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VISIONS OF NAKITA’S BODY had floated in and out of my dreams throughout the night. At three o’clock I’d awakened in a cold sweat, the bedcovers tangled around my bare legs. I had pulled on baggy sweatpants and finally drifted off to sleep just as the dawn was painting orange streaks across the sky. It was close to seven when I awoke and got out of bed. I leaned over the bathroom sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. “And tonight, I get to sleep in a tent on the ground. Whoopee!”
Before I had a chance to shower, there was a tap on the door. Certain it would be Sissally, I swung the door wide. David stood in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee. He gave me the once-over and smirked at my baggy sweatpants. “Wardrobe advised—those aren’t your best look.”
“Funny ha-ha.” I took the offered coffee. “Thanks.”
“You’re allowed to say no about this campout,” he said, his brow furrowed in worry.
“I know, but safety in numbers, right?” Plus, for whatever reason, I felt I owed it to Tiffany to stick it out. “Tiffany said they’ve ruled Nakita’s death an accident.”
David’s eyebrows raised. “You don’t think so?”
“It’s just . . .”
“Just what?”
“Oh, just my writer’s overstimulated imagination.” After all—how much did I really know about David Brown?
***
IN LATE AFTERNOON, a caravan of trucks and vans pulled away from the airstrip, loaded with equipment and crew for the campout scene filming. When we passed the corrals, I saw Skeeter trying to load Bonnie. She wasn’t having anything to do with it. I was about to ask the driver to stop when David walked around the trailer and relieved Skeeter of the stubborn mule. Skeeter walked to the driver’s door and waited until David had latched the trailer before climbing behind the wheel.
Oh, great. Skeeter was coming along on the campout.
After we parked in the large meadow, I approached the trailer to unload Bonnie. Skeeter was barking orders to the two Mexican workers. They may have professed “no English,” but obviously they understood it—set up the corrals, pitch the tents, get the firewood. I steeled myself as Skeeter did a poor imitation of a sexy walk toward me.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better.” I backed Bonnie out of the trailer, making sure there was plenty of space between her and Skeeter.
“I don’t know why you had to bring that dumb-ass mule up here. Plenty of good horses to pick from.”
I didn’t really know why I’d insisted on bringing Bonnie, either, other than she made me feel safe. I swallowed my anger and began walking away.
He called after me, “Still waiting for our first kiss.”
The sound of an air horn blasted, catching everyone’s attention. We all moved to where, in the gathering twilight, Derek Singleton stood. Tiffany, dressed in a purple down-filled coat and matching Ugg boots, was standing beside the young director. He nodded at Tiffany, and she spoke up, “Derek will tell you the filming schedule for the night shoot since cell phone coverage here is non-existent.”
Derek cleared his throat. “First up. Campfire—big fire, singing songs, end with ghost story. Sleeping bags laid out around dying fire. Kidnapping. At dawn, discover Lindy is gone. We’ll shoot some scenes of Wes and Alex riding off into the woods.”
David left with Skeeter to get the horses settled for the night while I went with Sissally to change into wardrobe. As we approached one of the two large wall tents that had been set up, the noise from generators running the portable lights drowned out the mountain’s nighttime noise. I glanced over at the black, timbered area and shivered. Sissally took my hand and squeezed it. “It’ll be okay, Courtney. There’s only one scene, and we are all right here with you.”
“I know it’s silly to think something will happen to me surrounded by all these people.” Sissally handed me a cap with a blonde braid and a glammed-up pink jacket with a huge L on the back. The light shining from portable stands flickered off the jewels, sending strange shadows dancing across the tent. I might need more than a pep talk from Sissally to make it through my scene in the darkness.
I watched from the sidelines with Sissally during the filming of the campfire scene. Lindy seemed distracted and made mistake after mistake reciting her lines. Alex and Wes snapped at each other; the tension between the two was palpable. A scenario played like a movie in my head where Nakita, mistaken for Lindy, fell victim to a jealous lover.
Then it was time for my scene. I replaced Lindy in her sleeping bag near the dying campfire, and Derek called “Action!” I lay rigid, the smell of wood smoke drifting over me as I awaited my fate at the hands of the kidnapper. Even knowing that the script called for a knife-wielding man to pull me from the sleeping bag and threaten to cut my throat if I made a noise, I wasn’t prepared for how realistic it felt. As he forced me away from camp and into the cave-black woods, I stumbled and fell several times, which wasn’t in the script. Derek loved it, though. Me, not so much—as my hands and knees burned from scrapes and scratches.
It was close to one in the morning when Derek called out “That’s a wrap” and reminded everyone that filming would resume at daybreak. I was heading to the women’s tent when shouting erupted close to the campfire.
“You both are juvenile twits!” Lindy screamed. “I don’t want to be with either one of you!” Her tirade was followed by the flare of the fire as two bodies rolled into the embers. Sissally and I started running toward the ruckus.
“Should just let them burn,” David muttered over his shoulder as he passed me.
By the time Sissally and I got to the fire, David was trying to separate Alex and Wes. Crew members were standing around in the shadows, whispering, but no one seemed willing to get in the middle of the fight. David bear-hugged Alex and told Wes to back off. It may have been a play of the dying firelight, but I swear I saw a satisfied smirk on Lindy’s face before she stomped off. Tiffany ran past me, her down coat swishing, as she called after the departing star. “Lindy! Wait for me!”
Egads! Drama, drama.
David let Alex go but remained between the two men. “Time for everyone to shut down. Now!” Alex and Wes glared at each other and walked in separate directions. I heard the shuffle of footsteps dispersing around the periphery of the fire ring.
“I’m going to bed,” Sissally said.
I walked over to where David was kicking dirt onto the coals. “I’m too old to babysit,” he said, shaking his head. “Those two have been at each other since they came back from the island party over the Fourth.”
“It might be because Lindy is playing them both.” I stifled a yawn.
“Figures,” David said, turning toward me. “You must be dead on your feet from yesterday.” I heard the whistle of air intake. “Shit, sorry. Poor choice of words.”
“I think we all are tired and ready for this whole filming thing to be done.”
“Let’s call it a night,” David said as we turned toward the tents. He gave me a shoulder bump when we stopped in front of the closed flap of the women’s tent. “Plan on sleeping in in the morning. Skeeter can help get the horses ready for Wes and Alex’s scenes.”
I bumped him back, “Whatever you say, Boss.”
***
“COURTNEY, WAKE UP.” I blinked and saw that sunlight had brightened the interior of the tent. Sissally’s knees cracked as she squatted down beside me. “Lindy’s gone.”
I shook the brain cobwebs away. “What?”
“Lindy’s gone. We can’t find her anywhere.”
Loud male voices sent us scrambling out of the tent. It looked like Round Two was about to begin as Wes and Alex were facing off.
“Where is she?” Alex demanded.
“Why don’t you tell me?” Wes snarled.
“You should have been cast as the deranged mountain man because you’re crazy if you think Lindy’s going to be with you!” Alex shouted.
Alex shoved Wes in the chest, sending him to land hard on his butt. Alex was about to pounce on the downed man when David kicked Alex’s feet out from under him. “Stay down, the both of you.” David did a two-finger whistle that got everyone’s attention. “Listen up. Has anyone seen Lindy? Did anyone hear a vehicle last night?”
Murmurs of no and headshakes drew a look of concern on David’s face. “Skeeter?”
“Here,” the cowboy said, stepping forward.
“Check to see if any of the horses are missing. The rest of you split up in teams of two—search the vehicles and meet back here when you’re done.”
Tiffany gripped my arm hard enough to make me gasp as she pulled me away from the others. “What are we going to do?”
“Let’s not panic yet. She might just be in one of the vehicles sleeping off last night’s drama.”
When it was determined Lindy was not pouting in any vehicles and no horses were missing, Derek looked at David. “What should we do?”
I swallowed hard. “David. Tiffany and I need to tell you something. In private.”
“What’s going on, you two?” David asked when we had moved away from the gathered group.
Tiffany began to sob. My words tumbled over each other as I told David there had been death threats against the film crew. He gave me a hard look and spun away from us, not saying a word.
I tagged along behind him like a kicked puppy. “I’m sorry,” I said lamely.
“Save it,” he barked over his shoulder. “Skeeter, saddle the horses—Buck, Bonnie, your horse. We’ll bring Lindy’s Brownie and the blue roan. The rest of you, listen up. You need to leave immediately. Don’t bother gathering your stuff, and bypass the ranch. Check into the Holiday Inn and stay there. No one—and I mean no one—goes anywhere by themselves.”
Some of the crowd started asking questions, and others just froze. David had no patience for any of it. “Get moving. NOW!” he yelled. “Sissally, a word?” I still hung at David’s side, listening. “Sissally, I need you to take this to the sheriff’s office.” He scribbled a note on the pad he pulled from his chambray shirt pocket. “Courtney, meet us at the horses. Bring some water and energy bars.”
Adrenaline was making me shake and feel queasy by the time I got to the temporary corrals. The horses and men were waiting for me, and I distributed the water and energy bars. I dropped my cell phone and bars into one saddlebag and water in the other.
“Skeeter, you work your way back to the ranch,” David said. “If you find her, shoot once, count to ten, and shoot again. We should at least hear the echo.” I didn’t know where the guns had materialized from, but both Skeeter and David had rifle scabbards tied to their saddles. Skeeter swung into the saddle, and David handed him the lead rope to Brownie, the horse Lindy usually rode. “And Skeeter, thanks.” Skeeter tipped his hat and touched his spurs to the belly of his big sorrel.
I hollered after the retreating cowboy, “Be careful.”
We both checked our cinches before mounting up. “Courtney, thanks for volunteering.”
“But I didn’t ... oh, yeah.”
“When we find Lindy, she may need a woman’s touch.”
I wondered what he meant by that statement.
