by Morgan
“About that,” David said. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. They felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. “It’s just that, we hadn’t met before, and I noticed that you already knew my name.”
Shaunna tilted her head. “Out of everything you noticed me doing today, knowing your name was the most memorable?”
David laughed. “Oh…did something else happen? I didn’t notice. I was too busy watching this chick throw all her boss’s clothes to the wolves.”
“Ex-boss,” Shaunna gleefully corrected. “I quit.”
“Obviously,” David remarked with a straight face, but it took tremendous effort.
“And I know who you are because Nathan talks about you all the time.” Shaunna poked her finger out and touched a bead of water that was teetering on the edge of his shoulder. It leapt onto her and seemed to dissolve like a bubble popping in slow motion.
“He does?” David was surprised to have the attention of the director. The two had a good history together, but really didn’t know each other all that well.
“Oh yeah, you and Michelle.” Feeling encouraged by David’s acceptance of her physical contact, she reached out to touch another bead of water. This time, the droplet was located in the center of his chest, right over his heart. “He’s deliriously happy to have cast you both. Says you two are going to make the picture really hum.”
David didn’t hear a word Shaunna said once she touched his chest. There was something about Nathan and Michelle humming something.
“I think he’s right,” Shaunna told him. “I think you two are doing a brilliant job so far, and the way he draws the very best from his actors, even Kyle, should look pretty good by the end of it.” Her expression darkened at the mention of her former client’s name.
David noticed and put his fingers around her arm, gripping her lightly. “What you did today was one of the bravest things I have ever seen.”
With his hot hand on her arm, she felt all the anxiety in her body melt away. She realized her natural defenses were coming down, as if his very touch was a cure.
She opened her mouth to thank him, but just then, the gate to the pool area opened and through it stepped two uniformed police officers. As they approached the couple in the pool, their gun belts and shoes squeaked in different keys. It sounded like an off-tune orchestra.
David and Shaunna watched curiously as the two cops paused near the pool’s edge, just a few inches away from them.
“Are you Shaunna Noble?” the male officer inquired, peering down.
“Yes,” she answered, completely baffled by their interest in her.
“Exit the pool, please,” the female officer commanded. “We’re going to need you to get dressed and come with us, ma’am.”
Chapter Seven
IN CALIFORNIA, SHAUNNA MIGHT HAVE BEEN hauled off to jail in her white bikini with the press in tow, but in Texas, there were still some remnants of southern hospitality intact. Additionally, the arresting officers received strict instructions from their sergeant about how to handle this particular case. With one of the most famous celebrities in the world directly involved in the incident, their supervisor made it crystal clear there was no room for error in Shaunna Noble’s apprehension.
The sergeant also made sure a female officer was involved in the arrest, and she dutifully followed Shaunna into her hotel room, watching impassively as the young publicist undressed completely and put on jeans and a blouse.
“Can you please tell me what I’m being arrested for?” Shaunna tried to keep her tone respectful, but she wasn’t likely to come across as antagonistic while trying to slide panties up her wet legs.
“Grand theft,” the officer replied, with no hint of emotion.
“What?” Shaunna was shell-shocked. How could she be charged with a felony? She racked her brain for the answer.
The officer removed a small notebook with a cacophony of more creaks and squeaks from her uniform. The action reminded Shaunna vaguely of a bored waitress about to rattle off the dinner specials. The woman was both pretty and fit, and she read with an airy voice that carried a hint of Oklahoma.
“You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the state. Do you understand your rights?”
“Yes.” Despite the fact that she was chilly from the pool, Shaunna broke into a sweat. It was one thing to hear this speech in any number of TV shows or movies. It was quite another when someone was reading it directly to you.
The officer turned a few pages of her notebook while Shaunna struggled to put her hair up with a tie.
“Did you take Kyle Petersen’s clothes and throw them to a group of fans?”
Shaunna was confused. How could that possibly constitute a felony offense?
“Yes, but…”
“And did you also throw his watch?”
Shaunna hesitated to respond as the reality of what she’d done finally hit home.
“It’s okay, honey. We have it on video…from three different angles.”
Shaunna said nothing. She understood she needed to invoke her rights and contact an attorney, as soon as possible. She sat down on the bed and slipped on her shoes, biting her bottom lip in an effort to keep her mounting fear at bay.
“It was a—” the officer referred to her notebook once again “—Louis Moinet watch.” She whistled. “Says here it was worth about eight hundred thousand dollars.” She flipped her book shut. Her case was closed.
The officer indicated for Shaunna to turn around, frisked her to be on the safe side, and then handcuffed the mortified young woman.
“That’s a pretty pricy fit you threw at your boyfriend.”
Shaunna was revolted at the thought. “He was my boss.” Her words dripped with disgust.
The officer chuckled as she opened the door and gently nudged Shaunna out into the hallway. “Doesn’t make it right.”
Shaunna was taken to the Harris County jail. The booking took three and a half hours, and then she was inspected and given a blue jumpsuit. She was told she would be allowed to make a phone call after she was completely processed. Additionally, she would not be allowed any visitors until the next day.
There was nothing Shaunna could do but wait…and think.
David swept down various hallways of the Radisson with his swim trunks dripping and his eyes looking as frazzled as his hair. He was going to return to his room, dress, and then find Nathan. But first, he had something more important to do.
“Excuse me, Officer…Ryan?” David found exactly what he’d hoped for—a male cop standing outside a room door, waiting. David looked from the man’s badge to his eyes, hopeful the encounter would go quickly and smoothly.
Ryan’s response was heavy and wooden. “Yes?”
“Will you please tell me where you’re taking her?”
The cop rolled his eyes. “Jail.”
David smiled, hoping to convey politeness. “I’m sorry. I’m not from here, sir…”
“Office-sir,” the cop interrupted with a grin of his own.
David began again, this time with a more serious tone. “This is my first time in Houston, Officer Ryan, and I don’t know where the jail is. Perhaps you could—”
“And what are you going to write it down with?” Ryan interrupted again. He waited for David to eyeball the gold pen he kept in his shirt pocket.
David was an excellent judge of character and understood the officer wasn’t just a jerk, but a brute that could be very dangerous if provoked. He looked down at their feet. Officer Ryan’s shoes were more like boots, and his own bare feet looked shockingly vulnerable by comparison.
“Perhaps,” David began again, “you could provide me with your business card. I know all officers carry them and…”
“I’m out,” he said slowly. “But I’m sure you can Google it.” Officer Ryan arrogantly fold
ed his arms.
“Good one, Officer.” David laughed cheerfully, but backed up to the other side of the hallway, where he leaned casually against the wall.
“Why don’t I just wait for your partner to come out? They’ve got to be nearly done by now. I’ll ask for her card. Surely you both can’t be out.”
Officer Ryan huffed through his nose. He reminded David of a bull, so much so that he briefly imagined the man might even charge. David had just enough time to wish he’d brought a towel to use like a matador before voices from the other side of the door confirmed his earlier prediction.
With a quick and practiced motion, the officer unsnapped the same pocket the gold pen was poking out of. He plucked out a thick “Government Cream” card with Sam D. Ryan printed boldly above a myriad of phone numbers, fax numbers, and e-mail addresses.
“Thank you,” David said as he took it on the fly. He knew an exit cue when he heard one, and he was just glad that he was walking and not running.
David went straight to his room and grabbed his phone. He called his director while he slid his shorts to the floor, where they would probably stay for the next two days.
Nathan cheerfully picked up on the first ring. “Hello, Mr. Quinn. What can I do for you?”
“Shaunna Noble’s been arrested.”
“When?” Nathan’s response was curt.
“Just now. They’re probably walking her out through the lobby as we speak.”
David heard only the click of the line.
He dressed as fast as he could and ran down to the parking lot, where he met a red-faced Nathan.
“Did you talk to her?” David asked, eager for any news on Shaunna’s state.
Nathan nodded solemnly. “Just before the police took her away. She asked me to call Michelle.”
David gave Nathan a business card with a gray sheriff’s star on it. “I assume they’re taking her to the county jail. Avoid talking to this guy if possible.”
“Keep it,” Nathan told him. “You’re coming with me.”
Chapter Eight
NATHAN BEGAN WALKING BRISKLY toward a royal blue El Camino. “Have you seen The Mexican?” he asked as they climbed in.
“With Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts?” David asked, somewhat confused.
“And James Gandolfini and Gene Hackman and J.K. Simmons. Well, this is the El Camino Brad Pitt rented when he got to Mexico. The one they shot half the movie in!”
David appreciated Nathan’s attempt to keep the conversation light. After all, any discussion the two men had about Shaunna would only have to be repeated when they reached Michelle at the Four Seasons.
“Really?” David looked up at the orange fringe in the windshield. He then quickly opened the glove box. “No gun?”
Nathan laughed. “I know. I should find a replica to keep in there.”
“I like the idea of practical movie memorabilia,” David replied.
“In that case, you’ll have to come see the rest of my moderately iconic vehicles.”
“You have more?” David was intrigued. The car from an under the radar movie like The Mexican could only belong in a truly eclectic collection. “How many moderately iconic vehicles do you have?”
“Four!” Nathan crowed. “I also have the London hackney cab from 28 Days Later and the nineteen-twenty-seven Buick Tom Hanks drove in Road to Perdition.”
“That’s only three.”
“I know. I saved my favorite for last. It’s the yellow paneled Jeep wagon Richard Dreyfuss kicked Bill Murray out of in What About Bob?” He was indeed proud of his acquisition.
The list did not disappoint, and Nathan only became more interesting to David as they spent more time together. David remembered being there the day Rick Baker taught Nathan a makeup trick by using a little motor oil to help fake blood retain a nice reflective sheen, even when the hot set lights started baking the corn syrup away. Nathan had always been a sponge, and he certainly knew his way around a camera as well as a sound board.
Nathan also apparently knew his way around the streets of Houston. They turned onto a wide boulevard, and David could see the tall Four Seasons a few blocks away.
“I know a guy in my old apartment building who owns the delivery van that Michael J. Fox surfed on in Teen Wolf,” David mentioned casually.
“No way! Does it run?”
“It did a few months ago.”
“What would he take for it?”
“I don’t know, but I bet you could get him to bite on any fair offer.”
“I was thinking eight thousand, if it’s got documentation and runs well.”
“Um…I was thinking more like five,” David revealed. “It smells like tacos and it leaks oil.”
“How about six? And you take a grand as a finder’s fee?”
David blinked. “I’ll shoot off a text.”
Nathan and David took the elevator to the top floor. It didn’t occur to either of them that Michelle would have been the one to vacate the lavish suite.
When Kyle opened the door, revealing an intoxicated sneer and a star-struck fangirl wearing a bedazzled cowboy hat, David knew they’d made an error.
“Oh. Hello, Kyle,” Nathan greeted the actor tolerably. “I’m looking for Michelle.”
“She’s down in room two oh two.” Kyle never took his eyes off David. “And what’s he doing here?”
Nathan looked at David and back again. “He’s with me, Kyle.”
“Did you know,” Kyle began slowly, but built steam as he tattled on David, “that while I was naked…with soap stinging my eyes…and trying to wave this guy and that hippie costumer of yours over to help me, they just waved back like we were passing each other in hot air balloons?” Kyle’s voice leapt up an octave as he waved his hands dramatically.
Nathan smirked.
“I’m sorry about that, Mr. Petersen,” David offered. “We really couldn’t tell what you were up to over there. If you wanted someone, why didn’t you just call?”
“Because that bitch threw my phone in the toilet!” Kyle shouted.
David’s heart pounded and his nostrils flared. His complete urge to immediately mash his fist into Kyle’s Beverly Hills-constructed nose was overwhelming…intoxicating. Instead, he allowed himself a few glorious gory daydreams as Nathan sternly concluded the exchange.
“I want to see you and Michelle on-set, day after tomorrow, and believe me, if I’m not convinced that you two can work together better than what I have seen so far, I will fold this production and go shoot my superhero movie.”
“I’ll be there,” Kyle grumbled, even as the door was closing.
Nathan and David got back into the elevator.
“I didn’t know you were interested in superhero movies.” David began a new conversation in an attempt to calm their frayed nerves.
“Usually I’m not,” Nathan answered. “But I had this idea for a funky period piece about a super heroine in the seventies. It’s like Jackie Brown meets Kill Bill.” Nathan had a slight shudder in his voice from the rush of adrenaline in his system.
“So, it’s a kickass girl flick in the age of disco?” David nodded his head. “I like it. Oh! Does she have a fro? She has to have a fro!”
“Hell yeah, she has a fro!” Nathan said. “And her signature move is to backhand the bad guys with brass knuckles!”
David shook his head with delirium. Nathan was going to score big with a campy retro romp, as long as he went for the R rating.
“What’s it called?” David was almost afraid to ask. Titles were key with retro cinema.
“BITCH SLAP!”
The elevator doors opened on the second floor, and David’s laughter preceded them into the hallway.
Michelle came to the door with her hair as soft as rose petals and her eyes just as red. “Nathan. David. What a nice surprise.”
“We’re sorry to come over unannounced, Michelle, but I wanted to talk to you in person. We wanted to see you. Shaunna was arrested, and…”
“He didn’t!” Michelle’s mouth and eyes flew open. “After all she’s done for him! I should go up there and put a stop to this right now!”
“No!” Both David and Nathan spoke quickly.
“Shaunna asked for you,” Nathan told her. “She needs your help, and going through Kyle is not the answer.”
Michelle sighed. “I can’t call my lawyer. Kyle’s already retained him.”
“She’s going to need a good one,” David supplied.
Michelle groaned. “I shouldn’t have written down my doubts about our marriage. He was too proud to be left by his wife, so he lashed out and blindsided me.”
David leaned in to address Michelle. They’d already filmed a few scenes together and were on friendly terms, but rarely spoke about anything except the croissants on offer at craft services.
“It’s not your fault,” he said softly. “I’ve seen the way he treats you, and frankly, you’re lucky to be getting away so easily.”
She realized just how right David was. The main reason she’d been so scared to go through with the divorce was because she knew Kyle would be insulted and would make things as difficult as possible. But now, he’d taken the initiative and the whole mess would be resolved quickly, because that was how Kyle always got things done.
Especially in the bedroom.
“Do you know where they took her?” Michelle asked them, redirecting her thoughts to the problem at hand.
“We assume the county jail. I’m sure we could find it, but this late at night, it will be a waste of time,” Nathan remarked.
“Shaunna will have to spend the night in jail at this point, even if we do find a lawyer,” David reasoned. “Don’t you see? That’s why Kyle waited all day before he called the police. With Shaunna out of the way, he can say whatever he wants about Michelle, and there is no one to contradict him.”
“Of course!” Michelle fumed. “Even when it’s about Shaunna, it’s still all about him!”
“Do you want me to ask the studio publicist to pitch in and give you a call?” Nathan paused. “In fact, I’m surprised they haven’t called me yet.”
