Page 25 of Beyond the Darkness (Basic Instincts #3)

“Not the Nice Guy That You Think He Is”

“No, no, no. Stop.” Andie’s voice roared from the darkness of the auditorium.

Hudson groaned inwardly. What the hell was wrong now?

He disregarded her, and ignoring the hesitation on Manuella’s and Steve’s faces, he continued with the scene.

His co-stars hesitated for a moment, looking uncertain, but got it back together and followed his lead.

Steve was halfway through a complicated chunk of dialogue when Andie stumbled up the side steps onto the stage.

She clutched a heavily annotated copy of the script and a disposable coffee cup. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were so puffy she seemed to stare out of swollen slits. He’d never seen her so wired.

“Didn’t you hear me?” she bawled. “Stop what you’re doing.” She thudded to the middle of the stage, the boards trembling with each step.

“Andie,” Hudson said, sounding calmer than he felt inside, “we don’t have time for this.

We need to get through it.” The first preview was tomorrow and as yet, they had still not completed a single, uninterrupted rehearsal of the show.

The current performance had almost made it to the end of Act One.

Halfway through, Hudson had stopped waiting for the stoppage, daring to believe they would make it to the end unchallenged.

She shushed him with a wave of the script. “We can’t open like this. People are paying good money to come and see this and what we’ve got is a messy piece of shit.”

“There won’t be anything for them to see if we’re not given the chance to finish what we’re doing.”

“He’s right,” Steve said in a rare show of allegiance with Hudson. “All these interruptions are bullshit.”

Andie turned her tight eyes on him. “You’re in the theatre now, Mr Dillard, not one of your crappy, one-take TV shows. This is craft, and the only way to improve it is through being challenged.”

Steve appeared on the verge of retaliation when Manuella calmed him with a firm hand on his forearm.

Hudson realised they’d reached a desperate stage.

Ordinarily he’d be the first one to call Andie out on her crazed behaviour and petty arguments, but they were so close to the first night, they could not afford it.

He’d have plenty to say to her a few days after the opening, but this was not the time.

He’d been shocked by her complete unravelling in these last few days.

Whether this was part of her normal directing process, he had no idea, but since they’d moved to working on the main stage, nothing made her happy.

She’d pulled apart the character choices and directions she had given in the prior weeks.

She hated the set, the lighting, and the sound.

Rav had done an admirable job at keeping a lid on her worst behaviour, but even he seemed defeated today.

“I think you should be sitting on the other side of the bar,” she said to Manuella, taking her hand and guiding her across the stage. “I want you here when Steve starts to speak.”

Jesus, she stopped the show for that? Andie could have given Manuella a note for the next performance.

Hudson knew better than to say it. It wouldn’t take much to tip Andie into a full-blown argument and they couldn’t waste the time.

Steve appeared on the verge of saying what Hudson had been thinking.

Hudson mouthed ‘don’t’ at him and Steve was bright enough to take the hint.

After another five minutes of direction, Andie seemed satisfied and went back to her seat. They picked up the play from the start of the scene and made it all the way to the end of Act One without another interruption. Hudson breathed a long sigh of relief.

“Be ready for the second act in half an hour,” Andie yelled as they left the stage.

“She’s lost the fucking plot,” Steve muttered as they shuffled into the wings.

“Just humour her to keep the peace,” Hudson told him. “You know what you’re doing and what you’re doing is great. Just stick with what we worked on before and ignore this craziness. Everything will calm down after tomorrow.”

“I hope you’re right. I can’t take much more of this shite. And certainly not four whole weeks of it.”

Hudson went straight to his dressing room. He didn’t want Andie to trap him and fill his head with more of her last-minute ideas. He needed time out.

Luke was not at the theatre that afternoon.

He’d been sent a screener of an upcoming film release and needed time alone to watch it and prepare his review.

They’d arranged to meet at The Blue Pearl at nine for a late dinner and a catch-up.

No doubt Andie would insist they rehearse late, but as far as he was concerned, they shouldn’t be making any changes to the show now.

They needed to focus on perfecting what they already had.

Working until midnight would only lead to more frayed nerves and tempers.

The dressing room was as hot as it had been all week. Hudson left the door propped open—without Luke’s sexy ass, there was no reason to close it today. He put the kettle on and dropped a green tea bag into a mug. Despite the heat, he needed the tea to calm his frazzled nerves.

He flopped on the sofa while waiting for the water to boil.

What a day it had been. He’d already experienced pre-opening jitters of his own, without Andie’s full-on meltdown impacting every aspect of the show.

It’s all good, he told himself. Everyone on stage knew their characters and their lines inside out.

Even Steve had got his act together. They knew what they were doing.

And the backstage team were first rate. As long as they all did what they were expected to, nothing could go wrong.

It’s all fine. Nothing to worry about.

He made the tea and added a good splash of cold water to cool it down.

Fifteen minutes of peace and quiet, then he’d be ready for the stage again, where hopefully Act Two would be flawless.

His ass had barely touched the sofa when a voice interrupted him.

“Hi, Hudson. Got a minute?”

From where he sat, he could not see the door, but Amber’s simpering tones were unmistakable.

“No, I don’t,” he said, imitating her smarmy voice. “I’m busy and one more time—I don’t want to talk to you. Nothing has changed on that front.”

“It’s really important,” she said.

Before Hudson could reply, she walked into the room, followed by her living shadow, Corman. For once, they weren’t smiling. Other than a tablet, neither of them seemed to be carrying any recording equipment.

“C’mon,” Hudson said. “I’m trying to take a break here. You’ve seen what it’s been like today. I need some time alone. Please, get out.”

Amber clasped her hands in front of her, head bowed. He’d never seen this humble side of her. Something was off. Something he didn’t trust. “It’s really important that we speak to you. Now.”

“While Luke isn’t here,” Corman added.

Hudson’s senses sharpened. He studied the podcasters.

What the hell were they up to now? What was so urgent that they had to speak to him in this private time between acts.

And without Luke? He sat straight, muscles tensed and ready.

“Come on then, what is it? And you’d better not be recording any of this. ”

They both shook their heads.

“We’re not,” Corman said. “Honest.” He held the tablet up, screen forward, to show him there were no audio recording apps open.

Amber shuffled closer. Her eyes met his at last, filled with a strange intensity. “This is kind of awkward. We know you and Luke have got close.”

“That’s another fact that had better not make its way onto your podcast,” he said.

“You’ve got the wrong idea, mate,” Corman said. “We’re here to help. Doing you a favour.”

Hudson doubted they ever granted favours without requiring something in return.

“You only met him a couple of weeks ago, right?” Amber asked. “When you first got here.”

He nodded, warily.

“And has he told you much about himself? About his past?”

For fuck’s sake. What are these idiots playing at?

“Look, it’s obvious you’ve got something you want to tell me.

Some dirt you’ve managed to dig up, hoping to provoke a reaction for your show.

I’m not interested. If it’s anything important, Luke will tell me himself, when he’s ready.

In the meantime, it’s none of my business, and it’s certainly not yours. ”

“The safety of this show and everyone in it is our business,” Corman said. “Especially after what happened to Julian.”

Hudson’s suspicion of their motives deepened. “What happened to Julian?” His voice was laced with scepticism.

Amber and Corman exchanged a glance.

“He doesn’t know,” she said.

“We need to tell him.”

Hudson’s jaw tightened. He was losing his patience. “Oh, knock it off. Enough of the game playing. C’mon then. Tell me, whatever bullshit it is that you think you know.”

Amber straightened up. “It’s just that Luke…might not be the nice guy that you think he is.”

“What’s that supposed to even mean?”

“We think he’s dangerous,” Corman said.

“No,” Amber said firmly. “We know it. He’s very dangerous.”

Hudson suddenly wasn’t so sure. His anger dissolved, replaced by uncertainty. He felt bare beneath their intense scrutiny. “What is it you know?” he said at last.

“Has Luke ever mentioned a man called Reece Dempsie to you?” Amber asked.

“No.” The name meant nothing.

“I’m not surprised.” Corman tapped and swiped at the screen of his tablet, before handing it to Hudson.

It showed an old newspaper article. Beloved father dead in ten-storey fall read the headline. And below, the subheading, One man arrested in connection with the death. He scanned the date of the piece. Nine years ago.

“What is this?” he asked, unable to focus on the main text.

“Luke was the man they arrested,” Amber said. “Reece was his boyfriend at the time.”

“Reece fell from the balcony of his apartment. They’d been drinking and arguing.

There were a lot of witnesses. They’d been to a party beforehand where things got out of hand between the two of them.

Eventually they left, but the fighting continued when they arrived home.

Neighbours above and below gave convincing evidence afterwards. ”

Hudson scrolled through the article. There was a photograph of a good-looking guy in his mid-twenties with a kid around five years old. He had short blond hair, blue eyes and an endearing smile. The child had the same features.

“That’s Reece’s daughter, Rose. She’s sixteen now,” Corman said. “We’ve spoken to her already. Poor kid wants answers that weren’t provided at the time.”

“He…what? Fell from the balcony?”

“That’s not as easy as it ever looks in the movies,” Corman said. “The rail was pretty high. You can’t just fall over.”

“And you think Luke pushed him?” he asked.

“The police did,” Amber said. “So did the neighbours. And Reece’s friend. And so does Rose.”

“Luke was arrested. There was a lack of substantial evidence to prove it. Eventually, Reece’s death was ruled by the coroner as misadventure. But that’s not what anyone really thinks. Not then. Not now.”

Hudson’s hands trembled as he scrolled through the page. There was another photo of Reece. On his own. It looked like a holiday snap. He was smiling in the sunshine, in shorts and a T-shirt. Happy, carefree, thinking he had his whole life ahead of him.

“I don’t see what significance this has on now.” Hudson’s voice sounded shaky.

“Don’t you?” Amber asked.

“We do,” Corman said. “Another man is dead in strange circumstances. And Luke Kamal just happens to be involved in a production of the play he was working on. It could be a coincidence. A mighty big one. But we don’t think so.”

“Luke didn’t know Julian.” The words were barely out of Hudson’s mouth when he remembered the visit he’d had from DS Coppola and Luke’s ex Kris. They’d asked if he knew Julian was bisexual. It had seemed odd at the time, like they were desperately trying to make a case.

But what if there was more to it than that?

What if Luke and Julian had known each other? Or even deeper than that. What if they’d been lovers?

The small dressing room seemed to close in around him, while the floor felt like it had disappeared.

Had he been sleeping with Julian’s killer all along?