Shoot to Kill by Cynthia Hickey

Author:Cynthia Hickey [Hickey, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946939968
Publisher: Winged Publications
Published: 2018-09-06T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

“I need you to look into a young man named Jerard something. He’s a gang member, I think,” I said the instant I entered our trailer the next morning. “He’s the one who tried to assault me at the beach house.”

“That should be easy.” Lisa held out a vinyl apron, fastening it around my neck after I sat in the chair. “Anything in particular I’m looking for?”

“Any connection to William Johnson or some big dude named Harrelson who acts as Johnson’s bodyguard.”

“Got it. I’ll work on it as soon as you and Ruthie leave.” She loosened my hair from its ponytail. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand why I have to make your hair look like you’ve been running around, when running around will give it the same look.”

I shrugged. “I don’t do all my stunts. Maybe that’s why.”

“Oh, a note was left here for you this morning. I found it on the table.” She handed me a plain white envelope.

I opened it. “Johnson wants to hire me for a photo shoot.”

“With a gun most likely,” Ruthie said from her place on the sofa. She peered from under her sleep mask. “Take Morgan with you. Oh, I guess that means we all go.” She let the mask fall back into place. Every morning she insisted I have my makeup done first so she could snatch a little more beauty sleep.

“I agree with Ruthie.” Lisa pulled up a handful of my hair and started back combing. “It’s a trap.”

I agreed, but that idiot side of me that trod where danger resided whispered in my ear that it might be a good opportunity to do some digging. “It can’t be too bad if the whole gang is there.”

“You’re either brave or stupid,” Lisa said.

“Go with the second.” I laughed.

When Lisa finished with me and was working on Ruthie, I took the time to read over the day’s script. I would be shot. Something I needed to work on. Falling on purpose wasn’t exactly a talent of mine. I looked awkward, fake, and ended up with bruises. A long day loomed ahead of me.

By nine a.m., late as usual, Ruthie, Shutterbug, and I arrived on set. Louie muttered something under his breath about taking an early retirement and fell back into his chair. “I’m buying you a watch.”

“No need,” Ruthie said. “My fault this time. I couldn’t get going this morning.”

“Late night?” He scowled.

“Yes.” She glanced at me. Ruthie had refused to go to sleep until I returned home safe.

“Some people do not take their careers serious enough. Places, everyone.”

Ruthie and I hunkered behind a pile of wooden crates. The lights dimmed. The set had been transformed to look like an alley between two tall brick buildings. Set designers didn’t get the credit they deserved. Yesterday, this set was a police department.

Blanks were fired back and forth between us and the ‘bad’ guys. I rose slightly and motioned for Ruthie to head to the dumpster. A shot rang out from above us.

I whirled and dropped like a sack of potatoes.

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