Diana was never in the office when Billie checked. Once, she came back to the set to hear Diana was around the entire time she had been looking for her. They saw each other more when they lived in separate states.
She went upstairs and found Diana meditating in front of Closet Sidney again.
“How was set today?” Diana asked, her eyes focused on Sidney.
Billie learned long ago to have conversations with Diana when it appeared she wasn’t paying attention.
“It was fine. Despite the argument yesterday, Richard and Claudia worked together okay. A little frosty, maybe. I didn’t tell you I found her crying, did I? She makes tears like a real girl, Di.”
“I’m more interested that Fay followed Dick out.”
“Yeah. For someone who runs away from him every time he wants to talk about the script, she certainly seems to seek him out.”
Fay stayed close to Richard most of the day, going over script changes between set-ups. Even their interactions were quiet and subdued. It had been a nice, quiet day for a change.
“They came into the office at lunch to print off script changes. Sexual tension galore. But mostly from Fay’s side. I’m not sure Dick’s noticed,” Diana said.
“That’s a minor miracle. He has a homing device only lonely women can hear.”
Diana sat up with a concerned look. “Bils, you’ll tell me if you hear it, right?”
Diana was so serious Billie couldn’t help bursting into laughter. “Yes. If I get an overwhelming urge to sleep with Richard, I’ll come to you first.”
“Good.” Di went to the closet and studied Sidney. “If you feel it happening, just come and stare at Sidney. It’s what I do to distract myself from the Level Three Clinger I’ve gotten tangled up with. Sidney would never cling.”
“Only to closet doors,” Billie said dryly.
Billie flopped down on her bed. The sun was low in the sky, and the light was perfect for photos. She was trying to decide whether or not to go out with her camera when Diana swore.
“I think I left my iPad on set. I had to enter the entire schedule manually since we’re in the Dark Ages here. Dammit.”
“I’ll get it. I was going to go shoot some pictures anyway. Magic hour and all that.”
“Thanks. It’ll give me time to meditate. I think I left it on a chair near video village.”
Billie grabbed her camera and a walk-around lens, then laced up her Converse. She left Diana in the lotus position, staring into the closet and mouthing words. She didn’t want to know what they were—Diana’s meditations were X-rated when it came to Closet Sidney.
The hallways and lobby were quiet. Film people either caught up on their sleep or they hung out in the bar. Serena needed it. Billie never saw anyone so high-strung. She caught her crying in the bathroom after dinner, choking out something about eye lines not matching and ruining everything. Claudia and Lark dragged her into the bar, plying her with alcohol. She’d pickle her liver if she lasted the whole shoot.
The air was cool now that the sun had dipped behind the trees. Billie followed the trail to the forest set and found Diana’s iPad on the sound cart. She hated even going near it. Judd had the hots for Diana, but he hadn’t warmed up to her. He barely spoke to her, on-set or off.
Miles didn’t talk to her much, but his job was complicated. He worked with Eamon to make sure each shot was in focus, and with the camera moving, Miles constantly was on the move himself. He spent most of the day with Eamon and Elyse, and they worked together so well she felt like she’d be intruding.
She decided to take the long way back and walked toward the lake. A trail wound around the entire thing. Joe said the lake turned blood-red from plankton in the winter when it stormed just right. Blood Lake was a gory name for it, and she wondered if that’s why Richard chose the location.
Things swooped down from the trees, and Billie gasped as they darted overhead. First, she thought they were bats, then realized they were barn swallows, moving so quickly they were hard to see. They flew toward the lake on the hunt for bugs. She spent a half hour trying to get a good photo of them, but the birds were fast, and she didn’t get many usable pictures.
Billie walked along the lakeside trail and took photos of the lodge from the distance, the sun setting behind it. She followed the trail as it wove through the forest, stopping to take pictures of moss hanging from trees, mushrooms growing on stumps and the occasional chipmunk and squirrel. It was peaceful without Richard’s bullhorn disturbing the silence. The trail came out near the kayak storage, and Billie followed the shore. She had turned up the grassy path to the lodge when she saw someone lying on the beach.
“Probably Richard and Lark rolling around in the sand.”
The figure didn’t move. Billie walked closer and a bubble of fear rose in her stomach. Something seemed off, and she couldn’t put her finger on what.
She got closer, saw the bright blonde hair and realized it was Lark.
“Lark?”
The girl didn’t stir.
Maybe she passed out drinking or fell asleep. Billie’s mouth was dry. She slowed as she got closer. Lark was lying at an odd angle, partially in the water. Her hair was damp.
“Lark?” she asked, her voice quieter.
It was dark now, the sun disappearing behind a mountain in the distance. Billie glanced at her watch—it was almost ten o’clock.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Lark?”
A twig snapped, and Billie whirled around. Nothing was there. She rushed the last few steps to Lark and was about to kneel when she noticed Lark’s bulging eyes, staring straight ahead.
“Oh my God.”
Billie wanted nothing more than to run as fast as she could, but she forced herself to shake Lark’s arm. Lark’s head lolled, but she didn’t move.
“Lark?”
Billie shook her again, then took a ragged breath as she felt for a pulse.
Lark’s body was cool to the touch.
There was nothing there.
The moment Diana heard the scream, she knew it was Billie. She had heard her scream like that before, in Miami. She leapt from the bed and, without shutting the closet door and shielding Sidney from heathen eyes, raced into the hall. Across the hall, a door opened and Miles poked his head out.
“What is that?”
“It’s Billie! I’ve got to find her!”
“Hold on a minute, I’m coming with you.” He followed as Diana rushed down the hall.
“The elevator,” he said as they passed it.
“Too slow.”
“You’re going to break your neck on the stairs in those shoes.”
“Watch me.”
She took the stairs two at a time, Miles hot on her heels. Billie screamed again while they were on the stairs. Diana burst into the lobby and slid to a halt. She almost fell, but Miles caught her around the waist.
“Outside,” he said.
She charged through the front doors. Billie was silent, but everyone was running to the lake, so Diana did, too.
Billie, her face pale and tear-stained, was on the lake’s edge. Claudia and Dick had her by either arm. Just visible behind her, someone stretched out on the pebbled shore. Whoever it was, wasn’t moving.
Oh shit, not again.
Billie sat in a director’s chair, watching the RCMP hover around Lark. Di talked with a small group of people, including Claudia and Richard, and from the way she gestured, she wasn’t happy.
Billie choked back a sob.
“Miss Jessop? We really do need you to answer these questions.”
“Huh?” Billie couldn’t remember the last thing the RCMP officer had asked.
“You said you thought you heard a noise?”
“Yeah, like a twig breaking. It was probably an animal. Then I went closer. I thought she was passed out, maybe drunk.”
“And you touched her?”
“On the arm to shake her. And I took her pulse.” Tears slipped out, despite her best efforts. “For all the good it did.”
“Okay. We’ll have this officer here take your prints, just for reference, all right?”
Billie watched with disinterest as the Ident officer inked her hands and pressed them onto paper. Each finger was done, then her thumb, then all four fingers together. He handed her a Kleenex afterward, but the ink wouldn’t come off.
Diana charged over. “What are you doing? Are you fingerprinting her? Billie didn’t do anything!”
“Just doing my job, ma’am.”
“Just doing your job! She has been traumatized! And you’re just doing your job!”
“Ma’am, I have to—”
“Traumatize a poor young woman who just found her co-worker dead! I hope you’re happy with yourself!”
The young officer looked around helplessly, then fished in his pocket for a business card. “If she remembers anything else that might help—”
Diana snatched the card out of his hand and tucked in a pocket, then knelt beside Billie.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down? I have to take care of a few things, then I’ll come up and join you.”
“I just want to ask Richard something first. I’ll meet you upstairs.”
Diana looked at her warily, then sighed, nodded and walked into the lodge. Billie wasn’t sure they still had jobs. The police hadn’t said anything, but maybe the movie would be shut down.
She walked down the beach, pausing as the coroner wheeled a body bag on a stretcher past her. The police lights made the scene look strange, red and blue.
“How are you doing?”
Billie let out a startled gasp, then turned. Fay stood nearby.
“It doesn’t seem real,” Billie said.
“I know. Do you need anything?”
“I just wanted to talk to Richard. I’m not sure what’s going to happen.”
“From what I hear, the police aren’t shutting anything down. It looks like a tragic accident. Richard’s over there.” Fay pointed at a picnic table. Richard sat on it, smoking a cigarette—a real one.
“I’m sorry about Lark.” Billie sat beside him.
Richard looked up. “The police aren’t sure she drowned.”
Billie’s pulse quickened. “What do you mean? She was all wet. Of course she drowned. Of course she did.”
“She was on shore, and they aren’t sure. How do you drown on shore?” He puffed on the cigarette. “I overheard the coroner say something about bruising. Don’t tell anyone I said that. Don’t tell anyone they said that.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Don’t want anyone to panic. It was probably an accident.”
Billie nodded, her gut twisting. “I just wanted to say I was sorry.”
“For what? You didn’t kill her, did you, Camera Girl?”
“I just know you two were involved.”
Richard’s expression was guarded. “I barely knew her.”
Billie frowned. “I’m sorry anyway.”
“Me, too. I’m waiting to see if Ira’s gonna shut this thing down. I hope not. The footage looks great, we can’t afford any down time.” Richard took another drag. “The cops are going to let us keep shooting, I hope that’s good enough for Ira.”
Billie was too stunned to say anything. She turned and walked back to the lodge. She stumbled up to her room and shut the door, then crawled under the covers.
The room was dark, and there was a hump under the blankets in the far bed. Diana stepped into the room, pushing the door shut behind her. “Billie? It’s me.”
“Hey.” Billie’s voice shook.
Diana sat down and patted the hump that was Billie. “I’m so sorry that you saw that, Billie. I should’ve just gone down and gotten that damn iPad myself.”
Billie shifted. “It’s not your fault . . . you didn’t know.”
“Scoot over, Billie.” She did, and Diana wiggled under the blanket, wrapped her arms around Billie and pulled her close. “If they shut us down, that’s fine by me, and if they don’t and you want to go home, that’s okay by me, too. Whatever you need to do, I’m right behind you.”
Billie sighed. “Fay said the police weren’t shutting anything down, that it was just a tragic accident. The only thing Richard seems to care about is we keep to the schedule. It’s not fair. Someone’s dead, Diana. I think it might not have been an accident.”
“What do you mean?”
“Richard overheard the coroner say something about bruising, and I think I saw a bruise near her neck. I thought it was just a shadow. Maybe it was, I don’t know. But if she drowned, why was she on shore? It doesn’t make sense.”
Diana smoothed her hair. “She wasn’t murdered. You’re just thinking about bad memories.”
She didn’t say so, but she was worried. The last thing they needed was some murderous fuckhead running around. She hadn’t brought pepper spray or anything, because it wouldn’t get through customs.
They were silent for a few minutes, except an occasional hiccup on Billie’s part.
“Di,” she said softly.
“What?”
“What if Richard killed her?”
“That would really suck, promotional-wise.”
“Diana!”
“What makes you think that?” Dick was an asshole, but he wasn’t a murderous asshole. He couldn’t even get himself a coffee, for Christ’s sake.
“He and Lark were messing around. And they were down at the lake skinny dipping the other day.”
“Ew, how do you know?” Diana tried not to sound huffy, since Billie just had a major shock, but she hated being out of the loop.
“I caught them.”
“Oh God, you didn’t see Richard naked, did you?”
“Diana!”
“I need to know how traumatized you are right now. That could really put it over the top.”
“But what if he did kill her?”
All this whispering made her paranoid. Besides, Diana didn’t do whispering. “Why would he do that? Now he has to find a new girl to fuck on set.”
“Maybe they got in another fight. Or maybe . . . maybe he’s just crazy.”
“I hope not, because, if he is, we’re all in a lot of trouble.”
A half hour later, Diana was trying to convince Billie to go downstairs for a drink, but Billie was resisting.
“Diana, I don’t want to talk to anyone. Everyone is going to be staring and talking about finding Lark’s body. We’re cursed or something.”
“At least no one was dismembered this time.”
“Don’t say that. You know as soon as you say that, it’ll happen.”
Diana sat on the bed, and Billie sat cross-legged on the floor while Diana brushed her hair. “Bils, people are going to talk. Whether you’re there or not.”
“I know.” Billie rubbed her eyes.
“At least this was an accidental death.”
“Diana, she could swim . . . .”
“This was an accidental death,” Diana repeated. “It’s tragic, but I bet she tried swimming under the influence.” She pulled the brush through Billie’s hair. “You’ll see—the autopsy will come back with a high blood alcohol content and water in her lungs.” She frowned. “I’ll have to talk to Dick about putting a statement together. As soon as the word gets around, reporters will be calling. Not that the bastards bother calling any other time.”
“Someone dying ought to be more than a PR problem.”
Diana sighed and resumed brushing. “I wonder who has to contact her family?”
“Probably Claudia.” Billie drew her legs up and hugged them. “If this causes an insurance problem, I don’t want to be anywhere near her when she finds out.”
“I don’t even want to think about it. I know you don’t want to go down, but it will quash the worst of the gossip, and, besides, a drink or two . . . it will help keep the dreams away.”
Billie shivered. “Yeah. That would be good. Not to dream tonight.”
“You know what else would help?”
“Diana, I’m not having sex with Miles.”
“It’s not like I planned this. I just thought that, if you woke up in the middle of the night, you might want to have someone in bed with you.”
“As opposed to having you across the room?”
“It was only a suggestion. I was just trying to be helpful.”
“You would help him right out of his pants and into my bed if I let you.”
“Now, that would be something I wouldn’t mind seeing.” She put the brush aside and stood up. “Come on. Let’s just go have one drink. It’ll help you sleep.”
Billie hesitated. “Alright.”
“Just don’t forget, if Judd shows up, we both have a headache.”
The bar was packed. Maybe being reminded of their own mortality made people want to drink. It crept toward midnight, but no one looked like they were ready to leave.
Judd spotted them and flagged them down.
Diana sighed. “Remember, we’ve got headaches.”
“I think I do have a headache.”
“One drink, and we are gone,” she promised.
Miles stood so she and Billie could slide in next to Judd. Diana made a face at Miles, and he shrugged. Diana slid in, and Judd hauled her into his embrace.
Billie hesitated. “I’d rather sit in the outside. I feel kinda queasy.”
“I understand.” Miles sat down, leaving the outside seat for Billie, who sat, rubbing her temples.
“Are you okay, Bils?”
“I’ve got a headache coming on.” Billie closed her eyes and massaged her temples.
“Do you want to go?”
“No, let’s have a drink, and if I don’t feel better, then we’ll go.”
Miles frowned. “You really don’t look good. Are you okay?”
Billie shook her head.
“Can I get you two something?” Miles asked.
“Whiskey sour.” Diana was worried about Billie. She had a bad habit of going with the flow and not standing up for herself. Generally, it wasn’t a problem, because Diana was happy to stand up for her, but when it came to standing up to Diana, Billie didn’t have anyone to go to the mat for her. Diana had to be careful not to be pushy with Billie, because Billie had a hard time telling her no.
“Scotch, please,” Billie said. “A double.”
They played musical chairs so Miles could get up and go to the bar.
Diana hugged Billie. “Scotch? You really aren’t well. Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“I just need to relax. I want to be able to sleep tonight.”
“That was some rotten luck, finding Lark,” Judd said. “It could have been any of us.”
“I don’t know about that.” Billie pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “Bad luck seems to follow us like a stray dog.”
Tiny waded through the crowd to their table, an adult among toddlers. It was a wonder the ground didn’t shake under his feet. “You, okay, Billie?” he rumbled. “Heard you were questioned by the police. They know it was an accident, right? Nobody thinks you had anything to do with it.”
“I think the police have to interview anyone who finds a body,” Billie said apologetically. “I appreciate it, though.”
He patted Billie’s shoulder. His hand was the size of a ham. “You’re a nice girl, and I’m sure you didn’t have anything to do with it. Just some bad luck for you, and some real bad luck for poor Lark. She wasn’t a bad sort, she just needed a place that felt safe, no matter what you might have heard. Poor, poor girl.” He fetched a heavy sigh and ran one of those huge hands across his face. “Just some bad luck.”
“If it weren’t for bad luck, some of us wouldn’t have any,” Diana remarked.
Tiny gave her a long, considering look, then turned to Billie. “Anybody gives you any trouble, you send them to me, and I’ll set them straight.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Billie straightened up and gave Tiny a smile, crumpled around the edges. “I feel really badly for Lark’s family. I know her mom is sick. I wish there was something more we could do.”
Tiny gave her shoulder a pat. “That’s kind of you. If you need anything . . . .”
Billie placed her hand over his. “I know. Thank you.”
Tiny nodded and continued on his way, passing Miles, who was returning with their drinks.
Billie got up, and Miles slid in and passed Diana her drink.
Miles scooted in so Billie could sit down, and Diana was crushed between Miles and Judd. Not that she minded. Miles smelled heavenly, and his thigh pressed against hers—at least until he noticed. He jerked away and scowled.
Cassie was on stage, drunkenly hiccupping through “Single Ladies.” The hair and makeup departments, led by Luka James, cheered loudly.
Judd couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Di jabbed him in the ribs, and he gave her a mock-innocent look. She was about to give him a piece of her mind when Claudia arrived.
“Billie, what did you tell the cops?” she demanded without preamble. “Did you tell them about Lark’s relationship with Richard?”
Billie took a big gulp of her drink. “I don’t remember.”
“What do you mean, you don’t remember?” Claudia planted her hands on the table and leaned in. “That could make Richard look very suspicious!”
Di shrugged off Judd’s arm and stood up. “You are making Dick look suspicious. Also, last time I checked, Lark’s death was an accident. Unless you know something I don’t?”
“Richard’s reputation has to be above reproach. It’s very important. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Claudia glanced at Judd, then Miles, which was ridiculous, since Diana only fantasized about having sex with Miles. Fantasies didn’t count.
“In that case, maybe he should quit fucking half the crew.” Diana sat down and took a sip of her drink. “Unless, of course, he wants a reputation for screwing around with his crew.”
Claudia ground her teeth. “He is not.”
Di took another sip, then raised an eyebrow. “You’re right. More like three-quarters.”
Claudia’s hands snapped into fists, then sprang open and snapped shut again. She turned on her heel and stormed off.
“She looked pissed,” Judd said.
Diana rolled her eyes. “When does she not look pissed? Have you seen her resting bitch face? Besides, she was traumatizing Bils.”
“I wasn’t traumatized,” Billie objected.
Diana polished off her drink. “It was headed that way. Hey, Bils, you want to go do some karaoke?” She smiled at Miles. “Billie does an excellent version of ‘Wanted Dead or Alive.’ It’s super cute.” She scooted toward him, forcing him to move over until he was snuggled against Billie. He frowned, and she smiled widely.
“I don’t do that one anymore,” Billie said glumly. “It feels like a jinx.”
“Bils, no! That’s your performance piece!”
“Why don’t you do yours?” Billie suggested.
“Which one is yours?” Judd asked.
“She does Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Holding Out for a Hero,’” Billie said.
Diana blushed. “Only when I’m drunk.”
Judd grinned. “I’d like to see that.” He dug out his wallet. “Hey, Miles, go grab her another drink.”
“I’m not sure, Judd, that sounds like a bad idea,” said Miles.
Diana shook her head. “Shut up, Miles.”
He laughed, the bastard.
Judd kissed her temple. “I bet you do an awesome job.”
She peeked at him from under her lashes. “Maybe I’ll give you a private performance later.”
Miles groaned and pretended to vomit, and Billie laughed. They were laughing together; it was an excellent sign. Diana wished Billie sat closer so she could give her a nudge. Billie was on the conservative side when it came to men. Words like “sluggish” and “slow as molasses” came to mind.
Jenny and Brandi from hair and makeup dragged chairs over to their table and sat down without a by-your-leave.
“Billie, we heard you found Lark’s body,” Jenny said, her eyes glittering with avarice. “Is that true?”
Billie shuddered and took another big gulp of her drink, shaking her head.
Brandi flipped open a compact and checked her already impeccable hair and makeup. “I heard she was choked doing some weird sex thing and tossed in the lake.” She made a moue of distaste. “That weird stuff would be right up her alley. I hear she—”
“Stop it,” Miles said, his voice flat and cold. “Isn’t it bad enough that all of you gossiped about her when she was alive? Now you’re talking about her when she’s dead? Can’t you leave her alone?”
There was a long pause while the blood drained out of Brandi’s face. “I heard that, too, Miles,” she hissed. “You’re pretty popular yourself. It’s no wonder you two ended up together.”
A dull red flush crept up Miles’ cheeks.
Diana yawned. “You’re being a terrible bore, Brandi. Why so fascinated with everyone else’s sexual escapades? None of your own?” she said with false sympathy.
As quickly as she turned white, Brandi turned beet red. She leapt up with such force the chair toppled over. Without another word, she left for the bar.
“We seem to be having that effect on people tonight,” Diana said to Billie.
Billie sighed. “You are having that effect on people tonight.”
Diana shrugged. She didn’t care if Brandi and Claudia were upset when they were trying to agitate Billie and Miles.
Jenny set the chair upright. “Is it true, though? Did you find her?” Her enthusiasm was muted.
“Yes,” Billie said. “I don’t . . . I don’t want to talk about it. Please.”
Jenny hesitated, then nodded. She stood and pushed the chair in. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. She followed Brandi to the bar.
Diana didn’t have a chance to take a breath before Elyse arrived. She took the chair Jenny vacated. It probably still was warm. This was getting fucking ridiculous.
“I’m beat,” she said. “What a long, miserable day. Probably not as bad as yours, though.” She looked at Billie. “Are you okay?”
Billie stared into her drink. “Better than Lark. And I will be okay. Eventually.”
“I’m really sorry. I wish it had been anyone else.” She glared at Diana. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, Billie.”
Billie shook her head. She had dark shadows under her eyes and she drooped all over. Poor Billie; she looked worse than she had when they came down.
“C’mon, Bils, let’s go upstairs. You look wrung out.”
Billie nodded. “Yes. I think I’ll be able to sleep now.”
They didn’t manage to escape without Serena cornering Billie and encouraging her to have a stiff drink or six—and from the smell, she took her own advice.
On the stairs, they ran into Pam, who took a few minutes to cluck over Billie and offer to make her a special batch of chicken noodle soup. Billie declined, and they made it back to their room without another delay.
Diana shut the door firmly, leaned against it and sighed. “You going to be okay?”
“I will be.” Billie shed her clothes. “I just need sleep . . . and for everyone to quit asking me about it.” She grabbed her flannel pajamas and pulled them on. “I just need rest.”
“Don’t worry, Bils.” Diana flicked the light off. “Tomorrow’s another day. Things will be better. I’m sure of it.”