Casey glanced at her phone yet again. There were emails from her mother, Stacy, and a couple of friends from Christie’s, but nothing from Tate. It had been four days now and she’d not heard a word from him.
Yesterday at the rehearsals, Gizzy said she’d received several texts and emails from Jack. She wanted to ask Jack about Tate, but Casey said no. “He’s probably just busy,” Casey had mumbled, then returned to her lines.
Right now she was sitting on a quilt with Rachael Wells. Devlin was far downstream, a fishing rod in his hands. He didn’t seem to be very practiced at flinging the line into the water.
She looked at Rachael. She was a pretty woman with lots of dark hair, and wearing a sundress that could have been in a 1950s movie. Her bare arms and tan legs were quite thin. “For the camera,” she’d told Casey when they first met.
On the drive to the picnic site, Rachael had given Devlin several come-on glances, but he’d ignored them. When they got to the area, he’d slapped some cheese on bread and run off, leaving the women alone.
“You’re going back to L.A. tomorrow?” Casey bit into a slice of quiche.
“Yeah, but damn! I wish I’d known Tate wasn’t here.”
“Do you know him?”
Rachael gave a little snort. “Oh, yeah. Tate Landers and I have been friends for a long time. I know his last picture didn’t do well and that he thought the publicity of this local play would help, so I assumed he’d be here.”
Casey was trying not to let her curiosity show. “You wanted to see him about something?”
“Actually, I have the photos he bought.” She glanced toward Devlin, who was well out of hearing distance. “I certainly can’t give them to poor Devie. After all Tate did to him, I don’t mention his name.” She lowered her voice. “In fact, Devie doesn’t even know I still do work for Tate.”
“What exactly happened between them?”
“Oh. That. Ever hear of a TV show called Death Point?”
“No.”
“Of course you haven’t. No one has. It was Devie’s show and Tate killed it. I guess he got jealous of how well it was doing. One star per family seems to be Tate’s motto, and he was it.” Rachael looked at Casey in surprise. “Hey! You live nearby, so you could give these pictures to him.”
“I’m not sure…”
“They’re not porno, if that’s what you think. I mean, not that Tate is above that.” She looked around to make sure they were alone. “Just between us girls, if you ever get a chance to go to bed with Tate Landers, do so. I can tell you that an hour or three with him is worth it. You’ll remember it always.”
Casey swallowed. “So you and he were lovers?”
“Were? Honey, we are lovers. You don’t think I flew to the middle of nowhere just to deliver photos, do you? Devie’s made it clear that he wants his ex-wife back, so I have to make do.” She laughed. “I came here to get my Landers fix.”
Casey could feel her entire body stiffening. “I think he’s seeing someone.”
Rachael waved her hand in dismissal. “Tate is always seeing at least two women at a time. Any woman who thinks differently is in for a lot of pain.” She pulled a thick envelope out of her handbag. “This was a big job for me. It wasn’t easy to set that whole thing up while I stayed in L.A. That kid had to be anchored to the roof, and the cables hidden and released by movie magic. It was a nightmare!”
“Roof? What are you talking about? What child?”
“You didn’t hear about it? That rescue Tate and Jack faked? I was told it went off perfectly. I was worried about the kid, but Tate said he’d be okay. Anything for the career, right?”
“Are you saying that the little boy sitting on the edge of the roof and the rescue were part of a publicity stunt?”
“Of course. You don’t think two mega-stars like Tate Landers and Jack Worth are going to play hero without a reason, do you?” She was looking at Casey’s shocked face. “I’m sorry. I forget that I’m not in L.A. Everyone there is publicity savvy. I didn’t mean to burst your Middle America bubble.”
“Would you please tell me this entire story?”
“Sure. It was Jack who called me, but then, Tate always has a sidekick. For a while it was Devlin, but…” She shrugged. “Poor Devie. Tate threw him out of the marriage and got him cut from his TV show, both at the same time. I don’t know how he survived it.
“Anyway, Jack called me and said he and Tate were going to some estate sale and they needed something to happen that would portray them as heroes. It wasn’t easy, but with the help of a guy I know in Richmond, we set it up. I rented a truck, found a cute kid for the roof and a professional photographer to record it all. No video, just still photos, so it looked more real.” She held out the envelope. “You can see them if you want.”
Casey knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t stop herself as she pulled the photos out. The top one was of the little boy sitting on the edge of the roof. Gizzy, a rope around her waist, was walking toward him. She looked beautiful, but the child seemed scared.
“Notice that the men stayed inside where it was safe. They weren’t going that far for publicity!”
Next were two pictures of the boy’s mother. Casey held it up to Rachael, her eyebrows raised in question.
“She’s a local actress, and the kid belongs to her neighbor. That mother is going to be furious when she sees these photos on the cover of the tabloids!”
Casey went to the next picture. It was of her hanging down the roof.
“That’s the other girl. Jack was laughing when he told me that Tate got stuck sleeping with the fat one. Poor guy. But I guess in a small town, even he has to make do with what’s available.” As she stared at Casey, her eyes widened. “That’s— Oh, no! I didn’t realize you were the second girl they put at risk. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Tate was using you to— I mean, that he’s— I have to shut up. Here! Let me have those pictures. I’ll ship them to him.”
“No,” Casey said. “I’d like to keep them.”
“Sure.” There was sympathy in Rachael’s eyes. “After the way Tate used you, you can have anything you want. I’m really sorry about this. And I’m going to kill Devie for not telling me about you and Tate. In L.A. everyone knows what he’s like, but out here in the sticks…I really am very sorry.”
She waited, but Casey didn’t speak. “Damn! Now I’m wondering about the next thing Tate wants me to do. He said I should put on heavy clothes and go through some thorn bushes. He said there’s a…” She checked her notes. “A well house? I’m a city girl. I have no idea what that is. But I’m supposed to peek through a window and take pictures of him inside it. Maybe they’re some kind of art photos. Whatever they are, he thinks that if they’re published, they’ll renew interest in him as a romantic hero. He’s worried that younger guys are going to knock him off his pedestal.”
Rachael turned to look at Devlin by the stream. “I think we better go. I have a lot to do.” She stood up, gave a loud whistle, then motioned for him to return.
Casey was sitting on the quilt, as still as if she were frozen—or dead. All of Rachael’s words jumbled together so that she could barely think clearly. The well house. The rescue. That dear little boy. All done for Tate Landers’s career? All a publicity stunt?
Rachael looked down at her. “I think I’ve upset you. Why don’t you go back to the car? We’ll clean this up.”
Casey managed to stand up, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t repack what she’d cooked. She stumbled to the car, opened the back door, and got in.
The only thing in her mind was that she must warn Gizzy. The men were in it together. They weren’t real. They had come to a small town and found two females willing to go to bed with them. And poor Tate had been stuck with the “fat one.” Too bad he hadn’t shown up at the theater earlier that first day so he could have had the town beauty.
She watched as Rachael and Devlin put away the picnic things. She seemed to be bawling him out. Rachael was probably chastising Devlin for neglecting to let her know that Casey was the current bedmate of Tate Landers.
Tate had hired Rachael to photograph them inside the well house! Her stomach turned over.
As Rachael and Devlin started toward the car, Casey tried to get herself under control. Okay, so she’d fallen for a movie star’s tricks. She could write it off as a learning experience. Someday she might even be able to laugh about how naïve she’d been. For all that she’d thought she was keeping her emotional distance from Tate, she hadn’t succeeded.
What was important now was to warn Gizzy that she too was being used. And, also, Casey knew she could not tell anyone what was going on. Later, when the “rescue” was on the front pages of some news magazines, she’d be able to say, “Of course I knew it was all a stunt. That child was securely tied onto that roof. No, no, it was all done for publicity and I knew it.”
She picked up her phone and sent Gizzy a text. MEET ME AT MY HOUSE IN AN HOUR. IMPORTANT NEWS TO TELL YOU.
As Devlin drove them back to Summer Hill, they were all silent. Rachael seemed to be too angry to speak, and Casey didn’t want to. When Devlin stopped at a hotel to let Rachael out, she turned to Casey.
“I am really sorry about all this. I didn’t understand what was going on. I think I should tell you that—”
“You’ve said enough for one day,” Devlin said sternly.
“You bastard!” Rachael got out of the car and slammed the door, but she looked back. “Casey, I—”
She didn’t hear any more, because Devlin sped away.
At Tattwell, he had to go through a guard at the gate, then he drove Casey to her house. He got out and opened the door for her. “I can’t apologize enough for what Rachael told you. But then, it’s been very hard for me to stand by and see what my ex-brother-in-law has been doing to you.”
“I can’t take any more. I’ve reached my limit.”
“I know,” he said gently. “But don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make you a drink or two and we can sit and talk and—”
Casey stepped away from him. “No. My sister will be here soon and no offense, but I may never want to see a man again.” She went into her house and shut the door firmly behind her.
Devlin stood there for a moment staring at it. Damn Rachael! She overdid it. She was supposed to make Casey turn to Devlin in tears. But then, what had he expected? She always was a bad actress. Now that he thought about it, she was probably the main reason his show failed.
But at least Casey wouldn’t welcome Landers back with open arms. That had been achieved. And he’d done it all by himself, without any help from anyone. If Rachael thought she was going to be paid for this screw-up, she was mistaken.
He took out his phone and called the PI.
“I was just going to call you,” the man said. “You’re not going to believe what I found out about this Christopher Montgomery and the former Miss Olivia Paget. This time, you’ve hit the jackpot.”
“It better be good. I’ve had a rotten day. Why can’t people ever do what they’re supposed to?”
“You’re going to be happy after you hear what I found out.”
Twenty minutes later, Devlin Haines was smiling broadly. He felt so good he thought he’d go to Rachael’s hotel, let her yell at him some, then get her clothes off. If she was really, really good to him, he might be persuaded to pay her half of what he’d said he would. She should be grateful, since she didn’t deserve any of it.
By the time he got to his car, he was laughing. Before long he’d have that Jaguar Landers had refused to buy for him. No! With this news, he wanted a Maybach.