “What happened to the library?” I ask.

  “Can’t get there. Have to do it here. Right now. While everybody’s star gazing. Speck’s clean and sober. Got his lover with him. Time’s right. Should be safe once that camera out there starts rolling. You come with me, Mike.”

  “Me?” Mike says, visibly surprised by the request.

  I jump in, “He doesn’t want any part of it.”

  “Can’t do it without you, Mike. It’s gotta be you. Can’t let Carly do it.” We stand in a tight little circle next to some camera equipment, just behind the director and the AD. Fortunately, everyone in this building is getting ready for the scene to start so their total focus is on the set-up and not on us.

  “What do you mean, can’t let me in? I’m already in.”

  Captain Bob guides us away from anyone who might overhear what we’re saying and continues. “Too dangerous for you, Carly. Warden’s having the entire crew watched and accounted for. Don’t want no repeat of yesterday’s action. He wants you guys out of here ASAP, so the guards are gonna stick to your backs. Make your life miserable until you’re done. Got some of us pulling double shifts just to watch you folks.”

  “I’ll take the risk,” I tell him.

  “I won’t. Gotta be Mike. You go missing, Carly, and somebody will notice. Might blame me. Can’t afford the questions. Not many women on this crew. Can count ‘em on one hand, but there’s plenty of men to go around. Nobody will miss Mike for a long time. The more I thought about it, the more sure I was that things could happen with Speck that you don’t want to see. He might get a kick out of making your stomach turn. Man don’t like women, remember? Don’t know what he might do now that he’s met you. Wouldn’t want to see your picture end up on his wall along with the others.”

  I’m angry now, confused about what to say. A cacophony of voices go off in my head. Mike seems dazed, unable to speak. I stand my ground. “This is bullshit. I have questions. I want—”

  “Don’t matter what you want. The important thing is to get this thing made, right? We’re running out of time. We have to move fast. Speck is waiting. You ready, Mike?”

  Mike takes a step back, away from the Captain and says, “Like I care that Speck is waiting. I tried to talk Carly out of this. I don’t think you’re on the level, so I’m sure as hell not going to take her place.”

  “Look, either you guys want to change Speck’s life in here or you don’t. Simple as that. Whether you trust me or not, don’t matter.”

  Captain Bob seems adamant. I have to think fast. Demand that Mike do it. “If I can’t go in there, Mike, then you have to.”

  Mike turns on me, “I don’t have to do anything. My only obligation this morning was to deliver fifty-five men to this movie set. I deal in fantasy. Since when was it assumed that I moved over to reality? Give it up, Carly. This guy is crazy.”

  I pull the slip of white paper out of my pocket and try to hand it to Mike. Time to appeal to the Boy Scout. “Please do this for me. You’ve always known what I needed and just did it. Like the other night in my room. You knew I was in trouble and you reacted even though I didn’t want your help. Now I’m begging for it. If you can’t do it for me, than do it for those families you saw on our first day here. They deserve to know the truth. Get a reason why he did it. Maybe even an apology from the bastard. We all need to go on with our lives.”

  My hand quivers as I hold the folded sheet of paper. Somehow that speech came up from my soul. Sincerity wrapped in steel. Letting my guard down. Pleading for a favor.

  Mike looks down at the paper, but won’t touch it. He looks back up at me and stares into my eyes. For a moment, a flash, I see all his weakness, all his love. It’s the look the Captain gave his wife on the porch. The look my dad gave my mom every day when I was growing up—before the nurses were killed. Before he changed. I’m a little frightened to see it in Mike. Then, as if he can sense my awareness, he looks at the Captain and says, “Hell, what’s ten years off my life? Anything for your woman, right?” The Captain doesn’t respond.

  Suddenly Mike grabs me and kisses me hard on the lips like a man going off to battle. “If we get away with this, it’s going to cost you, big-time,” he whispers and takes the piece of paper from my hand.

  I just look at him. Can’t seem to form any words.

  “Let’s go,” Captain Bob mutters.

  Mike shoves my question into his pants pocket and tries to imitate Bogie, “Here’s looking at you, kid.” He picks up the camera case.

  “Thanks,” I tell him.

  “Quiet, please,” says the AD. “Roll sound.”

  “Speed,” says the mixer.

  Mike and Captain Bob make their way down the ramp that will take them to the showers and to Speck.

  “Roll camera.”

  “Rolling.”

  I look around to see if anyone, namely a guard, has noticed them. No one has. Everyone is intent on Belushi and Arnold.

  “Marker,” says the AD.

  “Scene 16A. Take 1.” The distinctive snap of the clapper echoes through the building.

  “Action,” says the director.

  “Action,” I quietly repeat, as Mike and the Captain disappear from my view.

  Twenty-one

  Arnold walks on camera, Belushi by his side. Belushi speaks, “You. Come here. This is Captain Ivan Danko. He’s come all the way from Russia to speak to your group leader.”

  A black actor, dressed in inmate blues answers. “Well that’s nice, but who the fuck are you?”

  Arnold says, “This man have no respect for our authority as police officers.”

  Belushi says, “No shit.”

  There’s a pause in the action. Jim and Arnold relax. I’m pacing, watching each minute slip by. Waiting for Mike and the Captain to return. I can’t seem to concentrate on anything but what might be going on down in the shower room. Somebody says something and the group breaks up with laughter. I wish I could have heard it. I’m in desperate need of a good laugh. I figure it must be Arnold cracking jokes. He’s great with the men. They love him. The perfect inmate idol.

  Whenever the camera stops rolling the room explodes into a great thunder of noise. It’s given me a migraine. Concentrating on the pain of it helps the time pass.

  Most of the cells are empty for the scene, but I can only imagine what it must sound like when all the inmates are locked inside their cells, all two hundred and some, calling to one another, radios blaring, banging on the bars, or crying about some injustice.

  The thought of it causes my head to tighten.

  “Mr. Schwarzenegger sure is a card, isn’t he?” Vivian says to me right after Arnold gets the men to laugh again. Actually, I have to admit that he’s been exceptional with the guys, as well as with us, but a card? What decade did this woman escape from?

  “Yeah, he’s a card all right.”

  “And that wife of his, Maria Shriver. What a handsome couple they make. I heard she’s here visiting him.”

  “More like keeping an eye on him.”

  “Oh, dear. A ladies’ man, huh?”

  “I never said that,” but the agreeing smirk is already on my face.

  There were some nasty rumors from some of our extras while we filmed at the Maxwell Street Police station, but I tried not to pay attention. One rumor got me though, from one of our office girls. Supposedly Arnold told her that he could tell the color of her pubic hair from the color of the hair on the back of her neck. I thought it was a pretty original pick-up line, but Mike said the girl had a vivid imagination and he couldn’t believe Arnold could possibly be that bold.

  Actually, if you want to stay in this business you have to overlook a lot of indiscretions on the part of the talent or you can give up ever working in the film industry. Mik
e fired the nasty-rumor-girl before we drove up here. Can’t afford to have somebody like her around, he said. And with the way things have been going, it was a good idea.

  Vivian moves closer to the set to better watch Arnold as he gets ready to leave for the day. She’s a distraction for me and I find myself thinking about Vivian and not about Mike and Speck. My headache begins to subside as I notice everyone watching Arnold. Some of the extras even approach him for his autograph. I find it somewhat amazing the control he has over the crowd. Super Star Power wherever he goes. Must be hell going out for a quiet dinner with the wife.

  When we finally break for the day, I give the inmates a short pep talk. “It’s very important for each of you guys to be back here on time tomorrow, especially if you were in the scene today. You did some great work. Looked real good out there. And those of you who didn’t get on today, tomorrow will probably be your lucky day. Please return here tomorrow morning by nine o’clock. Thanks.” As if my enthusiasm over the making of a movie could ever stop any of these nasty-boys from killing each other in the lunchroom.

  Yeah, right. That would be Mike’s illusion, not mine.

  The men are escorted down a hallway. Shoulder to shoulder. Two in a row. Tough dudes. Nasty characters wearing prison blues. Some have a jive to their gait, others walk as if they’re in the military, still others hardly move their feet at all. More of a shuffle. Murderers. Rapists. Drug dealers. Society’s finest just left the building.

  It’s been almost five hours since Mike and Captain Bob left me here in limbo with Miss Vivian and neither one has returned. I feel drained. Exhausted. As if I’ve just done something of tremendous physical stress. I don’t know if they’re still down there, taping. I couldn’t keep an eye on the ramp because the extras needed my attention. “I’m going home,” I tell Vivian who is still enchanted watching Arnold flex his muscles as he walks towards the exit to his trailer.

  “Hmm. Oh, sure. He’s fine. I mean, I’m fine. Just fine. They seem to be done here for the day anyway. I’ll be going myself in a little while. See you tomorrow,” she whispers but doesn’t look my way. Too busy concentrating on her dream.

  I’m escorted out by another guard. A guard I haven’t met before. We don’t talk except for a few cordial exchanges. I desperately search for Mike and Captain Bob as I walk, but no sign of either one.

  When I get back to my motel room and open the door, Mike is inside lying across my bed watching an old episode of The Andy Griffith Show. Laughing.

  “Aunt Bea was a very smart lady,” he says. “I don’t think the world appreciates just how smart she was. She knew exactly what to say to Andy to get him to do just about anything she wanted.”

  “Aunt Bea had a script to follow. Life is easy with a script.” My bottle of Jack Daniel’s sits on the night stand next to Mike. I walk over to him and pick up the bottle. It’s almost empty. “I thought you only drank milk?”

  “I forgot. Had some of your bourbon. Great stuff, bourbon, once you get used to the taste. Kind of sweet. Matter-of-fact, we’re running out. I’ll go get us some more.” He starts to get up. I can tell he’s drunk. Never seen Mike drunk. He looks pathetic.

  “No, that’s okay. We don’t need any right now. You lie back down and watch Opie and Aunt Bea.”

  “But I need some more.” He grabs the bottle and pours the last of it into a glass, spilling some on the bed. “Oops! Sorry ‘bout that. Oh, but this is a motel room isn’t it? Somebody else will clean it up. That’s good. Wouldn’t want you to have to clean up my mess.” He puts the bottle back down on the nightstand. “You know what? This stuff is pretty good. I’ve grown quite fond of it. Milk just doesn’t have the punch that this stuff has. And what I need right now is a punch. A punch right in the face. Go ahead. Give it all you’ve got. Right here.” He points to his chin. “Make it a good one. Punch my fucking face in, will you?”

  I take the drink from his hand and ease him back down on the pillow. He’s a mess. His clothes are damp and wrinkled. His face covered with sweat. I’ve never seen him like this before. Weak. Vulnerable. Wasted.

  “Why don’t I get us something to eat? I bet you’re starving.” I’m hoping some food will sober him up. Turn him back into the Mike I know. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I understand men like Speck. Know the darkness that fills their hearts. Mike is a baby when it comes to evil. He has no concept of it. Whatever happened in that room today may be too much for him to deal with in one dose.

  He finally says, “Nope. I want to get drunk and then still drunker, like you do.”

  “But if we’re both drunk who’s going to come in and save us? One of us has to be sane.”

  “Why? Who cares?”

  “I care.”

  “You don’t care. You say you care, but you don’t care. Not really. You’re not capable. You used to be. Maybe. Once. But not anymore. Now you’re just a cold-hearted bitch.”

  I stand up, pushing him away from me. The drink spills out on the bed. He tries to wipe it up with his hand. “Now see what you’ve done. My last drink. You don’t even care that it’s my last drink. Heartless.”

  I light up a smoke and say, “Speck got to you, didn’t he? Made you mean.”

  He looks up at me. “So what! You’ve been mean for months now. I keep waiting for you to get nice again, be reasonable, but you never do. Mean and cold. Now you say I’m mean. Well, don’t that just nail it. You should love me now. I’m just like you. Even stood up hot little Tiffany. Never stood anybody up before. She wants me, you know.”

  “What happened today?”

  “Today? I need another drink, that’s what happened today.”

  “I’ve got another bottle out in the car, first tell me what happened. Did you get anything taped at all?”

  Mike laughs. “Did you know that it’s possible for two men to fuck facing each other? I bet you didn’t know that, did you? Well, neither did I. Yep, one of them lies down with his legs way up by his head so that his asshole… Of course, Speck does have quite a set of tits. Don’t even go flat when he lies down. His partner sure did seem to like those puppies. Kept grabbing at ‘em, like they were rubber.”

  “They had sex in front of you?”

  “If that’s what you want to call it.”

  “Was the camera rolling?”

  “Never stopped.”

  “Of course, in between sex acts, there was some conversation about the cars he’s owned, the schools he’s attended, all the coffee he drinks, oh and yeah, ‘what’s done is done—life goes on—as long as I’m having fun.’ I thought you would especially like that one. Oh and he likes to wear blue silk panties. Where does a guy get blue silk panties inside a maximum security prison? Can he barter his hootch? And if he does, with who? I’ve been asking myself that one all day.”

  It’s hard for me to stay calm. I want to scream. Need to hit something. Someone. But I contain the hate for Mike’s sake. “Why didn’t you come and get me when you finished taping? I kept looking for you all afternoon.”

  “I didn’t think to. Just wanted a shower. A hot shower.” He rolls over on his back. “The water’s not very hot here. And the pressure stinks. Matter of fact, I think I’m going to drive back home right now so I can take a good hot shower.” He tries to get up. I push him back down. His clothes make sense now.

  “Why don’t you get out of those clothes first. They’re soaked.” I start unbuttoning his shirt and he tries to help but his fingers can’t remember the moves. I get his shirt off. He gets out of his pants. I stop him when he goes for his underwear. Don’t need him to be naked right now. I help him over to the other bed and cover him with a clean white sheet.

  I want to cry. Just let go and ball. I can feel my eyes burn from the sting of it, but now’s not the time. Can’t let Mike see any weakness. Any hint of emotion over this.

  “You rest for a minute. We’ll drive back together, later.”

  He doesn’t argue but rather settles in. He looks like a sick little boy
with a fever. Way too much reality for Mike’s world. I should have never let him do this.

  Ask him, Carly. You have to know what happened. Ask him before he falls asleep.

  “You going to tell me what else he said,” I ask.

  “No. You can watch the video.”

  “Did you get to my question?” I persist.

  “According to Captain Bob, ‘we ain’t got enough yet’.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means no, I didn’t even look at what you gave me. We’re going to tape the freak again. I’ll get to your stuff later.”

  Part of me wants to tell him not to do it. To let it go, but I can’t. They’re depending on me.

  “You going to tell me what went on today?”

  He looks at me, sobriety slipping in. “Carly, you really don’t want to know what happened in that room today. These guys are at the bottom of the food chain. They’re not really human. They may look like they are, but they’re not. They’re worse than anything you can imagine, or see in a movie. The movies don’t do these guys justice.”

  “That was your imagination. Mine has already seen what murderers can do, remember?”

  “You’ve just seen the aftermath. I watched him up close. Talked to him. Listened while he answered the Captain’s questions. He wore makeup today, eye makeup. When I walked into that little storage room, there he was in clean, white painter’s overalls looking like some street walker excited about her next trick. Couldn’t wait to get started, to show off in front of the camera. Pose naked. Show off his tits, his almost non-existent dick. I’m glad you weren’t there.” Mike leans over on his elbow and looks at me.

  “When are you taping again? When can you get to—?”

  “Tomorrow. Today was Captain Bob’s day. He had Speck and his lover talk about the guards mostly, at least I think that’s who they were talking about. Guards who were good to the inmates, brought in their drugs and alcohol. Didn’t give them a rough time. Also asked some questions about the other guards. The ones they didn’t like. Who they’d like to see dead. How they sometimes had to wait around for their booze and shit to come in because these other more honest guards would get in the way. They really don’t like that.