The Spiral Path

Contents:

∗ ∗ ∗

Prologue

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22

23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41

Epilogue

∗ ∗ ∗

PROLOGUE

Broad Beach,
California

Four Years Ago

B
eing a sex
symbol was a hell of a lot of work. Kenzie Scott came in from his morning beach
run panting like a racehorse and covered with sweat. Some days he reached the
euphoria of a runner's high. Other times exercise was pure torture, and this
was one of them.

His
all-purpose household help, Ramon, silently handed him a cool glass of juice
and disappeared back into the kitchen. Kenzie dropped onto the sofa in the
family room, sipping his drink and watching the waves roll toward the beach. He
could gaze at the sea forever, he sometimes thought. Wave after wave,
eternally. Hypnotic, mindless peace.

There
were a couple dozen things he should be doing, but he wasn't in the mood for
any of them, so he took a videotape from the haphazard stack teetering on the end
table. Oscar voting time was coming up, and studios were inundating Academy
members with screeners of nominated films. He glanced at the box.
Home Free,
featuring a nominee for Best Supporting Actress. Raine Marlowe.

He'd
heard good things about Raine Marlowe, but hadn't seen any of her work. He
popped the tape into the VCR, then returned to the sofa with the remote.

He
felt a tingle of anticipation as the opening credits appeared. He'd never
outgrown his blind love of movies. The best memories of his childhood were the
hours he spent mesmerized in the dark safety of movie theaters. Though becoming
an actor had seemed impossible, he'd made it. Along the way he'd learned a lot
about the complex skills required by filmmaking, yet he'd never lost the sense
of wonder that movies always stirred in him.

Home
Free,
a low-budget family drama that had done unexpectedly well, was just
getting interesting when the phone rang. His assistant, Josh, wouldn't have let
the call through if it wasn't important, so Kenzie hit the VCR mute button and
lifted the phone.

His
manager, Seth Cowan, said, "Morning, Kenzie. Have you looked at any of the
scripts I sent over?"

"I
looked at them, they looked at me. So far, nothing else has happened."

"Never
mind. I've just got a call about a role I'd really like you to think hard
about. Have you heard that a remake of
The Scarlet Pimpernel
is in the
works?"

"Vaguely."
Though Kenzie had always liked the story of Sir Percy Blakeney, who pretended
to be a fop while risking his life to save French aristocrats from the
guillotine, at the moment he was more interested in the silent characters on
his wide screen television.
"Pimpernel
is one of the all-time great
adventures, but it's hard to see how a new version could be better than the one
with Anthony Andrews and Jane Seymour. Why another remake?"

"For
starters, this is a feature, not a television movie. It also has a terrific
script, as good as the Andrews-Seymour version." Seth paused dramatically.
"Plus, Jim Gomolko is directing, and he wants to open the bedroom door for
the love scenes, which hasn't been done in earlier versions."

Kenzie
rolled his eyes. "Sex does not automatically improve a movie."

"In
this case, it adds dimension to the relationship. Sir Percy and Marguerite are
married, after all. If that physical bond is made clear, the pain of separation
and distrust will be that much more vivid."

"Good
point."

"Plus,
costume dramas are hot, and this would be a nice change for you. You can be
dashing, romantic, and eighteenth century all at once." Seth finished by
rattling off the names of the producer, the cinematographer, and the others
involved in the production. All top people. "They really, really want you
for the Pimpernel."

"Everyone
wants me," Kenzie said dryly. When he'd dreamed of movies in smoky British
theaters, he'd had no idea how exhausting success would be. "But you're
right, it might be a nice change of pace. Who do they want for
Marguerite?"

While
Seth listed the names of several well-known young actresses, Kenzie watched a
battered car pull up to the curb on his television screen. The family's
prodigal daughter was returning. The camera cut to a pair of excellent female
legs swinging from the driver's side of the vehicle, then panned slowly up a
slight figure. Clothes hanging a little loose, brown hair pulled starkly back...

Kenzie
sucked in his breath as the camera reached the girl's face. This had to be
Raine Marlowe. She had "star" written all over her, effortlessly
dominating the screen even in her drab costume.

Why
was she so compelling? Not from beauty, though she had a face the camera loved.
But mere beauty was boringly common in Hollywood. There was something much
rarer about Raine Marlowe's presence, a quality that struck to the soul, or
would if he had one. A combination of fierce intelligence, honesty, and aching
vulnerability. He wanted to pull her out of the screen for a conversation. He
wanted to stroll with her across Pacific sands. He wanted...

"Kenzie,
have you heard a word I've said in the last five minutes?" Seth asked.

His
gaze followed Raine as she walked down a shabby city street toward a reunion
she knew would be painful. Even with her back to the camera, she drew the eye.
Fear and determination were visible in every step she took. "They're hot
to get me for the
Pimpernel,
they're willing to pay an indecent amount
of money, and you think I should take the role."

Seth
laughed. "Someday you're going to have to show me how you always know
exactly what's going on even when you seem to be out to lunch. If you're
interested, I'll send the script over. It's damned good."

Kenzie
watched the tense female figure disappear into a run-down apartment building.
"Tell the
Pimpernel
people I'll consider taking the part if they
get Raine Marlowe for Marguerite."

Seth
hesitated. "I don't know, Kenzie. They've been looking at English
actresses. Plus, Gomolko wants a lot of screen chemistry between his two
leads."

The
camera moved in for a close-up as Raine Marlowe paused outside an apartment
door. She was lovely in her bones. "I think chemistry can be
arranged," Kenzie said thoughtfully. "If they want me, they get Ms.
Marlowe. If they prefer another Marguerite, I'm sure there are plenty of other
actors who will do splendidly as Sir Percy Blakeney."

After
a calculating pause, Seth said, "The girl is supposed to be a good
actress, so she should be able to handle the accent. She's also new enough that
she might come cheap. I'll tell them what you said." The negotiating
process had begun.

"Thank
you." Kenzie hung up the phone and restored the sound to
Home Free.
Raine
Marlowe's voice was exactly what it should be, a flexible instrument full of
aching hope as she hesitantly greeted the mother she hadn't seen in years. Her
soft tones flowed over him like brandied chocolate, sinking into his mind and
emotions. She'd make an excellent Marguerite.

This
version of
The Scarlet Pimpernel
would open the bedroom door?

Hollywood
power was a very useful commodity.