Page 13

Chapter 13

LA Confidential

KEENAN

“C ut!” Wesselman shouts. “Beautiful work, Vanessa. In the next scene, I need you to look toward camera three when you deliver your last line. Stiffen your body, turn away and then give the camera a dramatic glance. Spoon, I need more anger from you. Your wife has admitted to an affair, show us how you really feel.”

“She’s impossible to be mad at boss, even if she’s a cheater.” Spence Spooner, the male lead for the film, grins and winks at Vanessa, which three weeks ago would’ve had me wanting to tear out his heart. I’ve since learned the man will flirt with anything, including cameras. Also, his husband, Gerald, will castrate him if he even considers straying.

I watch silently from the shadows as Vanessa takes her place and waits for her mark. Spoon takes his place, his face assuming an expression of rage. Despite his easy-going personality, when the cameras roll, he morphs into his character as if he’s never been anyone else.

Having spent three weeks on set, I’ve become intimately acquainted with the process of filming. If Vanessa weren’t in the shots, I would find it tedious, but when she’s in the scene, every eye goes to her, every person in the vicinity stops what they’re doing to watch, me most of all. I can’t tear my eyes from her.

She commands an audience with such natural charisma I would be jealous if I weren’t so proud of my mate. I have the most talented, beautiful and humble mate on the planet. And she can cook too!

I discovered that little gem when Wesselman finally gave Vanessa half a day off from filming and she dragged me to a grocery store.

“What do you like to eat?” she asked, going up and down each aisle as I dutifully pushed the cart behind her.

I scrambled to think of my preferred foods, but the only thing I could come up with was wild hare and deer. Nothing beats a freshly killed deer, it’s carcass still steaming in the crisp mountain morning air as I munch on its intestines.

Vanessa stared at me with horror, her mouth slightly open, her face paling as she caught wind of my thoughts.

I panicked, not wanting her upset over my food preferences. “My favourite food is…” I glanced at the shelf next to me, “water chestnuts. Those are good, right?”

She burst out laughing. “I’m not making fresh deer for supper, but I can probably do something with these.” She grabbed the water chestnuts from the shelf and dropped the can into our cart next to a carton of milk, a can of coffee, and two bottles of red wine.

We finished shopping and went home where Vanessa created a red Thai curry sauce with vegetables, water chestnuts, chicken and coconut rice. I had no idea food could taste like that and wolfed down every morsel, patting my belly with satisfaction as Vanessa looked on proudly.

She has since taken every opportunity we’re not on set to cook for me and since it makes her happy, I enthusiastically support her feed-the-wolf-until-he-bursts hobby.

A scream has me jerking my head up. I automatically seek out Vanessa, who looks confused but unharmed.

“Cut!” Wesselman’s voice echoes through the set.

I resist the urge to shift into my wolf as I hurry toward a storage room where the screaming is coming from. I try to push the door open, but something heavy is blocking it from the other side. I put my shoulder into it, but it won’t move.

A hand lands on my back and I glance over to find Stelios.

“Let me help.”

I nod and make room for the large man. Together, we push the door open, but the sight greeting us is a shock. The room is meant for storage, but the last time I saw it, everything was in order, organized and labelled. Now, the shelves have been pushed over and boxes, costumes, and set pieces litter the floor.

“Help!” A desperate voice calls. “I’m back here.”

Vanessa grips my arm. “It’s Rachel and she sounds hurt.”

“We’re coming, Rachel!” Stelios calls, propping a shelf against the wall.

“Be careful!” Rachel calls back, her voice muffled. “It’s a house of cards back here and I’m underneath this mess.”

One by one, Stelios, Wesselman, and I forge a path towards the back, pushing shelves out of the way. Vanessa and a couple of set assistants help by clearing away the debris.

“An ambulance is on the way,” shouts Allison, a makeup artist.

When we reach the back, Vanessa rushes past, kneeling on the floor next to Rachel, her face twisted in concern. The two women have grown closer over the weeks, Vanessa worming her way under Rachel’s prickly defenses.

I kneel next to her, glancing over Rachel. Her skin is pale, her features twisted in pain, her arm obviously broken. “Are you injured anywhere else?”

“I don’t think so.” She struggles to sit up. Stelios, a trained medic, braces her arm against her chest and pulls her up so her back is against the wall.

“What happened?” Wesselman demands, shaken. “These shelves are supposed to be secured.”

“They were bolted to the floor,” Rachel replies weakly. “All of them. I checked myself when we first set up shop.” She shakes her head, then flinches as she jars her arm. “I came in here to grab the cane for Spoon’s afternoon scene, but it wasn’t where I left it. I looked through everything, which is how I ended up back here. I heard the door open, called out a greeting, but next thing I knew, the shelves were crashing into each other and I was knocked to the floor.”

“This sounds deliberate,” I mutter, glancing at the mess surrounding us. There’s no way we can preserve a crime scene. Stelios checks Rachel’s head for bumps while I ask, “Is there anyone who might want to hurt you?”

She rolls her eyes. “I piss off a lot of people, Keenan. It’s kind of my job.”

I’d noticed. “Maybe someone thought you went too far. Anyone in particular stick out?”

She thinks about it, then shakes her head, but her eyes slide to the floor.

“What is it?” I urge.

Sighing, she looks at Wesselman. “Sorry, Zach. I should’ve told you earlier.”

“Told me what?” He shoves a hand through his hair, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

Shamefaced, she admits, “This isn’t the first accident. It’s the biggest one so far, but other smaller accidents have been going on almost daily.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Wesselman demands.

“I didn’t want to worry you. The film is already off schedule because of Hailey leaving.” Her face softens as she looks at Vanessa. “Which is for the best, but it has set us back.” She refocuses on Wesselman. “I only recently started to suspect sabotage. I wanted to investigate first, so I’d have some proof when I approached you about my suspicion.”

Her explanation seems to calm Wesselman.

“Could the culprit have found out about your investigation?” I ask.

She nods. “I was asking around about the accidents. I guess anyone could’ve overheard.”

“And thought to take you out,” I say grimly.

“What kind of accidents?” Wesselman asks incredulously. “How did I not notice anything?”

“No offence, boss,” Rachel says, grimacing in pain. “But you don’t notice much when you’re neck deep in a new film. That’s why you have me.”

He smiles and pats her shoulder. “You’re the best in the biz, Rach, but you can’t keep things like this to yourself. You could’ve been killed.”

“What were the other accidents?” I ask, turning the conversation back to the sabotage.

“My stunt car,” Stelios says. “The vehicle we were supposed to use to get Vanessa’s double on the train.” His gaze is on Rachel.

She nods at his words.

“I didn’t think anything of it because cars break down, but first the cooling system went last week, then the brakes a few days ago. I ordered a new one, but it doesn’t get here until next week.”

“Putting us another week behind schedule and $150,000 behind budget,” Rachel adds grimly. “I thought they were just coincidences until they started to add up. Rotten food in the snack buffet, electrical to the trailers being cut, lost costumes, broken set pieces.”

“My makeup!” Allison gasps. “A few items went missing and a tube of toner was replaced with fake tanner. I thought I’d lost my mind and chalked it up to bad memory.” Her horrified gaze finds Vanessa. “We even laughed about it when you ended up with a deep bronze fake tan. Oh my god, what if they’d replaced it with something else, something that could have really damaged your skin? You could have been hurt.”

A few seconds of silence follows as we absorb the fact that there’s a saboteur on set, then Wesselman speaks up, “It’s clear we need to get the police involved. Rachel could’ve been killed by the falling shelves and tampering with a prop vehicle is downright criminal.” His brow wrinkles. “I want my lead actors offset while we’re sorting this out. Everyone else will stay and answer questions so we can get to the bottom of this.”

An assistant pops their head into the room, announcing, “The ambulance is here.”

Rachel surges up, groans, then sinks back down. “I don’t want an ambulance.”

“You’re going to the hospital and getting that arm taken care of,” Wesselman snaps. “And I’m going with you.”

“You don’t understand,” she says, panicked. “I can’t go to the hospital.”

“Why not?” Wesselman demands.

I relax enough to allow my senses to reach out, giving Rachel a once over. At first, I get nothing, but then a faint glow comes through. The glow of a wild animal.

Rachel’s voice cracks. “I can’t… I can’t…”

“Because you’ll be healed by tomorrow morning,” I finish for her.

“You’re a shifter,” Wesselman guesses, stunned.

She nods, her face so pale the blue veins in her temple stand out.

I squeeze her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Have you broken any bones before?”

“No,” she says, “but I know what to expect. It’ll hurt like a fucker while it’s healing, but it’ll be good as new once the bone knits.”

“Yes, exactly. Make sure you get lots of rest. Healing will take a lot out of you. Drink a bottle of whiskey for the pain.”

“I’ll make sure she gets home and I’ll stay to watch over her myself,” Wesselman says, waving away Rachel’s protest. “Stelios, can you open an investigation with the police?”

“Of course,” Stelios agrees.

“Let’s go,” Wesselman says grimly.

I slide my arms under Rachel and lift her, carrying her out to Wesselman’s BMW, Vanessa holding Rachel’s good hand as we walk. Wesselman pulls out of the lot at the same time as the rejected ambulance.

“Well, this is an unexpected development.” Spoon slings an arm around Vanessa’s shoulders. “Guess we’re on break for a few days. Want to run some lines out by your lovely pool tomorrow?”

“Not a chance,” I intervene, tugging Vanessa against my side and flinging his arm away. “I’m taking Vanessa to the safest place on the planet until these accidents are sorted out.”

She looks at me with wide-eyed excitement. “Wolf-Haven?”

“Wolf-Haven,” I confirm.

She jumps up and down under my armpit, clapping her hands. “Oh my god! I get to meet a King and Queen and all the princes and princesses!”

Spoon watches in amusement. “Even better. I’ll use your pool while you’re away. Mine is east-facing and margaritas are best enjoyed in the afternoon with full sun on the pool deck.”