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“What’s that?”
She glances over her shoulder, then lowers her voice. “Everyone on set knows I’m involved in finding the saboteur, so I can’t ask questions without alarming them. The police are at a dead end. I need someone to investigate these people.”
“And you think that’ll be me?” I shake my head, about to deny her request, but she holds up her hand.
“I heard you have a police detective for a brother and figured you might know a thing or two about questioning people.”
I almost laugh out loud at her assumption. Does she think I go on stakeouts with my twin? I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know a lot about the human world, but I suspect police officers don’t bring their brothers to work.
“If you won’t do it for me, then do it for Vanessa.”
“What’s this have to do with Vanessa?” I demand, narrowing my eyes at her. “The saboteur has no reason to go after her. Besides, there hasn’t been an accident since the shelving was pushed on top of you. Maybe they were warning you and now that you’ve got the message, they’ve stopped.”
She narrows her eyes back. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take with your mate’s life?”
Dammit, she’s right. I’m not willing to risk the possibility of another accident around Vanessa.
She smirks, knowing she has me. “I think it’s Ms. Whitmore, but I can’t prove it.”
“Why do you think it’s her?” I glance down at the woman’s name, printed in tidy letters on the sticky note. “According to Vanessa she’s famous enough that we’d know if she was hanging around the set.”
“Exactly, so I think she hired someone to create chaos around here, set the movie back, bleed money until the studio shuts production down. And if she’s truly pissed about losing her role, then she might go after Vanessa.”
The idea has my hackles rising. “Why did she lose the role? Vanessa said something about creative differences.”
“That’s just business jargon.” She brushes the idea off. “I don’t know exactly why she left. She and Zach didn’t often see eye-to-eye, but they seemed to be working through their differences when out of nowhere she demanded a meeting, then left the set in a hurry. I think Zach fired her because she was too difficult to work with.”
I nod, running my thumb down the other names on the list. “What about the others? Why do you suspect them?”
She points at the name Derrick Bowman. “He worked in the stunt department and was fired the first week we got here. Someone messed with Stelios’s vehicle. We never found out who, but Derrick was the only one with a beef.” She points at another name. “This person and the one below were both on set for every single accident. I cross-referenced with the entrance list.”
I’m impressed by her thoroughness. “I’ll check them out, but it’ll have to be when Vanessa is filming. It’s the only time I trust she has enough security to keep her safe.”
“Good enough,” she replies, releasing a breath. “Let me know if you come up with anything. I appreciate the help.”
Rachel is right, this needs to be investigated further. I’ve gotten complacent in the weeks since we’ve been back on set. I’m under my mate’s sex-induced, cooking-induced spell and I’m not paying attention to the dangers potentially surrounding us. Pinky tried to warn me too; now it’s time to pay attention.
During the hours when Vanessa films, I hunt down each person on the list, asking them questions before one-by-one crossing them off.
Derrick Bowman lives in Mesa and is easy to locate. Two minutes in the man’s presence has me convinced he isn’t our saboteur and that he will definitely die young. He’s torso deep in a running engine, six-pack of beer resting on the bumper of his monster truck while he answers my questions.
“I got no reason to be mad at Stelios,” he shouts, his face millimeters from a moving belt. “He told me the rules and I broke them.” He climbs down and reaches for a beer, cracking the tab and taking a swig before adding, “I’m a daredevil, not a stunt coordinator. All those rules are for pussies, I’d rather have the freedom to do what I want.”
The freedom to die, I add silently. “Who do you think might want things to get messy on set?” He doesn’t seem like he knows anything beyond the tip of his dick, but it’s worth a try.
Surprisingly, he answers without hesitation. “Hailey Whitmore.”
“Why her?”
“Woman’s a fuckin’ piece. She hung around the stunt department, flirting with Stelios and screaming demands at the grunts. She also held up production for a day until a suitable cage could be found for her parrot. Never saw the thing, but I heard it squawking at night. It was annoying as fuck.”
Not sure why an annoying parrot makes the woman guilty, but I leave, crossing Derrick Bowman’s name off the list. Not our guy.
The next person on the list was on set during all the accidents, but I’m able to confirm that they were operating an onset camera during Rachel’s accident. It takes a while to find my next person of interest.
I finally find her crawling around underneath one of the trailers, glasses askew, dirt streaking her coveralls, hair frizzing everywhere like she’s been electrocuted. Bending, I look Ginger Abbot in the face as she approaches me. Startled, she stops, her eyes wide.
“You’re the wolf shifter,” she squeaks.
