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“Go, go,” Alfonso ordered, and the camera operators scurried after the senator. To Fern he said, “I really need to talk to Cat. I’m getting a little concerned about liability here. I mean, where did that knife come from? That wasn’t in my copy of the script. And why isn’t Cat answering her texts? I thought she was supposed to be on-site during production.”
Fern hadn’t thought things through clearly when she locked Cat in the wine cellar. Of course the director of the show would expect to be in contact with the executive producer. The longer Cat was radio silent, the more questions there would be. “You know Cat,” she said lightly. “She’s probably analyzing all the data, corralling more sponsors. As soon as we touch base, I’ll let her know you want to talk.”
Alfonso nodded his head in resignation and Fern relaxed. “Okay, after we get the final shots of the senator leaving, we’ll pack up for the night,” he said. “But tell Cat it’s important.”
Fern watched Alfonso exit and took a moment to catch her breath before heading to the great hall to see the senator on his way. She was shocked that Ned Bennett hadn’t been the one eliminated. In fact, he had received most of the votes to stay, even beating out Samuel. Clearly the audience was bloodthirsty and wanted to see backstabbing, sabotage, and broken bones.
When Fern entered the great hall, the senator was already standing at the top of the steps, glowering down at her. He was an older man, but he was large and imposing. She tried not to shrink beneath his angry stare. “Senator,” she said, keeping her voice strong. “Are you ready to go? Your car is waiting out front.”
He gave a rueful shake of his head but said nothing, only began moving down the stairs, his suitcase thumping heavily behind him on the marble steps.
“May I help you with your bag?” Fern asked graciously when he reached the bottom, but the senator stared straight ahead, chin raised, the cameras pinned on his every move.
Fern led the senator through the great hall to the main entrance. The senator seemed ripe with anger. Surely, he couldn’t be upset with Fern. If it were up to Fern, she would send Ned Bennett packing and keep Senator Crowley. The rules were the rules. The senator hadn’t won any of the challenges—hadn’t even come close—and he had been voted off by the viewers.
Fern picked up her pace. “Your driver will take you directly to the airport. We thank you for joining us and wish that your stay with us could have been a longer one.”
“I think,” he said in his gravelly baritone as he grabbed Fern’s arm, forcing her to stop walking. “I think this is not over.”
The disgust and hate in the senator’s eyes were unmistakable. Fern shrank beneath his stare. It wouldn’t be good for the show if the very first contestant voted off assaulted the host. It would only prove to Cat that she couldn’t handle the job. No. Senator Crowley was a practical man. She would reason with him.
“I can see you’re upset, sir,” Fern said contritely. “But I think it’s to your benefit if you leave the game with dignity.”
The senator gave a harsh bark of laughter. “Dignity? A game? Is that all this is to you?” He squeezed her arm more tightly. “You have no idea who you are dealing with.”
“Fern,” a voice called out, and they both turned to see Maire striding toward them. “I was wondering if I could have a word.”
She slipped from the senator’s grip and forced a smile to her lips. “Absolutely,” she said. “Let me get Senator Crowley on his way and I’m all yours.” Fern pushed through the courtyard doors and was relieved to see that the SUV that would take the senator away was idling in the drive.
The senator, not waiting for Fern, began his descent down the stone steps. Shoulders hunched, he looked like a much older man than when he first arrived. Fern wanted to let him go without another word but knew that she needed to remain composed. She followed him down the steps, wishing that the cameras would follow them. Instead, they stayed behind getting a long shot of the senator’s departure.
At the bottom, Fern held out her hand. “Again, thank you. Best of luck to you.”
The senator’s lip curled with disdain. He let her hand hang. “You don’t understand that you most likely have ruined my life?” he asked, his face twisted in disbelief. “The picture of the woman in my puzzle was no accident. And what the doctor said just before the challenge, that was no accident either.”
Why wouldn’t he just leave? Fern steeled her spine. “Again, thank you for being here. Safe travels.”
“This is not over,” the senator said as the driver stepped from the car, took his bag, and stowed it in the rear of the SUV while the senator climbed into the back seat. Fern held her breath until the vehicle pulled away and its brake lights were swallowed up by the fog.
Aware that Maire had come down the steps behind her, Fern tried not to let her relief for the senator’s departure show on her face.
“So, what can I help you with, Maire?” she asked, trying to push aside the panic she felt. Nothing was going right. Cat was locked in the wine cellar, the senator looked like he wanted to kill her, and there was another long night in front of her.
“Are you okay?” Maire asked. “I saw the way Crowley grabbed you.”
Fern felt a lump form in her throat but swallowed it back. “I’m fine. He was disappointed. Understandably so. It’s a lot of money and he’s a man used to getting what he wants, I’m sure.”
“I feel like that has to do with more than money,” she said, noticing the bruises blooming on Fern’s arm. “Be careful. People are dangerous when they are backed into a corner.”
Fern looked up from her phone and studied Maire’s face. It appeared to hold real concern and maybe a hint of a warning. If Maire only knew what Fern was capable of doing, how dangerous she could be, Maire might not be so calm.
Maire’s face was exceptionally pale against the auburn of her hair. She cradled her right arm protectively against her body. “The real question is, are you okay?” Fern asked. She was genuinely concerned. Maire looked like she was in pain and Fern didn’t know what it would mean for the show if a contestant would have to exit early due to injury. There would be only three players remaining.
“I’m fine,” Maire said. “My shoulder is fine. But I have to talk to my daughters. I have to find out if Dani is okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Fern said, “I understand. I really do. But it clearly states in the show’s rules that no outside communication is allowed.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the rules,” Maire snapped. “This is about my daughter and her health. I don’t think you understand how serious a lung infection can be for her. I want my phone. Now.”
