10 A Script for Danger (8 page)

“Hands on!” Bess finished. “She's a really hands-on agent. Is it normal for agents to visit actors on set?”

Omar shrugged. “Sometimes. But Kendall hasn't proven herself in the business yet. Her boss discovered Brian while Kendall was still an assistant. When Kendall was promoted, she took on more of the Brian-related work. Sometimes I think she feels a little insecure.”

“Kendall?”
Now it was my turn to gasp. From what I had seen, Kendall seemed overly confident . . . to the point of being obnoxious.

Omar nodded. “Especially here. I think she feels like Alex doesn't want her around. See, she tried to help Lali and Alex raise more money for
The Hamilton Inn
, but she fought with Alex when he insisted on hiring Zoë rather than a more famous actress.”

“So, Kendall didn't want Zoë to be in the film,” I reasoned.

“Not really,” Omar answered, “but I think she's coming around. Kendall is whip-smart, which is why I want her to represent me.”

“Omar!” Kendall barked from out of nowhere, interrupting our conversation. “You do realize these girls are press, right?” She stared at me angrily. “Lali finally let me in on your little secret. You're a sneaky one, aren't you? Asking me questions, pretending to be interested in Brian's career.”

“I was just giving them general information about the film biz.” Omar gulped.

“And what you said about Brian earlier is completely off the record,” I quickly added. “I promise. We aren't looking for gossip.”

Kendall gave me a sidelong glance. “You'd better be telling the truth,” she said. I wasn't about to give up on Kendall as a suspect, but clearly I was going to have to be more delicate in my approach.

“I was just telling Omar how perfect Zoë is for this part,” I commented. “She's talented, don't you think?”

“Yes,” Kendall replied coldly. She gestured toward Sal, who had finally appeared with trays of steaming-hot cider and—with help from Nysa and Shea—was passing them around the set.

“Great. I bet that's made from some supermarket powder that's
filled
with sugar and preservatives,” Kendall complained. She cringed when Brian took one of the cups from Nysa's tray.

“Omar, you can't be serious. Brian's not drinking that sludge, is he?”

“No, Kendall. Of course not!” Omar cried. He ran forward with his trusty thermos. Kendall stayed close behind him.

“Omar's trying way too hard to impress Kendall,” Bess commented.

“Yeah. What if he's helping Kendall sabotage the film?” George whispered.

“He has a motive,” I agreed. “Both of them do.”

Meanwhile, Nysa wasn't even trying to hide her frustration with Sal. “Picture's almost up, Sal. We're about to roll and you're in the frame!” she exclaimed.

Sal just kept passing out cider at the same slow pace. “I'm moving as fast as I can!” he fired back, handing off the last cups to two shivering camera assistants.

“Okay, let's shoot this!” Alex called.

“I'm ready, boss!” Brian replied. Even though Omar was waiting with the green juice just a few feet away, Brian took several sips of hot cider instead. He passed his empty cup to Shea.

“And . . . action!”

“I—” Brian started making strange noises. Was he flubbing his lines? Everyone stared at the normally unflappable star. Then Brian started coughing and clutching at his throat.

“Oh no! He's choking!” Kendall lurched forward.

“I know the Heimlich!” Spencer yelled, racing
toward the set. Before he could grab the actor, though, Brian sprinted outside and threw himself against the railing in front of the house. Something flew out of his mouth and landed on the grass, right near where Cora stood.

As Brian caught his breath, Cora held up the offending object: a turquoise, heart-shaped pendant.

SILENCE HUNG OVER THE SET
while a medic examined Brian. Lali paced, her face completely white. Kendall stayed as close to Brian as possible, muttering words like “amateur” and “ridiculous” under her breath.

Zoë clasped the pendant in her fist, completely confounded.

“I'm so sorry, Brian,” she whispered. “I have no idea how it got—why anyone would—”

“Well, I had nothing to do with this, if that's what you're all thinking!” Sal shouted. The light illuminated
the rim of his hat, giving his pale, wrinkled face a ghostly glow.

“Sal, calm down, okay?” Lali commanded.

Meanwhile, the implications of this newest prank targeting Brian swirled in my mind: first the bloody sweater, now the pendant. Maybe this wasn't about shutting down
The Hamilton Inn
. Was someone trying to send Brian a message? But how would anyone have known that he would even drink the cider, and beyond that, which cup he would drink from?

“He's fine,” the medic announced.

Brian leaped to his feet. “See, Alex? Good as new. Let's keep going.”

Alex shot Lali a worried glance.

“I think Brian has dealt with enough today,” Kendall proclaimed. “I'll drive him back to the hotel.”

“Kendall, stop. I'm feeling great!” Brian insisted. “Lali, Alex, let's finish the day. I'm really okay.” He started doing jumping jacks right there to prove his point. “See?”

Brian's antics made Alex smile. “I can't say no to that,” he said.

“Alex, come see me after you finish this scene,” Lali ordered. “And you!” She summoned the medic. “Stay right here until they're done, just in case. Where are the security guards when I need them? This shouldn't have happened!”

Kendall pulled Lali aside. I inched closer so I could hear what they were saying.

“I think it's time to call the police,” Lali said. “This is harassment, plain and simple.”

But Kendall shook her head. “Do you have any idea what will happen if it gets out that you're having problems like this? I already don't like those three reporters hanging around! The last thing we need is a rumor that
The Hamilton Inn
is turning into
The Hamilton Circus
!”

“But Brian could have been hurt!” Lali exclaimed.

“That's better than this film getting hurt,” Kendall insisted. “If you call the police, I'm pulling Brian off the movie.”

“Brian doesn't listen to you, as far as I can tell,” Lali sneered. “And don't you dare tell me how to run my set!”

“Fine. Then consider what the investors will think if they hear about an investigation. Pranks are one thing; crimes are a whole new ball game, Lali,” Kendall fired back. “Plus, I think—and I'm sure the police will agree—that this pendant thing was an accident. Someone's cheap necklace broke and fell into the cider while it was being passed around. You'll just slow the whole shoot down for nothing. Trust me.”

Lali paused. “You have a point,” she mumbled.

Interesting,
I thought.
Kendall doesn't want to get the police involved.
She was looking more and more guilty by the minute.

Meanwhile, the incident had sent ripples through the crew. Their animated chatter permeated the inn's entrance as they reset the scene.

“All the pranks have been related to food from craft services,” I heard Nysa say. “Cider, ketchup, chocolate sauce, the coffee machine . . .”

Lali heard her too and shook her head. “Nysa, that's enough. I won't let this set turn into a witch
hunt. Everyone just needs to focus on work. I assure you, I'm taking this very seriously.”

I noticed that Sal's expression was particularly stormy, and I figured that he had overheard Nysa's accusation as well. He stormed off into the night. Although the cinema lights illuminated everything on and around the set, most of the lawn surrounding the inn was shrouded in darkness.

“All right, we're going to do another take,” Nysa hollered.

“I'm going to follow Sal. I have to find out where he's sneaking off to,” I whispered to Bess and George.

“Are you sure?” Bess asked worriedly. “Nancy, let us come with you!”

I appreciated her concern, but I knew that the more people, the more noise, and the more likely that Sal would sense something was off. “Thanks, but I have to do this on my own.”

I moved quickly until I was able to identify Sal's silhouette. He'd avoided the well-lit path that led from the set back to base camp. Instead he walked straight
into the woods. I fumbled forward, trying to follow the crunch of his footsteps in the leaves until, all of a sudden, the footsteps stopped.

I tiptoed forward cautiously, scanning the trees for movement, when . . .

“Gotcha!” Sal sprang out from behind a tree, and my heart leaped into my throat.

“Um, hey, Sal,” I said shakily, trying to gather my nerves.

Sal walked around me in a slow circle. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was . . . looking for the bathroom,” I lied.

Sal grunted in response. “I may not be Einstein, but I'm smart enough to know when I'm being followed,” he said. “Did Nysa put you up to this?”

“What are you talking about?”

Sal narrowed his eyes at me. “Trust me, young lady, you don't want me as an enemy. I'd better not catch you snooping around me again.” He skulked away.

I felt my way out of the woods, trying to wrap my brain around Sal's words. What did he mean by
You
don't want me as an enemy?
Was he some kind of hardened criminal?

Nevertheless, he now knew that I had been following him. If he was our culprit, he was going to be even more careful from now on.

When I arrived back on set, the camera was already rolling. Kendall sat firmly planted in her chair, watching the actors closely. She appeared to have recovered from her temper tantrum for the time being. As soon as Nysa screamed, “Cut,” I found George, who was watching from video village.

“Where's Bess?” I asked. I wanted to tell them both about my unsettling encounter with Sal.

“She's making new friends.” George pointed to a spot on the lawn, where Bess was huddled with Cora and her camera. “Bess somehow convinced Cora to show her the footage she's shot so far, so she could look for clues.”

“That's our Bess,” I said, perking up. Bess has a knack for buddying up to even the prickliest of characters. “How'd she do it?”

“She probably told Cora she could be vice president of the Brian Newsome Fan Club!” George snorted.

“Okay, this is the martini shot, guys!” Nysa called out.

“The what?” I asked.

“That means it's the last shot of the day,” Raina said. I hadn't noticed her before, but there she was, planted in front of the monitors.

“Why don't they just call it the last shot of the day, then?” George asked. “Why make it more complicated? You movie people are nuts.”

Raina shrugged. She looked exhausted.

A few moments later an excited Bess motioned to us. We did our best to remain nonchalant as we dashed over to the dark patch of grass where Bess and Cora sat.

“Guys, look what Cora found!” Bess exclaimed.

Cora held up her camera screen. “Last night after wrap, I was testing out settings for shooting in low light. This might explain how Zoë's necklace disappeared,” she said quietly.

She pressed play on a video clip that showed the outside of Zoë's trailer. On the screen, someone in a black cap tiptoed up the stairs and into the trailer, then emerged a few moments later. I squinted at the mysterious person; he or she was clearly taking great care not to be seen.

But Cora paused the video on a single frame in which she had managed to catch the person's face. It was only for a split second, but that was all we needed to identify her.

Kendall.