Pilot Pete was frantic. How can I get rid of this guy? he wondered. He hasn’t paid his dues in this business, and he landed a part like this. He’ll definitely ruin the show. Pete had to talk to Bubbles again.
In one quick motion Pilot Pete did a U-turn. “You know, James,” he announced, “I’d like to go back to the hotel.”
James shrugged. “I thought you wanted to go to an out-of-the-way place,” he said in his soft voice.
“I don’t feel well. I want to get back.”
“That’s okay.” James yawned. “I’m a little tired anyway. It’s important to be well rested this week, don’t you think?”
“Sure.”
“I think I’ll order room service.”
They went back to the hotel. Inside, James waved good-bye to Pete. “See you in the morning,” he said cheerily as he headed for the staircase.
Pete stared after him for a minute and then headed for the bar. Bubbles and the Irish twins were finishing up their burgers.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked.
Bubbles looked up, surprised and relieved to see him. “You’re back! I thought you were having a drink with James.”
“I was, but I came home early.”
“I’ll say.”
“We came up with some new ideas for the show,” Noel explained. “Neil and I are going to head upstairs and work on the script.”
“I’m ready,” Neil declared as he got up from the chair. He patted Pete on the shoulder. “We’ll write you a few good lines.”
“Thanks, pal. Write a few less for James, would you?”
“I’ll call you later for a progress report,” Bubbles informed her writers.
When the brothers were out of earshot, Pete turned to her. “I have to talk to you about James.”
Bubbles’s eyes widened. “Petey, we’ve already been through this.”
“No, I mean really. I’m not talking about killing him. But there’s something strange about the whole situation. Did you know he’s hardly done any acting?”
“Yes.”
Pete grabbed her arm again. “Why did you cast him?”
“Roscoe had the final say over who got the job.”
“But were you at all the auditions?”
“Yes.”
“Wasn’t there any actor in Los Angeles who could have done a better job with that part?”
“There were plenty of actors who could have done a much better job. But Roscoe took a liking to James. And to Loretta, for that matter. I don’t think there are any Academy Awards in her future, either.”
“Yes, but at least she’s acted before. All this guy has done is studied with someone named Darby Woodsloe who gives a class on the beach.” Pete’s voice raised. “He is going to ruin the show!”
“Ssshhh,” Bubbles instructed.
“We have to get him fired.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Bubbles’s cell phone rang. She looked at the number on the caller ID. It was Roscoe calling.
“Hello, Parky,” she answered quickly.
“How’s the show going?”
“We’re working on it.”
Pete was frantically making faces at her. “Ask if we can meet with him,” he whispered. “Tell him we need to talk.”
Bubbles shook her head.
Pete nodded vigorously, hoping to change her mind.
“Bubbles, I’m calling to invite your group to my house for a dinner party tomorrow night. We’ll have all the folks from the reality show as well. I always say a little friendly competition can put a spark in your tank.”
“Is that what you always say?” Bubbles echoed.
“That’s what I always say.”
Finally, Bubbles found the nerve to bring up James. “Competition is wonderful, Roscoe. But I’m afraid we’re having real problems with one of our actors. It turns out James really isn’t very experienced. We don’t know how the show can succeed with him. To tell you the truth, he’s dreadful. Pete and I were just discussing this. I don’t know how we can make it work without, well, firing him and getting someone else.”
“Firing him!” Roscoe bellowed. “I laid out the conditions for you. Do you think Danny Madley is having an easy time with that reality show of his? Of course not! Some of his contestants are real dillies. But he has to make it look good, put together a great package with what he has. That’s part of this competition. Creativity. Inventiveness. See if you can get blood out of a turnip. See you tomorrow night at seven! And one more thing: remind Pilot Pete they don’t call him Pilot Pete for nothing.” Roscoe hung up.
Bubbles put her cell phone down on the table. “James’s job couldn’t be more secure if his grandmother produced the show.” She laughed slightly. “And he said you’re not called Pilot Pete for nothing.”
Pete slammed the table. “Now that gets me mad.”
Bubbles looked into his eyes and decided that she could let him in on the plan. Pete was terribly upset and truly wanted their show to succeed. He needed a hit. They were both in the same boat. Maybe he could come up with some good ideas. Bubbles’s sympathetic side temporarily got the best of her. “Pete, I don’t feel comfortable talking here. I think I know how we can win this competition. Come up to my suite. There’s something I want to tell you. I think you’ll feel better.”
“How?” he demanded.
“I told you I don’t want to talk here. I have a plan. Let’s go.”
They got up and walked past a red-haired woman in a sequined jacket who was eating by herself at the next table.
Regan Reilly watched the two of them walk out together. Just what is her plan? Regan wondered.
32
A few minutes later, Regan signaled for the check. She couldn’t believe the conversation she heard. She jotted down a few notes on the pad she kept in her purse. Bubbles and Pete were upset about one of the actors Roscoe had cast. And Bubbles has a plan she wanted to discuss privately with Pete. Did it have anything to do with Danny’s reality show? What did she want to do?
Regan paid the check and quickly walked out of the bar. Her cell phone rang. It was Danny.
“Regan, are you at the 7’s Hotel?”
“Yes.”
Regan stood there in the small bar as Danny related everything that had happened since she left the Madleys. She couldn’t believe it. Just what Danny needs right now. Come to think of it, Mrs. Madley did seem a little more high-strung than Regan remembered.
“Would you report the missing mail sack to security?” Danny asked.
“Yes. It gives me a good excuse to talk to hotel personnel. I can’t believe your parents are staying here.”
“Me, either. Call me when you’re through.”
“Sure thing.” She hung up and walked over to the front desk. “May I see someone from security, please?” she asked the clerk.
“Can I tell him what this is regarding?” Skepticism was written all over his face.
“Yes. A mailbag was stolen from my friend’s room.”
The clerk picked up a walkie-talkie. “Security to the front, please. Security to the front desk.”
A few minutes later a big bear of a guy appeared from around the corner, his walkie-talkie crackling. “What’s going on?” he asked the clerk.
The clerk pointed at Regan.
“Yes, miss?” the bear inquired.
“My name is Regan Reilly. I’m a private investigator.” She flashed him her ID. “Friends of mine are staying here. They just checked in at around six P.M., dropped their bags in their room, and came downstairs for a drink. When they returned to their room less than an hour later, a bag of mail they were to deliver was gone.”
The bear didn’t look too impressed. “What room?”
“Three twenty-three.”
“Where are they now?”
“They were so upset they ran out to tell the people whose mail was missing.”
“Let’s go take a look at the room.”
&nb
sp; All was quiet on the third floor. The guard tried to push open the door to 323. It was securely locked.
“There doesn’t seem to be a problem with the lock.” He took out his passkey. A second later the door was open. Two suitcases were on the bed, open and neatly packed. The room was in order.
Regan leaned down, picked up a Cherry Chap Stick from the floor, and placed it on the dresser. “Who else has a passkey?” Regan asked.
“The usual people—the maids, other security people, the manager. I don’t know who would want a sack of mail, though. Whose mail was it?”
“Have you heard of Aunt Agony and Uncle Heartburn?”
“Who?”
“Aunt Agony and Uncle Heartburn. They’re advice columnists.”
“You mean for the lovesick kind of people?”
“Among others,” Regan said.
“I think I’ve seen their column in the paper. I don’t read it, though.”
“You don’t need any advice, huh?”
He laughed. “I’m getting by. My girlfriend gives me a hard time sometimes, but we get along.”
“That’s good,” Regan said. “Has anything unusual happened in the hotel lately?”
He shook his head. “No. Just the same old stuff. People get locked out of their rooms. People come in a little drunk after a night of gambling. This is a small hotel. We don’t have many problems. We keep an eye on the parking lot. That’s about it.”
“I know you have a group from a sitcom staying here.”
“Yeah, they have ten rooms on the third and fourth floors.”
“Nice people?” Regan asked lightly.
“No problems. They haven’t been here for very long.”
“Do you have any security cameras in the halls?” Regan asked.
“No. I keep telling the manager we should put them in. But we haven’t had any trouble, so they don’t want to spend the money. We have no cameras in the hotel at all. I think that’s dumb.”
“It is dumb,” Regan agreed. “I just can’t understand why someone would steal the sack of mail and leave the suitcases untouched. That’s very strange. Could we take a little walk around the hotel?”
“Sure.” They walked up and down the halls, peeked in all the storage closets, went down to the basement and laundry room for a quick look, and then went out behind the hotel where it was dark. But in Vegas at night, it’s never too dark. Colorful neon lights flashed in the distance.
The bear shined his flashlight in a sweeping motion around the backyard of the hotel. The pool looked quiet and still. He then lifted the top of the Dumpster that was not far from the back exit. “Smells bad,” he said as he illuminated the garbage with his flashlight.
“That it does.”
“Doesn’t look as if there’s any mailbag in there,” he said as he dropped the lid. It crashed back down with a sound that would wake the dead. “I guess a lot of people are going to be disappointed if their letters are lost, huh?”
“Sure. Agony and Heartburn can’t answer all of them. But the letters are confidential. If that sack gets into the wrong hands, it could embarrass a lot of people. Agony and Heartburn act as shrinks for their readers. People write things that they wouldn’t tell their best friend.”
The guard laughed. “Some of those letters must be pretty funny.”
I don’t think they were meant to be. But he’s right, Regan realized. I hope no one is sitting somewhere with a drink in one hand and the letters in the other, having a good laugh. But if Danny’s mother couldn’t resist the temptation, then why should whoever stole the letters respect anyone’s privacy?
Regan gave the bear her card with her cell phone number on it. “Would you give me a call if anything turns up? Or if you get any ideas?”
“Sure. And next time I have a problem with my girlfriend, I’ll write those guys a letter. I just hope it doesn’t get lost.”
Regan nodded as she walked to the front and waved down a taxi. Off for more fun, she thought as she pulled off her wig, glasses, and Las Vegas–style jacket, and stuffed everything in her bag.
Regan couldn’t get Bubbles’s conversation out of her mind. She couldn’t help but wonder. Bubbles had the motive, but did she have the opportunity to steal that sack of mail? She was definitely one to keep an eye on.
33
“H ere we are!” Aunt Agony called as she banged on Danny’s door. “Ready for our big night out in Vegas!”
Danny got up from his seat and looked at his parents forlornly. “That other thing you want to discuss with me is going to have to wait.”
“Yes, dear,” Maddy said nervously.
“How’s my favorite aunt and uncle?” Danny joked when he answered the door. “Come in, come in. I don’t think you’ve met my parents.”
“Ohhhh—you can tell a lot about a person by his parents,” Agony observed. She extended her arm. “Nice to meet you. Nice to meet you!”
Maddy and Agony shook hands while Heartburn and Shep made each other’s acquaintance.
“How’s everything going?” Maddy inquired politely as they all sat down.
“Oh, we’re having such fun,” Agony declared. “These couples, I tell you. They are all so anxious to win the money. Can you blame them?”
“No, you can’t,” Shep answered. “After all, a million dollars.”
“I think they all really love each other,” Heartburn offered. “They have that certain something. We just have to decide who has the best chance of sticking it out through thick and thin, till death do them part. We all know that can be a challenge, don’t we?”
“You said it,” Shep agreed quickly. “Through thick and thin is the challenge.”
“Danny is doing a wonderful job,” Agony exclaimed and clapped her hands. “We’re all going to celebrate when this show is picked over that boring sitcom. Right?”
“Right,” Danny answered lamely.
“There’s nothing like reality television. It’s so unpredictable.”
“That’s for sure,” Danny agreed with a loud sigh. “Which brings us to this moment.”
“Are we on television now?” Heartburn joked.
“No!” Danny turned to his mother. Then he turned back to his guests. “In a nutshell,” he said, speaking quickly, “my parents ate at your cafe on the way here today.”
“How wonderful!” Agony exulted.
“Your waitress gave them a sack of mail to bring to you.”
“Goody,” Agony exclaimed. “I love my mail.”
“It was stolen from their hotel room.”
“Stolen?” Agony shrieked. “That’s our livelihood.”
“We were just trying to be helpful,” Maddy cried.
“There are important letters in every delivery!” Agony yelped.
“Calm down, Agony. Calm down,” Heartburn said. “We’ll put a notice in our column that letters are missing, so if people want to write again—”
“We saved one of the letters,” Maddy noted enthusiastically.
Agony, knowing human nature the way she did, was immediately suspicious. “What do you mean, saved one letter?”
“Well, it fell out of the bag in the backseat of the car. I found it, so I just stuck it in my purse.”
“Where is it?” Agony demanded.
Maddy pulled out the wine-stained letter from her little clutch.
“You were reading our mail!” Heartburn bellowed.
“It gets worse,” Shep assured them.
Heartburn grabbed it and turned gray. “It’s from a lawyer, dear.”
“What does it say?”
Heartburn paused.
“What does it say?” Agony demanded.
“My ex-wife is threatening to talk to the tabloids if I don’t pay the back alimony I owe her.”
“Oh, my God!” Agony cried. “Haven’t you paid her?”
“Not lately. Those taxes piled up when I wasn’t looking.”
“Oh, my God! When is the deadline and how much?”
&nbs
p; “Tomorrow. Forty thousand dollars.”
“Tomorrow! We don’t have that kind of money! The column doesn’t pay much yet. We need this show to get us going!”
Danny sat there, stunned. Not only had his mother caused trouble, but Heartburn was a real risk to the show. “If I’d known you had these problems…” he began.
“Don’t start that, Sonny boy,” Agony countered, no longer the sweet old lady. “Your mother can be arrested for tampering with our mail.”
“God knows what else was in that sack,” Shep commented.
“Can you pay your ex-wife off tomorrow?” Danny asked. “Because if you can’t and she goes to the newspaper, there goes our show. You haven’t paid alimony in how long?”
“A year,” Heartburn said meekly. “And no, we don’t have the money.”
Danny turned to his parents. “Mom, Dad.”
It was Shep’s turn to go gray.
“We’re all in this together. Dad, can you call your banker tomorrow?”
“To think we tried to save money by staying in a crappy hotel,” Maddy whined.
“Security’s obviously bad if they stole my mail.” Agony harrumphed and crossed her legs. “That’ll teach you a lesson.”
Shep put his hand to his forehead. “Yes, I can make a phone call tomorrow.”
“Thank God. We all have a vested interest in this show’s getting on the air. Once Agony and Heartburn get some on-air exposure, they will have the potential to make lots of money with future appearances and lectures.” He turned and looked Agony directly in the eye. “Then you will pay my parents back, right?”
“We will.”
“Even though my mother read the mail.”
“That’s right. As we say in the advice business, everybody has secrets. That’s one we’ll keep. You keep ours, we’ll keep yours.”
Danny sighed and got up. “We still have to go for our night on the town.”
“There’s one more thing,” Maddy reminded him.
“Yes, Mom.” Danny sat back down.
Maddy decided to relate this last tidbit in front of Agony and Heartburn. They might be helpful. “Missy is downstairs.”
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