Deadline (13 page)
Authors: Fern Michaels
A cell phone ring tone that Abby did not recognize sent her mother scurrying up the stairs. Toots called, “I'll be right back,” as she raced up the staircase.
Abby raised her shoulders as if saying she hadn't a clue. Goebel nodded and sipped his coffee.
Upstairs, Toots searched for what she thought of as her “secure line”âa cell phone she'd purchased when she bought
The Informer.
For use only in the case of an emergency, she'd written in one of her LAT Enterprise e-mails. Abby and Chris were the only two humans on the planet who had the number, and one of them was sitting at her kitchen table, so that left Chris. The phone rang several times before she located it in her nightstand. She clicked the TALK button. “Hello? Chris? Is that you? Where are you?” She pulled the phone away from her ear, making sure there was still a connection. When she saw that the phone was dead, she gave herself a mental kick in the ass. The damned phone wasn't charged!
How could I be so stupid? A phone for emergencies that isn't even usable.
The Informer.
For use only in the case of an emergency, she'd written in one of her LAT Enterprise e-mails. Abby and Chris were the only two humans on the planet who had the number, and one of them was sitting at her kitchen table, so that left Chris. The phone rang several times before she located it in her nightstand. She clicked the TALK button. “Hello? Chris? Is that you? Where are you?” She pulled the phone away from her ear, making sure there was still a connection. When she saw that the phone was dead, she gave herself a mental kick in the ass. The damned phone wasn't charged!
How could I be so stupid? A phone for emergencies that isn't even usable.
Picking up the house phone, she quickly punched in Chris's cell-phone number. She was sure this was a good sign. The phone rang once, twice, and a third time. Toots always allowed the phone to go to voice mail, just in case. She let the phone ring for another thirty seconds. When she didn't get his voice mail, she was sure there were so many messages the phone could no longer handle any new ones. She tossed the phone on the bed and plugged her “emergency” cell phone into its charger. She hoped Abby didn't ask questions. Because if she did, Toots would have to tell her daughter another lie.
Chapter 13
C
hris walked another thirty feet away from the cabin. He held his cell phone high above his head, hoping to catch a signal. The cell-phone service provider supposedly had the best coverage in the country.
Bullshit,
he thought as he continued to act like a satellite spinning around in the midst of a snowstorm. When he looked at the cell phone again, he saw he had one bar of power. Damn, he'd lucked out! Before he lost the precious signal, he called the one person he knew he could count on no matter what.
hris walked another thirty feet away from the cabin. He held his cell phone high above his head, hoping to catch a signal. The cell-phone service provider supposedly had the best coverage in the country.
Bullshit,
he thought as he continued to act like a satellite spinning around in the midst of a snowstorm. When he looked at the cell phone again, he saw he had one bar of power. Damn, he'd lucked out! Before he lost the precious signal, he called the one person he knew he could count on no matter what.
Toots. His stepmother.
He dialed her private cell number, knowing she would answer no matter what time of day or night it was. Since she'd taken over
The Informer,
Toots said she had to be available at all times even though Abby didn't have a clue her mother was the woman behind the mask. It would serve as
The Informer
's emergency line of communication if the need to call and get an immediate response ever arose. As far as Chris knew, only he and Abby knew the private number. He shoved the phone closer to his ear to drown out the sound of the wind and listened, counting the rings. On the fifth ring, he let out a sigh of relief when he heard Toots's familiar “Hello.”
The Informer,
Toots said she had to be available at all times even though Abby didn't have a clue her mother was the woman behind the mask. It would serve as
The Informer
's emergency line of communication if the need to call and get an immediate response ever arose. As far as Chris knew, only he and Abby knew the private number. He shoved the phone closer to his ear to drown out the sound of the wind and listened, counting the rings. On the fifth ring, he let out a sigh of relief when he heard Toots's familiar “Hello.”
“Thank God,” he said. A static
,
crackling-like noise sent his heart racing. “Toots, are you there?” He waited a couple seconds, giving her a moment to reply. When he didn't get a response, he looked at the screen on his cell phone. All he saw were the words
NO SERVICE.
He'd been shunted off to her voice mail.
,
crackling-like noise sent his heart racing. “Toots, are you there?” He waited a couple seconds, giving her a moment to reply. When he didn't get a response, he looked at the screen on his cell phone. All he saw were the words
NO SERVICE.
He'd been shunted off to her voice mail.
Son of a bitch!
Furious beyond belief, Chris tossed the absolutely useless piece of plastic into a pile of snow.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? Wait until the spring thaw?
He should have his head examined for deciding to follow Laura Leigh. The spoiled-rotten brat was the client from hell. He should've paid attention to the rumors he'd heard, should have listened when his gut instinct told him to back off, stay away from the girl. But, she was an up-and-coming actress, and it was his job to represent Hollywood's best. Though he had to admit, if he were honest with himself, and he was on most occasions, she was really nothing more than a B-grade actress whom he'd used to make Abby jealous. He'd helped her get her first major role, and that should have been the end of it. Instead, he'd let Abby's lack of attention force him to use Laura in a way she truly didn't deserve. Sheer male stupidity.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? Wait until the spring thaw?
He should have his head examined for deciding to follow Laura Leigh. The spoiled-rotten brat was the client from hell. He should've paid attention to the rumors he'd heard, should have listened when his gut instinct told him to back off, stay away from the girl. But, she was an up-and-coming actress, and it was his job to represent Hollywood's best. Though he had to admit, if he were honest with himself, and he was on most occasions, she was really nothing more than a B-grade actress whom he'd used to make Abby jealous. He'd helped her get her first major role, and that should have been the end of it. Instead, he'd let Abby's lack of attention force him to use Laura in a way she truly didn't deserve. Sheer male stupidity.
Three times Abby had turned down his dinner invitation. Told him she had to workâeach and every time he'd asked. He called her cell phone, called her office, her house, and nothing. Granted, he hadn't bothered to leave a message, but still, Abby had caller ID, and she was not stupid. After declining his dinner invitations, he'd thought of that night they'd shared at Pink's. He wanted to take her back to Pink's, sure that she would get the same feelings they'd had that night almost two years before. A night he had never forgotten, a night he often dreamed about, a night that caused him to wake up drenched in sweat at the memory of her touch. He knew she checked her caller ID, had seen her do it more than once. Chris knew she was totally dedicated to her work, but he also knew she had to eat sometime.
And now he was stranded on top of a mountain somewhere in the wilds of the Sierra Nevada range in the midst of a blizzard with a nutcase actress he didn't even like. No, check that. An actress he couldn't even stand. And the odds were looking better by the day that he would never get the chance to tell Abby how he felt about her.
All because he wanted to get Abby's attention, make her jealous!
Though it was useless to him now, Chris picked up the phone he'd tossed into the pile of snow and crammed it in his pocket. When he'd last listened to the weather report, he hadn't planned on being in the mountains, hadn't given any thought to the expected storm the forecasters were calling the
storm of the century!
How many of those had the forecasters predicted in the first ten years of the twenty-first century? Why did they have to be right this once? He sure as hell hadn't planned on being stranded in the middle of nowhere with a woman he could not tolerate!
storm of the century!
How many of those had the forecasters predicted in the first ten years of the twenty-first century? Why did they have to be right this once? He sure as hell hadn't planned on being stranded in the middle of nowhere with a woman he could not tolerate!
The wind continued to howl, blowing icy bits of snow in his face. It felt as though he were being stung by a million angry bees. Heading back to the cabin, he lowered his head against the wind and pulled the collar of the jacket he'd been lucky to find at Johnathan's cabin high around the sides of his face. If he stayed outside any longer, he'd risk hypothermia. Counting the windchill factor, Chris guessed it had to be at least thirty below. Each time he'd ventured out into the bone-chilling cold in hopes of catching a signal on his cell, he'd allowed himself five minutes. Anything more was too big a risk. Hopefully, Toots would connect the dots when she saw his cell number on her private phone.
Disheartened, Chris had no other choice: go back inside the cabin and spend the rest of the night listening to Laura Leigh expound on all she would do once they were rescued. He slowed his pace when he thought of the long night ahead. He couldn't believe he was in the position to be rescued.
How in the hell has it come to this?
What should have been a simple gesture had turned into a nightmare of mammoth proportions.
How in the hell has it come to this?
What should have been a simple gesture had turned into a nightmare of mammoth proportions.
He'd been at Hot Wired waiting to meet a new client when he'd spied Laura Leigh sitting alone at a nearby table. Knowing it would be totally rude not to acknowledge her since she was, whether he liked it or not, a client, he'd picked up his glass of ginger aleâalways with a twist of limeâand walked over to her table.
“Mind if I join you?” he'd asked.
Laura had seemed surprised to see him. “Sure. Why not?” She'd responded with about as much enthusiasm as a bank teller who had just been handed $10,000 in one-dollar bills.
Chris was sure she'd had more than her share to drink, but didn't want to ask her exactly how much for fear she'd think of him in a different light. Not the hip dude she assumed him to be. They'd been out in public together, and each time he'd had to force himself to act like he was having the time of his life, when, in reality, all he'd wanted to do was go home and call Abby.
A couple times he'd seen Abby while he was with Laura. He cringed when he remembered how he'd leaned close to her so it would appear as if he were kissing her neck. The cloyingly sweet scent of her perfume almost made him sick, but when he'd seen Abby storm out of the club, he'd been glad he'd made the move. Shown dear little Abby what she'd been missing.
Now it seemed that his childishness had come back to smack him squarely in the face. Trudging through knee-deep snowdrifts, Chris figured it served him right. Instead of playing stupid cat-and-mouse games with his feelings, and Abby's, too, he should've acted like the man his father and Toots had raised him to be. He should have stepped up to the plate a long,
long
time ago and told Abby how he really felt.
long
time ago and told Abby how he really felt.
As he stomped his feet on the steps to get rid of the snow on his shoes, he wondered if he'd ever get the opportunity to tell her. Laura yanked the door open, preventing him from thinking about Abby and his lack of a relationship with her. His main focus returnedâto get the hell off the mountain.
Alive.
“Where in the hell have you been? I am freezing to death! Did you find a way out of here? I hope you did because I can't stay in this shit hole another night! Look at me!” Laura shouted hysterically, as Chris shoved the large wooden door aside.
She followed him across the room to the fireplace. Warming his hands in front of the modest fire, he caught a quick glance at the wood supply. They had enough for another day, day and a half at best. Reasoning that Johnathan could afford new furniture, Chris eyed the solid oak table and chairs in the dining room. If push came to shove, he'd simply use the furniture for firewood and pay for the replacements himself. He'd worry about the fallout later.
The last person on earth Chris wanted to look at was Laura Leigh. Without her makeup, she looked like a twelve-year-old who could use a prescription for Accutane. Her actions were more like those of a toddler whose main pleasure was teasing her dog. Tossing his damp jacket across the back of a lounge chair, he took a deep breath. It was going to be another long, miserable night.
“I'm looking, Laura,” he said out of sheer exasperation.
“And? I suppose you weren't able to get a connection?”
Chris made a silent promise to himselfâhe would never, never, ever represent Laura or anyone her age again. He'd retire first. Farming, coal mining, or even trash hauling suddenly held enormous appeal.
Wearing one of Johnathan's red plaid flannel shirts and a pair of gray woolen socks pulled up over her knees, her long blond hair pulled up high in a ponytail, she looked more like a two-year-old as she stomped her feet. “I asked you a question, dammit!”
Chris actually felt his jaw drop. He'd heard the expression “my jaw dropped” for years, but had never really given it much credence.
Until that moment. Until Laura Leigh actually stomped her foot and said what she said.
Shaking his head from left to right, he took a couple seconds to collect his thoughts. They were in this cabin because of her! He just needed to talk to her in a way that wouldn't cause another outburst. His patience almost gone, he said, “It's against the law to drive drunk, Laura. I'm sure that somewhere during your fun-filled, exciting life, someone or other told you that. And we're here because you threatened to blow up the studio, remember?”
Needless to say, Chris did not mention he'd lost a new client when he'd chased after Laura, trying to protect her from herself. Even if he said it, he doubted she would have paid the slightest bit of attention to anything other than her own misery.
Kicking at the dwindling pile of logs with her stockinged foot, Laura said, “Yeah and I didn't get the part in
Bloody Hollow, Two
because of you! Remember
that?
”
Bloody Hollow, Two
because of you! Remember
that?
”
Obviously, we have remembered two different sets of events concerning the casting of
Bloody Hollow, Two
,
he thought. It was his distinct recollection that the director, the producer, and everyone else right down to the catering staff, if you really wanted the truth, all claimed Laura Leigh was a nightmare to work with. She threw wild tantrums on the set, threatened to kill whomever her anger was directed at, and demanded hourly that her contract be changed. Yes, he knew exactly why she didn't get the second part. The big mystery was: Did she know?
Bloody Hollow, Two
,
he thought. It was his distinct recollection that the director, the producer, and everyone else right down to the catering staff, if you really wanted the truth, all claimed Laura Leigh was a nightmare to work with. She threw wild tantrums on the set, threatened to kill whomever her anger was directed at, and demanded hourly that her contract be changed. Yes, he knew exactly why she didn't get the second part. The big mystery was: Did she know?
“Spoiled brat” was too kind a way to describe her. Taking another deep breath to prevent himself from saying what he really wanted to say, Chris plopped down on the chair closest to the fireplace. “Laura, in spite of the delusions you have about show business, professionalism is required and respected, no matter who you think you are.”
He grinned to himself, knowing that was sure to tick the girl off even more than she was already, but he didn't care. He was thoroughly tired of listening to her complaints. She was lucky he'd had the foresight to follow her when she'd left Hot Wired in a drunken rage. Even luckier that he'd convinced her to pull over and let him drive her home. But after ten minutes, Chris had known he couldn't take Laura to her house or his. He needed to get her away, someplace where no one would find her.
That was when he'd remembered he had the keys to Johnathan Kline's cabin near Mammoth Mountain. Forget that it was more than five hours away from Los Angeles. None of that had mattered. His main concern was getting her off the road and away from the publicity that was sure to follow if she'd acted on her threats. Lucky for him, he'd planned to attend a conference in San Francisco, so no one would be concerned about his whereabouts. His intentions were to leave Laura alone for a few days while he attended the conference. Then, when she'd had time to think about things, his plan was to take her home and let her face the music, minus him as her attorney. However, the umpteenth storm of the century had other plans for them.
Seething with uncontrollable rage, Laura picked up one of the logs from the box next to the fireplace. Hefting it over her shoulder, she prepared to swing it forward when Chris caught the end of the log in his hand. “Enough, Laura, dammit! Start acting like an adult.” Easily taking the log from her hands, he tossed it into the fire, sending sparks flying up through the flue.
“Are you out of your mind?” she screamed.
“I could ask you the same thing.” Chris stood up, looked around the room, threw his hands up in the air, then dropped them back to his sides. Frustration didn't begin to describe what he was feeling.
“Actually, I think we're damn lucky. We could be trapped in your car on the side of the road somewhere freezing to death. Instead, here we are in a luxurious cabin, with all the amenities. And you're complaining.”
Chris turned his back on her and walked into the kitchen. He knew anything he said would not make a difference. Laura was an immature, self-serving, spoiled Hollywood brat. Knowing it gave her satisfaction to argue with him, he decided he would keep his mouth shut until they were able to drive away on their own or he was able to make a call using his cell phone. With that thought in mind, he opened the cupboard and removed two cans of tomato soup, thankful Johnathan kept the cabin supplied with plenty of staples.
Other books
Shell Game by Jeff Buick
The Hunters by Chris Kuzneski
Male Order Bride by Carolyn Thornton
The Billion Dollar Contract: The Executive Collection by Cynthia Dane
Limassol by Yishai Sarid
In Too Deep by Shannon, R.W.
The Perfect Fiancé (Matchmaking for Wallflowers Book 0) by Bianca Blythe
Nightbloom by Juliette Cross
Driftwood Cottage by Sherryl Woods
Whispers of Murder by Cheryl Bradshaw