24
PETER BARRINGTON REGARDED the woman who sat across the desk from him. She was bright, sounded willing, had a good résumé, and was quite attractive. Billy, he thought, had very good judgment. “Sally, the job pays fifteen hundred a week to start—that’s seventy-eight thousand. Is that satisfactory?”
It was a third more than Sally had ever made in a year. “It is,” she replied.
“Can you start Monday?”
“Yes, I can.”
“Good,” Peter said. “Your predecessor is at a doctor’s appointment right now, but she’ll be here for your first week—two, if you need it—to get you up to speed.” He stood up and offered her his hand. “Welcome aboard,” he said.
She shook his hand and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Barrington.”
“I’m Peter to everybody around here,” he said.
“Peter, it is.”
“See you Monday morning.” Sally left, and Peter turned to his schedule on one of his computer screens. He was meeting his father at the studio commissary for lunch in half an hour, and he was bringing a woman.
• • •
SALLY SAT IN HER CAR and phoned Teddy.
“Did you get it?” he asked, without saying hello.
“I got it. I start Monday.”
“That’s wonderful!”
“You don’t think it will be odd for us to be working in the same office?” she asked.
“Certainly not. You’ll hardly ever see me, anyway. I spend more than half my time on sound stages or locations.”
“I’ll be home in half an hour. Buy me lunch?”
“I’ll make you lunch,” he said. “And you’re dessert.”
“Promises, promises.”
• • •
PETER PARKED HIS GOLF CART in a reserved spot outside the commissary and walked in to find his father and a very attractive woman at a table with his partner and the studio’s head of production, Ben Bacchetti. He took a seat. “Are you joining us, Ben?”
“No, I’ve got a lunch date. I just wanted to say hello to your dad and ask about my dad.”
“Your dad is as ever,” Stone said.
Ben stood. “It’s good to see you, Stone, and to meet you, Ana.”
“I haven’t met Ana,” Peter said, as Ben departed. He shook her hand.
“You didn’t tell me he was so handsome,” Ana said to Stone.
“Is he?” Stone asked. “Ana is in Santa Fe real estate,” he said to Peter. “She has to flatter everybody.”
Ana’s phone rang, and she stood. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.” She walked away from the table.
“Dad,” Peter said, “before Ana returns, I’ve been hearing rumors about some sort of incident at Dax Baxter’s house in Santa Fe, something involving Billy. Do you know anything about that?”
“I do,” Stone said. “I spent a few days with Ed and Susannah Eagle, and I saw Billy there at dinner. What do you know about Dax Baxter?”
“Able producer, miserable excuse for a human being, from all I’ve heard.”
“Apparently he’s also a paranoiac,” Stone said.
“Only one of his charms,” Peter replied.
“Somehow he got the idea that Billy had been sent by some enemy of his to kill him, and he promptly sent for a pro out of L.A. to eliminate his problem.”
“That’s insane. How does Baxter even know Billy?”
“Billy took a temporary job on a Baxter shoot at a movie ranch in Santa Fe. Didn’t use his own name. Billy and his girl went to a wrap party at Baxter’s new place there, and the pro, a Russian, came after him with a knife outside the house. The Russian got the worst of it. Billy put him in the hospital.”
“Have there been any legal ramifications?”
“No. Baxter wasn’t about to call the police.”
“Billy’s back in town, now, and I’ve just hired his new girlfriend, Sally Ryder, as one of my production assistants. I’m glad he’s met somebody. I think he was in a pretty bad way after Betsy’s death.”
“How could you tell? The man has the most consistently calm mien of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I agree,” Peter said. “He can be hard to read, but there was this sadness evident in him. Is this thing over with Baxter?”
“I don’t know, and from what I’ve heard about Baxter, he may not know either.”
“He has a reputation around town for being mercurial, to put it politely. I’m told he has to pay higher than usual salaries to get crew to work for him, and even then, there’s a lot of turnover among his people. He’d probably be in jail or a padded room somewhere if he didn’t make so much money for his studio.”
“Keep an ear to the ground, and let me know what’s going on with Billy, will you?” Stone asked.
Ana returned to the table. “Sorry about that. There was a problem with a closing in Santa Fe, but I got it sorted out.”
“Funny I should meet you,” Peter said. “My wife, Hattie, and I have been talking about getting a place for weekends and vacations, and Santa Fe keeps coming up.”
“What a delightful son you have, Stone,” she said, producing a business card out of thin air and handing it to Peter. “Do give me a call if you’d like to come out for a weekend and look around. I’ll put you and your wife up in my guesthouse.”
“Perhaps we’ll do that,” Peter replied, tucking the card away.
“Hooked,” Stone said.
Ana laughed. “Your father managed to sell his Santa Fe house without an agent,” Ana said, “which is against God’s law. What sort of place did you have in mind, Peter? Acreage? Horses? Sunset views?”
“Well, Hattie and I used to ride, but not much lately. It might be fun to keep horses.”
“Now you’re talking about staff, Peter,” Stone said. “Careful.”
“Not much staff,” Ana said. “All you need is a groom, who can double as a caretaker, and the phone number of a good vet. I can get you both—all part of the service. Do you have any kids?”
“Not yet,” Peter said. “Neither of us seems much inclined that way.”
“Fewer bedrooms, then,” Ana replied.
For most of the rest of their lunch the two of them talked houses, while Stone looked on, amazed.