The Dark Horse - lanyon Josh - Страница 15

He drew a deep breath. «It's … like a doctor operating on a family member. I can't be objective about your safety; I don't have any emotional distance, which means I'm not the best person for the job now.»

I opened my mouth to argue and he said, «I don't tell you what roles to take in your career; how about you don't try to tell me the roles to take in mine?»

His tone was even and he was still sort of smiling, but he was dead serious. I stared at him. Finally lifted a shoulder.

Sergeant Jack Markowitz had apparently transferred in from a neighboring police state – to his iron-jawed dismay. Tall, trim and no-nonsense, he showed up at the beach house at the crack of dawn on Monday before Dan left to drive into Hollywood. They greeted each other tersely, stepped out front briefly to discuss «the case,» before Dan came out to the deck to tell me goodbye. «Stick close to the house today – and stick close to Markowitz.» I raised an eyebrow and he said, «Not that close.» Markowitz watched stonily from the doorway as we kissed. «Can I fix you some breakfast?» I asked my new bodyguard after Dan drove off.

«No. Thanks.» Markowitz managed, looking like breaking bread with me would choke him.

I spent an uneventful morning working out and reading through the stack of screenplays Steve had sent over. Most of them seemed to consist of roles for strung out smart asses; I began to think being typecast as a gay man wouldn't be so bad after all.

At ten o'clock Maria let herself in the back door, like usual, and Markowitz scared the shit out of all of us by throwing down on her. Once we got that sorted out, Maria, with a lot of muttering under her breath, got busy vacuuming, and Markowitz amused himself «checking out the perimeter» for the nth time. By eleven o'clock I knew it was going to be a very long day.

Steve called after lunch. «I've got good news and bad news. What do you want to hear first?»

I didn't know if I could take any bad news at the moment. «What's the good news?»

«Winston Marshall, the guy producing The Charioteer, has invited you to dinner tomorrow night.» I felt like someone turned the lights on inside me. «For real? Where?»

I expected to hear Spago or Musso & Frank Grill, but Steve said, «At his place in Bel Air. Lenny Norman will be there too.» «Does that mean –?»

«I don't know what it means,» Steve admitted. «I can tell you that Marshall likes your work. He was very interested when I said you were hooked on the idea of playing Laurie. The bad news is he didn't know you were hooked before because Lenny Norman hadn't mentioned it to him – and that's because Norman doesn't want you. They're looking at David Cort for the role.»

«David Cort,» I echoed. Davie Cort would be perfect for Laurie Odell. I could see him already in the khaki wool Battle Dress uniform of the period. He was the right age, casually attractive, a decent actor – and English. I felt nauseous. «So is that the bad news: they're pretty much decided on Davie Cort?»

«No.» Steve paused and I could feel my already wrenched nerves strrrrrreeetch another foot on the rack. «Um … have there been any more postcards?» «No.» Silence. I said, «But someone killed my neighbor's dog and hung it on our deck.» «Jesus fucking Christ!»

«You said it.» I glanced at Markowitz who was out on the deck using binoculars to check out the bikini-clad women far down the beach. A real security threat, those teeny little swimsuits.

«Okay, well, I did some checking, like you asked. This is totally unofficial, but according to my source at Hollywood Division, there's more than a little doubt as to whether Hammond was even driving the car when it went into the aqueduct.»

It was like he was speaking a foreign language; I heard him but the words didn't make sense. «What?» I said at last. «Hammond may not be dead.»

Wasn't this exactly what I'd been saying the whole time? Why had Dan tried so hard to convince me otherwise when it was obvious his colleagues thought there was a good chance Hammond was still out there? «Why didn't anyone bother to share this before?» I asked.

Steve said carefully, «I think they did. I think Dan … didn't want to alarm you.» I bit down on my anger at Dan. «Do the cops have any leads on Hammond?»

«They're watching his apartment and the motorcycle shop where he used to work. Nothing's turned up. I mean, he could be dead. They're not ruling that out.»

My brain seemed to have stalled. Steve was still talking. I tuned back in to hear him query, «You coming to this premiere at the Chinese?» «What?»

«Are you getting hard of hearing? The premiere party for this new Peter Jackson flick. You plan on making an appearance?» «I don't think so.»

«Why? Sean, you need to get out and be seen. You know how this business is. Not to mention the fact that sitting around brooding is not healthy.»

«I don't know how healthy it is for me to set myself up like a sitting duck at some big Hollywood party.»

«What are you talking about? What could be safer than a tent filled with bodyguards, security, and cameras? It's called hiding in plain sight.» «I just don't feel up to it.»

Mistake. I knew what he was going to say before he said a word. «Are you having … trouble again?» Which was his diplomatic way of asking if I was headed for another stay in the loony bin. «I'm okay.» «For real? I mean, you're eating and sleeping and taking your meds?» «I'm not on meds, Steve. I'm fine.» «Hey, panic attacks are not fine.» «I'm not having panic attacks.» Well, not many. «Whatever you want to call not being able to function.» I was used to Steve, so I'm not sure why that stung. «I can function just fine.»

«Really? Well, then explain to me what's going on? You don't want to work; you don't want to do the publicity. You do remember that acting is a job, right? That we're in business here?»

«Yeah, I remember,» I snapped, because I was feeling guilty. Playing the publicity game is a big part of the acting biz.

«You're hiding out there in the sand dunes. I mean, if by some miracle you did land The Charioteer, would you be ready to take it on?» «Of course!» «Is this recluse shtick Dan's influence?»

«It's nothing to do with Dan. It would be easier for Dan if we moved back to Hollywood. He wouldn't have to drive so far to work.» «Then what the hell is going on?»

«I don't know. I'm just … enjoying my Indian summer, I guess. I feel safer here.» I hadn't meant to say that last bit aloud; it just slipped out.

«Safer? Is Dan telling you you're safer out there? Is it his idea to keep you so isolated?» «Why do you keep coming back to Dan?»

«Because you've changed since you've been with him. You seem afraid to make decisions on your own. I don't know. Less confident. More dependent. More like … before.»

By «before» he meant when we had first met in college, when I was not that long out of the hospital, and still shaky. I had been less confident back then. I'd had trouble making my own decisions. No, that wasn't true; I'd made my own decisions, but I'd agonized over the consequences. It had half-killed me to know I was disappointing people, hurting people, failing. Steve had been my only friend during that period, and I had depended on him a lot. And he'd been there for me, which is what now kept me from giving into the blaze of anger his words sparked. I worked to keep my voice neutral. «What are you talking about?» «I'm just worried about you, dude. I've known you a long time.»

I had to wonder if some of my anger wasn't partly due to unease that Steve might be getting close to the truth. Was I starting to rely on Dan too much? Was I slipping back into unhealthy habits? I mean, as much as I wanted to believe that I'd be the first person to know if I wasn't okay, that's not usually how it works.

But I was okay. Anyone would be a little freaked with what I'd been through this past year. Even Dan agreed with that. Although Dan had also suggested I might need to start seeing a shrink again.