“One primary and one secondary?” Ward said. “From the looks of things, you need a hell of a lot more.”
“Hoyt’s the best there is,” Lash answered. “He’s capable, able to blend in unnoticed, not to mention deadly with all manner of weapons including guns and knives. And Rafe is young, but he’s good. He’s been training with Hoyt for over a year.”
“You trust them?”
“Hell, yes.”
“John Hoyt. He was one of your guys that got shot. The one that called it in.”
“That’s him. He helped me through a pretty rough time later on.” Lash really wanted the conversation to move along.
Ward nodded in understanding. “That’s good enough for me.”
He turned back to Guy. “Everything looks good. We’ll do our best to stay out of your way.”
Guy nodded back. He knew Agent Calhoun would keep his word. He also knew there was no easy way to hide the presence of FBI agents on a major motion picture set. He glanced at Bob, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meeting.
Bob nodded at him. “Sounds good to me,” he said, standing up to leave. He wasn’t concerned about security details. Either everything that had happened had been no more than bad luck, or it was the work of someone hell bent on destroying them all. Maybe he was deluding himself with the bad luck option, but he couldn’t even fathom the outcome of the other option. It would be the end of them all.
11
Ward Calhoun looked at the bulletin board in the trailer they had commandeered as a makeshift headquarters and thought longingly of his bed back at the hotel room in Pueblo. He knew he wouldn’t get to sleep anytime soon. He used to fantasize about sex, now he fantasized about sleep.
His mind was filled not only with details of the case, but of the organization required to keep it going. The agents assigned to the case all stayed in the same hotel, with at least one agent on the set at all times, every day. And the current location was an hour’s drive from the hotel. It took a lot of work to coordinate everyone’s schedule.
And his initial meeting with the local cops had not gone well at all. The Chief was a typical small town good old boy, not happy about the feds infringing on his territory.
Then there was Lash Brogan. What were the chances of Ward catching two major cases involving the famous movie star?
There had to be some connection there.
Despite being the lead agent on Brogan’s kidnapping case, he felt the need to understand the man, get to know him. Find out why the actor seemed to get himself caught up in situations that required the FBI’s involvement.
Brogan or someone connected to him could be the key.
He’d start with his bodyguard, John Hoyt.
Hoyt didn’t ask questions when Ward asked for a meeting.
He declined Ward’s offer of a drink, just paced around the room then stood, arms crossed across his chest.
Ward didn’t have time to bullshit around, so he got straight to the point. “I want you to come to me with anything, and I mean anything you see or hear on the set that feels wrong. I know your background. I need those skills now. You can see things I can’t. People will talk to you before they will an FBI agent. You might overhear something.”
“I know how to do covert surveillance, Calhoun.”
“Good. I need your help. I need someone on the inside.”
“Bodyguards aren’t on the inside.”
“I know. But Lash is. And he can’t do this on his own. It could get dangerous, that’s why I need you there.”
Hoyt looked up. “Have you talked to Lash?”
“He’s next on my list.”
“Okay. Tell me what you need.”
“Someone on this set knows something. But they might not be willing to talk to someone ‘on the record’. I need someone inside that can get people to open up. You and Lash came into this thing after the fact. Asking questions about what’s going on would be natural.”
Hoyt nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”
“John, one more thing.”
Hoyt turned back.
“If Lash gets in too deep, I need you to pull him back. I don’t want him taking any unnecessary risks.”
“Understood.”
John Hoyt knocked on Lash’s door twenty minutes later. “Calhoun wants to see you,” he said.
“Now?” Lash asked. It was eleven p.m.
“Now.”
“Fuckin’ feds,” Lash muttered.
It was close to midnight when Calhoun ushered him into the trailer. “Don’t FBI agents have to sleep too?” he asked.
“Not when we’re working a case like this.”
“You couldn’t have just called?”
Ward sat down, gestured for Lash to do the same. “I like to ask questions face to face.”
Lash sighed. “So ask away.”
“I heard you did some work on Broadway.”
Lash raised his eyebrows, not sure what to make of Ward’s sudden desire to get all chummy. “Off-Broadway, actually.”
“Is doing theatre much different than films?”
“Ward, don’t take this the wrong way, but what’s with the third degree, here?”
Ward tapped his pen on his notepad, shook his head. “Just trying to get a feel for the environment and the players. The more I know about the industry, the better.”
Lash sighed again, might as well answer so he could get back to his place. “Doing theatre is a different world altogether. You’re connecting directly with the audience. It’s acting at its purest and most traditional. There’s no stopping the action, no saying the lines again, no controlling where the audience’s attention is focused. When you’re on that stage, you have to be on, you have to be that character or your chance to connect with the audience is gone and you can’t get it back.”
Despite himself, Ward found the description fascinating. “I never thought about it quite like that. Are most actors good at both?”
“No, usually they’re much better at one than the other, then you have the whole television versus movie thing. It’s rare for someone to be good at all three.”
“So you’re an exception, huh?”
“I enjoy aspects of TV, film, and theatre. Each is unique but can be equally fulfilling. TV gave me my first big break, motion pictures gave me the big paycheck, and theatre, well, I do that for pure enjoyment.”
“So it’s not just a job?” Ward asked.
“Not to me. I think acting should be fun. Ideally, everyone should enjoy what they do for a living. That’s not often the case, even for successful actors. Some of them are just doing it for the fame and fortune. Don’t get me wrong, that part of it’s nice too, but if you love what you’re doing it shows, then your true creativity is released.”
Ward felt like he was finally starting to see beyond Lash’s reputation and image and get a glimpse of the real man inside, now that he was seeing him clean and sober. Hell, he was almost starting to like the guy despite everything.
“So who here is just in it for the money?” he asked.
Lash shook his head and looked back at Ward, noting the seriousness on his face. “All right. Mark Goddard’s a rodeo rider who also loves to act, he’s also looking for his first big break. Kay Bradford’s a bit of a drama queen, likes the attention. She’s capable enough, but her acting skills are short of remarkable. They’re enough to get her prime roles, but not enough that she’d ever win an Oscar. And when her looks start to go, the roles will follow. Allie Godfrey has little talent but has a great presence on film and wants to capitalize on it as long as possible. The head grip wants to get paid for doing as little actual work as possible.”
“What about ulterior motives. Anyone in particular seem like they have something to hide? Anything that sticks out as unusual?”
“This whole situation is unusual. Susan, the assistant director, doesn’t seem too upset about the things that have happened, but I don’t know if she’s smart enough to be invol
ved in something this big.”
“Okay, good. Keep your eyes open and let me know if you see anything, anything at all out of the ordinary or that strikes you as being wrong.”
“Yes, sir,” Lash said and yawned.
Ward stood. “We’re done here. Now you can go get your beauty sleep.”
12
It had been a long day on set and it wasn’t close be being over yet.
“This is not a performance, it’s a process. I want to see improv. Use this time to try different things so we can see what works in front of the cameras,” Guy shouted.
Lash had been watching from an inconspicuous place. He didn’t want his presence to make the other actors nervous, but watching them perform helped him prepare for his scenes.
People didn’t realize what really went into making a major motion picture. The cast and crew all spent hours standing around and waiting for a mere few minutes of shooting. Each had different ways of dealing with it. Some played video games, some meditated, others listened to music, a rare few drank or did drugs. Lash went over his lines in his head, eyes closed, somewhere quiet and alone, or he spent the time watching others film their scenes.
“Lash, we’re ready for you. Where the hell are you?” Guy said into his walkie- talkie.
“Right here,” Lash said, stepping around the corner.
“Okay.”
Dalke handed out the prop guns and Lash and Mark took their places again. They pointed the guns at each other for a long tense minute. Stalemate. Then Lash cocked his head to the side and gave a half-smile. Mark lowered his gun a fraction of an inch and watched Lash run away, limping. Then he looked up to the sky, hands on his hips, and muttered a curse.
“Cut! Brilliant,” Guy said with a rare smile.
It was a big risk to have such an inexperienced actor in such a big role, but Guy was confident in Mark’s abilities. And the chemistry between him and Lash made the relationship between them come alive when they were in front of the cameras. Mark never argued with Guy’s suggestions and prompts and he was proving to be a fast learner.
It could be extremely nerve racking and frightening for a new actor who wasn’t used to performing on a somewhat chaotic big picture movie set. So far, Mark was handling it like an old pro. Guy had no doubts he would continue to do so.
To be a great actor, you had to be relaxed and in sync with your acting partner, your director, the entire crew. When that happened, it was magical. When it didn’t, well that was what re-shoots were for. Today had been magical.
“Let’s grab a beer,” Lash said to Mark as they walked off the set.
Lash and Mark had spent quite a bit of time together off set to establish a relationship that would transfer to the screen. And it had been a pleasure. Some people Lash worked with only because he had to. But he enjoyed spending time with Mark. He’d work with an inexperienced actor like him any day over a good majority of the so-called big names in the business. This was a friendship he could see continuing beyond filming. And while that wasn’t rare in the business, it was rare for him.
Adam Bishop watched from a discreet distance. Watching everyone celebrating the day. Things were happening so perfectly.
It was almost time.
He silently slipped back into the shadows.
“I bet you’ve never had to cover up one bullet wound in order to create a new one,” Lash said with his lopsided grin the next morning.
Sinnamon finished powdering Lash’s stomach and got ready to pencil in the simulated wound on his chest. “You’re the first. Most actors I know are scared of getting shot.”
“Well, I do like to create a memorable impression.”
Sin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need scars to do that.”
Lash laughed, then his face sobered. “Can you hang on a second?” He stood and moved so he was directly in front of the mirror. He studied his naked torso. It had been a long time since he’d seen himself without the jagged white scar on his stomach. If only that part of his life could be erased as easily as the scar had been covered up. He shook his head to clear it, sat back down, and closed his eyes. “Okay, I’m ready now.”
Sinnamon smiled as she continued her work. “You’re not at all what I expected. And I mean that in the best possible way.”
“What did you expect? An arrogant asshole?”
“Pretty much,” she answered.
“Well, in this case, I’m happy to disappoint.”
He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he headed out the door.
Lash had managed to put Calhoun and the possible threat on set to the back of his mind as they filmed some of the movie’s most climactic scenes. It had felt good to focus on work. But now, he felt a sense of dread as he made his way back to the set from the makeup trailer.
He’d been dreading filming the scene in the hospital ever since he’d gotten the script.
The reality of the scene was just as bad as he’d imagined it would be, maybe worse. He had woken up with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Even though it was being filmed on a soundstage and not in a real hospital room, it looked real enough to him. He hated the feel of the thin hospital gown against his skin, hated how vulnerable the entire set up made him feel.
He couldn’t help but fidget as the assistant taped the IV to his arm. The fake monitors were blinking and beeping just like the real ones did. And when it was time for Guy to call action and Lash looked up at the actress portraying the nurse, he didn’t see her; he saw one of the real ER nurses that had treated him all those months ago.
His character had just been shot by another cop. It was over and he was ready to make a deal. But Kay’s character was going to help him escape with a new identity.
She leaned over him, gripped his hand in hers. “Forget me. Forget all of us. Make something good of your life. And don’t look back.”
Guy didn’t even have to prompt him to use his raw emotions this time. The real memories were all too clear and painful. And way too close to the surface for comfort. He couldn’t stop them from surfacing if he tried.
It was all there on film minutes later. Luckily, Guy was satisfied with the take. Lash didn’t think he had it in him to do a re-shoot.
Hoyt took one look at him when they were finished, then they spent the rest of the ride back to the trailer camp in silence. Lash fell into bed and slept for a deep and exhausted nine hours straight. When he woke up in the morning, he didn’t allow himself to think about it at all. He wouldn’t be able to get through the day if he did. The scene was behind him and he would move forward. He had to.
Ward hated the late nights on the set. He understood the necessity of it, but it still made for a hell of a long day. He’d been forced to use the late evening and early morning hours to catch up on paperwork. Not to mention the fact that those were the only available hours to talk to some of the actors and crew.
He remained at the back of the set watching the scene come to life in front of the cameras. He’d always thought actors had an easy job, but after the time he’d spent on the set lately, he had a new admiration for them, especially Lash. The way he was able to put everything to the side and literally become another person in front of their eyes. You’d never know from watching him that his life was in danger. He rarely needed more than one take for his scenes. He did his job and he did it well. Ward admired that in any profession.
Now if the local cops would only do their job that well. Either they truly were incompetent or at least one of them was compromised. Ward wasn’t sure which situation was worse. He didn’t think it was the chief. From what Guy had told him, he had finally admitted he was in over his head and made the call to the feds. He should have made the call weeks ago, but that didn’t make him a criminal, just a bumbling small town cop. But either way, he couldn’t count on any of them.
Tonight was a quiet night, though, with only the one small scene being filmed, but since it involved Lash and several other big names, his presence was required. He’d s
ent Maroney and Thaler back to the hotel, both tired and frustrated.
Ward was too, truth be told. Things had been quiet and business as usual on the set, but they were making little progress in the investigation. Thank God the press hadn’t gotten wind of a lot of it. There would always be a few of them poking around any major motion picture set, but it hadn’t been bad so far, other than the death of Eric Sutton. The reports of the on-set accidents had barely made the papers.
If they could just keep it that way for a little while longer, he willed with every fiber of his being. Just a little more time and he would do his damndest to figure it all out.
13
Andy Taylor showed his ID to the security guard and passed through the newly constructed gate onto the movie set. Security was tight, that was good. He looked around at the temporary sets and dozens of trailers lined up neatly like blocks in the desert. Things appeared to be running smoothly, but of course things were not always what they appeared, and FBI agents on a movie set was definitely not the norm.
Their presence was hard to hide, though, and Andy easily picked them out, serious looking men wearing dark suits in the hundred degree Colorado heat. Andy nodded in passing at the tall dark-haired agent standing just inside the gate. “Calhoun.”
“Taylor,” Ward replied with a smirk.
He searched the mass of people as he walked through - actors, crew, cameramen, and all the assorted others for Lash. He almost walked right by his friend of fourteen years, stopped, did a double take, and grinned. Lash’s normally reddish-brown hair and eyebrows were colored jet black and the all black clothes made him appear leaner than he was. “Jesus, I almost didn’t recognize you. . .” He studied his friends grey eyes. “Damn, they even gave you colored contacts,” he said on closer inspection.
Redemption (Fateful Justice Book 2) Page 5
