by Sam Cameron
Boyle turned off the road and pulled up alongside a chain link fence. “Here’s the yard. You need help getting your car out?”
The offer was tempting, if only to prolong being in Boyle’s company. But Robin didn’t want her to think she was just some kid who needed help.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Take care of yourself,” Boyle said. “Call me if you need anything.”
A few minutes later, faced with the staggering bill for her car, Robin almost did call Boyle back. “This is a ridiculous amount of money,” she told the tow yard clerk. “It’s extortion!”
The guy snapped his bubblegum. “Pay it or don’t. Doesn’t matter to me.”
She forked over her debit card but took note of his name so she could write a formal complaint. She wasn’t actually sure she had that much money in her account. While waiting for it to clear, she felt her phone buzz with a message.
Karen had texted her: must talk to you immediately.
Chapter Ten
The Southernmost Point at the corner of Whitehead and South was literally the southernmost point of the continental United States. More or less. Because she’d done a report for social studies class once, Robin knew there were also some sandbars and private islands in serious contention for the honor. This was the most popular spot, however, and it was marked with a big concrete buoy painted red, yellow, white, and black. Usually, the corner was busy with tourists, tour buses, and souvenir hawkers. Today, it had been cordoned off by equipment trailers and security ropes for the filming of Then Again Christine and John.
Robin had to park several streets away and walk over to the temporary guard shack. The guard on duty was Bill, the same one who’d escorted her away on Monday.
“You’re not allowed on the set,” he said immediately.
“I am, too,” she said. “I’m here to see Karen Francine.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Luckily, Karen was only a text message away. Robin waited amid the fans and gawkers until Karen appeared and told Bill, “It’s okay, she’s with me.”
Bill pulled back the rope with a docile, “Yes, Miss Francine,” but his look toward Robin was unmistakably hostile.
Karen was wearing white shorts and a periwinkle blouse that matched her eyes. Thin blue sandals showed off her perfectly manicured pink toes. She squeezed Robin’s hand and said, “Thanks for coming. Let’s go somewhere private.”
Robin would have liked it if Karen kept holding her hand. Just the touch of her soft fingers was a thrill, and it would be even more amazing if all these people saw it, too. Unfortunately, Karen dropped her hand as she led Robin through a maze of film equipment and lights.
Robin tried to keep pace while at the same time absorb details of the set and not knock over anything expensive. Thick cables crisscrossing the ground made the going tricky. Today’s extras were dressed in silvery clothing that was supposed to be futuristic. Liam Norcott, also decked out in silver and black, was posing for pictures by a sleek motorcycle that was the movie’s time machine.
They stopped at a locked trailer door, where an assistant in a white skirt and black short-sleeve blouse was pushing buttons on the keypad. She was Karen’s age or a little older, and the kind of naturally pretty girl who could look glamorous in a bathrobe.
“Hi, Karen,” the assistant said. “I’m trying to drop these off.”
Karen said, “He changed the combo yesterday, Cayleigh. I thought he told you.”
Cayleigh’s gaze raked over Robin. It was one of those evaluating gazes that implied all sorts of value judgments, and Robin wanted to poke her in the eyes for it.
“I thought he said—well, never mind. Can you leave these for me?” Cayleigh gave them a brisk, professional smile. “Thanks.”
Karen took the stack of papers and waited for Cayleigh to leave before she entered the code.
Robin said, “You don’t like her.”
“Doesn’t matter what I think. She’s not my assistant.” The door popped open. Karen said, “Come on, and watch your step.”
Robin followed her up three steps into the most opulent trailer on earth. It had burnished wooden paneling, recessed LED lighting, twin leather sofas with matching armchairs, three wall-mounted television screens, a kitchenette full of gleaming equipment—and there, in the corner, a floor-to-ceiling aquarium full of tropical fish.
It was appalling.
No, worse than appalling. Tragic.
Robin said, “This is…” but she couldn’t make herself finish.
“Liam’s trailer.” Karen opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of cold water. “He won’t mind. Is water okay? There’s soda and juice, too.”
Robin took the bottle. She was actually standing in the middle of Liam Norcott’s trailer. The mobile environmental disaster. She could see why he took it with him everywhere. It was egotistical and ridiculous, just like he was.
Karen sat on one of the leather sofas. “The head of the studio found out about Juliet and he’s livid. He thinks she ran off to go party somewhere. We only have two and a half days of shooting left, but this could derail everything.”
“I saw that online,” Robin said.
“It’s online already?” Karen rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Terrific. Please tell me you’ve found out something.”
Robin eyed the sofa. She couldn’t sit on leather and keep a good conscience, so she remained standing.
“Juliet and Liam didn’t have dinner on Sunday night,” Robin said. “I talked to two witnesses who both said they were at separate restaurants with other people.”
“What?” Karen nearly spilled her water bottle. “How can that be?”
“You’re the one who said they went to Angelo’s. How do you know?”
Karen pursed her lips in thought. “They met in the bungalow and told me they were going there together. Both of them seemed anxious about something. But I didn’t go with them, no.”
Robin kept her voice neutral. She didn’t want Karen to think she was accusing her of anything. “You said that after dinner they came back together and fought. You saw that?”
“Well, no,” Karen admitted. “I was in my bed with a migraine. But I heard them through the wall. Juliet and Liam—or I guess I thought it was Liam. It was a male voice. Who else could it be?”
“I don’t know,” Robin said.
Karen folded her hands in her lap and sighed unhappily. “Did I mess everything up? Did I ruin our chances of finding her?”
Robin wanted to reassure her. She didn’t want Karen to be upset or anxious. But the changing story was suspicious, wasn’t it? Robin tried to imagine how Michelle Boyle might approach the case. Calm, cool-headed Boyle.
“You said yesterday that you told Liam to go home,” Robin reminded her. “Did you get out of bed or yell it through the wall?”
“I opened my door and I called out to them,” Karen said. “Juliet answered, but he didn’t. That should have been my clue it wasn’t Liam. I feel awful. What if it was the man who took her?”
Robin decided to sacrifice her principles and sit next to Karen on the leather sofa. She ignored the cool, slick feel of animal hide and patted Karen’s knee. “Why would they tell you they were going together if they didn’t? Why deceive you?”
Karen considered the question. Behind her, tiny blue fish darted in and out of a large white castle in the aquarium. Robin wondered who took care of the fish. Probably not Liam himself.
“Juliet has so-called friends who aren’t friends at all,” Karen admitted. “They do things for her. Things I won’t.”
“Such as?”
“I can’t say.” Karen put her hand on Robin’s arm. “But you’ve read the tabloids. You can guess.”
Drugs. She had to be talking about drugs. Robin quenched her dismay. It was one thing to hear rumors, another to hear them almost-but-not-quite confirmed.
“You think Juliet was meeting one of these friends?” R
obin asked.
“I don’t know. They’re supposed to all be back in California, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she flew one in. Or made new ones. The thing about Juliet is that people always want to help her, or use her, or take advantage.”
“And what about Liam? Why would he lie to you?”
Karen’s gaze darted around the trailer. “Do you see any personal pictures?”
“No.”
“He’s very guarded about his personal life,” Karen said. “He has to be. Juliet and I are as close to him as anyone, and still he doesn’t tell us everything. Do you know who he was with? Did your witness say?”
Robin hesitated. She felt as if she were betraying a confidence in some way. Then again, it wasn’t a government secret.
“Just another guy,” she said. “I don’t have his name. But I do want to show you a picture. Do you recognize this man?”
Robin showed Karen her phone. Karen stared at the photo of the man who’d robbed Melanie Love-Sweet.
“I’ve seen him around,” she said. “He’s part of the crew, but I don’t know his name. He was with Liam?”
“No, but maybe with Juliet. I’d like to find him and talk to him.”
Karen’s phone rang. When she checked the screen, Robin saw the caller was Michael Lake.
“Yes, Michael,” Karen said when she answered. She listened intently. “I’m not—no, of course. Okay, I’ll be right there.”
After hanging up, she said, “The head of the studio wants to talk to us on a conference call. It shouldn’t take long. Will you stay here, hang out?”
Robin asked, “Are you sure Liam won’t mind?”
“I’ll tell him,” Karen reassured her. “I’ll be right back.”
The trailer seemed to double in size once Robin was alone in it. She moved off the dreadful leather sofa and stood at the aquarium, watching the fish swim in circles. Such a terrible fate, to move around and around and never get anywhere. It occurred to her that Sean would probably appreciate a picture or two, so she snapped some and sent them to him with a note.
Her phone buzzed a moment later with his response: you are not really in his trailer!
Robin gleefully typed back: yes totally am.
Take video, his next message read.
Robin tapped the video button and turned in a circle to catch all the details. Because it was recording voice as well, she said, “Here it is, Liam Norcott’s trailer, and I’m here and you’re not.”
Curiosity led her down the carpeted hall. She peeked behind some closed doors. One was a closet for winter gear, totally useless in Key West. Another held tuxedos and dress shoes. The clothes smelled like men’s cologne. One door was a bathroom that had a glass shower stall and a twin vanity.
“This is Liam’s soap,” she said, zooming in for Sean’s benefit. “And this is where he urinates. Hope you’re enjoying it.”
It was wrong, and she knew it. Karen had not left her here so she could violate Liam’s privacy. At the same time, it was important to document and poke fun at the folly of excess. Millions of kids died of starvation or dysentery or lack of vaccines, but Liam Norcott’s bathtub had stereo speakers and gold fixtures. Waste like that deserved to be mocked.
Besides, the lure of the forbidden was kind of exciting.
Robin backed out of the bathroom and turned to the end of a hall. A narrow staircase led up to the trailer’s second level. She hesitated, listening hard to make sure Karen wasn’t returning. The only sounds from outside were muffled conversation as two production assistants passed by a window.
“And here we go into Liam’s private inner sanctum,” she whispered, holding out her phone as she climbed. “The prince’s chamber, revealed…”
The stairs opened up to more closets, an even bigger bathroom, and a master bedroom suite decorated in shades of tan and gold. For Sean’s sake, Robin panned across the brown comforter and tasseled pillows on the king-sized bed. A big lump in the middle of the pillows stirred, rolled over, and rose up to glare at Robin.
“Who the hell are you?” asked the naked man in Liam’s bed.
Chapter Eleven
Robin dropped her phone.
“I’m not here,” she blurted out. “You’re dreaming.”
Without waiting for him to answer, she scooped up the phone and raced back down the stairs. She barreled out of the luxury trailer so fast that she knocked over a production assistant. The PA had been carrying a large box of silver balls that looked like Christmas ornaments. When both Robin and the other girl fell, the balls spilled out of the box and rolled across the ground like small silver chimes.
“I’m so sorry!” Robin scrambled upright, mortified. “Are you okay?”
The assistant grinned up at her. “Sure! Just like tag football. A few bumps and bruises aren’t going to hurt anyone.”
She was an attractive girl, Robin’s age or so, with a messy braid of reddish brown hair and freckles sprinkled across her face. When Robin helped her up she realized they both were wearing Greenpeace T-shirts, but the other girl filled hers out better. They both bent to scoop up the fallen props and nearly clunked their heads together.
“I’m not usually such a klutz,” Robin said.
“I’m always a klutz,” the assistant said. “It’s amazing I haven’t broken anything this summer. I’m Molly.”
She offered her hand. Robin shook it. Molly’s fingers were clean but calloused, with short fingernails and chipped purple polish.
“I’m Robin,” Robin said, and then looked guiltily back at the trailer. Liam’s naked guest hadn’t come out to accuse her of trespassing, but she was sure any minute he’d emerge and start shouting. She should have given Molly a fake name. But it seemed wrong to lie to someone after you’d nearly flattened her into the pavement.
“New crew?” Molly asked.
“Just visiting.”
“You scraped yourself,” the girl said, indicating Robin’s elbow and the blood that was starting to ooze.
Robin clamped her hand over it. The skin stung under her fingers. “Road rash never killed anyone.”
“Oh, but this is the tropics! Who knows what strange mold and microbes lurk in the dirt?” Molly scooped the last ball into the box. “Come on, we’ll go see the medic. She’s been waiting all day for someone to have heat stroke or fall into the ocean.”
Robin’s elbow wasn’t nearly bad enough for medical attention, but Molly insisted and steered her toward an awning equipped with folding chairs, a cooler, and a folding table. Molly said, “Look what I brought you, Ellie! A victim.”
Ellie was a middle-aged woman with short hair, a nose ring, and a book of crossword puzzles. Her shirt said MEDICS DO IT FROM BEHIND alongside a picture of a hand in a surgical glove. She reached for her kit. “Excellent! I was so bored I almost resorted to Sudoku.”
The radio on Molly’s hip squawked. A man’s voice demanded, “Where are the time balls? I need the time balls!”
Ellie snickered. “That always makes me laugh.”
“Honestly?” Robin asked. “That’s what they’re called?”
“Honestly and truly,” Molly said, hefting her box again. “See you later, Robin. Maybe we can bump into each other more gently.”
The smile that Molly gave was genuinely flirtatious. Robin wanted to follow it across the set, but the sting of hydrogen peroxide on her elbow distracted her.
“Did you hit your head or bump anything important?” Ellie asked. “This is a big treat for me. I might even get to fill out a form.”
Robin said, “I didn’t know working on a movie was so boring.”
“The most excitement I’ve ever had was when Channing Tatum got accidentally punched in the nose. That’s a million dollar nose, you know.”
“There you are,” Karen Francine said, from behind the chair Robin was sitting in. Her brow creased in concern. “What happened?”
“Nothing serious,” Robin said. She was still waiting nervously for Liam’s naked man to show up. �
��Tiny accident.”
Karen nodded. She seemed distracted. “I have some calls to make. Can I meet you later? Dinner, maybe?”
“Sure,” Robin said. “But what about that guy?”
“Which guy?” Karen asked, pulling out her phone.
“The crew guy.” Robin glanced at Ellie, who was inspecting Robin’s elbow for any debris. “The picture I showed you.”
“I’ll check with Michael.” Karen tapped in a message to someone. “Feel free to hang out and watch the shoot. I’ll call you and we’ll grab dinner.”
She walked away without waiting for Robin to say anything else. Robin wondered if her sudden preoccupation had to do with news of Juliet. In a short time, Karen had gone from desperate for news to seemingly indifferent, or at least disinterested. What could be more important than your own kidnapped sister?
Ellie said, “I’d put a bandage on this, but open air is better. You want an aspirin?”
“No, thanks.”
“Pity,” Ellie sighed.
Robin fished her phone from her pocket and showed Ellie the picture of the thief. “Do you recognize him?”
“Oh, sure,” Ellie said. “Jake Something.”
“What does he do?”
“I’ve been in this business for ten years, and I don’t know what half these people do,” Ellie said cheerfully. “You could ask Molly. She knows everyone.”
Robin would be very happy to talk to Molly again, for any reason at all. She thanked Ellie for the peroxide and started looking for her. Between the extras, the assistants, the grips, and the other crew, it wasn’t easy. Plus Robin still had to keep a lookout for the naked man, and she wasn’t in a hurry to cross paths with Liam Norcott, either.
Her phone kept buzzing with messages from Sean: send more pix!
Later, she replied. Busy.
“All right, ready on the set!” someone yelled out, and Robin saw that Liam Norcott was in front of the cameras for the next scene. A stuntwoman in a Juliet Francine wig was with him. Harnesses tethered them both to the Southernmost Point buoy. Robin knew the safety lines could be digitally erased later.
