Chapter 21

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Shuttle Diplomacy

 

 

AS BILL headed upstairs as Moira had directed, she stepped out the back door and walked across the lawn toward the apartment. She didn’t think I would be asleep. She didn’t have to go all the way to the apartment, though, because she found me sitting by the pool, looking out at the ocean below. The moon was full that night, casting a beautiful light over the ocean. Somehow, though, she didn’t think that the beautiful night was what I was studying.

She sat down next to me, which startled me. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi. What’s up?”

“I’ve been talking with your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Yes, you do. And he has quite a tale to tell.”

“Lies. All lies, I’m sure. Look who he’s been hanging out with for all these weeks. America’s number one actor.” I tried to make the word “actor” sound like a foul four-letter word that should not be muttered in polite company. “I’m sure some of his skills at deception rubbed off while they were screwing.”

“From what Bill says, Australia was a nightmare beyond all nightmares. He said it rained day after day after day and they were completely cut off, unable to work, unable to get out, unable to communicate, unable to do anything but sit and wait for the rain to stop. Sounds like it got really ugly when they ran out of fuel for the generators. He said he tried to start walking out—all 150 miles. Derrick stopped him because it would have been suicide.

“Since his trailer-mates were trying to kill one another, Derrick had him come stay in his trailer—one of the few that wasn’t leaking from all the rain. He said that yes, they slept together in the same bed, but that no, they did not have sex. He doesn’t know who took the picture of the two of them in bed together. He swears that all of the other pictures are complete forgeries, that there was no picnicking because there was so much rain and mud, and when it wasn’t raining there were flies and mosquitoes everywhere which forced everyone to stay inside. There was no one for 150 miles around, so there were no cafés with or without candlelight.

“It sounds like someone is doing a very effective job of dismantling Mr. Derrick St. James’s reputation. What I don’t know is who or why. So it’s up to me to figure it out and do even a better job of countering their campaign. I can do that. What you’re gonna have to do is be mad, but be mad at the proper person—the person who is behind this whole smear campaign. It sounds like Bill is an innocent bystander who was an effective prop and nothing more. He said he didn’t know anything about any of this until you showed him the newspapers.”

“I don’t buy it. Who would hate somebody enough to do something like that? Sounds all too made up for me.”

“Why did he show back up here tonight, then?”

“Probably Derrick kicked his ass out of bed and sent him packing, so he ran back to the only thing he knew. But I’m nobody’s second best.”

“I agree. Hold onto that anger, but wait until we know where to aim it. Can you do that for me?” she asked.

“I’m not promising anybody anything at the moment, since I don’t know what I’m capable of delivering to anybody, including myself.”

“Fair enough. But give me a little time to do some research and a little digging. And you should get some sleep.”

“Not likely.”

“Give it a try. You’ve got class in the morning.”

“Not like I care much at the moment.”

“You care. And I care.”

She kissed the top of my head and walked back to the house. Bill was upstairs, in the shower. Rather than wait for him to finish, she walked into the bathroom and yelled, “Bill! I need you to tell me about everyone who was on set. I need every detail you can give me. Names, descriptions, jobs, characteristics. Did you get any pictures? If so, I want to see them ASAP.”

He squealed in surprise at someone walking in on him naked in the shower. “Can I finish my shower first?”

“Only if you do it real quick. Now haul that pretty ass of yours out of there and get downstairs. We’ve got work to do.”

Five minutes later Bill joined her in the kitchen and started to provide answers to the questions she had asked. His pictures gave her the best help she could have asked for. She looked at one photo in particular and said, “Well, I’ll be damned. I thought he was dead.”

“Who?”

“Him,” she said, pointing to one man. “What the hell was he doing there? That answers a whole lot of questions if he was there.” She reached across the table and grabbed her telephone and a telephone book. She started dialing, and less than a minute later was talking with someone she had known and worked with some years back. From what Bill could tell, she was recruiting someone who owed her a favor to go out to the movie set and pay a visit to the film crew. She filled him in on who he was going to see and what was happening. Apparently the person she was talking with knew all the players and knew what they were getting into.

After a thirty-minute phone conversation, she hung up and looked at Bill. “Well, I’ve made my first move. Now we wait. He’ll call us back tomorrow, once he gets out there and delivers the message.” She looked back at the computer screen and then explained to Bill. “You don’t know this—hell, very few people know this unless they’ve been around this town for as long as I have. You see that man?” she asked, pointing at the man who had caught her attention earlier. “Do you have any idea who he is?”

“He was the sound guy.”

“No, darlin’. That might be the ruse he used. You remember Elmer’s wife? That’s her daddy. Elmer never knew the man, which is good, because the man hated Elmer with a cold, hard passion. He hated the way Elmer was using that girl as a cover. Of course, he never stopped to figure that she was using him just as much as he was using her. That’s where I hold a couple of cards I can play. I know where some bodies are buried. My best guess is that he took the picture of you and Elmer in bed together after watching the two of you interact while you all were stuck there. The rest is just some creative computer work. I can get those pictures analyzed and dissected by experts.”

She reached for her telephone again and called someone else. It didn’t matter that it was after midnight. She reached whoever she wanted, told them what she needed, and told them she needed it ASAP. Before she hung up she half joked with them, “You got my answers yet, darlin’? Well, shut up and get to work. I need answers yesterday.”

She was on a roll. She finished one call, looked up another telephone number, and made another call. She continued like that. Bill soon realized that he was no longer essential, so he went upstairs and went to bed. His body didn’t have a clue what time zone it was on. All he knew is that he was falling over tired. He fell asleep hoping that this had all been a bad dream and tomorrow he’d wake up and it would all be over.