Page 103 of Blood Stone

Suddenly, Constantinople was sexy.

Elizabeth Bentley arrived amidst a blaze of camera and video lights and flashes, looking glorious in khakis and sunglasses, her black hair piled on top of her head in an artless mess that had probably taken over an hour to arrange. She posed with Patrick and Kate and gracefully sat down for interview after photo session after podcast, showing no sign of impatience or weariness.

Kate found herself fortified by Adrian’s preparations. He had water and ice tea on standby for her, Mary-Anne and Brittany at her beck and call, plus spare batteries for her cellphone so she could yell for expert help whenever she needed it. He sent regular reports on the packing of her trailer, assuring her that all was well.

Every time she looked up into the serried rows of cameras and radio mikes, just off to the right she would see Garrett leaning against the tent pole, his arms crossed, watching. Her spirits would lift just at the sight of him.

After the third hour, there was movement at the open flap of the tent, as more media people entered. A new busload must have arrived, which meant a re-run of the same basic questions. Again. Patrick and Elizabeth were being grilled at the moment, which gave Kate a chance to catch her breath. She watched the new people unpacking their gear.

One tall one was carrying no gear at all. He moved around behind the orderly rows of cameras, heading for the far end of the row, which was the end Kate was sitting at.

There was something about his walk….

She frowned, trying to recall where she knew that slight swagger from. The big belly jutting from the breast bone down was unfamiliar to her. There was a gold ring on the hand….

Horror washed through her as she recognized the ring, coupled it up with the name and identified the man swinging around the end of the cameras to face her.

Billy Donnelly smirked at her, his now corpulent face ruddy with good cheer. “Hi, darlin’”he mouthed. His western shirt was too tight across the chest, the pants too low beneath the belly. The boots were expensive. Bought with her money, no doubt.

The water bottle in her hand cracked. Water spilled across the table top, heading for the microphones and leads and dripping onto the floor.

“Oh shit. Damn. Sorry,” Kate murmured, trying to mop up the mess with the promo flyers lying on the table. Brittany leapt in with tissues, then Mary-Ann was there with napkins from the hostess table.

“I need a break,” Kate whispered to Mary-Ann. “And I need to slip out the back way.”

“There’s a back way?” Mary-Ann asked, startled.

Kate rolled her eyes at her.

“Okay,” Mary-Ann said. “Just go. I’ll figure something out.”

Kate left the two women wiping up water and soggy paper. She walked behind the painted and stretched canvas backdrop that was being used as a background for the table. There was nothing behind it but empty tent and dirt floor. She rushed for the tent wall, dropped to her knees and picked up the bottom of the tent. It was shockingly heavy. She hauled on it and realized she was going to have to wriggle under it. She lifted it enough to get her head under and pushed through. Then she eased the rest of her body through, pulling herself along the dirt with her hands. She was going to look like nothing on earth when she picked herself up again, but it was better than staying in the same tent with Billy Donnelly.

She had to lift the tent again to get her feet free. She stood and tried to brush herself off, looking around for observers. A few crew members, carrying equipment and gear, glanced in her direction, but they were too busy to stop and stare.

Kate headed for her trailer and the safety that the trailer and, hopefully, Adrian would provide.

As she passed the catering truck, Billy stepped out and grabbed her arm, bringing her to a skidding halt. “I figured you’d do a bunk, you gutless worm.”

He may have put on nearly a hundred pounds, but he hadn’t lost any strength at all. She hung from his grip, feeling her muscles and tendons mash together under his squeezing fingers. Nothing had changed.

But she had to try. “What the fuck are you doing here, Billy? You aren’t supposed to come within a hundred feet of me.”

“Look around, sweet-cheeks. There isn’t a cop within spittin’ distance to stop me.” He grinned. “You went and got yourself all fancy, didn’t you?”

She swallowed. “Nothing I do is any of your business anymore, Billy. Let me go, get back on the bus you rode in on and get the fuck out of my life. You’ve done enough damage.”

His face darkened. “You really don’t want to talk to me that way, sweetums. I hold your future in my hands, remember?”

“I know you stole my first movie from me, but that’s all you’re ever going to get from me, asshole.”

She didn’t see the slap coming, but from past experience, she should have been braced for it. It smashed across the side of her face, catching her eye, her temple and her cheekbone. Her eye immediately started to swell and her cheekbone to throb. She stared at the ground, trying to get her vision to come together.

“That’s for being crude,” he told her. “And you’re wrong about me being out of your life, sugar. I’ve been chatting with a very good lawyer and he says I have a great case for claiming alimony, for all those years we were still married, while you were out there making all your block-buster movies.”

Coppery fear flooded her mouth. “I left you ten years ago!” she shouted. “Long before I made any of those movies!”

“But we were still married. You didn’t bother filing for divorce for another seven years. You maybe shoulda got around to it sooner, huh?” He was smiling. Enjoying himself. “I figure you made all your top earners in that time, too. And they’re still earning, so I get a split on that, too.”