“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Suit yourself,” Mark said. “I’m going to go have a nice stiff drink.”
Lash thought the idea sounded pretty damned good. He turned to head back to his trailer and nearly collided with the movie’s leading lady.
“Welcome to the circus,” Kay Bradford said. She held out a cigarette to him.
Lash shook his head. Smoking was one of the few bad habits Lash had never started. “I don’t smoke.”
“Do you fuck?”
Lash grinned and shook his head. “You’re something else, Kay.”
She smiled, but Lash noticed her hand shaking as she inhaled deeply.
“It’s going to be okay,” Lash said softly.
“Promise?” she asked. “Cause I’m ready to blow this joint.”
“I promise.”
“For some goddamn reason, I believe you.”
As he watched Kay walk away, Lash considered what he’d just done a testament to how far he’d come. A few years ago, Kay wouldn’t have had to proposition him. He would have beaten her to it. Now, he didn’t see the point in screwing someone just because they happened to be right there in front of you.
And Kay was a beautiful woman, no question about it. But it seemed like a whole lot of wasted time for a few minutes of pleasure.
She was genuinely frightened, though. And fear on the set would not make a good movie.
Lash felt a huge responsibility to everyone involved. He knew that his attitude would have a powerful influence on the working atmosphere on the set. He had to stay positive. It was a role he was used to, but one he hadn’t held for a while. He just hoped he’d be able to pull it off and that everything that had happened would help to bond the cast and crew together. It would take the support of everyone involved to make this thing work.
He decided to make a quick detour on his way to that drink.
Robert Colt looked up as Lash Brogan stormed into his trailer. “Lash, how nice of you to drop by,” he said, putting down his copy of the script.
“I just talked with Kay. She’s scared, Bob. She was talking about leaving. I managed to calm her down and talk her out of it, but things are getting out of hand. I need you to tell me what the hell is going on here.”
“Are you threatening to walk?”
“That would be in violation of my contract,” Lash shot back sarcastically.
“Just do what we’re paying you to do, okay. And let me handle the rest.”
“It’s a little hard for us to do our job when we’re in danger every time we walk onto a set.”
Robert gestured with his hands, “The feds are looking into it as well as the local cops. So you can relax, everything’s under control.”
“Really?”
“It’s under control, Lash.”
“For your sake as well as ours, I hope you’re right.”
“Me, too,” Robert muttered as the door closed. He rubbed a hand down his face. This movie was quickly becoming his worst nightmare. Was this all just colossal bad luck? Or was there something else going on? One name kept popping up in his mind but he forced it back down. No fucking way. But the memories and the what if’s kept circulating in his brain.
No. He was just being paranoid. He poured himself a generous drink and let his mind and body relax. Everything would be fine.
Lash cursed under his breath as he walked towards his trailer and saw the director walking town his direction.
“Bad night?” Guy asked.
“Bad producer,” Lash muttered.
“Look, Bob’s an asshole, but he gets shit done.”
“Yeah, that may be. He hasn’t exactly impressed me so far.”
“He doesn’t have to. Either way, we do our jobs and hopefully we all come out of this alive with a box office hit.”
“Thanks for the pep talk.”
Guy shrugged. “Anytime.”
9
It was a bit distracting being on a movie set surrounded by gorgeous women. Rafe figured Lash must have the best job in the entire world, getting paid a shitload of money to play pretend with beautiful women. He knew there was a lot more that went into it, but this was the first time he’d actually seen his boss at work. It was exciting.
“That makeup lady is hot,” he said to Lash now.
Lash just laughed.
“What’s so fuckin’ funny?”
“Let’s just say that Kay stands more of a chance of getting lucky with her than you do.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Kay’s not bad either, but probably way out of my league,” Rafe said.
“Kay eats men like you for breakfast.”
“We’ll see,” he answered.
Lash shook his head as Rafe walked away. “Cocky son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath.
Kay Bradford was all too aware that she was getting old. But she also knew that thanks to a lifetime of diet and exercise, a good stylist, and a little plastic surgery, she was still way above average in the looks department. While she didn’t exactly have men lined up out the door to sleep with her like she did ten years ago, she certainly wasn’t lacking for male companionship.
She couldn’t deny that Lash Brogan’s rejection had stung a little. She was also intrigued by his bodyguard Rafe Braeden’s interest in her. She usually didn’t sleep with bodyguards, but he was young and a little exotic with his dark hair and tanned skin compared to who she usually slept with. She watched him walk towards her now, a slow sexy smile on his face.
“You were great today, Ms. Bradford,” he said. “A true pleasure to watch.”
She smiled, looked at him from under her thick lashes. “It’s Kay. And I’m flattered you like to watch me work.”
“I’m Rafe. Lash Brogan’s bodyguard.”
“Mmm, a bodyguard,” she purred. “You want to guard my body?”
“It just so happens I do have the night off. And I can think of no better way to spend it.”
“Well then,” she said, threading an arm through his. “What are we waiting for?”
Rafe worried initially that Kay was just using him to get closer to Lash, but five minutes after entering her trailer, he couldn’t have cared less.
At first it was fun, but Kay’s personality was just as fake as parts of her body.
He quietly left as soon as she fell asleep.
And he did have to laugh at the irony of his first celebrity close encounter. Overhyped for sure. He’d have to try for someone younger next time. And of course that wasn’t what he was here for, but hey, if the opportunity presented itself when he was off duty, then who the hell was he to argue? Being a celebrity bodyguard did have some privileges and he wasn’t above taking advantage of them.
Hoyt sat down next to Lash at breakfast the next morning, a scowl on his face.
“I saw Rafe coming out of Kay’s trailer last night,” Hoyt said.
“Really? Good for him,” Lash said, pouring a cup of coffee.
“Not exactly what we’re here for,” Hoyt ground out.
Lash poured coffee for Hoyt. “Cheer up, have some caffeine.”
Hoyt shook his head. “It isn’t bad enough that I have to look after your sorry ass, now I have to worry about my backup screwing the cast.”
“If it interferes with the job, I’ll talk to him. In the meantime, I trust you to keep him in line.”
Hoyt shook his head. “It’s a damned good thing you pay me obscenely well.”
Lash raised an eyebrow. “You don’t work for me because I’m such good company?”
Hoyt refilled his coffee. His eyes followed Allie Godfrey, who played the role of Mark’s character’s partner, as she walked out of the room. “Maybe if you looked like her.”
Officer Steve Rorbach did not want to answer the phone. He’d thought he’d hit the jackpot when Adam Bishop had offered him $25,000 to ignore the incidents on set. But he hadn’t thought murder would be a part of it.
He d
rained his glass of beer. He’d made a deal with the devil and there was no way out of it now. He picked up the phone.
“Yes.”
“And how is my cop friend tonight?” Adam asked.
Rorbach clenched his jaw. “What do you want?”
“I just wanted to check in, make sure we’re still on the same page.”
“I’m with you,” Rorbach forced himself to say, pouring another beer.
After Adam hung up, Rorbach flung the empty bottle at the wall, enjoying the satisfaction as it shattered, imagining it was Adams face instead of the wall. He drank more, wondered what the department shrink would think of his anger management issues now.
10
Special Agent Ward Calhoun thought longingly of retirement as he watched the interstate mile markers go by. It had been easy to look forward to getting back to work when he’d been cooped up in the hospital. But the reality was, he felt jet-lagged and exhausted. He knew the job was taking its toll on him, knew he was close to burnout, had been even before he got shot. But there was always one more big case, and once he got involved in it he didn’t let go. He took every loss as a personal failure and lived for the rush of it all.
He shook off the melancholy.
Hell, he’d probably be on the job until the day he died. At least he was back on the job instead of lying in a hospital bed. There were certainly worse ways to make a living, he thought as Agent Thaler drove through the security checkpoint and onto the set.
“All right, let’s do this,” Ward said, opening the door as soon as Thaler had parked the car.
Everything on the set came to a standstill as the caravan of shiny black Ford Expeditions slowly made their way along the dusty road, coming to a stop in front of the row of trailers and tents that had been erected outside of Pueblo, Colorado, which the crew had started referring to as “tent city”.
“Well, looks like the cavalry’s here,” Mark Goddard drawled.
“Mmm hmm,” Lash Brogan answered. “Maybe they can figure out what the hell’s going on around here.” He paused, watching Guy Sorenson, the director, greet the three agents. “I’d like to have this thing wrapped up by the end of the year . . .” his voice trailed off and he felt his stomach drop as one of the agents looked over in their direction.
“Looks like they’re sending their big shot over to talk to us,” Mark said as Guy and the agent made their way over.
“Mark, Lash, this is Special Agent Ward Calhoun, he’ll be heading up the investigation, so make sure you boys cooperate.”
Agent Calhoun shook Mark’s hand then turned and gave a small nod towards Lash.
“Brogan. Good to see you again.”
It was all Lash could do to keep his face from betraying the turmoil he was feeling inside and shake Calhoun’s extended hand.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Lash muttered as he turned and walked towards his trailer.
Lash closed the trailer door and leaned heavily against it. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart then ran a shaking hand through his hair. He walked over to the sink and poured himself a glass of water, draining it in three swallows. Leaning over the sink, he gripped the edges, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
It had been a year and a half now since Justine’s death. He thought he’d done a damn good job of getting on with his life, putting the past behind him. Until now. The truth was that Justine had been the only woman he’d ever loved. Yes, her death had been a tragic accident, but seeing Calhoun again had triggered his memories of the painful events that had brought them together, bringing to the surface once again the raw pain of losing her.
A knock on the door jerked him back to reality. He opened the door to find Calhoun standing outside, arms crossed across his broad chest.
“Mind if I come in?” It was more a statement than a question. Calhoun removed his sunglasses and stared at Lash with his dark penetrating eyes.
“Sure,” Lash muttered and Calhoun followed him inside.
Calhoun looked around the small, cramped trailer. “I thought movie stars got better accommodations than this.”
“Well, when you’re filming out in the middle of nowhere, four star hotels are a little hard to come by,” Lash replied sarcastically. “The closest town doesn’t even have a real hotel.”
Calhoun took a seat opposite Lash at the small chipped table and looked calmly at Lash. “Is my being here going to be a problem for you?”
Lash shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “No,” he replied, unable to meet Calhoun’s eyes.
“Because I can get the bureau to send someone else.”
“I said it was fine,” Lash replied curtly. He sighed and sat back in his chair. “I’m sorry. It’s just that seeing you kind of threw me for a loop. I try not to think about what happened back then.”
Calhoun nodded. “You don’t still blame me for Sloan shooting you?”
“I know that wasn’t your fault. Sloan was crazy. I’m the one who should have listened to you when you wanted your guys to guard my property. I just never thought someone I employed would betray me.” He paused then added, “You’re a damned good agent, Calhoun. It’s good that you’re here trying to sort this mess out.”
Though he’d kept up with the actor, Ward could see how much Lash had changed since he’d seen him last.
While Lash’s reputation as a playboy continued, it was clear the events of a year and a half ago had changed him. He seemed almost introverted now, his gaze guarded, dark and brooding. Death had a way of doing that to people.
“Okay then, let’s get down to business,” Ward said. “Here’s what we know, so just fill in any gaps that you can.”
When they were finished going over the facts, Lash sat back. He felt a little better talking about what was going on and he felt bad about the way he’d acted towards Ward when he was on the set to do his job, just like Lash was. He stood. “You want a drink?”
“You still drinking that Irish shit?”
“What other kind of whiskey is there?” Lash asked, opening the cabinet and taking out a bottle of Jameson. He generously filled two juice glasses, handed one to Ward.
After they’d both taken a few swallows, Lash studied the agent across from him. He didn’t know Ward Calhoun well and many of the times he’d seen the other man, Lash had either been in the hospital or high on painkillers. Ward looked older and more worn out than he remembered. He supposed that was an occupational hazard for people in law enforcement. He took another drink of the whiskey. “You been doing all right?”
Ward laughed and finished his drink. “I got shot, but other than that, same old shit.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know.”
Ward shrugged. “In and out, no big deal.”
“Right,” Lash said, looking down and finishing his own drink.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ward said, standing up.
“Yeah,” Lash said, still looking down.
After he heard the trailer’s door shut Lash poured himself another drink. He downed it in two swallows then put the bottle away and picked up the phone. He needed to get the hell out of there or he’d finish the bottle or worse. “Feel like a workout?” he asked when Hoyt answered.
“Guy’d kill me if he knew what we were doing. But don’t worry, I won’t mess up your pretty face and ruin the shoot tomorrow,” Hoyt said as Lash ducked another one of his opponent’s right hooks.
“You’d have to hit it first,” Lash replied.
“Watch what you wish for.”
Lash might kid around, but he’d never want to be on the receiving end of Hoyt’s anger. He put up his hands. “Give me five minutes then we’ll go again.”
Hoyt shrugged. “You’re just delaying your inevitable defeat.”
“Tell me again why I pay you?” Lash asked as he grabbed a water bottle from the edge of the ring. He looked around the dark dingy room. It was a far cry from where he normally trained, but the high school in the desert town near wher
e they were filming was the only nearby option. It didn’t need to be fancy, it just needed to serve their purpose. He and Hoyt were the only ones on set who used the gym there which was just fine by him. The last few years had certainly taught him the value of privacy.
“Ready,” Hoyt asked, bouncing from one foot to the other.
“Always,” Lash answered, bringing his gloves up.
“You’re getting good,” Hoyt said, out of breath, as they finished their workout.
“I had a good teacher.” And it was true. Lash had always been a natural athlete, but his workouts had consisted of soccer and lifting weights.
Then Hoyt had really gotten him into working out as a form of stress relief and had broadened his view of exercise.
Though a regular regime of boxing, weights, martial arts, and running had made him leaner than he was a few years ago, he was also stronger and more agile than ever before. He’d found that exercise was a much better way to vent his frustrations than drinking or medicating himself into a stupor. Most of the time anyway.
Early the next morning, Ward held a meeting with Guy, Robert, and the leading actors to go over their security details and procedures.
“Ok,” Ward said. “Let’s get started.”
He looked over the list Guy provided. There certainly seemed to be adequate general security on the set and at the filming locations. The lead actors all had their own private bodyguards on the payroll as well, except for Mark Goddard. Add in Ward and his two agents and it should be more than enough coverage. The only area of weakness he saw was that Brogan only had one primary and one secondary bodyguard.
He glanced at the actor. “Only two? With your track record and what’s been going on around here lately, I’d expect you to have an entourage surrounding you at all times.”
“Not my style.” Lash didn’t want to explain. After the shooting, instead of beefing up security, he’d gone the other way, keeping Hoyt and Rafe and adding a handful of carefully selected men when needed.
Redemption (Fateful Justice Book 2) Page 4
