Joke and Dagger

by Christy Barritt

  I extended my hand. “And I’ll take my flowers.”

  Eva glanced at her hand, and her lips twitched. “Of course.”

  Back in my trailer, I stripped out of my costume so fast that I briefly considered switching careers and becoming a quick-change artist. That idea lasted about as long as it took me to put on a new outfit.

  In less than fifteen minutes, I was back out to meet Jackson. I felt more like myself without all my new layers on—with my warts gone, my wig off, and my false teeth in a container being sanitized. Instead, I’d donned my favorite skinny jeans and a blue sweatshirt, and wore my hair pulled back into a ponytail.

  Eva scampered off when she saw me, and I took Jackson’s arm, happy to have her gone.

  I’d come to realize there were toxic people in this world—people with no moral compass. You had to be cautious of those kinds, for your own protection. I’d learned that lesson the hard way.

  Most of the crew had already left. I gripped my flashlight and looped my arm through Jackson’s as we made our way to the small parking lot in the distance. The moon shone brightly overhead, but otherwise things were eerily quiet.

  A security guard, Larry, would stay on the set this evening to make sure no one touched our things. I thought I caught sight of him sleeping in his car in the distance, which gave me total assurance that everything was safe under his watch.

  Or not.

  “I know you’re probably tired,” I told Jackson. “I’m sorry to keep you up so late.”

  “No apologies necessary.” Jackson took my hand. “You remember the last time we were here in Lantern Beach?”

  “Of course.” How could I forget? I’d almost died. But the good news was, I had discovered my father. All in all, I had mixed feelings about this place, but no one could deny it was beautiful.

  “It seems like a million years ago, doesn’t it?”

  “It really does.” How long had it been? I tried to recall. Not even six months, if I remembered correctly.

  We paused in the parking lot by Jackson’s truck, and all I wanted to do was reach up and give him a proper kiss—I could do that now that my false teeth were out.

  These were the things I never thought I would think to myself.

  Before I could do anything, a footstep sounded beside us.

  I looked over and saw a pirate standing there, with a dagger raised toward Jackson and me. All I could think was, shiver me timbers.

  Chapter Five

  “You’ve got to help me. Someone wants me to walk the plank, mateys.” The man stared at us, a crazy look in his eyes.

  He’d stepped out of the woods wearing black trousers, a black waistcoat, and a pirate hat. Even in the dark, I could feel the man’s nervous energy.

  Jackson nudged me behind him, not looking frightened as much as annoyed.

  Me? I was as nosy as a pig in front of a new batch of slop.

  “Walk the plank? Like, literally?” I asked, unsure what was going on here.

  At least the dagger appeared fake.

  I squinted, trying to study the edges in the dark.

  Most likely it was fake. If it were real, Jackson would be all bristly right now.

  I squeezed Jackson’s bicep. Nope, it definitely wasn’t as hard as it could be.

  “You know what they say?” The man showed his teeth, reminding me a little too much of a middle-aged Jack Sparrow with a dad bod. “Dead men tell no tales.”

  What in the world was this man talking about? Why was he still in character? I didn’t know whether we should run for our lives or hear him out.

  “This is all your fault,” Jackson leaned toward me and muttered softly.

  “My fault? Why?” I wasn’t Batman. I hadn’t sent a Joey-Signal, telling all the freaks in the area that I was here and, if they were distressed, they could find me.

  “You’re the one who insisted on talking to them like pirates earlier. Now he thinks you’re one of them.”

  “I was trying to show a common bond so they would listen to me. It’s a classic negotiation tactic—”

  “Arrr!” The man lunged toward us, that crazy look still in his eyes.

  Or was that eyeliner that made his eyes look like that?

  “Could you just talk in plain speak?” I took a deep breath, wondering if I would regret my questions. “Please. Because as much as I love pig slop, I’m really tired right now.”

  “What?” Jackson muttered.

  The man lowered his dagger and stared at me, recognition spreading through his gaze. “I thought it was you.”

  “Me?” I pointed to myself.

  “Yes, you. Joey Darling. Actress extraordinaire. World-famous detective. Eye candy—”

  “That’s enough,” Jackson murmured.

  I could feel Jackson’s eyes on me, staring at me as if saying, I told you so. I’d never seen this pirate before.

  Unless . . . he was one of the pirates who stormed the set earlier. But, if so, that didn’t count. I had nothing to do with that little invasion.

  “I need me a detective,” he said. “Before someone feeds me to the fishes.”

  “I’m not really a detective.” If I had a penny for every time I had to say that one . . .

  “I heard you were in town, and I knew it was fate that brought our paths together.”

  Jackson stepped forward, his patience obviously dead and buried at this point. “It’s been a very long day. We really should go—”

  “Someone really is trying to kill me. You’re the only ones who can help.”

  I glanced at Jackson and saw him release a long breath before crossing his arms. He finally asked, “Why do you think someone is trying to kill you?”

  “Because of this.” The man reached into his pocket.

  Jackson tensed beside me, as if preparing to go on the defensive. Waiting to see a gun. A knife.

  Instead, the man pulled out . . . a piece of paper. In crude red letters were the words, “Heed my warning or you will die.”

  “I guess that explains where the notion that he might die came from,” I murmured, leaning against Jackson’s truck. “Although, I must say, the threat really could be more specific. Maybe this bad guy needs to work with a criminal coach who can help him refine his message a little more.”

  Jackson gave me a look that showed he clearly questioned my sanity.

  Me too.

  When he turned back to the pirate, his eyes took on a new light, as if he were fully engaging in detective mode. “Any idea who sent this or why?”

  “I have no idea,” the man said. “I’m just a poor pirate . . .”

  “If you want our help, tell us who you are,” Jackson growled. “Who you really are. If you give me a pirate name, I’m climbing into my truck and driving away.”

  The man’s face transformed from dopey to halfway normal. “Gene Belching, but my friends call me Bucky.”

  “Belching?” I questioned. Was that a real last name?

  “It’s legit.” He rolled his eyes. “Believe me, I’ve heard about it for my entire life.”

  “Where are you from, Mr. Belching?” Jackson asked.

  “New Jersey.”

  “Do you take this threat seriously?” Jackson continued. “Is there any reason you can think of that someone would want you dead?”

  “None. I’m a blue-collar worker. Single. Poor. You tell me why someone would want me dead.”

  “So this threat is just out of the blue?” I clarified. “There’s been absolutely nothing leading up to this point?”

  “That’s correct,” he said with a strongly affirmative nod.

  I was no expert on these things, but I had to wonder if someone was just pranking him.

  “Listen, maybe we can talk tomorrow.” Jackson put his hand on my lower back. “It’s late right now. Why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll give you a call?”

  “Fine.” The man grunted and spouted out his number, waiting as Jackson typed it into his phone. “I’ll look forward t
o hearing from you. Hopefully, I’ll live long enough to do so.”

  Jackson and I stood in the lot after the man disappeared back into the woods. I had no idea where Bucky Belching was going or why he didn’t simply walk up the lane as he departed. I might have called out and asked him, but I didn’t.

  Instead, silence fell.

  I didn’t think either Jackson or I knew exactly what to say after that conversation. The rest of the cast and crew appeared to be gone, and the security guard was probably asleep in his car still.

  But this wasn’t how I wanted to end my day and say goodnight to Jackson. I knew he’d gotten a room at an Airbnb, but I needed more time with him before we went our separate ways.

  “Let me drive you home,” Jackson said.

  Nothing sounded better but . . . “I have to be back here tomorrow morning by five. If I leave my car here—”

  “I’ll drive you.” He started toward the other side of his truck to open the door for me.

  “Are you sure? It’s early—”

  “I’m positive. I came here to be with you. That’s what I intend on doing—even if that means being up well before the sun.”

  My heart warmed. His words were music to my ears.

  I’d anticipated talking to Jackson about us and the future as we headed down the road. But as soon as we climbed into his truck, all I could think about was that weird conversation with the wannabe pirate. It seemed like a shame not to address it.

  Address it and move on. That’s what we should do.

  “Do you think that man was crazy?” I asked, pulling my seatbelt on.

  “Probably.”

  “Do you think someone is trying to kill him?”

  “The threatening note was a little obscure. This really is a matter for local police, though. Besides, you’re going to be filming a movie. There’s not much you can do. And I’m here to spend time with you, which means there’s not much I can do.”

  “True.”

  “Anyone who hangs out at this hour and appears from nowhere strikes me as odd.”

  “Maybe he’s scared.”

  “Maybe he’s up to something.”

  As much as I tried not to think about the encounter as we drove to my house, of course I did. Not only was Bucky Belching’s appearance weird, but so was the earlier swarm of pirates on the set.

  And what about that treasure map? Why would someone create one of those? Was it to interrupt filming? Or was someone messing with the pirates?

  Fifteen minutes later, Jackson and I pulled up to my place. He took my hand and said nothing as we paced to the front door.

  “I know it’s late, but I haven’t seen you in weeks,” I said. “Can you come in for a little while?”

  “I’d love to.”

  We stepped inside my rental. I had told Alistair that a room at a local bed-and-breakfast would be plenty. But he’d insisted on getting me this fancy house. Considering his budget, I was surprised he’d picked this out for me.

  Not long ago, I bought myself a beach house in Nags Head, a tourist town that was a hop, skip, and jump away—if one visualized the islands as leap pads. I absolutely adored the place with its wraparound porches and salty breezes.

  But this place where I was staying while here in Lantern Beach was more of a luxury. It had three floors, a swimming pool, and every amenity a person could want. And it was all mine for the next two weeks.

  “Can I fix you some coffee?” I asked Jackson.

  “I’d love some.” He followed me into the kitchen and looked around. “Nice place.”

  “I know. I thought it was pretty nice myself. Too bad I won’t be able to spend much time here.” I poured some water and then began scooping grounds into the filter. The aromatic smell of bold roast with a hint of hazelnut drifted up to me.

  Jackson lingered behind me, watching my every move. “Is that right? You have a grueling filming schedule, huh?”

  “Yeah, something like that. As I told you before, we have only two weeks to complete this. We didn’t get off to a great start.” Memories of today’s filming battered me, making me feel like I’d been in a fist fight.

  “That’s what I gathered.”

  After I started the coffee, I turned around and sucked in a breath when I realized Jackson was right there, only inches away from me—if that far.

  I filled the gap between us. As I looked up into his gaze, I realized just how much I had missed Jackson. No, I took that back. I’d known without a doubt that I missed Jackson terribly. But, looking at him, I was just reminded of all the time that had passed since I’d last seen him.

  I reached up and skimmed my hand along his jaw, feeling the scruff of his five o’clock shadow. It felt so good to be near him, to see his hazel-green eyes, and to smell his spicy aftershave.

  On my tiptoes, I stretched up and planted a kiss on his lips. Man, I had missed doing that. I pretty much missed everything about our life together. I kept telling myself I would get used to the change, that our lives would eventually match up, but how much time would it take?

  Finally, the coffeemaker stopped gurgling. And I’d been kissing Jackson that whole time without apology.

  I poured Jackson a cup. I didn’t need one. I was already wired.

  “Don’t you need to get some sleep?” Jackson studied my face. “I know you have a long day tomorrow and you want to be fresh.”

  “Are you kidding? The worse I look, the better it is for this role I’m playing. Bags under my eyes? Check. Coffee-stained teeth? Check. The haggard gaze of someone who’s clearly overextended herself? Check.”

  Jackson chuckled. “This doesn’t sound anything like the Joey Darling I know.”

  “Well, I’ve turned over a new leaf. It’s a moldy, crumbling new leaf, but it’s a new leaf.”

  Jackson chuckled again and pulled me into another hug. I’d missed that reaction. It was pure Jackson.

  He had the ability to be tough, to be strong, and to set boundaries. He also left no doubt that he loved me immensely. Maybe—just maybe—deep down inside, I actually amused him.

  And I loved that because I secretly craved making him laugh. I loved seeing that flash of humor in his eyes. My dad had always said I was a natural-born entertainer.

  I took Jackson’s hand and led him to the couch. I didn’t care if I got any sleep tonight. I just wanted to talk to him, to hold his hand, and to catch up on the life we’d missed doing together the past few weeks.

  Before I could dive into my questions about his job as a detective in the Outer Banks, he spoke up.

  “So tell me about this movie,” Jackson said. “It seems . . . I don’t know . . . I’m no expert on Hollywood or the film business, but the script seems weird.”

  I told him about today’s shenanigans, and he listened intently, grunting and nodding and grunting and nodding in all the right places.

  “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said. “These things always seem to happen to you, don’t they?”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say they do. But having somebody send a new script out? That’s just crazy. I’ve had a lot of weird things happen in my life but never that.”

  “Who do you think did it?”

  “I have no idea. To be honest, I really don’t know that many people on set. I mean, I’ve worked with a couple of them before. I’ve heard rumors about some of them, and I’ve read articles about others. But I don’t know anyone well enough yet to be able to say who might do something like this.”

  “But you think it’s someone on the inside?”

  “Oh, yeah, I definitely think this has to be someone on the inside. The question is why? Why would someone do this? It makes no sense.”

  “Maybe somebody really does want to sabotage this movie,” Jackson suggested.

  “That is a possibility. But for someone to want to sabotage this movie, they’re going to great lengths to do so. Why would they do that? Is this about Alistair? Does someone have that big of a grudge against him? Do they f
eel he wronged them? Or maybe they feel slighted and that he didn’t give them a big enough role? I have no idea, but I think it’s going to be interesting to see what happens next.”

  “I think it’ll be interesting too,” Jackson said. “Then again, things are always interesting when Joey Darling is involved.”

  I flashed a smile and batted my eyelashes. “Isn’t that just the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me?”

  “You’re one of a kind.” Jackson quickly planted another kiss on my lips before leaning back.

  He played with my hand, running his fingers in and out of mine while sitting incredibly close. I rested my head on his chest, wishing I could freeze this moment.

  “So, some time we’re going to need to talk about our wedding,” he murmured.

  I sat up straighter at the change of conversation. “Yes, we absolutely do. I am so ready to set a date and have this figured out and become Mrs. Jackson Sullivan.”

  “I know our schedules have been so crazy lately that we haven’t really had the time we need.”

  I pulled out of his embrace and grabbed my cell phone. A moment later, my calendar showed on the screen. “All right. We’re still thinking the spring, right?”

  “That is what we discussed. I am thinking maybe the end of April, beginning of May. How does that look for your calendar?”

  I scrolled down until I reached those dates. It was still about six months from now. Some people would say that wasn’t enough time to plan a wedding, but I wasn’t looking for anything too big or fancy.

  Jackson and I had both been married before. His marriage had ended when his wife died of breast cancer, and mine had ended with an abusive, narcissistic husband.

  It wasn’t the way either of us had seen our lives turning out. But reality was reality, and the past was the past. Now we were both ready to move forward.

  I’d already done the big wedding in the limelight with the paparazzi and media following me when I married another movie star. Now I just wanted something simple, laid-back, and private. But mostly I just wanted anything I could get with Jackson.

  “You said the end of April, beginning of May?” I stared at those dates on my calendar. In theory, they should work, but . . . “I’m supposed to be wrapping up filming of that other movie right about that same time. I’m afraid that filming might run over, and it’s taking place in New Zealand, and I don’t want that to happen and for things to have to be rearranged because of it.”