Lisa sat back and considered her time in LA. One of her favorite regulars at the Coffee Spot had been a screenwriter with a bunch of hit movies on his résumé. She remembered serving him a hot chai latte and eavesdropping on a conversation one morning when an unusual rainstorm had made him sit inside instead of out on the patio. He’d been on the phone with what sounded like his agent or manager, complaining about a contract negotiation. He’d said he didn’t want any monkey points this time, just cash up front.
“Sorry to eavesdrop,” she’d said, “but I have to ask. What are monkey points?”
He smiled and ran a hand over his ragged two-day beard. “It’s one of the studios’ favorite ways to screw you. They promise you a cut of the net profits. But their accounting guarantees nothing ever makes a profit.”
“Nothing?”
“Kid, even Casablanca hasn’t made a profit yet, if you believe the studio.”
“Can’t someone sue?”
He laughed. “You think no one’s tried? The one thing studios have more of than crooked accountants is crooked lawyers.”
“Oh.”
“And I rather like my career. Hate to be black-balled, you know?” He winked at her. “Take it from me, kid, your agent ever offers you points on the net, you need a better agent.”
She remembered thinking that even having an agent would be a minor miracle. Now, she thought about Gavin’s claim that the debt collector had been a joke, and wondered just how much debt he was in.
Chapter 19
Lisa stood by the craft service table and fretted, watching the sun start on its path toward setting, and still no sign of the end of filming for the day. She was ready to pack up her gear and get back to the café. She had left a note for Jan instructing her to close the café early if the time for her appointment arrived before Lisa did. The thought of lost profits, and of customers disappointed, nagged at her. Once a business got a reputation for being unreliable, it was hard to regain trust. Sure, Penny had gone on a long vacation, closing Baldwin-Chance Mountain Realty for a month, but she had decades of reliability behind her. Lisa’s Last Chance Café had mere months.
When the final “Cut” was called, Lisa rushed to pack things into her car. It was already the time when Jan had planned to leave for the dentist, but Lisa hoped that if she hurried, maybe she could cover things with almost no gap.
The wind whipped her hair at her face as she shoved carafes and boxes into the trunk. The air was cold and dry, with a biting feeling on the skin that spoke of a clear night with no clouds and no snow, just freezing cold.
Rushing to get out of the parking area, Lisa slammed her brakes in frustration when Tyrone pulled his big rental in front of her. He was a total city driver, driving slowly over the bumpy gravel. City people never understood that there was a speed you could drive over gravel roads that would minimize the jarring bumps you suffered. They always wanted to go slow enough to feel every rock and rut.
She spotted a turnoff up ahead. She was pretty sure she knew that road. If she turned there, she could take a shortcut and get around Tyrone’s slow vehicle, cutting back onto the regular road before it got to the highway junction. She’d have to drive fast on the shortcut, as it was actually a little longer than the regular way, but with a country driver at the wheel, it would be faster.
The turn arrived and she spun the wheel, taking the path through the woods. The sky through the trees glowed peachy orange. If she could stop and watch the stars come out, it would be a perfect spot to see every constellation, especially on such a cold, clear night.
Lisa was thinking about the stars and driving fast over the little-used side road when she felt the tires lose traction. She gave a little scream as the car fishtailed and spun, finally gliding to a stop against a snowbank.
She put the car into park and sat and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. Her heart hammered in her chest.
The seatbelt was painful across her ribs. She would probably have bruises by morning. She felt around for any other injury and was glad to find none.
After a few more deep breaths, she put the car in reverse to get out of the snowbank. With a rev and a whine, the car spun its wheels but went nowhere. She put it in park again and turned off the motor. Was she stuck? Only one way to find out.
Lisa got out of the car and went around to the back. The wheels were barely touching the ground. She crouched down and looked under the vehicle, and saw that she’d landed halfway past a little ditch. Her rear tires were above the ditch, and the center of the car was resting on a higher piece of ground.
She put her face in her hands. Why hadn’t she listened to Mo and put the snow tires on? That little bit of extra traction might have been enough to keep her on the road. Now she was stuck, out on a side road in the cold and rapidly darkening woods.
Lisa took out her phone. If she could get reception, she could call for help. She looked and rejoiced. There was reception, although it showed only one bar. She punched the button to call Mo.
His number rang twice before he picked up. “Lisa, hello,” he said, his voice warm and affectionate.
“I did a silly thing and now I need help,” she admitted. “I slid off the road and my car is stuck in a ditch.”
There was silence on the line. Lisa’s heart sped up, waiting for him to chastise her for not being more careful, for not listening to him about the snow tires.
After a minute of silence, she looked at the phone. It had dropped the call. Now there were zero bars, no reception at all.
Lisa sighed. She would have to hike out toward the road and see if the reception improved. Otherwise, if she got to the main road, she would have to flag down someone to help.
At first, she walked along looking at her phone, waiting for bars of reception to show up. But the cold bit into her hands, and she shoved them in her coat pockets, stopping every few yards to check the phone again. She was almost to the turnoff to the gravel road between the set and the highway when she got a bar of reception again.
Lisa redialed Mo’s number.
“Hello? Lisa, are you ok?” he said. “We got cut off. Where are you?”
“I’m on a little forest road off the road to the little canyon. I turned off to take a shortcut, and—” The phone was suspiciously silent. She looked at it. Another call cut short and no reception again.
Lisa sighed and decided she’d have to hike out to the road and find help. The cell service was just too spotty here.
The wind whistled through the trees, sending icy fingers down her neck. She alternated between keeping her hands in her pockets and rubbing them up and down her arms to try to restore some warmth and circulation. She was glad to be on a road. Being lost in the woods in winter like this could be dangerous.
At last, she came upon the place where she’d turned off the road. Why oh why had she done such a silly thing, she berated herself. No, this was no time to think of the past with regret, it was time to find some help and get in out of the cold. She imagined sitting down to a nice hot cocoa with a purring cat in her lap to warm her.
A set of headlights appeared and Lisa ran into the road, waving her arms in the air and yelling for help. For a moment she was afraid the driver wouldn’t see her, might even hit her like a deer jumping into the roadway. But thankfully the driver stopped.
Chapter 20
The car door opened and Dylan stepped out. “Lisa? My goodness, what happened to you?”
“Shortcut,” she said, “slid off the road.” Her teeth chattered as a big bout of shivers overtook her.
“Come on, get in,” he said. He brought her around to the passenger side of his rental car and helped her inside. He got in the other side and turned the heater on full blast. “Are you ok?”
She held her hands in front of the heater vents. Her fingers ached as the heat chased out the cold. She still couldn’t stop shaking. A tear dripped down her cheek.
“I thought I was going to freeze to death,” she whispered. As she said it, she re
alized it was true. She had believed she was about to die. She laughed, snorting back another round of tears.
Dylan looked at her like she was buggy. “Should I take you to the hospital?”
“No, of course not,” she said.
“Your mom’s house?”
“No, take me home. To the Folly. I’m fine.” She laughed, a note of hysteria creeping in. “I’m alive!”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Good. Can I at least come in with you?”
She shrugged. “Sure. Come in and have a cocoa. A rescue cocoa.” She giggled again. “Maybe I should put that on the menu, Rescue Cocoa.”
“Sure, why not?” he said. “Let’s just get you home.”
“Oh! What about my car? My stuff is all in the trunk.”
“That’s what tow trucks are for,” he said. “Did you get the number of the forest road where you turned off?”
“Um, no. But it was the first one after leaving the set, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
When they got to the Folly, Lisa took in the sight of the beautiful house and sighed with contentment. She’d loved the 1870s mansion since she was a kid. Getting to live and work there every day still felt like a dream sometimes. After fearing for her life, the house’s tall windows and mansard roof were even more welcome to her eyes than usual.
Dylan put the rental car in park, and Lisa suddenly remembered the last time she was at the Folly with him. They were kids in high school, part of a group that liked to break in and hang out in the expansive rooms of the abandoned house. Dylan had led her up to the third-floor tower and opened the French doors to the balcony.
“Someday, all this will be yours,” he’d intoned.
When she looked out over the lights of the town, he spun her around and kissed her, dipping her back over the railing and making her dizzy and giddy with the romance of youth.
The night had ended poorly when the cops showed up, and Dylan had slipped out the back way with everyone else. Lisa had taken the trespassing rap, going to jail for it when she refused to give up the others.
Lisa still loved the house, and she was still proud that she’d not ratted anyone out. But being at the Folly with Dylan again felt wrong somehow. It was like a ghost from the past had invaded her present.
“So, rescue cocoa?” he said, opening her car door.
She sighed and got out. She couldn’t very well let him rescue her and then turn him away after promising cocoa. She led the way inside.
Dylan followed her into the kitchen and watched as she got the cocoa ready. Mama Cat came in and sniffed his boot, then turned away with a flick of her tail. She head-butted Lisa’s leg until Lisa reached down to scratch behind her ears.
“Cute cat,” Dylan said.
Lisa nodded and gave him a cup. They went into the library and sat down. Lisa was still wearing her coat, but was finally starting to feel warm again. She reached in her coat pocket and pulled out her phone. On the Krumbsi app, she pulled up the photo of Big Ugly and showed it to Dylan.
“Any idea who this is?” she said.
He squinted at the screen a minute before shaking his head. “Nope.”
“Hmm, I thought he knocked on all the doors over at the Lucky Horseshoe.”
“Oh, that explains it. I’m staying at my parents’ while we’re here.”
Lisa’s phone rang. She took it back and looked at the screen.
“Oh, no!”
“What’s wrong?”
She answered the call. “Mo, I’m so sorry I didn’t call you back!”
“Lisa? Are you ok?”
“Yes, I’m at home.” She glanced at Dylan. “I slid off the road. Someone picked me up and gave me a ride.”
Dylan frowned. “Is that the new boyfriend?” he said.
“Shh,” she hissed at him.
“Is someone there?” Mo said. “Your Good Samaritan? Put them on the phone so I can say thanks. I was so worried about you.”
“No, that’s ok, you don’t have to say thanks,” Lisa said into the phone.
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “He wants to thank me? Sounds good to me.” Viper-quick, he snatched the phone out of Lisa’s hand and put it to his ear. “Hello?”
Dylan listened for a moment, fending off Lisa’s attempt to get her phone back. “This is Dylan, Lisa’s boyfriend. Who’s this?”
He listened again, grinning. “Ok, I’m going to let you go now. I don’t want to keep Lisa waiting on our night together.” He hung up.
“What is wrong with you?” Lisa exploded. “Give me back my phone!”
Dylan grinned, the same grin he’d worn when they were teenagers playing hide and seek and kiss in the big house. He jumped out of his chair and darted out of the room. “Catch me if you can,” he teased.
Lisa ran after him. She needed to get that phone back and call Mo. What was Dylan playing at, to do something like this?
“Give it back!”
Dylan laughed. “Come and get it.” He jumped over the rope in front of the stairs and jogged up to her apartment on the second floor.
Lisa stalked after him. “This isn’t funny,” she called as she marched up the stairs.
All was quiet upstairs. She looked into the living room. No Dylan. The kitchen. No Dylan. She sighed and went toward the bedroom. There he was. Of course. Lisa folded her arms and scowled at him.
Dylan grinned at her from his comfy perch, sprawled across her bed, her phone in his hand.
“Oh, there you are,” he said. “Join me?” He patted the mattress beside him.
“Give me the phone.” She stayed in the doorway, not interested in playing games with him.
“Ah, ah, ah, come and get it,” he said, still smiling. He swiped the screen.
Lisa held out her hand. “I want my phone. I’m not playing.”
He patted the bed again. She wondered what she’d ever seen in him. He smirked at her. Lisa ground her teeth. If she went in and tried to take the phone back, he would think she was playing, and would probably try to wrestle her onto the bed. Not good. But standing there watching him look through her phone was infuriating. She clenched her fists, then looked around the room for something she could throw at him.
A fuzzy cannonball landed on the bed. A moment later Dylan yelped. Mama Cat swiped at his hand again, claws extended. He dropped the phone and scooted off the edge of the bed, thumping onto the floor.
“Ow! Your stupid cat just scratched me,” he yelled.
Mama Cat stood her ground in the center of the bed, hissing at him. Her tail was puffed out to three times its normal size.
Dylan stood up and threw a dirty look at the cat. Lisa moved forward.
“Don’t touch her,” she warned. “Mama Cat can be very protective.”
“Look what she did to my hand.”
“Maybe you’d better go wash that off.”
He took a step toward her bathroom.
“Downstairs,” she said, pointing.
She moved aside from the doorway to let him pass. As his footsteps clomped down the stairs, Lisa went to the bed. She sat down and held out a hand for Mama Cat to sniff. The cat rubbed a cheek against the outstretched hand. Lisa petted her, murmuring sweet nothings.
Over the sound of purring, she heard a knock on the front door.
“Oh, we’d better get that,” she told Mama Cat. Lisa pocketed her phone.
They went down the stairs together, Lisa carefully holding the railing to keep from tripping as the cat took the center of the stairway.
Lisa opened the front door. Mo stood on the porch, looking worried. She hugged him. Mo was stiff for a moment, then folded his arms around her.
“Are you ok?” he said.
“I am now.”
He held her at arm’s length and peered at her. “Who was that on the phone? And what did he mean by boyfriend?”
The bathroom door opened and Dylan walked out. He’d taken his shirt off and was holding it in one hand. Mo frowned at the display of pecs and abs.
“That’s Dylan. He left out the all-important syllable: EX. He’s my EX-boyfriend.”
“Really,” Mo said.
She turned her head and saw that Dylan was flexing at them. “What is wrong with you? Why is your shirt off?”
“It got wet.”
She sighed. “We probably have something in the lost and found bin. I don’t want you to be cold on your way home.”
“Never mind,” Dylan said. He pulled his shirt over his head.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said. “Don’t forget your coat.”
He went and retrieved his coat from the library. “See you on set,” he said.
She closed the door behind him and let out a big breath.
“What was that all about?” Mo said.
“Want some cocoa?”
“Sure.” He followed her to the kitchen where she started making two more cups of cocoa. “What was that all about?” he repeated.
“After the call dropped, I hiked out to the road and flagged down a car,” she said. “Marshmallows?”
“Sure.”
She dropped some mini-marshmallows in both cups. “He was the first car that came along.”
“Quite a coincidence,” he said.
She handed him the mug and studied his face. “What are you saying? You don’t trust me?”
He sighed. “I don’t trust that guy. You really dated him?”
“Yes. Until he cheated on me. I already told you about that.”
“I guess I didn’t expect that the first time I’d meet this cheater would be at your house where he was alone with you and shirtless.”
“He was washing a scratch on his hand. It was his first time meeting Mama Cat, too, and they did not get along.”
Mo chuckled. “I shouldn’t laugh at that.”
Shooting on Location (Lisa Chance Cozy Mysteries Book 2) Page 13
