STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) (5 page)

Emily glanced around. As directed, everyone was watching for the signal. Most people had drinks in their hands, although a few held cigars. They really did look like a roomful of partygoers being introduced to their host’s horse for the first time. A few lucky extras had been chosen to stand by the pool. The woman with the bloody makeup was quite close to Dan.

“Quit drooling and look at the horse,” Judith said. “Besides, Robert Dexter is happily married.”

Emily jerked her head away. She’d actually been admiring Dan, not Dexter. And now she regretted listening to Judith. If she’d followed the cameras, she might have been chosen as part of the pool background. Maybe even had a chance to see how Dan directed his horse stunts.

A man in front of the camera slapped his clapperboard. Someone shouted, “Action!” A yellow paper moved above the window and the background performers surged forward.

It wasn’t hard to pretend interest. Robert Dexter gestured at the clump of guests crowded around the horse. The colt pawed and jerked at the lead line, his eyes rimmed with white. Shania pulled at the line. It looked like she was in trouble.

Suddenly there were two blond handlers, but neither could hold the horse. He tossed his head and abruptly shot forward. Water cascaded around him as he leaped into the shimmering blue pool, accompanied by his waving mane, a snaking rope and scores of screaming people.

It was pure bedlam. The horse thrashed in the pool, his head disappearing beneath the water for long seconds, his hooves flailing amidst a frantic spray of white. Ladies screamed and Robert Dexter looked horrified.

Emily clasped a hand over her mouth, stifling her groan. This was horrible. The poor horse was drowning in front of them. And the brave groom was trying to lift his head. Had actually untangled the lead line from his front legs. And now the horse’s head was out of the water and he was swimming. Shania swam beside him, guiding the colt to the extra wide steps in the shallow end.

The horse scrambled out, paused and shook like a dog.

“Cut!”

“Well done!” The assistant director rushed over to Dan Barrett and pumped his hand. The director looked at a screen, grinned and announced they were moving on. Everyone around the pool smiled and slapped backs.

Emily lowered her hand, shaking in disbelief. “Wow. I thought that was all real.”

Even Judith remained silent for a moment. “They got it on the first take,” she finally said, rather grudgingly. “They’ll be happy. Unfortunately that means we won’t be called back.”

Emily lingered by the window, still in awe. The horse stood quietly now, completely unperturbed. In her opinion, he was the best actor here. Dan spoke with a blond lady, obviously the actress’s double. It had been the stunt double, not Shania who had jumped into the pool but the action had been so seamless, Emily hadn’t noticed the switch.

Three people dampened Shania’s clothes, spraying her hair and face and adjusting her makeup. She looked drenched but utterly beautiful. Emily glanced back toward the horse who was being led away by a wrangler.

“That is the neatest thing I ever saw,” she said. “I really want to keep working here.”

“We all do,” Judith said. “It’s easy money, getting paid for standing around. This will end up being about ten hours’ work. With the overtime, I might be able to pay my rent.”

“If I didn’t need the money so badly, I’d do this for free,” Emily said, still staring as Shania posed in front of the cameras. “This is fascinating. Especially the horse jumping into the pool. What happens now?”

Judith didn’t answer.

Emily glanced over her shoulder. Judith had already moved away, threading through the crowd but moving against the flow of people. Maybe she knew of another entrance, or a way to get closer to the action.

Emily charged in her wake, trying to stay close to her knowledgeable friend. It took a little bumping and several apologies before she reached Judith’s side.

“Why did you leave so fast?” Emily asked. “Can we get closer to the pool?”

Judith shook her head. Her gaze cut to the left. Thomas Hamilton and his wife lingered by a side door, less than three feet away. He exuded satisfaction while his well-groomed wife appeared slightly aghast at all the strange people in their ballroom.

“So the interior shoot is finished?” Mrs. Hamilton asked. “Those cameras won’t be back?”

Thomas Hamilton nodded. “Yes, but that was brilliant. The horse was a mirror image of Reckless.” He patted her arm. “Remember how much fun that boy was?”

“It’s not something I’ll ever forget,” Mrs. Harrison said. “I’ll have refreshments readied for the director and his crew. Perhaps he’ll leave a schedule of tomorrow’s scenes.” She exited through the side door, moving so smoothly she seemed to be gliding.

Emily watched the door shut, admiring the lady’s grace. It wasn’t just her clothes and carriage that portrayed impeccable breeding but also her manner of speaking. Such poise would take a lifetime to copy, and even then Emily feared her roots would always show. She gave a wistful sigh then realized Thomas Hamilton was staring.

“My wife wasn’t so happy about this movie,” he said, “but she intends to watch every one of Reckless’s scenes. What role are you playing?”

“Just background,” Emily admitted. “But I’m taking acting lessons.”

“I’m Thomas Hamilton. I owned Reckless.”

“Yes, I know. He was an amazing horse. Did he really jump into the pool like that?”

“Almost exactly like that.” Hamilton’s eyes settled on the plunging neckline of Emily’s dress. “If you’re going to be around this week,” he added, “I can show you his grave.”

“We’d love that,” Judith said, abruptly stepping in front of Emily. “I’m a big Reckless fan too. Is it true you named him after Sgt. Reckless, the Korean war hero horse?”

Judith almost stepped on Emily’s toes in her eagerness, and her voice sounded unusually husky. Flirtatious even. Emily edged back while Hamilton explained the origins of the horse’s name. Thomas Hamilton wasn’t a movie star but he was wealthy, and Judith was close to his age. Maybe Judith was more starstruck about meeting Reckless’s owner than the younger actors.

Judith turned, her hands fluttering around her face. “Emily, can you take a picture?”

“Sure.” Emily kneeled down and slipped the phone from the side of her shoe, feeling rather vindicated. It was a good thing she’d brought her phone.

Judith squeezed in beside Hamilton who adjusted his white collar and expertly posed. Clearly he was a man who loved having his picture taken—expected it even. Emily framed the pair in her phone screen.
Click.

“Got it,” she said, checking the picture. She shot a wistful look toward the pool deck, wishing she had a similar close-up of Robert Dexter to send Jenna.

“I’ll look for you ladies around the set,” Hamilton said. “Maybe we can chat more between scenes.” His gaze shot back to Emily’s chest.

She forced a polite nod, resisting the urge to tug up the neckline of her dress. It seemed strange that with all the exciting people here they were hanging around with this man; Judith had said he was a hound. But Judith was batting her eyelashes and acting surprisingly vivacious. Maybe she thought Hamilton would help her secure more work, although the trade-off would suck. His attention was clearly focused below the neck.

Emily crossed her arms. She’d had a few boyfriends like Hamilton, much younger of course, but they’d been nothing but an aggravation, messing up her life and her confidence. She gestured at the emptying room. “They’re calling for background to leave now, Judith. We should join them.”

“You go on without me,” Judith said, barely turning her head. “You have that special skills audition. I want to hear more about Reckless. Besides, it doesn’t matter if I miss the shuttle, as long as I catch the Louisville bus tonight.”

Emily’s eyes widened. Judith had preached about following movie protocol yet now she intended to linger. On the other hand, why should she be concerned? The woman was a virtual stranger; they’d only met ten hours ago. Maybe she enjoyed flirting with married men—ones who were film financiers.

“Okay,” Emily said slowly. “Guess I’ll catch you later. Do you know when the bus leaves?”

“Seven thirty,” Judith said. “They have to feed us supper first. You should just go now.”

She tilted her head back toward Hamilton. “However did you cope with missing the Derby?” Judith gushed. “It must have been frustrating owning the best three-year-old in the nation. Knowing he couldn’t run.”

Emily stepped back, rather hurt by the abrupt dismissal. She’d been dumped, just when she was learning to appreciate her friend’s company. On the other hand, she now faced a pressing problem, one where Judith’s bossy presence would be a definite hindrance.

‘Show up in appropriate clothing,’ Dan had said. She certainly couldn’t audition for the groom’s role in heels and a golden cocktail dress. Since there was nothing in her day bag, there was only one option. And persuading the wardrobe department to lend her suitable jeans was probably a job best tackled alone.

“We have no record of any jeans requirement.” The wardrobe lady pursed her lips, scrutinizing her iPad. “Besides, background shooting is finished for the day.”

“It’s a new scene where I lead a horse.” Emily leaned further over the table, fighting a rise of panic. Wardrobe was the only place where she could scrounge up a pair of jeans, but she hadn’t realized the clothes were so strictly monitored. “They probably didn’t have time to add it,” she went on. “It shouldn’t be a big deal. I just need some jeans…and boots and a shirt, socks and a belt.”

The woman studied Emily, her eyes narrowing. “My supervisor is on a break. You better wait until she returns.”

“Oh, but there’s no time.” Emily waved her hand, rather relieved the supervisor was absent. “
He
wants me ready in fifteen minutes.”

“Who?”

“Dan Barrett. Look, here are his instructions.” She tugged out Dan’s business card, embellished now with a time and scene number penciled on the back. She wasn’t certain how movie scenes were actually numbered, but the clapperboard by the pool had read one hundred and forty, so she’d jotted down one hundred and sixty-two.

The woman’s mouth tightened. “Scene one sixty-two. I hate it when they reschedule and don’t tell us.” Shaking her head, she handed the card back and turned to the clothes racks. “What are the specifics? Groom or exercise rider?”

“Groom,” Emily said, taking Dan’s handy business card and slipping it back into her pocket. “But a well-dressed one. No ugly jeans but a designer type. And those tooled leather boots on the second shelf might fit. I like the silver belt on the hook too.”

The woman’s brow furrowed and she shot Emily an odd look. However, she gathered the items and handed them over with a tight smile.

Emily scooped them up and hurried into a change room, eager to escape the tent before the supervisor returned.

The shirt fit nicely and the boots were lovely, with leather soft enough to be comfortable but certainly not too worn. However, the pants weren’t flattering at all. She certainly couldn’t appear around Dan Barrett in ugly jeans.

She spent several precious minutes trying on more jeans, stoically resisting the compulsion to check over her shoulder for the supervisor. Finally the patient wardrobe lady—after the first five minutes she introduced herself as Maggie—dug up some lovely Hudson jeans that outlined Emily’s legs perfectly.

Emily gave a satisfied thumbs up to Maggie and rushed from the tent, bolstered by the knowledge she was now suitably dressed. If a hunk like Dan Barrett had to see her looking like a groom, at least it would be as a well-dressed one.

*

“We’re a day ahead of schedule.” Anthony Jenkins rubbed his hands and gestured at the whiteboard. Dan had never seen the director look so pleased.

“If the weather cooperates, we’ll switch back to the track tomorrow,” Anthony said. “Where Dan can show us more of his magic.”

The nine other people in the trailer turned and smiled at Dan. He shifted in the chair, always a bit impatient during the daily production meetings. Much of it related to interior scenes that didn’t involve him—or the horses.

And he was concerned about Bruno. The gelding had been over zealous with his rearing and needed more work in the round pen. Tomorrow’s scene with Ice should be a cinch though. Ice was a pro; that horse never put a hoof wrong.

“We’ll be shooting out of sequence this week,” Anthony said. “Shania has a cold and needs some time.”

“She didn’t like the splash from the pool,” the AD said, rolling his eyes. “And unfortunately she’s allergic to horses.” He shot a snide look at the casting director who appeared unfazed by the criticism.

Anthony shrugged. “Shania’s a box office draw. It’s important to keep her happy.” He flipped through the storyboards then tapped with an authoritative finger. “I’m going to jump ahead and shoot Reckless’s behavior following the disappearance of the groom.”

Dan kept his face impassive but inwardly cursed. Bruno was going to need his A-game this week. He was playing the ‘bad’ Reckless. Unfortunately Bruno was more intuitive than the actors and had quickly learned how to intimidate. He behaved perfectly with Dan, and the stunt doubles loved him. But his rearing was much too enthusiastic.

Maybe Ice should sub for Bruno. He could also rear on cue. However, Ice’s maneuvers were submissive and much more mechanical. He was the type of horse who wanted to please. He definitely lacked Bruno’s air of menace.

Dan dragged a hand over his jaw. A sigh leaked out.

Anthony swung aggressively toward Dan. “I assume you’re okay with this?”

The director had mercurial mood swings but Dan liked working with him. Anthony was an award-winning director and a genius for capturing emotion, but what Dan appreciated most was that he didn’t generally interfere with the horses.

Dan gestured at the whiteboard. “Can a male groom lead Reckless to the track? With the rear by the barn door?”

“I prefer the rear be in the aisle,” Anthony said.