CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
By the time Lauren called it a day at six thirty, I was beyond exhausted. I’d forced myself to look attentive for the last thirty minutes while a woman told me her house was either haunted or her ex-husband was harassing her. We promised we’d get to the bottom of it. Since these cases all seemed to be preplanned, I’d bet good money that Lauren would have us insist it was the ghost, specifically the one that old-timers said roamed the streets of Sweet Briar. I suspected the legend was pure prime-time gold in her eyes.
“We have an eight-a.m. call time tomorrow, so everyone be on time,” Lauren said as the crew began to pack up. “And, Summer,” she said, turning to me, “your little staycation is over. You’re going back out in the field tomorrow, so be prepared. We’ll be lucky to finish filming on time as it is.”
Only Lauren would consider working from a chair while recovering from a concussion a staycation, but I was too tired to argue with her. Besides, we both wanted the same thing—to not only wrap up the show, but to have it do extremely well. We just had two different ways of approaching it.
“And this look”—she waved her hand in a circle while pointing it at me—“is a good look for you. Wear another dress tomorrow.”
I was certain I’d heard her wrong. “You want me to wear a dress to investigate cases?”
“Yes,” she said with a snappy attitude. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Actually, I do. A good PI blends in, and there’s no way I’ll blend in wearing dresses and flats. In case you hadn’t noticed, no one dresses like that around here, with the exception of the Hintons, and they don’t count because they aren’t from around here.”
“Well, maybe if you were a real investigator, that would be a concern, but everyone knows that there’s nothing real about reality TV. This is a good look for you, Summer, so you need to exploit it for as long as you can, because you don’t have anything else. You are a talentless former teen star who was only popular because of her looks and her fake clean persona.”
“Fake clean?”
“Stick to the point, Summer, and that is that you are a has-been, and we need to milk that well dry. And this look”—she waved her hand again—“is part of it. It’s your shtick. So wear a new dress tomorrow, and have a few on standby. We’ll let Karen tell you what to wear and when to wear it just like I’ll tell you what to say and when. Do you understand?”
I was so exhausted I could literally lay my head down on the desk and fall asleep, so I was proud of myself for pulling it together and looking her in the eye. I was stuck, and we both knew it. I should have just agreed and been done with it, but Lauren was a bully. The first time you backed down to a bully, you set a precedent. I’d learned that lesson again and again from my own mother, yet I had no idea how to put my foot down now.
“Do you understand?” she asked in a biting tone. “Do I need to remind you what the consequences of not following my direction could mean?” When I didn’t answer, she moved closer to my desk and sneered down at me. “Do you understand, Summer?”
I cast a quick glance to at Dixie, who was watching our interaction in horror. I had to keep Dixie out of this. Nevertheless, I didn’t even have the energy to work up anything more than a spark of outrage. “Yes.”
Triumph filled her eyes. “Good girl.” Then she spun around and headed to the back to talk to the film editors who had arrived the day before, during my staycation at the hospital.
I had to get out of here.
But a wave of dizziness hit me as soon as I got to my feet. Closing my eyes, I dropped my fingertips to the desktop to keep myself from falling over.
“Summer,” Dixie whispered next to me, “let’s go.”
I sucked in a deep breath and opened my eyes, horrified to see that everyone in the room was watching me with pity and concern.
I hated all of it.
Dixie reached for me, but I gently pushed her hand away. I needed to walk out of here on my own. Otherwise I’d never regain my dignity.
Grabbing my purse from the drawer, I concentrated on walking to the door. Once I got there, I’d make a new plan.
No one said anything as I left the office, but I heard them murmuring to each other as soon as I hit the sidewalk.
“Summer,” Dixie said quietly into my ear, “I know you’re tired, but Maybelline has something to tell us. She says it has something to do with Otto.”
“What?”
“She refused to tell me. She insisted she’ll only tell you in person. I promised we’d stop by after we got done filmin’, but you look like death warmed over. We should talk to her tomorrow.”
“When? Before our eight a.m. call time? She’ll be busy with the breakfast rush. We need to talk to her tonight.” I glanced behind us. “I thought Bill was supposed to be working with us.”
“He’s gonna meet us there. Apparently he needs to sit through some crew meeting before he can leave. Then he has to borrow a camera.”
“So it could be a while?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’m taking a nap in the truck.”
She grimaced.
“Dixie, I kid you not, I’m about to pass out right where I’m standing. I need to sleep.”
“Okay. But the truck?”
“I don’t know where else to go, so this will work in a pinch.” Actually, a more tempting option did come to mind: the sofa in Luke’s office. That, however, would be tempting fate on multiple levels. It was one thing to take me to steal that broom, but another thing entirely to endorse me investigating Otto’s death without him. The presence of Bill—and a camera—would doubly put him off. There was no way he’d condone it, and I didn’t want to think of a story to explain why I didn’t just go home.
Thankfully, my truck was parked in front of Maybelline’s diner, so Dixie went inside to wait while I settled in for a nap. I cracked the windows and then curled up on the seat, my head under the steering wheel. I was deep in a dreamless sleep when I woke up to Luke’s frantic voice—“Summer?”—and his fingertips on my neck.
I groaned, feeling like I was underwater and trying to find the surface.
“Summer.”
I pried my eyes open. “Luke. What are you doing here?”
“What am I doin’ here? What the hell are you doing passed out in your truck?”
“I needed a nap.”
“Why didn’t you just go home?”
God, sometimes I hated when I was right.
“Luke,” Dixie said in a breezy voice, opening the passenger door, “I see you found Summer.”
“What in the everlovin’ hell’s goin’ on here, Dixie? Why didn’t you take her home?”
“Because we’re gonna have a meeting with one of the cameramen at Maybelline’s. We’re waiting for him to show up, and Summer wanted to take a nap.”
“She needs to be home. In bed.”
“You could just take her home to yours,” Dixie said with a wink.
“Dixie!” I croaked out as I struggled to sit up.
Luke gently grabbed my arm and helped me to a sitting position. That was when I realized he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. It was the first time I’d seen him in street clothes since my return to Sweet Briar, and while he looked mighty fine in his uniform, he looked downright sinful in his light-blue T-shirt.
But he was oblivious to my perusal.
“Go home.” Then his eyes widened. “Jesus, you aren’t drivin’, are you?”
“No. Dixie is. And I can’t go home. Not yet.”
“Why are you meetin’ with a cameraman?”
“We’re workin’ on a plan to get even with Lauren,” Dixie said. “Bill’s gonna help us.”
Luke searched my face. “Don’t you think you have other things to worry about?”
I knew what he was referring to—I risked losing the money to help pay off the banknote. “In this instance, it all works toward the same purpose.” But I wasn’t so sure about that. Lauren didn’t want the show to be canceled, but she might very well murder us if she found out we were investigating behind her back.
“It’s not safe for you to be sleepin’ in your truck while it’s parked on the street, not to mention you scared the shit out of me. Again.”
“Sorry I scared you, but Sweet Briar’s one of the safest places on earth.” Then I remembered everything that was going on. “Usually.”
“That’s right. Usually. I’ve got two dead men, a mystery man, and a break-in at your house—and every single thing ties to you somehow. You need a damn bodyguard.”
“Are you volunteering?” Dixie asked sweetly.
“Dixie!” I protested, but Luke didn’t say a word. “I don’t need a doggone bodyguard. I’m fine.”
Luke still didn’t say anything.
“I have Teddy out at the farm,” I said. “And whenever I’m in town, I’m with someone almost every minute. I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t look convinced. “I’m headin’ into Maybelline’s now to grab some dinner. Why don’t you ladies join me while you wait for the cameraman?” He pinned his gaze on me. “And I know for a fact you hardly ate anything at lunch. Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy both of your dinners. Or if you want to sleep more, I’ll take you to my office.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Dixie said.
“Which one?” he asked.
She grinned. “Either.”
I groaned and pushed Dixie out of the way. “I hate you both,” I grumbled, but the words didn’t carry any heat. How was I supposed to explain any of this to Luke?
If Maybelline had information about the mystery man, he needed to know. And yet I couldn’t deny that I wanted to prove I could solve a real case. I wasn’t a real PI—I was only playing one for TV, just like I’d done before—but I couldn’t deny that I liked questioning people for real. I liked looking for clues. My gut told me I could be good at this, that for the first time in my life I could do something that helped people and made me feel good about myself. I wanted to really give investigating a chance.
Right or wrong, I wanted to dig into what had happened to Otto Olson, and the odds were five to one that Luke would do everything he could to put a stop to that.
But did I really want to withhold information from Luke?
Maybe I’d just play it by ear.
Dixie already had a table. She sat on one side of the booth, then gestured to the other. “I want to sit by Bill, so you two sit over there.”
While I was beginning to believe she really did like Bill, I didn’t buy that as her reason for making us sit together.
Luke motioned to the seat, and I slid in first, letting Luke play his alpha-male game. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t deny that part of me liked it.
The part of me that couldn’t be trusted.
His jeans-clad thigh brushed the bare skin of mine where my dress had hiked up, sending a wave of heat and lust through me.
I grabbed Dixie’s water and took a big gulp.
“Help yourself,” Dixie said with a laugh.
Luke lifted a hand and flagged down a pretty waitress who looked like she was still in high school. Her face lit up when she realized he was calling her.
“What can I do for you, Luke?” Her weight shifted to one side, and she batted her eyelashes, although I was positive it was all an involuntary reaction on her part.
“Hey, Rachel, can we get a couple of waters and a refill on this one.” He turned to us. “Do you need more time to order?”
“I know what I want,” Dixie said. “Shepherd’s pie and cornbread.”
I waved my hand. “Just bread. Nothin’ else sounds good.”
Luke gave me a questioning glance, then addressed the waitress, “Bring a meat-loaf plate and country-fried steak with green beans. And bring out some cornbread and Maybelline’s dinner rolls right away.”
“Sure thing, Luke,” she said. Her face flushed, and she practically ran into the kitchen.
“That girl has a thing for you,” I murmured, surprised that I was a tiny bit jealous.
“Rachel? She’s a kid,” he said as though that dismissed the whole thing. “I want to know why you ordered bread. I know you didn’t do it because you’re on a diet, otherwise you would have ordered a salad.”
“My stomach’s not right.”
“Are you still nauseated?”
“Off and on.”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You need to let your head heal, Summer. Remember when I got that concussion the fall of my senior year in the homecoming football game?”
I had been back in California at the time, filming Gotcha!, but the news had terrified me. “Yeah. How could I forget?”
“I spent the weekend sleeping, then missed several days of school. You’re pushing yourself too hard. If you don’t rest, it’s gonna take longer for you to heal.”
While he was undoubtedly right, my circumstances didn’t allow for such luxuries. “I’ll be fine.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.
Bill walked in the back door a few minutes after that, carrying his camera case, but when he saw Luke sitting next to me, he did a double take. Then he tried to hide the huge case behind his back.
“Summer,” Luke said in a dry tone, “why’s your cameraman bringin’ his camera to your meeting?”
Well, shit.