Dying to Have Her Read online

  Doug leaned his head on Jennifer’s shoulder. “They sent me off like a virgin lamb to slaughter,” he said.

  “Yeah, right, virgin lamb,” Serena murmured. Her hands were still shaking. She had to get a grip on everything going on here.

  “She can be cruel,” he whined to Jennifer.

  “Doug, how did your night go?” She pressed.

  “Great. I had a wonderful time. And I wasn’t compromised in any way, although, of course,” he said in an aside to Jennifer, “they gave me instructions to sacrifice my honor if need be, for the benefit of the show.”

  “You told him to do that?” Jennifer asked Serena.

  “Never,” Serena assured her.

  “Liar,” Jennifer told Doug.

  “Well, he is very good looking these days, smooth, suave, entirely sophisticated. He had out the best caviar I’ve tasted in ages.”

  Yeah, sucker Doug in for the kill! Serena thought, then winced at the very idea. She had no right to impose her own dislike of Kyle on Doug.

  “And guess what I got this morning in my dressing room?” Doug continued.

  “Candy?” Jennifer asked.

  “Very, very expensive champagne. With a note saying that we should keep up the excellent work.”

  “Where’s Allona when we need her?” Serena said. “She’d be asking if he meant the writing on the show or ridding the world of Jane Dunne.”

  “Hey, Serena, look,” Doug said. “You’ve got an admirer, too.”

  She glanced over at her dressing table. There was no large display of flowers. Only a single rose, lying there right in front of her makeup station.

  “A single rose,” Jennifer mused. “How sweet. Hey, maybe Liam left it—a peace offering.”

  “If so, he can take it right back.” She hesitated, then looked at Doug. “Was he still lurking outside when you came in just now?”

  “Who?”

  “Liam.”

  “Liam? Liam Murphy? Tall, dark, macho, used to be a cop?” Doug queried, studying her.

  “Yes, Liam,” she said impatiently.

  “Nope. Can’t say that I’ve seen him.” His brows shot up. “Should I have seen him? Ohmigod! You two made up—”

  “Not in this lifetime,” Serena murmured.

  “Then—”

  “He’s her bodyguard,” Jennifer said.

  “Hmmmmmm …”

  “No ‘hm,’” Serena said firmly. “Maybe he quit.”

  “I doubt that,” Jennifer said.

  Serena looked at her. “He doesn’t quit,” she said with a shrug. “Not until the bitter end.”

  “I think we’d better get going; nearly time for that mandatory meeting,” Doug said, his eyes rolling. “Ah, but this is rich. I like it. You have the falling-out of your life with a cop who comes back as your bodyguard. It’s so … Hollywood.”

  “Doug,” Serena warned, “I didn’t have a falling-out— it wasn’t working. I’ve dated before. I’ll date again.”

  He’d been heading toward the door. He turned to pat her cheek. “Sure you will, sweetie.”

  “Doug—”

  “Both of you hush. I’m going to try not to wake the baby,” Jennifer said, going for the carrier.

  “Go on. I’ll be along in just a minute,” Serena said.

  “We’re not allowed to be late,” Doug warned.

  “I’m coming. In two seconds. I promise,” she said.

  When they had both exited her dressing room, she stepped over to her phone and dialed Jinx’s extension. When her assistant picked up, she asked first how she was.

  “Still scared,” Jinx told her.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Serena said.

  “I’ve been nervous since this all started.”

  “It will get better,” Serena lied. Then she asked, “There’s a rose in my room. Who sent it?”

  “Arose?”

  “Rose, Jinx. Long-stemmed red flower. Do you know who sent it?”

  “Gosh, no, I’m sorry. I haven’t been in your dressing room this morning. Serena, do you think I have to go to that meeting?”

  “Mandatory for everyone, I’m afraid,” Serena told her. “Jennifer even came back from maternity leave with the baby.”

  On the other end, Jinx sighed. “All right.”

  Serena hung up. She hesitated, looking at herself in the dressing table mirror. She still looked like hell. She should have come in and fixed that.

  Her eye fell on the flower. Just a single rose. Was it a peace offering?

  There could be no peace.

  She’d tell Liam what he could do with it.

  Chapter 8

  SERENA WASN’T LOOKING FORWARD to the meeting herself, but she exited her dressing room quickly and headed upstairs to the conference hall. All of the full-time cast members were there, and many of the crew. Vera Houseman, the slight, silver-haired, blue-eyed matron of Valentine Valley, Marina Valentine, was seated near the head of the table, deep in conversation with Hank Newton, who played the baritone-voiced patriarch of the show, Vittorio Valentine. Kelly and Jennifer and Conar were next to them; they had saved her a seat. Andy Larkin, here both as the actor playing Dale Donovan and as the producer, was at the head of the table with Joe Penny. Jim Novac, the director, was between the two producers. Jay Braden was at the end of what seemed to be the actors’ side of the table; across from them were Doug and Allona. Emilio Garcia and Dayton Riley from lighting were standing along the wall, with the other backstage personnel.

  Liam Murphy walked in, and Serena, taking her seat, ignored him. Vera and a number of the others who had met Liam before jumped up. Vera walked around the table, eager to greet him. “Lieutenant Murphy! How wonderful to see you, we’ve had strangers among us, so dreadful, you know.”

  “Sorry, Vera,” Liam told her. “I’m afraid I’m not a cop anymore.”

  “He’s a P.I.”

  “A private investigator? Just like on Magnum or the Rockford Files!” Vera asked.

  “No, Vera,” Hank sighed. “Just like real life.”

  “Oh, dear, who hired you?” Vera asked, frowning. She was easily flustered.

  “The show,” he said briefly, squeezing her hands in a reassuring manner. “Why don’t you let Joe and Andy do some talking?”

  Silently, so no one would notice him, Bill Hutchens slipped into the room. He must have decided to come this first day back on the set, Serena thought.

  Joe Penny stood then, clearing his throat. “Well, it’s been a long time since we’ve all been together like this. And I’m afraid that it’s a sad occasion that has brought about this meeting. But that’s why it’s important that we get together. We’re like a real family here at Valentine Valley, and I want to assure you all first that we’ll never let such a tragedy occur again. Every light on every set has been gone over, every camera has had a thorough check, and our set designers have gone over everything, absolutely everything, to make sure that we now provide a totally safe environment in which to work. This has been a shattering blow to all of us. Andy and I feel the sorrow and the significance of what has happened more than you can imagine. But we don’t intend to give up on Valentine Valley, and we hope you all feel the same.”

  “But,” Vera said, “you’ve hired a—a private investigator.” She paused to smile at Liam.

  “Don’t you have faith in the regular police?” Jay Braden asked. He was leaning back, frowning. He seemed agitated.

  “Of course we have faith in the police,” Joe said.

  “So, if this was an accident, why do we need a P.I. on the set? No offense, Liam.”

  “None taken,” Liam said.

  Joe sighed. “We just want to do everything right on this. We’ve had a terrible tragedy. We hired Liam as protection. But we want to get back to normal, too. Get working again, move on with our lives, and our professional obligations.”

  Listening to the words being spoken, Serena almost forgot that Liam was in the room. She couldn’t keep still any lo
nger. “Wait, wait, wait!” she exclaimed, standing and facing Joe and Andy. “I was questioned by the police, like all of you. Why are we pretending that we know this was an accident? We don’t know what happened!”

  “Is this over that silly note you think you saw in that ashtray?” Andy demanded, staring at her with narrowed eyes, as if she were attacking him personally.

  “What note in an ashtray?” Emilio demanded. She didn’t realize until he spoke then that he and Dayton must have been through hell, riddled with guilt about what happened.

  The police had told her not to say anything. She had slipped at the funeral.

  “It wasn’t an ashtray; it was a saucer. And I noticed it because Jennifer doesn’t smoke, and there aren’t any ashtrays in her dressing room,” Serena said.

  “So what the heck does a note in an ashtray mean, anyway?” Jay demanded.

  “There was no note in an ashtray,” Joe said gruffly.

  “When the police went back to look, there was no note and no saucer,” Serena corrected. ‘That’s the point. I saw it, and it disappeared, so maybe it meant something.”

  “And maybe somebody just hid it so that Jane wouldn’t look bad … since she was dead, and couldn’t defend herself,” Andy said.

  “All right, great,” Conar said, standing as well. “Who hid the saucer with the note?”

  The room was silent.

  “This meeting was supposed to get us working together again peacefully,” Andy reminded Serena.

  “Yes, and I hope we all do work peacefully. As long as we don’t forget that whether we did or didn’t like Jane, she still deserves that the truth be discovered.”

  “We checked that equipment,” Emilio said. His voice sounded like a growl. “We always make sure the clamps are secure.”

  “So you’re accusing someone of intentionally making the light fall?” Kelly asked indignantly.

  “You know what?” Jay said, “I know lighting as well. I spent a few seasons of summer stock helping out on the lights. A clamp must have been loose.”

  “Bull!” Emilio roared.

  “Oh, great,” Joe muttered. “We’re going to have a riot.” He stared at Serena.

  She stared back at him, then swung around to look at Liam. He’d taken a seat in the rear and was remaining totally silent. He was listening, she realized. To every word said, every nuance spoken.

  Joe spoke again. “Listen, all of you. This soap opera is my life. You all know that. I want a safe working environment, and I care about every single one of you. Now … we are getting back to work today. Andy and I want to assure you that we’re interested in all your feelings and comments. If you need help coping, please come to us. We can arrange for counselors and therapy, if necessary. Don’t be afraid to come to us with anything. We are family. Is there anything else?”

  The room was silent.

  “And now that we’re functioning as a family again,” he said, “I’ll let you all go and get on with your day. Meeting adjourned!”

  As she had expected, it was a long day.

  The extras had been hired to bring in the latest “finds” that she was somehow managing to get spirited out of Egypt. Jeff was on the set all day, arguing over the fact that it wasn’t easy to take historic treasures out of the country in which they were found. A sarcophagus couldn’t be hidden in one’s luggage. They went back and forth over several fine points, the writers were called in, some changes were made, all dealing with private planes, bribed officials, and the great wealth of the Valentine family. The scene was an argument she was having with Conar over his character’s pursuit of her youngest sister, who was infatuated with him, while he was simply after the Valentine vineyard. He’d already had an affair with Natalie Valentine, Jennifer’s character, and his determination to seduce Maria and extract secrets from her had now been going on well over a year. As David DeVille, son of a neighboring wine patriarch, he was accosting her because she kept telling Maria, her soap sister, to stay away from him, and she was ready to light into him because she was the oldest sister, the toughest, ready to do battle.

  She was ready for the scene in which she attacked him with a canopic jar—one of her rare, smuggled items from the tomb of Hathesput Amen, a fictional pharaoh. Naturally, invading his tomb carried a terrible curse.

  Most of the rest of the cast had been given revised scripts and dismissed until the next day. Serena had no difficulty in working with Conar; he was wonderfully professional. He could be given a new page of lines and repeat them perfectly in a matter of seconds. They worked well together.

  The extras had been called in as employees. The casting director had asked for Hispanic types, since they were supposed to be Mexicans who were in the States illegally, and therefore not about to ask Verona Valentine the source of her treasures.

  The men brought in were great. Despite the fact that the sarcophagus had been crafted out of soft pine and Styrofoam, it was heavy, bulky. Jeff had painstakingly detailed the set piece himself. He had been practically neurotic, giving directions to the stage carpenters so that it was just right, making Jim crazy. Because it was so awkward to carry, they had done four takes already. Jim sounded as if he were at his wits’ end.

  “We’re not shooting Land of the Pharaohs here!” he complained to Andy. “This is a showdown! The damned coffin thing is too heavy. Let’s start off with it in place already and the men just leaving.”

  “Fine, fine!” Andy said impatiently.

  As the sarcophagus was rearranged, Conar stood with Liam. Serena felt ridiculous, standing around alone. She turned to one of the extras, determined that she was going to be as charming as she could. The man could only stutter and stumble in reply.

  “We’re on in five, four, three …” Jim commanded, then he went silent and used a finger count for the last two numbers.

  In the changed scene, she thanked the men as they supposedly set down the heavy sarcophagus, taken from its packing crate and set in the cottage by the pool where she worked and often slept. She paid them, thanking them again in Spanish, and putting her fingers to her lips. They did the same.

  They disappeared from the set. She started talking to herself, pleased as she unwrapped the canopic jars from another crate. Then she heard Conar enter, and she spun around.

  She berated him for coming in, telling him he was not invited anywhere on Valentine property. She was going to call the police and have her arrested for breaking and entering. He told her he had an open invitation from Maria to come at any time. And while she was reporting him to the police, she could explain all the treasures in her cottage.

  With that, she informed him he was to stay away from her sister.

  He told her she’d have to make him.

  She swore again that she would find a way to do so.

  He accused her of being jealous, of wanting him herself. She was indignant. He was seductive, getting close to her … too close … too intimate, moving the hair at her nape, pressing his lips there … then whispering again that she was jealous, that she wanted what her sister had. And if she kept him from Maria, she’d better be willing to give something herself.

  That was when she hit him with the canopic jar. She grabbed it in the midst of his coercion, and cracked him over the head. Naturally, it was made to break apart on impact. He grabbed his head and stumbled back, falling to the floor. She knelt down beside him, afraid that she had killed him, only to find him seizing her.

  The scene ended there, with David DeVille telling Verona Valentine that she didn’t know what she wanted herself, but that he was going to see that she got it.

  Jim was pleased. “There you go! The scene—the actual scene—in one take! Oh, my God, there’s hope for the world—and this soap. Serena, what anger, what passion! I loved it! You are so wonderfully self-righteous but really mean and egotistical! I love it!”

  “Thanks, Jim,” she murmured as Conar helped her to her feet.

  He was grinning. “You bitch, you,” he teased.
/>   She managed to smile in return. Conar, she knew, was joking. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. Hey, it looks like we’re out of here,” Conar told her.

  “Watch the camera!” Jim called absently. Serena noted that the second camera, and a number of wires, were in the way.

  “We’ll back out,” Conar said. “Want to go have a drink?”

  She eyed him skeptically. “You and me? Are we meeting Jen somewhere?”

  “Jen will be happy to come if I call her. Maybe we can make it dinner.”

  “Ah, except that we both know I’m being tailed.”

  “Hey, Serena! Watch it!” Jim called suddenly, the tone of his voice frantic.

  What was she about to step on now? she wondered. She didn’t get to think long. A blur suddenly came leaping over equipment and sets. She was shoved into Conar, and together they were thrown to the ground with a force that sent the air rushing from her lungs. She felt herself crying out.

  Conar took the brunt of the fall. Someone was on top of her. Liam.

  She heard a thunderous clanging. The sound sent panic pulsing through her veins.

  Close to her. So close …

  The floor reverberated. Dust swirled around her. She lay stunned, her heart thundering. Afraid to move …

  Chapter 9

  LIAM ROLLED OFF HER, not helping her up, but heading for the huge A-frame ladder used to set the lights in the overhead grids. The heavy piece of equipment had fallen from there. It had barely missed the scenery that represented the wall of her room.

  Serena scrambled to her feet, reaching down for Conar. She forced herself not to shake.

  Conar rose with swift agility, taking her by the shoulders. “You all right?”

  She nodded. “Fine.”

  Conar was looking behind her. Liam was hunched down on the ground by the fallen ladder, giving it a thorough inspection. Emilio Garcia rushed onto the stage. “I left the damn thing on the safety hooks. I swear it!” he cried. He pointed at the building wall beyond the set. “There—see, those hooks hold the ladder in place.”

  Serena walked over to the fallen piece of equipment. Bill Hutchens was among the crowd gathering around it. While they stared at it, as if a whale had beached in the middle of their studio, the detective knelt down beside Liam.