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“No problem.” Jake gestured to Grant for a couple of beers. “You enjoying your stay here?”
Lincoln didn’t know ifenjoywas the right word, but he nodded. “It’s a nice town. I can see why you’d want to film the Woodpine scenes here. When are you going to start shooting?”
“Hopefully in the fall, if we have a workable script by then. I’m also going to start scouting other locations this summer. Callie is taking a sabbatical next year, so she’ll be able to come with me when we start filming.”
“Started casting yet?”
“I have an actress in mind for Lottie. Anna Lovell. She read for the part when Birch was casting the movie.”
Lincoln’s spine tensed at the reminder of what had happened last year when director Conrad Birch had started pre-production for a movie ofTruth. Birch had turned out to be a long-time sexual predator and—thanks in large part to Jake’s initiative—the director had been investigated and eventually arrested.
During the investigation, theTruthproject had been shut down. The situation had resulted in both a lengthy prison sentence for Birch and Jake’s acquiring the rights to the book.
Though Lincoln regretted having sold the rights to Birch in the first place, he was grateful for how it had turned out. In fact, he was indebted to Jake for his determination to see Birch brought to justice.
“Have you cast Anna Lovell yet?” he asked.
“I’ve contacted her about it, but we can’t move forward until we have a script.”
“You’re going to play Tom, right?”
Jake nodded. “An old friend who directed the secondFatal Glorymovie signed on as director. Brad Kepler. He left theFatal Gloryfranchise to make a movie about the Cuban Revolution.”
Lincoln took a swallow of beer. He’d met plenty of actors in his career, but most of them seemed smaller and less impressive in real life.
That wasn’t the case with Jake. He had the same charisma and energy in person that he did onscreen as the iconic Blaze Ripley.
“Who’s writing the screenplay?” Lincoln asked.
Jake hesitated. “I’m taking a shot at it. I wrote a semi-autobiographical screenplay that I’ve put aside for now to focus onTruth. Though I think I know what your answer will be, I have to ask if you’d be interested in consulting or even co-writing.”
“No. Thanks for asking, but filmmaking is a totally different form of storytelling. I’d rather you tell Tom’s story your way.”
“Understood.”
Lincoln picked at the label of the beer bottle. “But if you have questions or anything, you can text or call. I don’t know that I’ll have good answers, but I can try. And I appreciate both your interest in the book and what you did about that whole Birch mess. I haven’t done a good job of letting you know that.”
Jake shrugged. “I get wanting to step away from something you did a long time ago. But if you change your mind, the door’s always open.” He glanced past Lincoln’s shoulder and lifted his hand to Callie, who was crossing the room toward them. “You want to join us for dinner?”
“No, thanks. I’ve got some work to do tonight.”
Lincoln greeted Callie before she and Jake left to sit at a booth. He turned back to finish his beer, catching the eye of an older man sitting on the other side of the bar.
After exchanging a nod, Lincoln grabbed the bottle and made his way over to Ray Berry. “Mind if I sit?”
“Go ahead.”
Lincoln hitched himself onto the barstool. “Grace says you moved into town a few months ago.”
Ray grunted.
“You like it here?”
“Worse places to be.” Ray moved his beer aside as Grant brought over a plate piled with a bacon burger and fries. Ray shot Lincoln a narrow look. “Don’t tell Grace. I’m supposed to be on a strict diet, but I can only take so much salad.”
“I’d never rat on a guy for eating a bacon burger.”
“I come here for real food every now and then.” Ray lifted the messy burger and bit into it hungrily. “How’s the teaching gig?”
