Regan Reilly Boxed Set 1

by Carol Higgins Clark

  Cody rubbed his eyes. He’d barely slept. What was he going to tell Dean? He’d already put him through the wringer. He and Dean had so many plans for their short film, a film that they were sure would put them on the map. Plans that were almost derailed three months ago when Cody called Dean from jail. Dean hadn’t taken the news well.

  “You were thrown in jail because of unpaid traffic tickets?” he’d screamed.

  “I also had a little problem with my insurance and expired license.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I was trying to clear things up. Remember that movie I worked on last year in Texas? I hated every minute of it. I ended up getting a lot of traffic tickets. They piled up. I flew down here to get things straightened out and was going to fly right back but the judge wasn’t happy with me because I missed a court date. So he threw me in the slammer.”

  “For how long?”

  “Sixty days.”

  “Sixty days! What about our movie? We wanted to shoot it in January! It’s set at a ski lodge in Vermont, for God’s sake! My friend is lending us his house. He’s not going to let us use it all winter. Cody, we wanted this movie to be ready to show at the film festivals in the spring.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be out before Christmas.”

  “What am I going to tell people? We’re co-directing this!”

  “Tell them I’m off tinkering with the script.”

  “What about Abigail?”

  “I can’t tell her. If she finds out I’m in jail, she’ll want her money back now. I paid off my credit cards, and my court fines were high. Whew! Really high. She’ll sabotage our film. Listen, the IOU isn’t up until January. I’ll worry about it then. Hey man, we’re going to do so well with this film, I’ll pay her back with big interest. A little late, but I’ll pay her back.”

  “Yeah, sure. What if she calls me?”

  “She doesn’t have your number. She doesn’t know where our apartment is, only that it’s in Malibu. How many times did you see her, once after we met? She won’t know how to find you. When you think about it, it turns out to be a good thing she was away on location so much after we started dating. When she was home, we wanted to be alone.”

  “Your long-distance romance brought tears to my eyes.”

  So while Cody was in jail lifting weights, Dean ran himself ragged handling all the logistics of the project. He set up an office in his mother’s basement in Fort Lee, New Jersey. He cast New York actors. He was running low on money but found investors in Los Angeles who wanted to meet both directors before they handed over their checks. That’s why Cody had to risk being back in Los Angeles for a few days. Dean had borrowed a friend’s loft for Cody to stay in downtown. Cody was supposed to keep out of sight except when he had to surface for work related appearances. Kind of like Lois’s hands.

  The movie was scheduled to start shooting next week.

  Clad in his boxer shorts, his physique rippling with muscles he’d built up in jail, Cody decided he’d better try to eat something. He strode to the kitchen, a large space with gleaming granite counters, state-of-the-art pots and pans hanging from a rack above the center island, and an eight-burner stove fit for a professional chef. What a joint, Cody thought as he poured himself a bowl of cereal and cut up a banana. A friend of Dean’s had bought this place before it was renovated but was hardly ever there. He spent most of his time in New York.

  Cody sat at the counter and started to eat. Out of jail for almost a month, it still felt good not to have to eat with a plastic spoon. But at the moment he still felt like a prisoner. That would end as soon as they got the rest of the seed money and headed out of town. And once the movie was in the can, everything with Abigail could be worked out.

  The sound of a key in the door made him flinch.

  “Hello,” Dean called cheerlessly as he let himself in. Three seconds later he appeared in the kitchen. The sight of Cody’s brawny chest and arms annoyed him to no end. As usual, Cody would continue to be the one to attract women. Dean felt like a nebbish. He knew that he was scrawny, nondescript, and nothing to swoon over. That’s why he was so anxious to prove himself with this movie. The script he and Cody had written together was funny and scary and clever. If he could put up with Cody for the next several months it would all be worth it.

  “Hey,” Cody said. “You want some cereal?”

  “No, I’ve already had a bran muffin. What’s wrong?”

  “What do you mean ‘What’s wrong?’”

  “I can tell something’s up.”

  Cody cleared his throat. “As a matter of fact…”

  Dean threw down his bag, a bag filled with notes and files and scripts and every last scrap of information having to do with the movie. “I can’t take it!”

  “Take what? You don’t even know what I have to tell you.”

  “Let me tell you something, Cody. I’ve been working my butt off to keep this project going. I just want to get it done. I’m at the point where I don’t know what I’d do to someone if they tried to stop it!” The veins in his throat were bulging. His hair was falling in his face. His slitty eyes looked bloodshot.

  “Chill out,” Cody said. “It might not be so bad. Last night I went to have a beer at the place on the corner. Who did I see but Abigail’s friend sitting right there. The one with the gloves.”

  Dean slapped his hand on the counter. Another bad memory! The night at the bar when he’d had to listen to her talk about how her hands were really two little actresses she’d named Meryl and Angelina, while Cody was whispering sweet nothings in Abigail’s ear. He’d wanted to scream. Now Dean felt like he was at the end of his rope. “That woman is insane! What were you doing out? I told you not to go anywhere!”

  “I was in jail for sixty days. I get cabin fever very easily.”

  “You’ve been out of jail for weeks. This was only going to be a few days of house arrest!”

  Cody’s new cell phone rang. It was over by the bed across the room. “If you’ll excuse me,” he muttered.

  “Don’t answer it if you don’t recognize the number!” Dean barked.

  Cody grabbed the phone off the bed and when he saw who was calling, he knew it wouldn’t make Dean happy. It was Stella. Gorgeous Stella whom Dean had gotten to read the script. Stella Gardner, who was a hot young actress getting more famous by the minute. She was on a series that filmed in New York and had been interested in playing the lead but like the investors, wanted to meet the other director first. When Cody was sprung from jail, he’d flown to New York where Dean had set up a meeting for the three of them. She’d promptly fallen in love with Cody. He was barely out of his orange jumpsuit and she was inviting him to spend a quiet Christmas with her mother and father on their ranch in Texas. He would have gone anywhere with her, even to the state where he’d just been incarcerated. And he did.

  “Hello there,” he said, trying not to sound too mushy. At this point it was no good rubbing it in Dean’s face. He mouthed “Stella” to Dean, who rolled his eyes.

  “Well, hello yourself,” Stella purred. “I just miss you too much.”

  “Me, too,” Cody said. “Uh, Dean’s here. We’re just working away.”

  “Well, I’ve got great news. I just wrapped for today and I’m not working again until Friday. Then we’ll be off to Vermont! But I can’t wait that long to see you. I’m flying out tonight so we can be together.”

  Cody’s stomach dropped. Stella’s series was becoming more and more popular. With all those gossip show reporters lurking around every corner, there was no way he could stay out of sight if they were together. As it was, he’d been telling her in New York that they shouldn’t go public with their relationship just yet. Not until the movie finished shooting. It would seem like she got the job because she was the director’s girlfriend, blah blah blah. “I don’t know whether that’s such a good idea.”

  “Don’t you miss me?”

  “Of course. Of course I do. I just don’t know
if I’ll be able to pay enough attention to you. We have so much to still get done. And Dean has been working so hard.” Cody hurried back to the kitchen and jotted the words SHE WANTS TO FLY OUT on a piece of paper.

  Dean read it, sunk onto a stool, and put his head down.

  “He was working hard but so were you. You were all by your lonesome toiling away on that great script,” Stella said sweetly. “I can’t tell you how much I admire that. Cody, I really want to see you.”

  Cody swallowed hard. Stella was the reason Dean had been able to line up more investors. But she thought they had all the money in place. If she dropped out now, they’d have no movie. He had to do what she wanted. “Okay then. Did you book a flight?”

  “Yes. It leaves New York at six and gets in a little after nine—Voyager Airways. I can’t wait to fly into your arms! And I can’t wait to see what that downtown loft is like. The way you described it on the phone last night made it sound fabulous! Downtown Los Angeles is getting more and more exciting.”

  “It sure is,” Cody agreed. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  3

  Back at her loft, Regan hung her jacket in the closet and kicked off her damp shoes. It was so good to be home, at least for a few hours. Walking through the living room, she smiled at the sight of a favorite wedding picture. She and Jack were coming down the aisle of the church, her arm through his, both looking so happy. In the pews, their friends and families were clapping for them. At the time, Regan had been thinking that she should have been the one leading the applause.

  Meeting Jack was truly a miracle, Regan thought as she headed into the kitchen. And the more I hear about guys like Cody Castle, the more Jack feels like the Miracle of the Century. I’m sorry it took Dad being kidnapped, she thought, but he loved to take credit for bringing Jack into her life. It had become one of his favorite stories. As head of the NYPD Major Case Squad, Jack had been in charge of the investigation. In the process of getting Luke back, he and Regan had fallen in love.

  Regan filled the kettle with water and as she waited for it to boil, her thoughts once again focused on Cody Castle. What did he expect to get away with by taking that money from Abigail and then disappearing? If he were really making a movie, then how could he expect to avoid Abigail forever? Hollywood was a small town and she was in the business. What was he doing in downtown Los Angeles? Had he been there the whole time? After Abigail had called her in the fall, Regan had Googled Cody Castle but hadn’t come up with anything significant about the Cody Castle she was interested in.

  When the kettle started to shriek, Regan fixed her tea then walked down the hall to her office. She sat at her computer, logged on, and found a flight that left for Los Angeles at 6:00 P.M. on Voyager Airways. So far, it hadn’t been delayed.

  She called Abigail and gave her the details. “I’ll be there, Regan. I can’t thank you enough. For some reason I feel like my whole life is on the line.”

  The words gave Regan a funny feeling. “It’s not your whole life, Abigail. If she has to, your grandmother will get over it.”

  “You haven’t met Grandma.”

  “No, but I guess I will.”

  “She’s packing her bags as we speak. Thank God she’s staying with Margaret. They’re so excited that they’re going to be spending time together. We’re going to have to make something up about why you’re around.”

  “I know. Don’t worry.”

  Regan hung up and called Jack, figuring she’d just leave a message. To her surprise, he answered.

  “Regan!” he said. “We just broke for lunch. How’s it going?”

  “Okay. I have a few things to tell you, some may surprise you.”

  “Uh-oh. I’m all ears.”

  “First of all, I rented a storage unit in Long Island City and have already started moving files there.”

  Jack laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me. I knew you had it in you.”

  “Second, I could barely sleep last night without you here.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me either. I didn’t sleep so well myself.”

  “And third of all, I’m flying to Los Angeles tonight.”

  “What?”

  “Gotcha.” Regan laughed. She’d already told him about Abigail’s calls in the fall. “I heard from Abigail again,” she began, then explained to him what was happening now.

  “So what are you going to do if you find this guy?”

  “I have the feeling that Abigail will do whatever it takes to get him to hand over the money. If he still has it.” Regan sighed. “She’s pretty upset about the thought of her grandmother finding out she lent anyone that money.”

  “Regan, be careful. You don’t know what this guy is capable of or who he might be hanging out with.”

  “I know. We’ll be careful.”

  “You couldn’t stay home alone without me?” Jack teased.

  “That’s right. This is all your fault.”

  “Don’t let your mother get that idea.”

  “In her book, you can do no wrong.”

  Jack’s voice turned serious. “How long will you be there?”

  “I won’t stay more than a week. One way or another it will have to be over by then. If Abigail doesn’t get the money, I can’t imagine she’ll be able to stall her grandmother much more than that. She’s arriving tomorrow.”

  “I hope you find him, get the money, and are home by the weekend.”

  “Me, too. Believe me.”

  When Regan hung up, she tried her mother’s cell phone.

  “Hi, honey,” Nora said. “I hear you’re getting some snow up there.”

  “A bit. But I’m flying to Los Angeles.”

  “What?”

  Sitting by the pool at the Breakers Hotel, Nora listened intently. “Regan, isn’t Abigail the one who thinks she’s cursed? The one who everything happens to?”

  Why did I ever tell her that? Regan wondered. “Yes, Mom. She’s the one.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “She needs my help. Can you imagine me ever having to tell Nana that I’d lent a hundred thousand dollars she’d given me to a guy, never mind one who then left me?”

  “I can’t believe you’d ever be that stupid, Regan.”

  “Thanks for your vote of confidence. Poor Abigail. She thought she’d finally found ‘The One’ and they had a future together. She’s a good soul. I barely knew her when she insisted on bringing me chicken soup when I had the flu last year. She had just moved in.”

  “Bringing chicken soup across the hall is one thing. Flying three thousand miles to hunt down her crazy ex-boyfriend is another.”

  “I didn’t pay her for the chicken soup. She’s paying me.”

  “Well, that’s something at least. It’s too bad Jack is away. You might not have said yes if he were around.”

  “Mom, you’re psychic. Jack knew he’d get the blame for this.”

  Nora laughed. “Regan!”

  “Is Dad there?”

  “He’s golfing.”

  “Give him my love. I’ve got to pack. I’ll call you from L.A.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Jack said the same thing. What a coincidence.”

  When Regan hung up, she called a car service and arranged for a pickup. She then pulled her suitcase out of the closet. Four hours later she was waiting in line to check her bags at the curb at Kennedy Airport. The beautiful young blonde standing in front of her looked familiar. Who is she? Regan wondered. Then it came to her. She was a new young actress who plays an investigator on one of the popular crime series. Regan had seen it once and had been impressed by her acting. Inwardly, Regan smiled. Maybe I should ask her what she’d do to hunt down Cody Castle.

  4

  Margaret Suspack was sitting at her dining room table, paying her bills, a cup of coffee, a crumb bun, and a calculator by her side. She wanted to get paperwork out of the way before her friend Ethel Feeney arrived tomorrow. Eighty-two years old, Margaret, known to her friends and fam
ily as Mugs, had a pleasant face, a roundish figure, hazel eyes, and a bouffant hairdo she kept in a soft shade of honey.

  After her husband, Harry, died a few years earlier, she’d been outraged by the number of snake oil salesmen who thought they could take advantage of her because she was alone. They couldn’t, and she’d developed an even steelier spine toward anyone who wanted her to part with her money. For any reason at all. And forget anyone who thought she was an easy target for a scam because she was elderly. She was prepared for them. The young man who called recently pretending to be her grandson and saying he was in trouble and needed her to wire money to people who were going to hurt him could never have expected her response. Mugs blew the whistle she kept by her bed in his ear. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself trying to fool old folks,” Mugs had sputtered before hanging up.

  Mugs had no children or grandchildren.

  Harry would have been proud of her, the way she was taking care of herself after he died, but he wouldn’t have been surprised—Mugs had always been thrifty and resourceful.