Beach Town (30 page)

“And that's another thing,” Greer said. “Eb's not just Allie's guardian. He's the mayor. He and the police chief are buddies. What if Eb decides to have Kregg arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor? Worse yet, if he wanted, he could probably pull all our filming permits and shut the whole set down.”

“You don't think he'd actually do that, do you?”

“He adores that girl. He and Ginny both do. You can't blame him for wanting to protect his niece. I think if I were Eb, I'd give Kregg the beat-down of his life. And then I'd toss his skinny white butt on the next plane out of here.”

“If that happens, we're all out of a job,” CeeJay pointed out. “Bryce got the financing for this flick based on Kregg's marquee appeal. If he's out, the film doesn't get made. And I don't know about you, but it looks like when I get back to L.A. I'm gonna be looking for a new place to live.”

“No more Garage Mahal?”

“We'll see.” CeeJay's gaze shifted toward the pool. The lone lap swimmer had climbed out of the water and was leisurely toweling off, with his back to them. His bronzed skin gleamed in the reflected light of the pool. He had wide, muscular shoulders and narrow hips, and the wet swim trunks that clung to his body left little to the imagination.

“Hey. That guy is one of our extras. I'd know that body anywhere. Wonder what his name is?”

She craned her neck, trying to get a better look. “No wedding ring.”

“Claudia Jean!” Greer stood up. “You are incorrigible.”

“Just keeping my options open,” CeeJay said. “Where are you headed?”

“I guess I'd better go see the mayor.”

 

35

Greer tapped lightly on the door of the motel manager's apartment. There was no answer, but she could hear music coming from inside, so she walked around the corner across a stretch of beach, and stepped up to Ginny's gated back porch. The music, which sounded like soft jazz, was louder here, and although no lights shone, she could see the glowing tip of a lit cigarillo among the luxurious greenery on the manager's porch.

“Ginny? It's Greer. I'm looking for Allie. Is she here tonight?”

She heard the scrape of a chair on the concrete porch floor, and then Ginny's head popped out between the fronds of a large potted fern.

“Hi, Greer. Allie's working at the Inn tonight. Want to sit and have a drink with me?”

“Thanks anyway, but I've got some stuff to do.”

Ginny leaned over the wrought iron porch railing. “Anything special you need to see Allie about? Is her work for your people going all right?”

“Allie's doing a great job as a production assistant. She's a natural at it. Something's come up that I need to discuss with her.”

The older woman frowned. “Nothing serious, I hope.”

Serious? Yes,
Greer thought,
this is fairly serious.
Should she tell Ginny the truth? Was this even any of her business? She silently cursed herself for ever getting involved with Allie Thibadeaux's personal life.

The iron patio gate scraped open and Ginny stepped out onto the beach. “Greer? I think maybe you better come up here and tell me what's going on.”

*   *   *

Ginny handed Greer a cold longneck. “Whatever it is that's worrying you, I wish you'd just tell me,” she said. “I'm old, but believe me, there is nothing you can say that will shock me. And whatever is going on with Allie, I need to know about it.”

Greer clutched the icy bottle between both hands. “I'm lost here, Ginny,” she admitted. “I confronted Allie about some … behaviors earlier this week. She promised me she'd be careful, and in return I promised her I'd keep my mouth shut and not alert you or Eb. I'm in a bad spot, and I honestly don't know what to do.”

Ginny exhaled sharply. “Good Lord. What kind of a mess has that child gotten herself into?”

“I don't want to betray her trust. But I'm afraid things have gotten out of hand.”

“For Pete's sake, Greer. Just spit it out.” Ginny leaned forward and studied Greer's face in the flickering light of a citronella candle burning in the middle of the table. “This is about that boy, isn't it? Kregg—the boy who's here making the movie?”

“Yes. No. Okay, yes. It's about Kregg—our male lead. I don't think he's a good influence on Allie. She's too young, for one thing, and for another, well, let's just say he's no Boy Scout.”

“I knew something was going on with that girl,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “Every time I look up lately, she's running out the door. She tells me and Eb she's working all the time, but I'm guessing that's not true. So she's messing around with that Kregg?”

Greer felt miserable ratting Allie out, and she felt even more miserable at the thought that she'd allowed things to go too far between Allie and Kregg.

“She told me they were just hanging out. Having fun. She said it wasn't serious.”

“She lied,” Ginny said flatly. “Didn't she?”

“I don't want to jump to conclusions,” Greer said reluctantly. “That's why I wanted to talk to her tonight.”

Ginny stood up.

“Where are you going?” Greer asked.

“I'm calling Eb,” Ginny said firmly. “We'll put a stop to this right now.”

“No! Wait. Please let me talk to Allie first before you get Eb involved.”

Ginny's lips were set in a firm line. “Too late for that now.”

*   *   *

Eb stared down at the oversize image on the bulky old computer monitor on Ginny's living room desk. His eyes narrowed and a muscle in his tightly clamped jaw twitched.

“God damn it. I'll kill that little bastard.”

“Eb…” Ginny cautioned. “We don't know for sure that it's Allie.” She leaned over and again examined the picture. She sighed. “But it sure enough looks like her.”

“Only one way to find out.” He glanced at his watch. “It's almost ten now. She should be getting off work any minute. When she gets home, we'll have it out.”

“She's not coming home,” Ginny said. “She and the other girls are spending the night at Courtney's. I told her it was all right if she went right there from work.”

“Which is probably a lie,” Eb said. “She's probably planning on sneaking around with that little shit.”

Greer cleared her throat. “Hopefully not. Bryce told me today that Kregg is supposed to be staying in, learning the lines for some new scenes.”

“Does Bryce know about this picture, and this story?” Eb tapped the computer screen.

“I texted him about it before I came over here.”

“And what was his response?”

“I didn't hear back from him,” she admitted. “But we've got a seven o'clock call in the morning, and we're shooting at two different locations tomorrow, including exteriors at the casino, so Bryce is probably asleep already.”

“Asleep at the wheel,” Eb said. He grabbed his phone and tapped a number and waited. He frowned and looked over at his aunt. “Voice mail.”

“She might still be doing her side work at the Inn,” Ginny cautioned.

Eb shook his head and spoke curtly into the phone.

“Allie? Your spend-the-night party is canceled. I want you back here at Ginny's, now. And if you're not home in the next fifteen minutes, I'm calling the chief and she'll have a patrol car sent out to drag you back here. Understand?”

“Was that really necessary?” Greer asked quietly.

He fixed her with a long, cold stare. “Do you have any better ideas? My niece's topless photo has gone viral on the Internet, thanks to you people. God knows what she's been up to with that degenerate. She's lied to me, she's lied to Ginny, and she's lied to you. This has gone far enough. I'm not about to let her get away with that, and I'm not about to sit back and let her ruin her life with that loser, the same way her parents ruined their lives. So yes, I do think it's necessary to take extreme measures here.”

Greer gripped the seat of her chair with sweaty hands, fighting her strongest instinct, which was to cut and run. What was she doing here, anyway? She was a location manager, not a family therapist. This was none of her business.

But she couldn't run. This mess was her fault. She should have warned Eb and Ginny that Allie was getting involved with Kregg, and she should have asked Bryce to intervene. And she should never have trusted the word of a starry-eyed seventeen-year-old, no matter how mature that teenager seemed in her work life, and no matter how much she actually liked Allie. Greer should have remembered from her own personal history just how headstrong and devious a teenage girl could be.

“I don't understand what this TMZ thing is, anyway.” Ginny was scrolling down the site, shaking her head, reading aloud the lurid headlines about celebrities she'd never heard of.

“We had movie magazines when I was a kid, coming up. They'd have stories about who Elizabeth Taylor was marrying, or which bullfighter Ava Gardner was dating, but nothing like this. I can't believe they can print this stuff and get away with it. And these pictures! Lord have mercy!”

“Unfortunately, this is the norm these days,” Greer said. “TMZ, Gawker, Perez Hilton … There are dozens of gossip sites online, and they're all competing to be the first to break any scrap of sensationalistic gossip or scandal. The more hits or page views they get, the more money they can get from companies that advertise on their sites. And if they can run a photo with a story, that's huge for them.”

“Revolting,” Eb said. “If I knew who took this picture, I'd haul their ass into court so fast.…”

“It doesn't even have to be a professional photographer anymore,” Greer said. “Anybody with a cell phone can take a picture or shoot a video, and if it's of a hot celebrity like a Kardashian or Beyonc
é
, they can sell it and name their own price.”

The front door of Ginny's apartment flew open and Allie stomped inside. She was still wearing her hostess name badge, as well as a very, very pissed-off look on her face.

“What?” Allie took in the three adults staring at her. “For real, Eb? You're going to sic the cops on me? For what?”

“For this.” Eb pointed at the computer monitor.

Allie drew closer, and when she saw the photo, her face paled.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, as she sank down onto the nearest chair.

Ginny touched the girl's arm. “Oh, Al. What were you thinking?”

“Who did this to me?” Allie cried, self-consciously folding her arms across her chest, as though that might obliterate the image on the screen of her bare breasts pressed into Kregg's back. “Oh my God!”

“You did it to yourself,” Eb said.

“I can explain,” Allie said quickly, and the words tumbled out of her mouth in one long, breathless torrent. “We were out on the Jet Ski, and we hit a huge wave, and my top went flying off. I was like, ‘Oh my God, don't look,' it was so-o-o embarrassing. And we turned around to go look for it, but I couldn't find it. I mean, it was gone. What was I supposed to do? Kregg took me back to the dock, where I'd left my stuff, and I jumped in the water, and he gave me a towel, and I got dressed.” Huge tears welled up in her blue eyes, leaving a mascara-tinted trail on her cheeks.

“Stop it!” Eb said. “Allie, do you think we're stupid? That's the lamest story I've ever heard.”

“I can't help it. It's the truth,” Allie said tearfully.

“What were you doing out on a Jet Ski with him? These past two weeks, you told us you were working nonstop.”

“I
was
working,” Allie said. “It was only one afternoon. Kregg got done with his scenes early, so we went to the beach.” She looked desperately at Greer.

“Greer, you tell him. Haven't I been working with you? Haven't I been on the set, at the house, and at base camp all this time?”

“I don't know,” Greer said, hesitating. “Allie, I'm just really disappointed in you. I thought, after we talked this week, you agreed to cool it with Kregg.”

“Wait.” Eb's gaze settled on Greer. “You knew about this? Knew she was sneaking around with this joker? And you didn't bother to let me know until now?”

“You ratted me out to Eb and Ginny?” Allie cried. “You promised you wouldn't. I never should have trusted you.”

Greer felt the heat rising in her face, but before she could attempt to defend herself, Eb cut in.

“Leave Greer out of this, Allie. She's not the issue right now. The issue is that you lied to us. You lied about where you were, and who you were with, and what you were doing.” He pointed at the computer monitor with a look of pure disgust. “And this is the result of your deceit.” He scrolled down to the story.

“There are more than eight hundred comments on this piece of crap. Do you want to know what disgusting stuff total strangers are saying about you, Allie? Do you want to know how many people have seen this photo of you?”

“Stop it!” Allie cried. “It's not my fault. How did I know some skeeve would take a picture like that?”

“You should have known better than to put yourself in a position like that,” Eb said. “Riding around topless with some guy you'd just met? A twenty-two-year-old, who should be sitting in jail right now for what he's done to you? You should have known better than to lie to us.”

“I am not lying,” Allie sobbed. “Why can't you believe me?”

“Did you ask me or Ginny if you could go out with a twenty-two-year-old?”

“No! Because I knew you'd say no. And you don't even know Kregg. He's nothing like what you think. He's a nice guy. He's funny and he's sweet—and he doesn't treat me like a baby!”

“Allie, Allie,” Ginny said softly. “A nice boy wouldn't sneak around behind your family's back. A nice boy would come to me or Eb and ask permission to take you out.”