Dying to Have Her (13 page)

“Really?” he queried, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, you needn’t worry. I wasn’t asking to get into bed with you.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you were.”

“Are you afraid I’m going to interrupt something?” he demanded. His eyes narrowed. “Have you asked the Hispanic types over already?”

“You asshole,” she spat at him.

“All right. Sorry, that was uncalled for,” he said softly. “But I want the rose.”

His hand wound around her wrist. The very simple touch of his fingers on her seemed like fire. She was going to start shaking and beg him to get away from her.

“Let go, please.”

He did so instantly. She meant to step back, to behave, but the crack he had made still hurt. “Don’t touch me again.” She hauled off and slapped him.

She stepped back quickly, horrified by what she had done. “Sorry—really. That was uncalled for,” she told him.

The bronze of his cheek was turning white, and the imprints of her fingers were very visible. She held her breath, praying that he didn’t come back at her.

“Serena, I will definitely follow that order.” The cold tone of his voice seemed far worse than a physical comeback. “Conar wants to go to dinner. If you really can’t handle it, go home. I’ll be in a car outside.”

“I said I’m sorry. I can handle dinner.”

“All right. You call the shots. All of them. I’ll do my best to oblige.”

He stepped out of the dressing room. Shaking and disconcerted, Serena nearly ripped her costume, Verona Valentine’s smock, pulling it over her head.

She saw something on the floor. The rose. She had dropped it; he had forgotten it. Clutching the cotton garment to her breasts, she bent to retrieve it just as the door opened again.

Liam. Startled this time as he looked at her. “Sorry, I just—the rose.”

She straightened. They stared at one another. Her lips were painfully dry; she couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted to.

Black eyes hard and fathomless, he took the rose. “Lock yourself in,” he told her. “I’ll be back for you in about fifteen minutes.” He started to depart but turned, speaking again. “Don’t open your door until you hear me.”

“Liam, really—”

“Do it!”

Liam returned to the set, bearing the rose. Bill was standing in the center of the studio, while lab techs dusted the ladder for prints.

Liam approached Bill with the rose. “This was in Serena’s dressing room. Apparently no one knows where it came from.”

“From Serena’s dressing room?” Bill pulled an evidence bag from the pocket of his jacket. “Sure. Thanks,” he said gravely.

“It’s probably nothing,” Liam said, “but …”

“Hey, we have to follow up on all angles,” Bill agreed.

“Thanks,” Liam said.

He returned to the elevators, rising to the dressing room level. He glanced at his watch. He still had a few minutes. He followed the stars on the doors, finding the wooden astral design with the name Jay Braden. He tapped on the door, wondering if the actor would still be in.

“Yo!” Jay called. In another moment, he opened the door. Seeing Liam, his features tightened.

“Come in,” he said with a shrug, opening the door farther for Liam to enter.

The dressing rooms were a lot alike. Dressing tables with bright lighting. Sofas for relaxing. Small refrigerators for the actors to bring in their own food and drink. The coffee table in front of Jay’s sofa was piled with magazines.

He took a seat on the sofa. “You heard about the ladder?”

“Yep,” Jay said, pulling out the chair at his dressing table.

“Mind telling me what you did after the meeting?”

“I came back here. Ask Doug—he brought in a script change for me.”

“You watched some of the taping today.”

“I did. I came out to watch for a while. Why are you asking?”

“A ladder—just fell.”

“Oh. So you think someone pushed over the ladder?”

“Yeah,” Liam said.

“I was nowhere near the ladder,” Jay said.

“You know a lot about stagecraft and lighting.”

“I’ve never denied it.”

“What about your relationship with Jane Dunne?”

“I hated her guts,” Jay said cheerfully. He leaned closer to Liam suddenly. “But I think the world of Serena. You can ask anyone. You will, of course, right?”

Liam nodded. “What about Jeff?” he asked.

“Jeffrey Guelph?” Jay asked. Liam thought he looked a little uneasy.

“Yeah.”

“I like him okay. He’s not really one of us. But the advice he’s given has been helpful. I guess.”

“What about Jeff and Jane Dunne?”

Jay shrugged. “I can’t tell you anything about that.”

He was lying, Liam thought. Or being evasive. Had something happened between the two of them?

“You need to ask Jeff about his life,” Jay suggested, unnerved by Liam’s silence.

“Yep, thanks, I should.”

“You’re worried about Serena, right?”

“That appears to be a sensible concern,” Liam said.

“I guess. She was there when Jane … and then, now, the ladder …”

“Who do you think might dislike Serena?”

“No one,” Jay said flatly. “Except maybe some deranged fan. But a deranged fan couldn’t be on the set.” He was quiet for a minute, thinking. “Everyone disliked Jane. Maybe the ladder did just fall.”

“Maybe.” Liam stood and walked toward the door.

“Hey, Liam,” Jay said softly.

Liam paused.

“I did sleep with her.”

Liam turned, frowning, wondering at the tension in his grip on the door. “Pardon?”

“Jane Dunne. She was very friendly when she first got here. It wasn’t an affair. Just a few quickies. She just liked to prove she could suck people in and men … well, then spit them back out, I guess.”

“Thanks for the information.”

“You’ll be asking for more, right?”

“Yep.”

“I’m telling you, Serena has no enemies. Not in the cast. Of course she was married to Andy … but Andy wants to remarry her—not kill her. He thinks it would be great if their characters remarried to coincide with a real remarriage. Now, there’s a soap plot for you.”

“Think Serena would agree to it?” Liam asked.

Jay laughed, honestly amused. “Not in this lifetime!”

Liam smiled tightly and left.

Gut feeling, no proof. The lighting guys were innocent, though. They were truly horrified by what had happened.

Was it someone obvious, or something he was missing entirely?

He had a feeling they’d only begun to scratch the surface.

A
TAP CAME ON
S
ERENA’S
door almost fifteen minutes to the second after Liam had left her.

“Serena?”

At the sound of his voice, she turned to exit her dressing room quickly, having changed to her street clothing and scrubbed away all stage makeup.

“Are the sunglasses really necessary?” Liam asked when she emerged out into the hallway.

She inched the glasses down her nose, staring at him over the rims. “We’re going out to eat. I’d just as soon do so privately.”

“Do people fall all over you every time you go somewhere?” he queried.

She counted to five, still staring at him. “No, they don’t. But I know how irritated you become every time a soap fan does come up.”

“No, I don’t find that irritating,” he replied, definitely irritated.

“Look, this is insane if we’re going to fight through the meal—”

“I wasn’t fighting; I was asking.”

“In a very negative tone of voice.”

“Sorry. I just find sunglasses ridiculous inside.”

“Then you shouldn’t wear them inside.”

“Let’s forget this. We’ll get Conar and go.”

There was a crowd at the restaurant, but no one approached them as they met Jennifer, who kissed Conar and told him that the baby was happy with Abby, her mother, and then told them that the host inside had assured her he would seat them as soon as her whole party arrived. She was anxious about the ladder, another accident on the set. They made light of it in front of Jennifer.

The young man was true to his word, seating them quickly at a back booth. There was low lighting in the room.

“You’ll trip with those shades,” Liam told Serena as she groped for the back of the booth while entering. She cast him an evil glare. Once seated, she removed her glasses.

Within a few minutes, they’d made a choice from the wine list. Serena had moved over so far she was practically hugging the wall. She was certain that Liam was aware of her discomfort. She studied the menu while he and Conar talked about a dive trip a group of friends had planned for the next month.

“I’ve decided to go too,” Jennifer told Liam, “but I don’t dive. I know that Conar really hopes you’ll go. We’re going down to Baja.”

“You’re going on a dive trip?” Serena said to Jennifer. “What about the baby?”

“Well, he is nursing. Where I go, he goes.”

“Brent MacVie just bought a real beauty of a boat; it sleeps eight with four separate cabins. Brent isn’t seeing anyone at the moment, so he’s offered us the master’s cabin. Plenty of room for the three of us,” Conar assured Liam. “You can have the aft cabin, bring Sharon if you want, and he and Dave Marshall will take the two side cabins.”

“Sounds good. I’d like to go. If time allows.”

“You should definitely go,” Serena told him. She hated herself for the jealousy she felt. Sharon. Blond hole-digging degree-laden bimbo.

Their wine had arrived; Liam sipped his. “If time allows,” he repeated.

“Time will allow,” she assured him pleasantly. “This is your only case at the moment, I take it, since you’re trailing me like toilet paper glued to a shoe.”

“Oh, look at this, will you?” Jennifer said. “They have a great-looking mushroom soufflé.”

Serena didn’t think Jennifer was particularly fond of mushrooms. She cleared her throat and looked over at Liam. “Seriously, if you’re looking forward to a dive trip, you should plan on going. I can promise you I’ll hang around with Bill Hutchens while you’re gone.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, looking across the table again. “You know, you have the most stubborn producers in town. You’d think they’d be willing to make serious changes to the plot line. All that stuff about ‘dead by Valentine’s Day.’ It’s not just bad taste—it may be dangerous.”

Conar agreed. “I’ve talked to both Joe and Andy on a daily basis. They keep pointing out the fact that the ‘bible,’ or plan for the season, has included this suspense angle all along. There have been accidents on other sets; and most of the time the show or the movie has still been made.”

Right then Serena was nearly blinded as a flash went off. At first she was simply stunned and couldn’t see. Then she realized that, of course, it was a photographer.

If she had ever wanted to have a tantrum in her life, it was then. She wanted to leap up and sock the stringy-haired busybody in the jaw. Of course, she didn’t.

Leave it to Liam. He almost lunged from the table. Conar, opposite him, half stood quickly, placing a restraining hand on his shoulder. Liam seemed to accept instantly that he couldn’t deck the guy—or break the camera, which seemed to be his desire as well.

“Thanks, Miss McCormack. He’s a good-looking hunk,” the young man said, indicating Liam.

The restaurant’s smooth host was rapidly moving toward their table. “There’s no harassing folks who are peacefully eating in a restaurant, buddy. Come on, move along.”

“Sure,” the photographer told him. “I got what I need. Come on, Dara.”

Serena saw with dismay that he hadn’t been alone. A slim girl with a notepad went hurrying out after him.

“I’m so sorry for the disturbance,” the host told them.

“It’s all right,” Conar told him.

The host smiled and excused himself.

“That’s going to be all over the papers tomorrow,” Serena said.

“Well, hey, that’s what happens when you’re a star, eh?” Liam muttered, his tone annoyed.

He had once made a big deal out of pictures of her that had appeared in papers. Now he would find out what freedom of the press meant. He’d be the one she was supposedly madly in love with.

“Maybe the photo won’t come out,” Jennifer suggested cheerfully.

Liam apparently shook off his tension and spoke to Jennifer. “How’s your mom doing?”

Jennifer plunged in quickly, telling them that Abby was doing great. From there they went on talking casually until the food came.

When it was time to leave, Serena remembered that her car was at the studio. Liam told her to forget it; he’d just drive her in the next morning. Almost immediately, Jennifer and Conar departed in Jennifer’s car, and she was ashamed to realize that they were getting away before she could persist in an argument.

“You’re going to drive me home, watch me lock up, and come back in the morning?” she asked.

“Something like that.”

“You’re going to sleep in your car,” she accused him.

“It’s where I’ve been sleeping.”

The valet arrived with his car; Liam tipped the man, who then ushered Serena in. As they started down the street, she turned on him. “Just how long have you been following me around?”

He was quiet so long she thought that he hadn’t heard. “Just how—”

“Since the night Jane Dunne died,” he said.

She sucked in a breath. “Since she died?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been spying on me all that time?”

“I’ve been tracking your movements.”

“You were spying on me.”

She was startled when he suddenly swerved the car off the road. He twisted in the seat to face her. “No, I haven’t been
spying
on you. I was hired to make sure you didn’t go the same way as Jane Dunne. It’s a job, Serena, one I’ve been hired to do, and whether you like it or not, I’m going to do it. So go ahead, let’s have it out now.”

She stared at him for several seconds, furious. “What did you discover, spying on my house? Have you been peeping in my windows, too?”

“No.”

“And why would I believe that?”

“Why would I want to peep in your windows? I know everything in that house—including you—inside and out.”

“Did Joe say you should spy on me?”

“Dammit, I’m not spying on you.”