“Thanks a lot,” he muttered in her ear.
“For what?”
“Sending me in to see that woman without a rabies shot. She’s a viper.”
“Your charm failed you?”
“A dozen bottles of champagne couldn’t mellow her out. Why’d Kinsey put up with her?”
“Word was he was sleeping with her.”
Vince shook his head in bemusement. “He was a braver man than I.”
Considering Vince’s enthusiastic pursuit of a wide range of women, Molly considered that high praise for Kinsey or a damning indictment of Laura. Probably a little of each.
“Quiet on the set,” Hank finally shouted. He glanced at Daniel Ortiz, who nodded. “Roll film.” He gestured toward Duke Lane. “And action.”
The scene required a highly emotional delivery, one of the toughest to begin cold, especially with a stand-in substituting for the missing Veronica. Duke never faltered. A tense three minutes later, when Hank said, “Cut and print,” the crew burst into applause.
“He’s good,” Vince said, sounding astonished.
“To be perfectly honest, he was better this morning than I’ve ever seen him. I have a hunch Veronica and her tantrums make him nervous.”
“He actually said his lines the way I wrote them,” Jonathan said, his tone suggesting amazement.
While he waited for Hank and Daniel to set up for his next shot, Duke made his way over to Molly, Vince, and Jonathan.
“Good changes,” he told Jonathan.
“You were really on this morning,” the writer told him. “Too bad Veronica missed it.”
“She would have hated it,” Duke said ruefully. “She likes to step all over my lines. Watch when we shoot her angles later. She’ll be all over the place.”
“Didn’t Greg try to control her?”
“Greg thought she walked on water,” Duke said. “Don’t ask me why. She treated him the way Laura treats all the rest of us, like dirt.”
“Taking my name in vain?” Veronica inquired, strolling up in the middle of his comment. Jeffrey Meyerson, looking distressed, was at her side.
“Now, dear,” he said soothingly. “Don’t get upset.”
“Oh, shut up, Jeffrey,” she said.
Duke met Veronica’s gaze evenly and didn’t waste his breath offering an apology. After a beat, she actually winked at him and the tension snapped.
Molly studied her closely. “You’re okay?”
“Fine,” the actress said. “Jeff, go find the makeup girl and tell her I’m here. Molly, could you be a dear and let Hank know?” She gestured to Jonathan. “Bring along the new pages. We can go over them while they’re working on my hair and makeup.”
“Certainly,” the writer said, looking miserable.
Hank came over just in time to hear the exchange. “No changes, Veronica. We’re shooting this the way Jonathan wrote it. Duke’s already done his angle.”
Veronica responded to the challenge in Hank’s tone with a terse “We’ll see.”
“I told you,” Duke mumbled, following Hank back to the set.
Hank draped an arm over Duke’s shoulder and leaned close. Whatever he was telling the actor so intensely seemed to relax him. Duke was smiling when he stepped back in front of the camera. Daniel shot him a thumbs-up as Hank called for action to begin again.
“How’s Hank doing?” Michael whispered to Molly as he joined her.
She raised her finger to her lips. Michael waited impatiently for the next break in filming when she was finally able to speak. “He’s in control so far. Better than I expected, in fact. If Veronica’s on good behavior, this may go smoothly.”
“You idiot!” Veronica’s shout couldn’t have been timed more perfectly if Jonathan himself had scripted it. “Are you trying to ruin me?”
Hank and Molly started for Veronica’s trailer just in time to see a furious Jonathan Fine storm through the door. “Keep her away from me,” he said to Hank. “If you need me, I’ll be back at the hotel.”
“I need you here,” Hank pleaded. “Wait in the production trailer.”
Jonathan ran his hand through his hair but finally nodded. “One word from her, though, and I’m on the next plane out of here. I don’t care if I never sell another script.”
Molly rushed up the steps to Veronica’s trailer. Inside she found the actress surrounded by a hair stylist, a makeup artist, and a frantic Jeffrey Meyerson. She was looking rather pleased with herself.
“What on earth did you say to Jonathan?” Molly asked her.
“I told him this was my film, not Duke Lane’s, and that he’d better not forget it.” She picked up the new script pages from her dressing table and dumped them into the trash for emphasis. Molly winced.
“They’re just tightening up a few scenes to speed up production. They were probably making a few adjustments just in case you couldn’t get here today.”
“Bullshit. Now that Laura’s in charge, she wants to turn this into Duke’s film. If I have to call my agent and get him involved, then that’s what I’ll do.”
Hank sighed heavily. “Okay, everyone out of here,” he said. “Veronica and I need to talk.”
When Jeffrey stayed where he was, Hank said, “You, too, Meyerson. Molly, I’d like you to stay.”
The only reason Molly could think of for being included was Hank’s belief that she had a soothing effect on his temperamental star. Personally, she would have rather been in Siberia. She thought Veronica was behaving like a spoiled brat and wasn’t sure she wouldn’t tell her as much given another display of her lousy temper.
When everyone else had left, Hank sat across from Veronica.
“You know we have a problem here,” he said.
She nodded. “I’ll say.”
“You’re not helping,” he said flatly. “You can make or break this film. It’s your choice. Now, me, I think this can be the best thing you’ve ever done, but you have to trust me.”
Some of Veronica’s defensiveness faded. “Explain,” she said imperiously.
“You dominate every scene in which you appear. What does it matter if Duke has a few more lines? He’s playing to you. There will never be a question of who this picture belongs to. You have star billing. This is not some cameo appearance. You carry it. It would make life a lot easier if you’d give Duke and Jonathan a break. You have them so terrified the only time I get any decent work out of either of them is when you’re not around.”
Veronica looked stunned by Hank’s frank assessment of her effect on the others. “I just want this to be a great film.”
“That’s what we all want. If you’d spend half as much energy in front of the camera as you do off-screen, there wouldn’t be a star in Hollywood who could hold a candle to you.”
Veronica blossomed visibly under Hank’s deft praise. Molly silently applauded. He seemed to know exactly how to appeal to her sense of vanity. Veronica would not want it known around Hollywood that she and she alone had turned yet another film into a disaster.
“You’re quite a flatterer, Mr. Murdock,” Veronica said, bestowing one of her most brilliant smiles on him. “I think I could learn to adore you. Now let’s get this show under way.”
Hank grinned back at her. “Thank you. I’ll send Jerry for you when we’re ready.”
Molly wondered if Veronica noticed his sigh of relief as he exited the trailer.
“You old fraud,” Molly said, when they were alone. “You knew from the minute he walked in here you were going to do as he asked, didn’t you?”
“It never hurts to remind everyone of who I am,” Veronica said, fluffing her chestnut hair until it fell into its usual sensuous waves. “Of course, I still think Duke Lane is an impertinent twit who’s trying to steal this picture.”
“The better he looks, the better you look,” Molly reminded her. “If the audience doesn’t love him, they’re going to think you’re the twit for chasing after him.”
Veronica’s brow knit as she
considered Molly’s analysis. “You have a point, my dear. Tell Duke I’d like to see him. Perhaps we can put this rivalry to rest.”
Molly wasn’t so sure that was the best idea she’d heard all day, but she left to follow the actress’s instructions. She ran into Michael just outside the door.
“I thought maybe she’d taken you apart in there,” he said.
“I notice you didn’t rush in to my rescue.”
“Last I heard, you preferred to stand up for yourself.”
Molly didn’t bother to respond to that. “She wants to see Duke. Think I dare send him in?”
“You know her mood better than I do. I can always stand guard.”
“Probably not a bad idea.”
Molly found Duke hiding out in his own trailer. “Veronica wants to see you.”
He drew his sunglasses down just low enough to peer at her over the top rim. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. She wants to make amends.”
He looked even more disbelieving, but he settled his glasses back into place and followed Molly back to Veronica’s trailer. He rapped on the door and stepped inside.
Molly and Michael lingered just outside. Just when Molly was convinced that things had to be going smoothly, she heard Veronica’s voice climb.
“Don’t you threaten me,” Duke countered just as loudly. “Push me too hard and I’ll tell everyone what I know about you and Greg Kinsey.”
“You bastard,” Veronica said in a low tone that Molly and Michael heard only because Michael had yanked open the door about two seconds before.
He stepped inside and looked from Duke’s angry face to the flaming pink in Veronica’s cheeks. “Maybe you’d better tell me what you know,” he said quietly to Duke.
Veronica looked shaken. She stared at Duke intently, her expression pleading. He muttered an oath under his breath, then met Michael’s gaze evenly.
“I don’t know a thing,” he said flatly. “I was just blowing off steam.”
“That’s not the way it sounded.”
Duke shrugged. “I’m a hell of an actor.”
Molly and Michael both looked from Duke to Veronica and back again. There wasn’t a doubt in Molly’s mind that Duke was lying through his teeth, but short of hooking him up to a lie detector and questioning him from now till dusk, she couldn’t see any way of getting him to say anymore.
Veronica, on the other hand, looked as if she’d crack if they asked her anything more consequential than her name. Molly couldn’t help wondering why.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Hank saved Veronica from having to say another incriminating word at that moment. He called for both the actress and Duke Lane to shoot their critical farewell scene. Given the high emotions off the set, they should radiate tension on screen.
“The minute you’ve finished, you and I are going to have a little chat,” Michael told the actress as she practically bolted from the trailer.
She glanced toward Molly with a look of pure desperation, but Molly could only shrug. When Michael wanted to question a murder suspect, she could hardly intervene. As much as she didn’t want to believe that Veronica had anything at all to do with Greg’s death, she had no evidence to prove it. As far as she knew, Michael had no evidence to prove otherwise, but then that was exactly what he was hoping to discover in that interrogation.
In front of the camera Veronica’s nervousness was unmistakable, even worse than it had been on the first day of shooting when everyone knew how much was at stake for her in this film.
She blew her first, simple line half a dozen times. Hank spoke to her with incredible patience. Even Duke himself sought to soothe her nerves by taking her aside and whispering to her. She smiled shakily at him, but couldn’t hide the worried, distrustful look in her eyes.
Even so, on the next take, she delivered the lines—all three pages’ worth—flawlessly. It was a bravura performance under the tense conditions. This time, when Hank called “Cut,” the crowd gathered around the perimeter applauded. Duke took Veronica’s hand and kissed it with a dramatic flourish. Clearly flustered by the gesture, she met his gaze. Whatever she saw there must have reassured her because she walked toward Molly and Michael with a renewed spring in her step and a confident set to her shoulders.
“Come along,” she said to them. “You can ride over to Virginia Key with me. Jeffrey should have luncheon waiting in the trailer.”
Indeed the small, damask-covered table was set with expensive silver, crystal, and china. Champagne cooled in a bucket and a colorful fruit salad rested on iced plates. Jeffrey welcomed them as if the luncheon were being served in some elegant dining room rather than in a made-over recreational trailer that had been hurriedly spruced up for Veronica’s temporary use. He’d even added a bouquet of yellow roses, reportedly the actress’s favorite. Veronica said nothing about his efforts. She seemed to take them as her due.
As the trailer left Miami Beach to go to the Virginia Key location, Michael asked Veronica what Duke had been talking about when he’d threatened her earlier.
“After lunch,” she said insistently. “We shouldn’t let all this lovely food go to waste.”
“And after lunch, you’ll use the next scene as an excuse,” Michael said. “Why don’t you just tell me whatever you know now? Get it over with so you don’t ruin your digestion.”
Since no one was eating the beautifully displayed meal, Molly thought worrying about the star’s enjoyment of it was wasted effort.
Veronica finally lifted her gaze until she was staring straight into Michael’s eyes. “I don’t know anything,” she said, her voice steady.
“You’re saying Duke was lying earlier, that his threat meant nothing?”
“That’s what I’m telling you.”
Despite Veronica’s sincere delivery, not even Molly believed her. Michael tried another tack. “Tell me about your relationship with Kinsey.”
“He had a reputation as a hot director. We didn’t always agree. We argued quite a bit, in fact. I’m sure everyone has told you that already.”
“When did you meet?”
“When he contacted me about starring in this movie. Our agents arranged a breakfast meeting at the Beverly Hills Hotel.” She glanced at Molly. “You must let me take you there the next time you fly out to L.A. The place raises the concept of power breakfasts to new heights.”
“Did you and Kinsey get along then?” Michael persisted.
“It was a pleasant breakfast. I believe I had fresh strawberries.”
Molly seriously doubted Michael was interested in the menu. Even so, he inquired pleasantly, “And Mr. Kinsey?”
“Melon, as I recall. Eggs Benedict. I told him he was probably killing himself with all that cholesterol.”
“I’m sure he appreciated your concern,” Michael retorted dryly, just as his beeper went off. He glanced at the calling number, then reached for the cellular phone he’d been carrying around on location.
“O’Hara,” he said tersely once the call went through. He listened intently. The rest of them sat around watching him. Jeffrey tried to break the silence, but Veronica cut him off with a look.
“Okay, got it,” Michael said. “You’ll fax the rest to the office? Right. I’ll call if I need anything else. Thanks.”
All three of them watched him expectantly. He foiled them all by returning at once to that long-ago breakfast at the Polo Lounge of the Beverly Hills Hotel.
“What was your impression of Greg when you met him?”
“He was a pleasant young man,” Veronica said. “What more can I say? You can’t tell how talented someone is just by talking with them. I screened several of his films later that same day. Those told the story. This was someone I knew I should work with. The clippings my agent gave me about his background and successes intrigued me.”
“Did he explain to you why he was so intent on casting you in this picture?”
She hesitated, then said, “No. I assumed he
simply thought I was right for the role.”
“Surely other actresses would have been equally right. Good roles for women your age are tough to come by. Competition must have been fierce.”
“It may have been. I can’t really say. To my knowledge I was the only one Greg ever considered.”
“Why?” Michael repeated.
“Greg is the only one who could answer that.”
“Unfortunately, he’s dead.”
Veronica blinked rapidly at Michael’s harsh tone. “I think we’re all very much aware of that, Detective.”
“But you don’t seem nearly as concerned about finding his killer as I am. Why won’t you tell me what Duke was talking about?”
“I can’t,” she said, her eyes suddenly welling with unshed tears. If it was a deliberate play for sympathy, it didn’t work.
“Can’t or won’t?” he asked, hammering at her. No one had touched a bite of the food on the table. If Molly’s was any example, their stomachs were all tied in knots.
“I don’t know,” Veronica swore. “I’m telling you the truth, Detective. I don’t know what Duke Lane knows or thinks he knows.”
Michael muttered an oath and sat back. “Okay. We’ll save it for later.”
Jeffrey Meyerson scowled at him. “Really, I must protest. Can’t you see how your questions are upsetting her?”
“I’m trying to conduct a murder investigation. People tend to get upset now and then. If Ms. Weston has nothing to hide, then my questions shouldn’t distress her.”
“Your tone would distress Attila the Hun,” Molly mumbled just loud enough for him to hear her clearly. He reached over and circled her wrist with his hand. He applied just enough pressure to warn her to keep her smart remarks to herself.
The minute the trailer pulled into the road to Virginia Key and the quaint, colorful fishing village that had been constructed for use as a working film set, Veronica practically ran in search of Hank. It was the first time she’d ever been on the set before her call.
Michael stood in the doorway and watched her go.
“Are you satisfied?” Molly demanded. “You were actually cruel in there.”
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