Coming Attractions (12 page)

Chapter
Eleven

They were roused in the early
evening by the front door knocker echoing through the house. Bed-headed and
barely dressed, Levi opened the door to Officer Brian Shepherd.

“Sorry to disturb you, Mr.
Callister.”

“Levi. What can I do for you, Brian?”

“Would you mind if I stepped inside
for a moment?”

“Of course, Brian,” said Cara,
sidling up behind Levi, having dressed hastily. “Come in out of the weather.”

If Brian noticed that her shirt was
buttoned incorrectly or that her cheeks were pink from whisker burn, he bit his
tongue.

The trio made their way to the back
kitchen, flipping on lights as they went. The weird twilight zone feelings of
familiarity and strangeness hadn’t dissipated for Cara. The house still bore hints
of her homespun childhood, especially this room at the back of the house—the
scratched refrigerator, the laminate flooring now scuffed and yellowing, the
wobbly stone doorstop, the curled Calvin and Hobbes calendar on the back of the
door. But so much had been changed, stripped, and repurposed that the place was
barely recognizable. It was like looking at the bones of an old friend.

While Levi made tea and coffee,
Cara opened a packet of chocolate cookies and, when Brian declined her offer,
she selected two for herself and munched away as Brian brought them up to date.

“Our best guess is that the road
across the isthmus will be passable some time tomorrow. You’ve got a crowd of
folks waiting to get over here, including one very demanding Ms. Selena Simms.
She even asked to come over in the launch with me tonight. I told her it was
too dangerous.” Brian leaned forward. “To be frank, Belle would have my guts
for garters if she found me in the middle of Ocean Ridge Bay with a beautiful movie
star. Besides, with those spidery eyelashes and nails like daggers, she scares
me a bit.”

Levi chuckled. “She can be a wild
one, all right.”

His tone was so indulgent, so
familiar, that Cara felt an unpleasant emotional prickle. She snagged another
cookie and ate it fast. “How’s it all going with Belle, Brian?” she asked
around a mouthful of crushed biscuit, hoping to get off the subject of the supposedly
wild Selena Simms.

“It’s touch-and-go. Fingers crossed
it will work itself out. Ever since she started working, she’s been different,
you know? It was okay while she was at art school. That was a couple of nights
a week and it seemed to make her happy. But once she started selling the pieces
she makes, she’s been…I dunno… Far away?”

“She makes art?” Cara asked.

“Jewelery. Beautiful rings and
necklaces with diamonds and rubies and lapis laz-something.”

“Lapis lazuli?” Levi offered.

“Yeah, that. She’s making decent
money. She’s even been invited to speak at a couple of important conferences.
To be honest, though I try, I don’t really know how to talk to her anymore.
Used to be we could just yack about the football or what was going on at the station.
Now I feel like I have to know about carats and hardness and settings… I just
can’t get my head around it all. Maybe she’s better off without me.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true!”
Cara argued.

“Well, I did show her a couple of
them Aphrodite movies you mentioned. Ppppssssshhhh! Are they hot or what? She
gobbled them up like caramel macaroons. And I can’t say I found ‘em hard on the
eyes either. They really set the mood, if you know what I mean. She might even
agree to another movie night date next weekend.”

“That’s great news, buddy,” Levi
said, clapping the police officer on the shoulder. “Any news on Cara’s ride?”

Surely one more biscuit couldn’t
hurt, Cara thought. She was ravenous. Levi chuckled as she shook another pair
of cookies from the packet and began to gnaw on them.

“There have been a couple of
unconfirmed sightings, but nothing we can get a bead on. I’m sorry, Cara.”

She felt a momentary rush of
sadness, closely followed by a twinge of guilt. Truth be told, she had only
given the bike a passing thought in the last few days. She had been too wrapped
up in arguing and—er…other things—with Levi.

“Finding the bike is a long shot, Brian.
Don’t beat yourself up,” she said.

“Anyway, I just wanted to come over
and make sure you folks were okay. I’d best head back to the mainland. Oh! And
one more thing,” Brian said. “Your sister sent this over.”

The officer handed Cara a green
envelope. This missive offered no frissons of warning.

“Thanks, Brian.”

“I’ll see you out,” said Levi, steering
the officer out of the room. “Oh, and Cara? Go easy on the cookies, huh? You’ll
spoil your dinner.”

How did he know she was reaching
for another cookie? The damn man had eyes in the back of his head. But he was
right, she was starting to feel a little ill from the sudden influx of sugar.

Pushing the packet half-heartedly
away, she turned her attention to the envelope, prising the flap open and
pulling out the card inside. It was a hand drawn card, an invitation, she realized.
Not from Mia, per se, but from Freya. “
Dear
Auntie Cara, you are invited to attend my 12
^th
birthday party…”

Cara’s initial reaction was
delight, closely followed by concern. Brian had said the message had come from
her sister, but did Mia know about the birthday invitation? Or had Freya
invited Cara to their home behind her mother’s back? Maybe, given recent
events, Cara would be unwanted, turned away at the door. She certainly didn’t
want to cause a scene on the little girl’s special day. Then again, she didn’t
want to break Freya’s heart by being a no-show.

Even if she could ease her way into
the party, once Mia found out about Alessandra’s lover and the sex scenes
likely to be woven through the screenplay, Cara figured she would be about as
welcome as dog poo.

Speaking of Alessandra’s lover,
Cara supposed she should confess her findings to the film’s sexy producer, so
they could put their differences behind them and… And then what? She really had
no idea. So, she did what any self-respecting woman would do under the
circumstances and reached for another cookie.

****

“Dinner” turned out to be a naughty
round of loving Levi in the back kitchen that left her breathless and a little
bumped and bruised. By midnight, he was strutting round like a buck-naked
peacock, juggling tomatoes and eggs, expertly ninja-spinning a butter knife,
singing silly songs about brushing your teeth all night and a rabbit called Foo
Foo, and generally playing the fool as he threw some sustenance together for
them.

With a full belly and an excess of
laughter, Cara looked sleepy and content. When Levi suggested they retire to
the bedroom, she grumbled.

“Don’t tell me I’ve worn you out,
Cara? Can’t hack the pace?”

“I neeeed sleeeeep…” she protested
as he waggled his eyebrows and ogled her.

“My poor baby,” he mocked, but
reached for her hand and led her toward the room they had left earlier to
answer the door. Faerie glades and harems were all very well in their ways, but
there was something about curling up with Cara with all the glitter and fantasy
stripped away that felt right.

He pulled her down and wrapped them
both in the lemony bedding, drawing her close into his embrace.

“As it happens, I need sleep, too,”
he assured her. “Need to recharge for the next round.”

She groaned again and snuggled up
against him, burrowing against his shoulder.

“We really need to talk,” she
murmured as her breathing slowed. “I found something…”

“Yes,” he replied sleepily. “I had
an idea that might help. We’ll talk in the morning, huh?”

“Okay. That would be great.”

But he barely heard her words and
she didn’t notice because, within seconds, curled together, they fell asleep.

****

Cara awoke to glaring sunlight,
loud voices, roaring vehicles, and screaming power tools. The road was clear,
she thought as she reached for Levi and found the bed empty. She had a feeling
his absence didn’t bode well. Groggily, she made her way to the en suite
shower.

Once she was dressed, she followed
the scent of bacon and coffee to the back kitchen. The small room was jammed
with people jostling for position around the stove, fridge, sink, and bench
tops. Through the back door, propped open with an old rock, she noticed a
trestle table had been set up with an urn and crockery. She recognized the mint
linen tablecloth as one of her mother’s. A stout, gray-haired woman carried
loaves of bread and trays of food outside where people could help themselves.
It seemed that no sooner had a platter been placed on the table than a flock of
workers descended on it like seagulls and cleared it.

Nobody noticed Cara as she squeezed
through the congested kitchen, and nobody protested when she helped herself to
a cup of tea and a sampling from the latest tray of food. Laborers paused to
wish her a good morning as she stood by the table munching on an egg and bacon
muffin. Eating in the sunshine felt decadent after the last few days cooped up
inside, though she couldn’t sit down as every log, rock, wall, and bench was
still soaked from the rain.

Once she’d finished her breakfast,
she circled the house in search of Levi. She heard him before she saw him, his
voice coiling around the side of the house from the veranda. At first, she
grinned, happy to hear him, but something in his tone made her pause and
listen.

“…so, I figure Alessanda’s fortune ought
to be somewhere on the property,” she heard him say.

Ice spiked through her heart. Why
was he talking about her mother’s legacy? Hadn’t the two of them agreed it was
likely nowhere to be found? And with whom was he discussing the missing
millions?

Her mental question was answered
almost immediately in the form of a breathy trademark laugh that had become
famous over the last few years thanks to its big screen exposure.

“And if It’s on the property, Levi,
darling, it’s yours to do with what you will,” Selena Simms replied. “Give me
another hug, gorgeous man. Your cleverness is surpassed only by your
devastatingly good looks.”

The laugh came again and, when Levi
voiced his answering mirth, Cara thought she might puke up her breakfast.

How dare he act as though
Alessandra’s fortune was somehow his for the taking? Of course, technically, he
had bought the house and its contents, so
legally
he would be entitled to it if he found it. But surely the days and nights
they had recently shared counted for something. She had opened up her heart and
told him her secrets—well, some of them anyway. She had poured out how
abandoned she felt by her mother. She thought he would have taken her feelings
into account when it came to the missing fortune. Certainly, he must realize
that discovering the money actually did exist, that her late mother had
actually left her the promised legacy with which to carry on, would mean the
world to Cara.

The inheritance was a symbol of her
mother’s love for her in the same way that the secret letter was a symbol of
how little she knew about Alessandra.

And maybe, just maybe, if they
managed to make the film and it really was close to the truth—lover and all—she
really might be afforded some crucial insight about her mother when she watched
it. Though, given this ugly new view into Levi’s avarice, she didn’t think
there’d be a whole lot of holding hands in the dark theatre.

Perhaps, though, he thought Cara
simply knowing about the money would be enough. Perhaps he figured she could
feel reassured by the knowledge that her mother had provided for her, while he rubbed
his hands together and spent the fortune as he saw fit. After all, he had been
upfront about needing money. Maybe she had been naïve not to realize he was
after her birthright. Telling her he was money-hungry was a pretty big clue, and
she had let it slide on by as though it was a trifle.
Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Levi had convinced Cara that his
need for money was somehow honorable, that, when it came to the film, they
could find a balance between box office smash and artistic veracity, that they
could make ends meet while keeping the truth intact. But clearly, his motivation
was baser than that. Being in the dark about the revelation in the letter about
Alessandra’s lover, he obviously felt he wasn’t making any progress on the film
front, so he’d apparently decided to circumvent it altogether. He wanted money
any way he could get it, even if it meant stealing her inheritance.

Selena’s voice interrupted Cara’s
thinking.

“I’ve missed you dreadfully, Levi,
darling. Let’s have that working lunch you mentioned and then spend the
afternoon”—her voice dropped suggestively—“getting reacquainted. I’ll make you
sweat.”

The montage crossing Cara’s mind
was all trailing talons, eyelash veils, and moistened lips. Cara wished she had
a large trout to slap the vulgar vixen round the head with. “Reacquainted”
could only mean one thing, especially in that tone of voice, and Cara bristled
at the thought of Levi “reacquainting” himself with the bombshell movie star.
But what had she expected? Who was she to compete with the internationally
revered actress?