CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
When I woke up the next morning, I was glad I’d sent Lauren a text saying we would be in late. In fact, part of me was sorry I said I’d go in at all. I was pretty sure I’d benefit from sleeping the day away. But I had a new incentive to make this show work—Teddy and Dixie had reminded me that we were a family. The show had to succeed so we could pay off that loan. Then I could figure out where I fit in here.
Still, I couldn’t let go of the conversation I’d overheard between Teddy and Dixie the night before. I needed to talk to Teddy and find out what financial issues he was dealing with regarding the farm, but I was also worried about how he’d come up with the extra cash. I was particularly worried after Dixie had suggested his strategy might not be on the up-and-up.
After I showered and went into the kitchen, I was surprised to see my grandmother in front of the stove frying bacon. Dixie was still in the shower, and there was no sign of Teddy. I almost walked out, but the coffee smell was begging me to stay.
“Good morning,” I said as I walked over to the cabinet and grabbed a mug.
She didn’t answer while I poured myself some coffee and topped it off with milk. I tried to ignore my disappointment as I headed for the swinging door.
“Where you goin’?” she asked, her gaze still on the skillet. “I’m about to start the pancakes.”
My mouth dropped open, but nothing came out.
She glanced up at me. “You’re too damn skinny. Your momma always wanted you that way, keepin’ pieces of pie and cookies from you . . . Well, you’re home now, and Baumgartners eat.”
Tears flooded my eyes. This was as close to a declaration of love as I was going to get from Meemaw. “Yes, ma’am,” I croaked out.
“We still have ten minutes, so go tell your cousins.”
I could still hear the shower upstairs, so I went out the front door to drink my coffee on the porch. I was surprised to see Teddy sitting on the steps with his own cup of coffee.
“Is there room for me?” I asked.
He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Summy, what are you doin’ out of bed?”
“No rest for the wicked,” I said, descending the steps. I squeezed in next to him, bumping him with my hip to get him to make room.
“Tell me about it.” He chuckled as he scooted over, but all the laughter had left his voice when he asked, “Why were you and Dixie out at Lake Edna yesterday?”
I realized that he didn’t know anything about our investigations—fake or otherwise. I told him about the cases Lauren had lined up, then said, “But Otto . . . he was really missing. And Gretchen was so upset. The Sweet Briar Police weren’t lookin’ into it, and Lauren saw no urgency in the matter, so I decided we could kill two birds with one stone—find Otto and help redeem my image on the show.”
“It almost got you killed, Summer.”
“I wasn’t purposely lookin’ for danger. No one thought anything bad had happened to Otto.” Dixie and I hadn’t bought that, but there was no need to tell him that. “The janitor told me he’d seen Otto’s bike out there, so we went to look.”
Teddy sat up. “What janitor?”
I told him what I remembered about the incident, then added his description. “He was average height and build, he had brown eyes, a trim beard, and short brown hair—nearly shaved—and he was wearing a blue T-shirt and jeans. Do you know who it could have been?”
He shook his head. “No. Not a clue.” He turned to me, looking more serious. “You need to leave everything regarding Otto Olson alone.”
“What?”
“It’s obviously bigger than you and Dixie thought. You should step aside and let the police handle it.”
“Teddy.”
“I’m serious, Summer. Stick to your fake cases with Lauren or, if you hate it enough, quit.”
“I can’t quit.”
“If the show’s makin’ you miserable, then do it. Ignore the whole Baumgartners-aren’t-quitters motto. Meemaw’ll get over it.”
“It’s more than that.” I took a sip of my coffee, then turned to face him. “I need to be honest about something, Teddy. The reason I’m really here.” I hadn’t intended to say anything, but the secret had been weighing more heavily on me now that I was here with them. It was harder to ignore.
A grin twitched at the corners of his lips. “You’re working for the cotton farmers in Dale County, trying to learn my secrets.”
“I’m serious, Teddy.”
He sat up slightly. “Okay.”
“A few months before the fire, I was in Atlanta filming a commercial, and Pawpaw came up to see me.”
Teddy watched me intently.
“The farm was having problems . . . there had been a huge rainy period, and the fields were too wet to harvest. Most of the crop was lost.”
“I remember,” he said. “I was in school up at Alabama A&M. I was concerned about the rain, but Dad and Pawpaw said there was nothing to worry about.”
“Pawpaw asked me for a loan.”
He turned to look out at the land in front of us. “So you gave him one?”
“Sort of.” I pushed out a breath and leaned over my knees. “He needed three hundred thousand to tide him over to the next year, but he had two conditions. One, he wouldn’t let me give him the money outright. He asked me to cosign a loan with a ten-year balloon payment. I was to make the payments for the first year, then he’d take over as soon as he got back on his feet. He was certain he could pay it off before it came due. But then he died, and Momma and I had our falling-out, and she took off with my money.”
He did a double take. “Wait. What?”
“The loan—”
“Not the loan, Summer. The part about your mother taking your money. She said the money she had was from managing your career.”
I gave him a sad smile. “I finally stood up to Momma, and my bank account was the price I paid.”
“She stole your money? Why didn’t you press charges?”
“Dixie. It would have caught the attention of the media, and I was doin’ my best to lie low and let the news about the fire fizzle out. If I’d prosecuted or sued . . . especially since Momma ran back here . . .”
His eyes sank closed. “You gave up your money to protect Dixie.” He sounded heartsick.
I glanced at the door behind me. “You can never tell her. Swear to me.”
“Yeah, I won’t. She would hate that. But I don’t understand how this happened.”
“Bottom line, Momma took most of my money, which meant I couldn’t just outright pay off the loan. I’ve been making the payments ever since, but the balloon payment is coming due, Teddy. And that’s why I’m here—I’ll make enough money from this show to pay it off.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, starting to sound pissed.
“That was the second part of the promise: I couldn’t tell Meemaw.”
He gave me a wry grin. “Uh, I know you had a head injury, but I’m still not sure how you’ve confused me with Meemaw.”
“You were still in college when Pawpaw died, and then you dropped out of school, and you were dealing with the whole mess with Dixie and the farm . . . I didn’t want to worry you. And if I’m being honest, I was sure I’d make the money back. I never expected to be nearly thirty years old and so flat-out broke that I’m on the verge of losing my house and the family farm.” I grabbed his hand. “But I’m going to save the farm, Teddy. I promise you that.”
“Jesus, Summer. You’re losing your house? Don’t you want to put the money toward that?”
“It’s too late for that, and if I have to choose, I pick the farm.”
“Where are you gonna live when this is done?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Do you want to go back to California? You never wanted that life.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”
“I do. You have a home here, Summy. You belong here with us.”
My eyes filled with tears, and I rested my head on his shoulder to hide them. “I heard you and Dixie talking last night. I take it the farm has more money problems.”
His shoulder stiffened under my cheek. “I’m takin’ care of it, Summer.”
“But if we work together—”
“You have the loan covered. Leave it to me to handle the rest.” He leaned down and kissed my temple.
“Why’d Dixie think you might know something about what happened to her old boyfriend?”
“I do. Ryker Pelletier was a drug-dealin’ piece of white trash, and he got what was comin’ to him.” His voice was so hard he didn’t sound anything like himself.
I sat up. “Did Dixie know?”
The screen door opened and Dixie asked, “Did Dixie know what?”
“About Ryker bein’ in the Sweet Briar Hospital morgue,” Teddy said, getting to his feet.
Did the abrupt change in subject mean Dixie didn’t know about Ryker dealing drugs?
“I was with you when we found him,” Dixie said. “Don’t you remember? Maybe you shouldn’t work today.”
“I remember,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “I’m just tired, but I have to work today.” I looked up at Teddy for support now that he knew the stakes.
“She’ll be okay, but if she looks too tired, tell that witch Lauren she’s either taking a break or coming home.”
“I’ll have no problem keepin’ Lauren in line,” Dixie said, “but you need to keep the news about Ryker to yourself. Luke’s still keepin’ his identity secret, which means we’re not supposed to know.”
“Did Luke tell you last night?” Teddy asked.
“Definitely not.”
Teddy’s brow lowered into a scowl. “I still don’t get why you’re civil to the man who ruined your life.”
Dixie groaned. “I’m not having this conversation again. Let it go.”
My phone started to ring in my pocket.
“Get yourselves in here,” Meemaw called out from inside the house. “Breakfast is ready.”
I tugged my phone out, and my heart stuck in my chest when I saw it was Marina’s number. LA was two hours behind, which meant it was close to seven in the morning there. Way too early for Marina to be calling me.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I said. “My best friend is callin’.”
“Don’t take too long,” Dixie said. “Meemaw will tan your hide if the pancakes get cold.”
“Start without me.”
I answered the phone while Dixie and Teddy went inside. “Marina, what are you doin’ callin’ me this early?”
“I just found out you were attacked! Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’m sorry . . . yesterday was crazy.”
“I had to find out on the news, Summer! They said you were in the hospital in critical condition with a head injury!”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. In fact, I’m sitting on Meemaw’s front porch drinking a cup of coffee. I really am sorry.”
She hesitated. “How’s it going out there?”
I pushed out a huge groan. “Workin’ with Lauren is just as difficult as we expected, but it’s good gettin’ to be with my family again.”
“I hear your Alabama accent is coming back.”
“Yeah . . .” I sighed. No use fighting it.
“Have you seen your ex?”
“Multiple times. It’s gone better than expected.”
“Is the spark still there?”
I wasn’t sure what to tell her. In truth, the spark had never left. The real question was how smart it would be to consider fanning it into a flame. “It’s complicated.” I heard my grandmother yelling my name. “I have to go, Marina. I’ll call you soon. Thanks again for house-sitting.” Given how many paparazzi had staked out my house, we’d agreed it would be a good idea for Marina to stay there and keep an eye on things.
“You better . . . But, hey! Before you go, I thought you should know that those weird hang-up calls on your house phone have stopped.”
After my right hook made national television, I’d gotten several calls to my landline from a blocked number. The caller would quietly say my name and then hang up. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing, right? They must have figured out I’m not there right now.”
“I guess, but I still have a bad feeling about it.”
“You know weird things happen with me. But if they’ve stopped, then we have nothing to worry about. I’ll call you later, Marina. Thanks.”
“Be careful out there, Summer.”
“I plan to.”
By the time I finally joined my family at the table, Dixie and Teddy were nearly done, and I was full after a few bites. The nurse had told me not to operate any moving vehicles until my vision was fully repaired, so Dixie drove the truck into town while I dozed in the passenger seat. I woke up when she pulled into a parking spot close to the office, and I was beginning to question whether I could handle going back to work. My head felt like it was splitting in two, and my vision was fuzzy.
When we walked into the office at nine thirty, Lauren had a full-blown conniption.
“You’re late!”
“I’m not supposed to be here at all, Lauren,” I said, sitting in my chair. The room was hot, stuffy, and crowded with people. Her yelling wasn’t helping my headache. “The doctor expected me to take time off, but I’ll be fine as long as I don’t overdo it.”
She gave me her version of a death stare, but it was hard to take someone seriously after seeing them plastered with your vomit.
“I’m here,” I said. “I’m gonna stick this out for as long as I can.” I glanced over at the crew. “Is it just me, or is it hot in here?”
“The a/c’s out,” Tony said. “We’re leaving the door propped open for now, but someone’s coming to look at it.”
Karen was studying me, looking pleased as she said to Lauren, “I told you her bruises would look worse today. It makes this whole thing more authentic.”
Or it would make me look like a joke, depending on how Lauren decided to spin it. I wouldn’t put it past her to play up the Summer-moved-Otto’s-body-and-faked-her-attack angle to manipulate ratings. I had to earn my $50,000-per-episode salary, and she might decide this was how.
I sucked in a breath. We’d only been filming for two days, but other than Otto’s body and my attack, there was absolutely nothing to justify the high price tag. Oh, Lord. What if she found out the other dead guy was Dixie’s ex-boyfriend? And if he had been a drug dealer . . . I had to make sure she had plenty of other drama for the show. Even if it painted me in a bad light.
Then something else occurred to me.
Maybe she really was behind moving the body, only not how we’d thought. Maybe this was all some elaborate scheme to set me up and make me look like a fool. It was safe to say she didn’t like me, and she seemed ambitious enough not to think twice about sabotaging people to benefit her own career.
Lauren threw up her hands. “Whatever. We’re an hour and a half behind schedule. Let’s get started.”
I wanted to point out that I’d warned her in the text I’d sent the night before, but it would have been wasted breath.
“Okay,” Lauren said, “to accommodate Summer’s special needs”—she used air quotes to insinuate I was being a diva—“Karen has rearranged the schedule again. She’s set up a series of interviews for most of the day so our ‘star’ can sit her pretty little ass in a chair all day.”
I was past caring what Lauren thought of me, but I did want the respect of the crew. A quick glance assured me they knew what was going on. They all seemed sympathetic, all except . . . “Where’s Bill?”
“You don’t need to worry about Bill,” Lauren said. “That’s my job.”
I shot a worried glance to Dixie, who was sitting at her own desk. Had Lauren figured out that Bill had offered to help us and fired him? But Dixie gave me a reassuring smile, and I was pretty sure she’d been in contact with him. He was probably out getting B-roll.
Lauren went through a list of six interviews, which ranged from a couple who thought their housekeeper was stealing from them to a husband and wife who questioned which neighborhood dog had impregnated their Yorkie show dog, and a follow-up visit with the adulterer’s wife, Nettie Peabody.
“If you’ll give me your spare outfits, I’ll put them in the back,” Karen said. I was taken aback when I realized she was addressing Dixie and me.
“What?”
She gave me a blank look. “You were supposed to bring two or three extra outfits to wear for the interviews.” When I didn’t say anything, she added, “We’re filming all those interviews today, but we don’t want it to look like they happened on the same day.”
That made sense, but it was the first I’d heard of it. I glanced at Dixie again, and she gave me a sunny smile. “Got it covered.” Then she reached down into her oversize bag and pulled out a smaller bag.
Karen took it from her and looked inside.
“How are you going to explain the bruises on my face not changing over multiple ‘days’?” I asked, the sound of my own voice sending shock waves of pain through my head. I already needed another round of over-the-counter painkillers.
“Seriously, Summer?” Lauren groaned. “I thought you were a professional. Makeup.”
Of course. And any other time I would have realized that. Maybe I should call today off. “Sorry, Lauren,” I sighed as I rubbed my temple. “This is my first foray into reality TV.”
“Keep it up and your next reality show will be filming a porno.”
“Excuse me?” Luke asked from the doorway.
My mouth dropped open when I saw him. What was he doing here?
“Can I help you with something, Chief?” Lauren asked dryly. “Because this is a closed set.”
“Then maybe you should have closed the door.”
She walked over to him, but something in her had changed. There was a certain swagger in her step that suggested she wasn’t any less attracted to Luke after seeing him covered in vomit. “This is private property, Chief.”
The way she kept saying chief made me wonder if Lauren had a thing for law-enforcement officers.
“And I’m standing in the threshold.”
Lauren tipped one shoulder higher and tilted her head just a bit to the side, a slightly dismissive gesture, but it was obvious she was coming on to him. “I might be able to invite you in if you’re a good boy.”
“Is that an invitation to be in one of your pornos?” he asked sarcastically.
She got flustered and took a step back. “I don’t make pornos,” she said, outrage filling her voice.
“And the last time I checked, neither does Ms. Butler.”
Lauren put a hand on her hip and her gaze narrowed. “Is there something I can help you with, Chief Montgomery?”
He looked down at her with cool disdain. “You? No.” His gaze lifted to me. “I need to speak to Ms. Butler, but it’s not urgent.”
“She’ll be busy all day,” Lauren said, glaring up at him.
“Surely she gets a lunch break. Isn’t that union rules?”
My eyes widened in shock. I’d told him plenty about movie and TV-show sets during our summer together, but he’d never seemed particularly interested. This was proof he had paid attention. I knew he wanted to talk to me about Otto, but I was surprised he’d gone to the trouble of dropping by the office.
Lauren turned her glare on Karen.
“Yes,” Karen said, getting flustered as she glanced down at her tablet. “But we haven’t scheduled a time yet. We have two interviews to get to this morning, and we never know how long those will last.”
Luke turned to my cousin. “Dixie, you’re her assistant, right?”
She sat up straighter in her seat. “Yeah.”
“Would you give me a call when Ms. Butler gets a lunch break?”
She gave me a glance as though asking permission, so I gave a tiny nod. She turned back to Luke. “Yeah. Sure.”
Luke’s gaze landed on me for a few seconds as though studying me to make sure I was okay. “Thanks.” Then he headed down the sidewalk toward the coffee shop.
“What was that about?” Lauren asked.
“I have no idea,” I said, not wanting to get into it. If she found out this was likely related to Otto, she’d probably figure out a way to film it.
“You need to keep your personal life out of the workplace.” Then Lauren started barking orders to start the first interview.
The morning dragged on. Nettie came in to hear her report, and we explained that while we’d gotten plenty of proof of her husband’s cheating, my camera had been stolen.
“You mean someone else has photos of my husband in his skivvies?” she screeched.
My mouth parted as I turned toward Dixie. The whole world was going to see him without a shirt, though they’d see every last bit of the couple’s dirty laundry, and she was worried about a few tame photos.
Dixie quickly took over. “Don’t worry, Nettie. He doesn’t look all that great in them, so no one’s gonna be pinnin’ him up on their wall.”
She only calmed down after we reluctantly agreed to get more photos. Lauren made us run the scene again, this time pretending to show Nettie photos on my laptop.
The next clients, Derick and Mallory Hinton, were the ones with the dog—which they’d brought with them. The Hintons were in their thirties and didn’t look like they were from around Sweet Briar. They seemed too polished. Derick wore expensive dress pants and loafers and a silk tie he wore with his fitted (and probably tailored) dress shirt. Mallory wore a designer black dress and heels and carried a Prada purse.
Dixie greeted them and motioned the two to the chairs in front of my desk before maneuvering her chair closer.
Mallory cradled her Yorkie to her chest. The dog had a pink bow between her ears and studied me as though trying to decide if I was friend or foe. “Our little Fifi was violated.”
“Now, Mallory,” Derick cooed, rubbing his wife’s arm, “Fifi doesn’t seem the worse for wear.”
Mallory turned on her husband with fury in her eyes, jerking her arm from his touch. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Derick. You’re a man.”
“Oh, my God, Mallory. Not that again. She’s a dog.”
Mallory became even more outraged. “A dog? She’s like a child to me! And our child was raped!”
While their argument would probably be good for ratings, it was making my head hurt even more. “Did you witness the event that led to Fifi’s impregnation?”
She pressed her lips tightly together. “No. Well . . .”
“Mallory,” I said, “before we know if we can help you, you have to give us something to follow up on. But first, let me ask you this: what do you plan to do when you find out which dog impregnated Fifi?”
“Stop saying impregnated. You make it sound . . . normal.” She shuddered. “My poor dog was violated.”
“Was she injured?” I asked.
She frowned. “Not that I know of.”
“Y’all aren’t from around here, are you?” Dixie asked in disbelief.
“No,” Derick said, “we’re from Atlanta, and we were told Sweet Briar is a bedroom community of Dothan.”
“I see,” Dixie said, then turned her attention to Mallory. “Mrs. Hinton,” Dixie said, drawing out her name, “you do know how all that works, don’t you?”
“What works?”
Dixie narrowed her eyes. “When a dog goes in heat.”
“You mean when she’s on her period?” Mallory asked.
“Okay . . . ,” Dixie said with forced patience. “So you know that a lot of dogs in heat are lookin’ for . . . a boyfriend.”
Mallory’s eyes widened. “What? Not my Fifi. She’s a lady.”
Dixie’s eyes twinkled. “You know what they say—a lady on the street and a freak in the . . . alley.”
Mallory gasped in horror and clutched her dog tighter.
“We’re getting off track here,” I said. “Back to my original question: What do you plan to do if you find out which dog . . . is the father of Fifi’s puppies?”
“Sue for child support, of course.”
I blinked, sure my concussion had given me hallucinations. This was insane, but obviously Lauren knew all about this woman’s brand of crazy. Hell, she probably already knew who the culprit was. Dixie and I had a part to play, and we were expected to deliver.
After we discussed all the possible ways Fifi could have gotten loose (Derick admitted he had let her out unsupervised while Mallory was enjoying a spa day), we told them we’d get back to them. Then we ran the scene two more times. Proving she was as tired with the takes as we were, Fifi got down, peed by the window, and snapped at Dixie when she tried to pick her up.
“Good riddance,” Dixie said when they walked out the door. “Is it lunchtime yet?”
I gave her a suspicious look. I knew why she was so eager.
“Be back in an hour ready to talk to the Davises about their daughter,” Lauren said. “And Summer and Dixie, you need to have already changed your clothes.”
Dixie was busy tapping on her phone, but she glanced up at me. “You should change before you go to lunch, Summer. I bet the blue dress I brought for you will make your eyes pop on camera.”
“She’s right,” Karen agreed, oblivious to the real reason Dixie was suggesting the dress.
“Fine,” I huffed. “But I know what you’re up to, Dixie Belle Baumgartner, and you’re wasting your time.” I refused to get my hopes up.
“Helpin’ you look good on camera? I know I am; you already look great.”
I snorted. “Suckin’ up won’t help you now.”
Karen found the dress and handed it to me, along with a pair of nude flats that weren’t mine. Dixie.
I went into the bathroom and changed. I was zipping up the back when Dixie knocked on the door. She opened it before I could respond and handed me a tube of lipstick. “Here. You need this.”
I gave her a hard look in the mirror. “To be interviewed by the police chief about the pretend janitor?”
“Oh,” she said, getting excited, “just like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct.” She grabbed the bottom of my dress and started to lift. “Quick. Take off your panties.”
I slapped her hands away. “I will do no such thing! This is a professional . . . meeting. Dressin’ me up like a Barbie doll isn’t gonna change that fact.”
“Lookin’ like a Barbie doll did you good in all those pageants your momma put you in.”
I pushed her out into the hall, getting grumpy. “The only thing that stuck with me from all those damn pageants was cupcake hands.” Then I made a face and held my arms slightly out from my body, my fingers pressed together and curved inward as though I was carrying cupcakes.
“No wonder you won Junior Miss Supreme of Bixley County,” Luke said from the office.
My gaze jerked up, and I flushed when I saw him. “It was Junior Miss Supreme Princess,” I said. “And it was a long time ago.”
“Your momma still has the trophy and the tiara,” Dixie said.
I spun to face her, feeling dizzy from moving so fast. “What?”
“Yeah. In her trophy room. She has all of ’em.”
I felt a pang of rejection and hurt. She had kept my trophies and tiaras, but she’d turned her back on me. Why did I care so much? It wasn’t like I wanted them anyway.
I’d always been Momma’s path to glory, and she’d left me behind when I’d stopped being useful. In the end, my mother had chosen the pageants over me. It hadn’t come as much of a surprise, but there was still a big gaping hole in my heart.