Saul had dropped Angela off at makeup and was grazing at the breakfast bar when Andy approached. “Saul, that Charlie guy wants to see you.”

 

“What does he want?”

 

“He wants to give you something to give to Angela.”

 

Saul sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for this, not after last night. “Shit. Okay. Where is he?” Andy led him to the barricades where Charlie was waiting. “What do you want?”

 

Saul and Andy both stiffened as Charlie opened a backpack, then relaxed when he pulled the Oscar replica from the bag. He handed it to Saul then reached in again and came out with a book and a pen. “Would you give that to Angela for me? I had it repaired,” he asked with a nod at the statue. “And if she doesn’t mind, would she sign my book?”

 

He thought about it a moment. “Give them here,” he said holding his hand out. “I can’t promise anything but I’ll ask her. What was your last name again?”

 

Charlie grinned. “Harton. Charlie Harton. I run allaboutourangel.com, a website devoted to her.”

 

“What was the statue about again?”

 

“I thought she should have won an Oscar for her performance in Fallen Petals. I’m not the only one. A lot of people said it was a scam she wasn’t even nominated and—”

 

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Saul said, cutting him off so he didn’t have to listen to the whole story. “If I do this for you, you’ll continue to mind your manners and do what you’re told?”

 

“Yes! Thank you!”

 

Saul grunted and turned away. He simply couldn’t understand why anyone would be interested in someone’s autograph, but if kept Charlie from being a pain in the ass, he could ask the question.

 

As he walked away, he noticed Bradley shaking hands and signing autographs. He grinned as a couple of women swooned over him and how Bradley seemed to be lapping it up. He shook his head. Bradley seemed to live for that stuff.

 

He was waiting for her when she stepped out of Wardrobe. “Your biggest fan wanted you to have this,” he said holding up the figurine. “Something to do with you not getting an Oscar nomination for Fallen Petals. What would you like me to do with it?”

 

Angela grinned. “That’s sweet. He’s the guy who snuck onto the set and you tackled, right? Can you hang on to it until you take me back to my room tonight? It may be the only Oscar I ever get.”

 

“Okay. I’ll go put it in the bike later. He also asked if you wouldn’t mind signing his book.”

 

She sighed. “I guess that’s the least I can do after the gun fiasco.” She took his book and flipped to an empty page. “Do you know his name?

 

“Charlie Harton. He said he runs a website called allaboutpoppy.com.”

 

She snorted. “I know it. At least his site isn’t creepy.” She paused then scribbled a quarter page note and signed it. “That should make him happy,” she said as she snapped the book closed on the pen. She paused, then gave her head a jerk. He followed her to a where there was a large folder with publicity stills. She pulled out three different photos of her in her police uniform and signed them with a thick marker before handing them to Saul.

 

“He’s going to have an orgasm,” Saul chuckled as he took the photos.

 

She giggled. “Then he can’t say I never gave him anything.”

 

He grinned and gave her a quick kiss. “You’re a very naughty girl.”

 

“And you love it.”

 

He chuckled again then leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “Especially at night, on the beach.”

 

She grinned and shooed him away with her hands. “I have work to do. Go.”

 

He grinned as he walked away. Bradley had almost reached Charlie so he quickened his pace to get there before him. “Here you go,” Saul said, handing him the book. “She also sent these,” he added as he handed over the stills. “She asked me to put the Oscar in the bike so she could take it back to the room with her. I think you’ve gotten all you’re going to get out of her, so don’t bother asking for anything else.”

 

“No! This is great! Thank you so very much! Tell her how much I appreciate her signing my book and the photos! They’re great!”

 

Saul gave him a curt nod, then stepped past, taking the statuette to his bike so he didn’t have to hold the damn thing all day. He was about fifty feet from the crowd when he heard Bradley cry out.

 

“Gun!”

 

Saul turned and ran back as the crowd surged back from the commotion. Bradley was on Charlie, wrestling with him, before he popped up with a small revolver in his hand. “Stay down!” Bradley ordered before he pointed the weapon at the sky and quickly ejected the shells.

 

“That’s not mine! I didn’t do anything!” Charlie cried, still on the ground, his hands up in a warding off gesture.

 

Saul hauled Charlie to his feet as three Pagans converged on the run. “Are you licensed to carry?”

 

“No! It’s not mine!” Charlie yelled, becoming increasingly agitated.

 

“Where did you see it?” Saul asked, looking at Bradley.

 

“It was under his shirt, right here,” he replied, tucking the gun in the front of his pants. “I saw the bulge and you walked right past him. Good thing I was here.”

 

“It’s not mine! I swear! I told you before: I don’t like guns! I don’t even own a gun!”

 

“Call the cops,” Saul ordered Kyle.

 

“I didn’t do anything!” Charlie screamed, struggling to get out of Saul’s grasp. “I just wanted Angela’s autograph! I wouldn’t hurt her! I didn’t do anything!”

 

“Tell it to the cops,” Saul said dragging him away from the rest of the crowd. The whole thing didn’t feel right, but if he let him go, he’d be talking to the cops.

 

***

 

“Is it true?” Angela asked an hour later as everything began to settle down.

 

“I don’t know. Something isn’t right,” Saul replied.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean I think Bradley set the poor sap up.”

 

“Why?”

 

“That’s what I don’t know. What I do know is Bradley is lying about the gun.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Absolutely. If he’d said he pulled it from his back, or out of his backpack, or something like that, I might have bought it. But wearing it in the front like he said? No fucking way. A fat as he’s, he would have printed like a bitch, and there is no way I would have missed it.”

 

“Printed?”

 

“Having the outline of a gun on your clothes.”

 

Angela stared at him. “Why would he lie?”

 

“You tell me.”

 

“Did you tell the cops?”

 

“No. Bradley was standing right there telling the cop what happened and I didn’t want to give him a chance to change his story, but I’m going to slip away and go have a chat with the police about it. It pisses me off that Charlie could pull a two year stretch for illegal carry if he really wasn’t.”

 

Angela stared at him. “You really care, don’t you?”

 

“Don’t you? How would you like to go to jail for something you didn’t do?”

 

“I wouldn’t.”

 

“Wouldn’t you like someone to step forward in your defense?”

 

She nodded. “Yes.” She looked into his eyes and saw the anger and determination there. “You’re nothing like I imagined a biker would be.”

 

“Why? Because I don’t want to see someone railroaded? Just because I ride a bike doesn’t mean I’m willing to stand around and watch an innocent man go to jail.”

 

“That’s not what I meant!”

 

“What did you mean, then?”

 

“Nothing. Just drop it.”

 

“No, you brought it up. What did you mean?”

 

“Nothing! It’s that you’re not what I thought a biker would be like. None of the Pagans are.”

 

“Nothing like you see in the movies, you mean?”

 

She looked down and scuffed her toe. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

“And that surprises you?”

 

“No! Well, maybe a little. I don’t know! You’re the first biker I’ve ever met!”

 

He grunted. “Maybe next time you shouldn’t assume everyone is like they’re portrayed in your fairytale world.” He pivoted on his toe and began to walk away.

 

“Saul! Wait!” she called, running two steps and taking his arm. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m just not used to people actually…caring, I guess…about anyone other than themselves.”

 

“Not everyone wants something from you, Angela. I would the same for you, but that doesn’t mean I want something from you. This isn’t Hollywood; this is Texas. Maybe we do things differently here.”

 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t have any honor or sense of justice, or whatever. I just assumed if the cops arrested him, he must be guilty.”

 

He snorted. “Then you have a lot to learn about cops. They’re people, too. If some big movie star action hero says he took a gun off some guy, even if the guy denies it, who do you think the cops are going to believe? Especially if the guy has been a problem before.”

 

She looked at him, her opinion of him going up another notch. “What are you going to do?”

 

“Give the cops something else to think about.”

 

***

 

“I’d like to see Charlie, Charles I assume, Harton. He was picked up a few hours ago at the film location for having a gun.”

 

The officer tapped away on a keyboard. “He’s still in processing. I assume you’re not a lawyer. You a relative?”

 

“No. But I was there. I want to ask him a few questions.”

 

The cop behind the desk looked at him. “Sorry.”

 

“Who can I speak to, then?”

 

“You want to make a statement?”

 

“No, not really. I would just like to talk to someone about his arrest.”

 

The cop looked at his screen. “The arresting officer was Nevell.”

 

“Can I speak to him?”

 

The officer gazed at him a moment then tapped on his computer. “I’ve sent him a message. You can wait over there.”

 

***

 

“I’m Officer Nevell,” the tall, broad shouldered, cop said. Saul remembered seeing him stuff Charlie into a squad car and talking to Bradley.

 

“Can I speak to you a few minutes about Charlie Harton?”

 

“Yeah. Come on back. Can I get you something to drink?”

 

“I’m good.”

 

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

 

“Charlie. I know what Bradley Hoffman told you happened, but I’m skeptical.”

 

“Why?”

 

“The Pagans are in charge of security for the production crew. I’d just talked to him not two minutes before Bradley said he had a gun. He didn’t have a gun when I spoke to him. Not where Bradley said he saw it anyway.”

 

“You’re sure?”

 

“Very.”

 

Officer Nevell looked at Saul. “Why would Mr. Hoffman make up something like that?”

 

“Who knows why those fruits and nuts in California do any of the things they do. But I’m telling you, he didn’t have a gun in the front of his pants when I spoke to him. I would have seen it.”

 

“I didn’t get your name.”

 

“Houston. Saul Houston.”

 

“Mr. Houston, I have a sworn statement by Mr. Hoffman that states he saw the gun under Charlie Harton’s shirt. He has no valid CCW permit and that’s a—”

 

“I understand what you’re saying, Officer Nevell. What I’m saying is, I think Bradley made the whole thing up.”

 

“But you don’t know why?”

 

“I have an idea, but I can’t prove it.”

 

“Care to share it with me?”

 

“The one thing I’ve learned from working security on this production is some of the cast, Bradley in particular, are very concerned with their image. Maybe he’s trying to pump himself up.”

 

Nevell looked at Saul a moment. “That’s a pretty flimsy reason.”

 

“I agree, but you don’t know how serious these people take these sorts of things. I don’t want to see an innocent man go to jail over something like this.”

 

“What’s your stake in this?”

 

“Nothing, except I know how I would feel if I were being falsely accused. Can’t you check the gun for prints or something?”

 

“No reason to. We have an eyewitness, and several others who corroborate they saw Mr. Hoffman take the weapon from Mr. Harton.”

 

“I was right there and saw what they saw, and I didn’t see that. I saw Bradley stand up and say he took the gun from Charlie. Who is the gun registered to?”

 

Nevell grimaced. “The serial number has been removed.”

 

“You saw the guy. Someone who knows enough about weapons to remove the serial number wore the weapon, with no holster, in the one place where it would be obvious?”

 

“If criminals were smart, we wouldn’t catch most of them,” Nevell said.

 

Saul stood and extended his hand. “Thank you, Officer. I know you’ll do the right thing.”

 

***

 

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come back for me,” Angela said as production wrapped for the day.

 

“Why?”

 

“You know why.”

 

Saul watched her a moment then softened. “Don’t worry about it. You’re no different than anyone else and I have been dealing with this my entire adult life.” He looked around but nobody was within earshot. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s obviously more than a troubled production. I think Bradley is behind most of what has happened.”

 

“Really?” Angela asked, her eyes going wide.

 

“Think about it. He was nowhere around then just happened to find the gun. Johnny was looking for him just before the gas line problem. Now this? Once is an accident, twice is a coincident, but three times is enemy action.”

 

“The car wreck?”

 

“Probably not. But how handy to divert attention away from him. Never let a good crisis go to waste.”

 

“But why?”

 

“You said yourself: his career is bombing. Can you think of a better way to get back in the spotlight than catching a guy intending to shoot the star?”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “After the wreck, while you were working on Tony, he was all huggy. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but last night he invited me to dinner then tried to bed me. He said we needed to get comfortable for our love scene coming up. He also denied telling you he was trying to create buzz around a shomance. He said you were a liar.”

 

His face hardened. “What do you think?”

 

“I can’t see you using the word ‘shomance’ unless you heard it somewhere else.”

 

“I think Bradley is working some scheme.”

 

“I’m starting to think so, too,” Angela agreed. “How do you prove it?”

 

“I can’t. There’s no proof he’s done anything.”

 

“See what I mean? This is the kind of shit that goes on all the time. I hate it!”

 

“Want to go for a ride? Riding helps me clear my head.”

 

She smiled. “God yes!”