The Stuntman

by Maggie Carpenter

  “I thought you’d also be interested in this,” she said keeping up the pretense. “I don’t know if it’s true, but apparently there’s going to be a new reality show based in Malibu.”

  Rustling the paper, she selected another piece of tissue and held it in place.

  Are you being held against your will?

  She stared at his face, and her heart almost stopped when he stared at it in disbelief, then staring up at her, he blinked once.

  “There are also some interesting stories in People. One of them is all about the next Miss USA Pageant.”

  Almost trembling, she held up the second question.

  Is it okay to call the police?

  He stared at her, terror in his face, and blinked twice. She’d written more questions, but thinking she might be pushing her luck she decided it was all she needed to know.

  “I’m not sure if I’ll back to see you tomorrow,” she said as she stuffed the small pieces of tissues back into her bra, “but I may be coming home with you to nurse you back to health. I just have to work out a few things with Mr. Simons. Enjoy your magazines.”

  The deception had gone perfectly. Even if Fred Simons had crept up behind her and been covertly watching he wouldn’t have seen what she’d been doing. Filled with confidence, another idea popped into her head.

  “Oops, I have a text,” she announced standing up.

  Walking around the corner towards Fred Simons, as she held up her phone pretending to text, she snapped his picture. Seeing him glance up she dropped it back in her pocket and shook her head.

  “Sorry about that,” she apologized. “Another surprised friend. Everyone thought I’d be working here forever.”

  “Miss Harris, please, sit down,” he said, not responding to her remark. “You mentioned you have some questions, but before we begin there is something rather personal I neglected to ask you earlier. Do you have a partner? Are you involved in a relationship?”

  “Um, no,” she lied, though she had no idea why she’d just denied Blake’s existence.

  “I’m sorry if you found that intrusive, but partners, boyfriends, spouses, they can interfere. If you need to stay on the job longer, for example, they might complain. We prefer those who work for us be unattached.”

  “I see.”

  “So there’s no one you spend a great deal of time with, no one special?”

  Why is he asking me this? He’s probing. Shit. Does he know I’ve been gone overnight? That car, that car on the street the other night.

  “I have a girlfriend who lives on the beach in Malibu. Sometimes I drive out there and stay over. It’s so peaceful, and the trauma center can be very stressful. She has a couple of cats, and she travels, so when she leaves town I cat sit.”

  “It’s good to have a place to get away from things,” he nodded.

  “Yes, it works for both of us,” she remarked sensing her answer had satisfied him.

  “That takes care of that end of things. What is it you need to ask me?”

  “Thank you. I’m just curious. Why do you want me in particular? There are other nurses here, nurses who have been caring for Mr. Barrett.”

  “You took a personal interest in him. He looked forward to your visits. Anything else?” he asked curtly.

  “I assume my room will have a television, and internet access, so I can use my laptop.”

  “Ah, your laptop. We will provide you with a computer. If you wish it to be a laptop, we can provide you with that. Do you prefer a Mac or a PC?”

  “I can’t bring my own?”

  “It’s a security matter,” he said firmly. “Remember, we are only talking about five days.”

  “Yes, right, five days,” she repeated. “A Mac, then.”

  “Miss Harris, if there’s nothing else, will you accept this position?” he pushed. “I must know.”

  “Yes, thank you. I’d be delighted to take care of Mr. Barrett.”

  “Excellent. A car will pick you up the day after tomorrow at noon.”

  “I can drive up there.”

  “No, we will provide transport.”

  “If you would prefer it, thank you. Don’t you need my address?”

  “Yes, of course,” he said awkwardly, “I should have asked. Thank you for reminding me.”

  “I’ll write it out for you,” she offered. “Do you have a pen?”

  “Yes, here,” he said handing her a pen that was laying on the table, “and you can write it on this paper.”

  Taking her time, she wrote down her name and address, holding the pen near the very top, then casually keeping hold of it she continued talking.

  “Does Mr. Barrett have any particular taste in movies? I have a number of DVD’s I could bring up.”

  “We have an extensive library, and anything he wants we can get for him,” he replied standing up, a subtle signal their meeting was over.

  “You certainly have plenty of paperwork to deal with,” she remarked nodding at the table.

  “Yes, I do,” he said, and as he dropped his eyes to the files, she picked up her bag and surreptitiously dropped the pen inside.

  “Thank you for your time,” she said walking to the door. “I have a few things to take care of before I leave, so I might not be back tomorrow.”

  “Understandable. Then I’ll see you when you arrive at the house. Goodbye, Miss Harris.”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Simons.”

  Though her heart was thumping and her pulse was racing, she walked calmly past the two guards and steadily down the hallway, but when she entered the elevator she leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths. When the doors opened on the ground floor she didn’t stop in the ladies room, but hurried out to her car. As she pulled out of the parking lot she checked her rearview mirror. A dark grey sedan had pulled out behind her and was two cars back.

  “Shit,” she muttered, and touching her console, connecting her phone to her bluetooth, she called Blake.

  “Hello? Is everything okay?” he asked urgently.

  “Blake, wait until I tell you what just happened. I was right.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Blake had listened intently as Belinda relayed what had happened with George Barrett and Fred Simons. He’d been taken aback by the news, and wasn’t sure what to say when she said told him she’d accepted the job offer.

  “It just came out of my mouth,” she declared. “I felt like I had to say yes.”

  “We’ll talk about it more when you get here,” he replied. “Drive safely.”

  A short time later Josh returned from his extended hike, and when he stopped in Blake’s room to check on him, Blake asked him to pull up a chair, then relayed the details of the unfolding drama.

  “I’m telling you all this because I have a feeling I might need your help,” Blake finished.

  “Hey, I’ll be happy to pitch in,” Josh said enthusiastically.

  “Are you sure? I don’t know where this is going to take Belinda and me, so if you don’t want to be involved I certainly understand, no hard feelings, no problem.”

  “I definitely want to be involved, and thank you for trusting me,” Josh said eagerly. “What can I do? Just tell me.”

  “I’m not sure yet. Maybe nothing. I was going to say you could go home if you want, but if you don’t mind sticking around a while it might be a good idea.”

  “Sure,” he nodded. “Wow, talk about things happening. All I did was go for a hike.”

  “No kidding,” Blake said grimly.

  “I’m going to jump in the shower then have something to eat. I’ll be around, just yell and I’ll come running.”

  “Thanks, Josh. It’s great to know you’re on board.”

  His protege grinned proudly then left the room. Feeling assured that he’d have some backup if he needed it, Blake returned to his research, but it was only a few minutes later that his phone rang. When he saw it was Belinda he hastily answered.

  “I’m being followed,” she said ner
vously. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “You’re being followed? Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I thought I was when I left the hospital, but I wasn’t sure so I didn’t say anything.”

  “That’s very disturbing,” he muttered.

  “I couldn’t sleep the other night, and when I got up to get some hot milk I looked out my window and saw a car parked on the street with its interior lights on. Someone was reading a newspaper. It was two-o’clock in the morning! I thought it was a cop on a stakeout but I think I was wrong. I think it was one of Simon’s guys. That’s why they knew I’d been gone overnight. What do I do? I’m nearing the turnoff to drive up the canyon.”

  “You told Simons you have a girlfriend who lives on the beach in Malibu, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Let me think a minute.”

  “I feel as if I’m living in a movie,” Belinda mumbled. “It’s all so bizarre.”

  “I wish you were. This is real life and I don’t like it,” Blake said solemnly. “Okay, this is how you lose him without letting on you knew you were being tailed. Do you know that health food store next to Ralphs in the Malibu shopping center?”

  “Sure. I know it.”

  “You can walk through that store into the parking lot behind it. Drive into the main parking lot, the big one in front of the drug store and the Post Office, you know where I mean?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Go into the vitamin store and go straight through to the back. Josh will be waiting for you in the Porsche. If you’re ever asked about it, which I doubt you will be, but if you are, you can say you always park your car in that lot and walk through to Malibu Road because parking is impossible near your friend’s house. I know someone who used to do that.”

  “Blake, that’s a fabulous idea. If Josh leaves the house now he’ll probably beat me by about five minutes.”

  “I’ll rustle him up. He just left to take a shower. Drive safely, and just for the record...”

  “What?”

  “As clever as you were, using that tissue to talk to Barrett was risky.”

  “Not really,” she protested.

  “Yes, really, and you know it. I’ll bet your heart was racing. We’re going to have a conversation about that later. Like I said, drive safely. We don’t need anything else happening.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  As Blake climbed out of bed and ambled down the hallway, he was surprised at how strong he felt.

  “Interesting,” he mumbled. “Except for the cut hurting a bit, I feel almost normal.”

  Walking into the guest room he knocked on the bathroom door.

  “Josh, I need you. It’s urgent.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Josh called back.

  Blake perched on the edge of the bed to wait, and as Josh stepped from the bathroom, still dripping water with a towel around his waist, Blake quickly gave him the rundown.

  “Don’t waste any time when you leave that parking lot. The second she’s in the car take off.”

  “Right. I’ll call you when we’re on our way back. You look better by the way,” he said as he pulled on some jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

  “I feel it. I think it was that chicken soup Belinda brought home.”

  “Okay, I’m outta here,” Josh declared hurrying from the room.

  “Good luck. Don’t speed, drive safe. The last thing we need is a cop pulling you over,” Blake called after him.

  “Right, good point, thanks,” Josh called back.

  His laptop, a yellow pad, and a pen, were still sitting on top of the bedspread where he’d left them. It was how he worked when he was choreographing a fight scene, or configuring a stunt. He’d research on the internet, then scribble thoughts and ideas down on paper.

  Propping up the pillows he leaned back on the headboard, and picking up his pen he began to write. As he did a plan started coming together. He’d have another full day with Belinda to work out the details, and if the plan came together the way he thought it would, he was going to need Josh’s help.

  From his research Blake was sure he’d figured out who the criminals were who had hijacked George Barrett’s life, and it wasn’t good news. He was also convinced they wanted Belinda at Barrett’s house because she’d been the nurse on duty the night Barrett been brought in, and they were worried he may have said something to her. He suspected they’d have her nurse him back to health, then she’d have some kind of accident. That’s why they’d asked if she had a man in her life. A concerned boyfriend or husband could have presented a problem.

  What he really wanted to do was turn the whole shebang over to the police, but Barrett had made it clear Belinda was not to call them. There was, however, one man Blake could contact.

  His name was Brian Reilly, and he was an agent with the FBI. Blake had worked with him on a film for six months, during which time they’d become good friends. Reaching for the phone, hoping he was making the right decision, Blake placed the call.

  * * *

  When Belinda turned left on to the small street off Pacific Coast Highway that would take her into the parking lot in front of the grocery store, she got lucky. The traffic was heavy, and she was the last car through the intersection before the lefthand turn signal turned red. Glancing in her rear view mirror she saw the grey sedan was stuck. She immediately called Blake and told him the good news.

  “I can come back to your place,” she said happily. “I’ve lost them. They’re stuck at a light.”

  “That’s great,” he exclaimed, “but wait, let me think about this. Hmm, do as we planned. Do you have another bag in your car besides the one you took to the hospital?”

  “Yes, I have a tote bag in the back seat.”

  “If they’re stuck at a light you probably have a couple of minutes. Park where I said then change bags, and while you’re doing it look for a small black object. Something you might not notice, maybe in a zippered compartment somewhere, or at the bottom of your bag. Stay on the phone with me.”

  “Okay, I’m pulling into a parking space now. I’m surrounded by cars, they’ll have a hard finding me.”

  “Not if they’ve done what I think they have. Check your bag.”

  As Belinda quickly transferred her belongings, she unzipped the small compartment where she’d safely stowed Blake’s note, and shoving her fingers into the corners she felt something.

  “Oh, my gosh, Blake, I found it.”

  “I thought you might. Leave it there and skedaddle. Make sure to set the car alarm.”

  “Shit. This is freaking me out!”

  “Don’t freak out. Stay calm. Do you have everything?”

  “Yes, I think so, yes I do. I’m leaving the car now.”

  “Get into the health food store before they see you.”

  “Okay, I walking across to it,” she replied. “The car is locked up and the alarm is set.”

  “Good. Now, listen, There’s a red baseball cap and pair of sunglasses in the glove compartment of the Porsche. Put them on and you won’t have to duck down on the drive back here.”

  “Got it.”

  Clutching her tote bag she moved quickly through the aisles of the small store, and as she pushed open the back door she saw Blake’s white Porsche waiting for her.

  “Josh is here. I’m getting in the Porsche now,” she exclaimed.

  “Great. Hang up and call me back when you’re on the road.”

  “Okay!”

  Ending the call, she dropped the phone in her tote bag and hurried across to the car.

  “Hey, Josh. Sure is good to see you,” she said as she climbed in.

  “Keep your head down, and stay down until I tell you to get up,” Josh said firmly.

  “You sounded just like Blake then,” she replied opening the glove compartment and pulling out the hat and sunglasses.

  “Oh, I see,” he said as he headed out of the parking lot. “Were they close to you when you left your
car?”

  “No, they got stuck in the line of traffic when I turned left at the light. I thought I could just go back to Blake’s but I called him and he told me to search my bag. He was right, I found a GPS tracker.”

  “Blake, so smart. That’s great, both things, them getting stuck and you finding that thing. Luck is on our side. I love it when stuff like that happens. I’m going to drive up Malibu Road and hit PCH from the far end just to be on the safe side.”

  “Good idea,” she agreed.

  “Call Blake, let him know I’ve got you.”

  “He knows, but I said I’d call him when we were out of the parking lot,” she replied.

  Pulling her cell from her bag she dialed him back.

  “You on your way?” he asked urgently.

  “Yes, thank goodness,” she replied.

  “Where are you?”

  “We’re heading down Malibu Road, and we’ll turn back on to PCH when we hit the end.”

  “That’s great. I’m so glad you spotted them.”

  “I’m so glad you thought about a tracker. This thing just becomes more bizarre by the hour.”

  “No kidding,” he grunted. “I’ll see you when you get here.”

  Letting out a long, heavy sigh, Blake closed his eyes and said a thank you to the heavens, and as he did a thought rattled through his brain.

  If I hadn’t had this freak accident I’d be at work right now. Belinda would be at the hospital. She’d be thinking about going to work for Barrett and we may never have talked it through like we did. Maybe the football bounced in our favor after all. Huh. My accident may well have been the very best thing that could have happened.

  Chapter Thirty

  Unable to stay still a minute longer, Blake left his bed and ambled across to the bathroom to take a shower. Stepping into the stall, doing his best avoid the water hitting his bandages, he closed his eyes and felt the hot, cleansing shower splash over his body. Drying off he dressed in a comfortable sweat suit, and when Josh and Belinda arrived back at the house they found him in the kitchen eating some toast and drinking coffee.

  “You’re up,” she exclaimed.

  “You do have a firm grasp of the obvious,” he smiled. “How do you feel? Is everything okay? Any sign of them after you left?”