Baby and the Beast

by Taylor Holloway

  My mouth fell open.

  Tommy was watching my face interestedly. “Why is that a big deal?”

  “Because it’s motive,” I stuttered. “He has a motive for stealing that money.”

  “What money?”

  I blinked. “Oh, right. You don’t know about this part. So, in addition to all the other shit going on in my life right now, someone stole three million dollars’ worth of cashier’s checks and two million dollars on a credit card from the Night Stalker set. The evidence was spotty but seemed to implicate Maurice Schmidt. Isabelle’s father. But when they searched his house, they couldn’t find any proof he did it.”

  “Isabelle’s father?” Tommy was smart, but this was a lot to catch up on. “He’s involved? Why would he steal from you?”

  “Because he had motive of his own. He’s a visual effects guy. They aren’t particularly well off. Plus, I’d made a fairly unusual proposition to his daughter and—”

  Tommy’s eyes narrowed.

  “Define unusual proposition,” Tommy insisted. “That sounds important.”

  “Remember how last night I told you and Wallace this was complicated?” I told him.

  Tommy waved his hand impatiently. “You’re clearly in way over your head. But this is all entertaining to me. Now just explain what the unusual proposition you made to Isabelle was that gave her father motive to steal from you.”

  I had to hand it to him, he was able to grasp all this quickly. But this next bit was going to be a bit tougher to explain. Or at least awkward.

  “Fine,” I told him. “It’s because I offered Isabelle Schmidt, who at that point was a complete stranger to me, one million dollars to be the surrogate mother to my child. I wanted her to live in my house, carry the baby, and then disappear.”

  Tommy’s expression went from confused to understanding. “I get it. That’s why you said she’d been pregnant for twelve weeks but only with you for a month. It also does explain why Maurice Schmidt might not like you all that much. Why didn’t you explain all this last night?” he asked. “Although it doesn’t necessarily show you in the best light, this isn’t that complicated.”

  Gee thanks. “It was complicated for me.”

  Tommy looked pityingly at me. “Well, I’m here to help now.”

  I laughed. “What exactly could you possibly do to help?” I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder. “Out in my front yard, there’s a veritable feeding frenzy. The context here doesn’t change the problem. I appreciate your, um, insights here, but I don’t see a particularly great path forward.”

  “Fair enough,” Tommy said after a moment. He took a deep breath in and out and then looked around himself. “But I think what we now know does change the direction we go to get to the solution. Obviously, you need to expose Ashton Radley. And I’m willing to bet your old army buddy Quin would jump on any offer for cash. Even if it came from you.”

  “Okay, Connor,” Elaine said, striding out onto the patio holding a phone to her ear. “What’s it gonna’ be? Cower like a bitch or fight like a man?” She froze, realizing that I wasn’t alone out here.

  Tommy grinned at me. Out of nowhere, I felt myself smiling back.

  50

  Isabelle

  The Production

  The castle was in much better shape than I remembered. The renovations that Connor had been talking about were really coming together. The sheets were gone from the furniture in most of the public areas. Surfaces had been scrubbed, restored where needed, and painted modern, optimistic colors. It was a lot less dark and a lot cleaner. Instead of a haunted castle vibe, it was actually starting to look like a home. I could see this place becoming somewhere I might want to live one day. If we made it that far, anyway.

  There were still a lot of unknowns between Connor and me and the possibility of living happily ever after. The most pressing of which was if Connor would choose to fight back against Ashton Radley’s scheme to discredit and humiliate him.

  I paced up and down the long hallways all afternoon. He had to fight it. And he had to eventually reply to my damn calls. Jimmy had gotten the idea to rope in his brother to go talk to him, and we’d fed him all the information we could, but we hadn’t heard anything back. I hoped Wallace really went over and talked to Connor. I didn’t see why he would lie to us, but I didn’t know Connor’s family at all. Maybe their dynamics were weird.

  This situation was certainly weird. My body felt weird too. It was a little bit early for me to feel the baby move, but I definitely felt something happening. There was the smallest little swelling of my stomach now. It looked like it could just be the remains of a heavy meal, but I knew it wasn’t. My body felt weirdly tender all over, but I also felt less fatigued than I had. The nausea seemed to be going away, and my boobs looked bigger than they ever had. All these changes were exciting, and scary. The changes in my body and the changes in my life were almost enough to make me want to curl up in the fetal position and rock back and forth, but I was still upright and fighting.

  I needed Connor to do the same.

  When my dad called, I answered immediately. I needed a distraction.

  “Hey, Izzie,” he said, “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m alright,” I told him. I’d already briefed him on the most up-to-date Connor news. My dad hadn’t watched the program that aired last night, but he’d heard of it. I’m sure he watched it online afterwards.

  “I’ve got some good news. Want to hear it?”

  I exhaled in relief. I definitely couldn’t take any bad news at the moment.

  “Sure. I could use some good news at the moment.”

  “The police came by this morning. They took the ankle monitor off me and left.”

  I frowned. “It’s about time.”

  My dad laughed. “You’re still so bitter about that. I volunteered to wear the stupid thing, remember?”

  I did, but it didn’t make it any better. The fact that anyone had thought my dad was a thief still made me furious. “It was stupid to ever accuse you.”

  “Sure. It was. But I’m officially off the suspect list.”

  “What changed?” I asked. “Did they find out who really did it?”

  At this point the entire question of who’d stolen the money was so distant from my real problems that I’d almost forgotten about it. Plus, I was discovering that pregnancy brain was a one hundred percent real thing. My attention span and short-term memory were not as good as they used to be.

  “They didn’t tell me if they had cracked the crime,” my dad told me. “But they said they’d finally gotten in touch with Rocco. So maybe he was able to help them figure it out.”

  “Maybe it was him all along?”

  My dad made a “hmm” noise through the phone. “I really don’t think Rocco would steal. He was a bit strange, sure, but I’ve worked with him for a long time. He’s not a thief.”

  I wasn’t so sure, but it did seem strange that either one of the senior effects guys would choose to steal from the safe. “What do you think really happened?”

  We’d been through this before, of course, but I couldn’t help but ask. Every time I thought about the stolen money, all I could see was Connor staring at me in his living room as Luc and Jimmy explained the evidence. He’d looked so confused and betrayed. I wanted to fix this for him. I knew that it must have made him furious to be stolen from. He’d worked so hard to carve out a place for himself in Hollywood after his fall from grace.

  “I just don’t know, Izzie,” my dad replied. “It doesn’t make any sense to me. I think it had to be someone else though. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t Rocco.”

  We talked around it for a few more minutes, but we weren’t getting anywhere. When we finally hung up, I felt no closer to a resolution. Then, not ten minutes later, I got my first ever text from Connor Prince.

  Connor Prince [2:45 p.m.]: We figured it out. Ashton Radley stole the money. You were right, he was also the one who’s behind everything. He put Quin up on na
tional TV. Also, I love you.

  My breath hissed out of me in a mixture of relief and shock. My fingers shook as I tapped my reply. A plan was starting to come together in my mind.

  Isabelle Schmidt [2:46 p.m.]: I love you too. What happens now?

  Connor Prince [2:47 p.m.]: Now we destroy him.

  Isabelle Schmidt [2:48 p.m.]: I have an idea. We’re going to need to draw him out. I’ll be the bait. He’ll listen to me.

  Connor Prince [2:50 p.m.]: You aren’t getting within fifty feet of that man.

  Isabelle Schmidt [2:52 p.m.]: Yes, I am. I have to. But first, we need to talk to Rocco.

  51

  Isabelle

  The Gambit

  “Ashton, do you have a minute?” It was one week later. The press was still encamped outside Connor’s house. Everyone now knew that the quiet stunt guy that had been inconspicuously working on Night Stalker was actually Connor Prince, the head of the whole production company. And Connor Prince was Hollywood’s most hated man. Picketers were protesting in front of the studio. Tensions were high.

  But Ashton looked totally relaxed. In fact, he was positively gleeful that I was batting my eyes at him. “I was wondering when you’d come calling,” Ashton said. He smiled at me with a predatory glint in his eye. “Now that Connor’s identity is out, I’m guessing he’s willing to pay to make me back off. You both have something I want. Let’s come to an arrangement.”

  “I’m ready to listen,” I told him, trying to appear as beaten down and scared as I could. “Meet me downstairs in five minutes?”

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  He clearly thought he’d won. He’d discredited my dad. He’d dragged the father of my child through the dirt on national television. He’d made a bet with someone to make some kind of humiliating sex tape of me. He was drunk on power and his own cleverness. And it was about to come crashing down on his pretty little head.

  He thought he was going to come down and convince me to make a sex tape, but he was in for a big surprise. When Radley came into my workshop, he was visibly shocked by the changes. The labyrinth of props and construction materials was gone. Now it was just a big, open, empty room. And at the center of it was me, all alone.

  “What happened to your workshop?” Ashton asked, staring around himself in disbelief. “Where are all the props?”

  “I had to get rid of them,” I told Ashton. “I had them all moved to storage. This production is going to be cancelled.” They were actually just in the other workshop next door. The police and Connor had insisted that they have a clear line of sight if I was going to be the bait.

  “What are you talking about?” Radley questioned. “Connor Prince has more money than God. A few million here or there isn’t a big deal.” He laughed. “It’s all chump change to him.”

  “Did you see the protesters outside?”

  “Who cares about a few protesters?” Radley asked, laughing. “I’m sure this is an ego blow, but he can go cry into his pile of money.”

  I shook my head. I was no actress, but I was trying. “You don’t understand. This is a disaster. Connor’s underwriters all pulled out. They were financing us. The production is bankrupt. We won’t continue filming after today. We’re all about to lose our jobs. Because someone stole all that money, they’ve lost faith in his abilities. Maybe they could have overlooked the theft, but then that news story came out and we’ve got ‘Me Too’ protestors out front. Now they all want out. Your little schemes worked a bit too well. But, hey, I’m listening now. So, tell me your deal. Then I’ll tell you mine.”

  His eyes went huge. He swallowed hard. “You can’t be serious. I need this film.”

  “I needed it too,” I told him. “I was banking on this movie coming out. This was my first film as a visual effects supervisor. I needed this for my career. Now everything is ruined.”

  “Please tell me this is a joke.” He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He’d started sweating, too. He pulled at his collar like it was choking him. Was he doing cocaine? I hadn’t considered it until now, but it seemed plausible. His eyes were dilated.

  I shook my head. “It’s not a joke,” I told him. “That’s why I’m listening now, Ashton. If you’ve got a way out, I’m all ears.”

  “The movie is really bankrupt?” he seemed shocked. His little plan of having me star in a sex tape was trivial now. As was any plan to blackmail Connor.

  “Yeah. It is.” I hung my head. “It’s all ruined.”

  “This can’t be happening.” I could see panic starting to percolate through him. I wondered how many other debts he had in Hollywood. If what Connor told me was true, he was in debt up to his eyeballs and desperately needed this movie to succeed in order to at least pay some of them. The dumb asshole had cut off his nose to spite his face.

  “Maybe you should have thought of that before you stole that money.”

  Radley’s blue eyes crawled over my face and body. “How did you know it was me?”

  You just told me, dummy. You literally just admitted it.

  “Are you denying it?”

  “No.” He laughed weakly. He looked terrified. “I’m just curious. It’s not like anyone would believe you.”

  Oh, like the police in the other room? Radley had no expectation of privacy in a fucking movie studio. This entire workshop was rigged up with cameras and microphones.

  “Why did you try and frame my dad?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I originally didn’t. I came down to the workshop to look for you, but you’d already left. Your dad must have gone upstairs to talk to the director and quit. Anyway, Rocco was on the phone arguing with someone really intensely about some kind of party he was having later, and he had his back to the open safe. He didn’t even see me. It was too easy.” He laughed lightly. “I had a few bad bets at the racetrack. Terrible luck and then Rocco tried to blackmail me. But I figured between you and Connor, I could get back on my feet.”

  It was almost too banal, but I believed it. Ashton Radley wasn’t a master criminal. He was just an opportunistic one.

  Rocco confirmed everything once we got ahold of him. He figured out that Radley stole the money and, instead of turning him in, decided to blackmail him instead, leaving the country to ensure that Radley couldn’t come after him. But Radley didn’t have the money anymore and had his own problems. When my dad was implicated in the theft, Rocco didn’t come forward to defend him since he’d become an accessory to the crime. It was all so twisted.

  “What did you use the money for?” I asked. That was the only thing that made me curious at this point. He went through five million like it was nothing.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “This and that.”

  Gambling. He used it for gambling. And maybe cocaine, given the way he was kind of bouncing up and down.

  “Listen, Connor sent me here,” I told him. “He knows that you were behind this stuff. He wants to make a deal with you. We both do.”

  “What kind of a deal?” Ashton said. His eyes had turned predatory again. He was listening eagerly.

  “Connor will pay back the investors. But you have to agree to stop paying off Quintin Rodriquez to talk. We both know that his sob story is totally made up. He’s been arrested twelve times since coming back to the US. He’s a petty criminal and part-time con man. He’s not some innocent victim.”

  “What good will that do?” he asked, confused. “While that’s all true, the guy is total scum, the cat is out of the bag here. If the investors are pulling out, I don’t see how shutting up Rodriquez will save us.”

  “It won’t. We really just needed you to admit to all that while the police were listening,” Connor said, walking in. There were two policemen with him. “Rocco has already corroborated his side of the story. Thanks for your help.”

  Radley lunged for Connor with murder in his eyes.

  52

  Connor

  The Turn

  Ashton Radley punched like a girl. He telegraphed his
intention so clearly that I was able to literally sidestep his blow, and he just went plunging in the direction of the very nice policeman who happened to be standing next to me. He delivered a weak, grazing blow to the unimpressed looking guy in blue. Punching a uniformed police officer was not a great plan for him. He ended up getting tazed, hog tied, and carried out. As he was going, a little baggy full of white powder fell out of his pocket, and that only added to his problems.

  “You had to ruin the one girl I liked!” Radley screamed as he was forcibly removed. “Why did you do that?”

  I just stared at him, and Isabelle and I watched in bemused horror, and in my case, deep satisfaction as he disappeared. We stared at each other when it was over.

  “That was exciting,” I said, feeling like I’d just dodged some kind of a bullet. I was deeply relieved our play had worked.

  Isabelle laughed weakly. “Too exciting. I never want to do anything like that again.”

  “You did a good job. You could be an actress.” I grinned at her, immeasurably proud. Baiting Ashton Radley hadn’t been particularly hard to set up, and he was an idiot, but Isabelle played her part well. I hadn’t liked using her as bait, but she was the person he was most likely to admit everything to. He had too much of a crush on her to be on his guard, and his sense of self-preservation had clearly taken a back seat to cocaine and gambling some time back.

  Isabelle shook her head at me, looking revolted by the suggestion. “Oh, no, thank you. I think I’ll stick to visual effects from here on out. I prefer being behind the camera, not in front of it.”

  “At least we got through phase one,” I told her. “This should at least get some of the underwriters off my back.”