67

There was a cell phone in her trailer the next morning. Tessa had sensed there would be. It rang as she came in.

The voice, as usual, was mocking. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

“You son of a bitch!”

“Is that any way to talk? I give you a nice movie to watch, and this is the thanks I get?”

“What are you trying to do?”

“I’m not trying to do anything. Are you trying to do something? You shouldn’t be. I wouldn’t like that very much.”

Tessa said nothing.

“I hope you don’t get the idea that you’re off the hook. You’ve got a lot to worry about, like the next DVD, for instance. You got any requests? How about The Lady Vanishes? That’s a good one. Pretty appropriate, don’t you think, the way your career is going to vanish if you don’t play ball. Wanna watch that one and see if it runs straight through without any ‘commercial interruption’?”

“Stay out of my house!”

“That was just a stunt. Shall I send it to your husband by old-fashioned snail mail? I will if it comes to that. But I don’t think it will. I trust we understand each other.”

Tessa listened in helpless fury.

Her tormentor chuckled. “Here’s looking at you, kid,” he said, and hung up.