Red Flags (7 page)

Chapter Twelve

I gave up on my attempts at sleuthing and packed what I needed for my afternoon adventure and an overnight in Ontario, loading it into my car and triple-checking I had all of my racing equipment. I traversed Beverly Hills from north to south, worked my way west to Overland Avenue, and drove to Sony Studios in Culver City. I felt both important and pretentious telling the guard at the gate I was there to visit Maddie Theabo. By the time I parked in the large, multi-level structure to the right of the gate, Maddie's assistant Penny was waiting.

She worked her phone non-stop as always, but it didn't dim her attentiveness or friendly nature. “How are you, Kate? Excited to be on the set?”

I tried not to be a fangirl about meeting celebrities, whether in the racing world or out, especially considering Don Kessberg's advice about interacting with them. But I was on a studio lot, about to go behind the scenes of a major motion picture, and I felt giddy. I didn't bother hiding my grin. “I'm pretty excited.”

“First rule of movie-making: it's a boring process.” She waved me forward into the maze of large warehouse-sized sound stages. “But I'll admit, it's amazing to see a movie later and know how the scenes were built. To have been there for that.”

“I'm excited to see how movies are put together.”

“Maddie's glad to have you here to show you off. The whole set knows how much fun she had at the practice session yesterday. You'll get questions. Especially from Lucas.”

I gulped. I'd done my best to ignore the fact I'd not only be seeing Maddie, but also the hottest man in America. Who claimed to have an interest in me.
You ignored it so much you changed into your best jeans and a shirt that matches your eyes
. “I can handle racing questions.” I wondered if Penny would understand. “Movie stars are still intimidating.”

“I get it. But they're normal people. Ones everyone thinks they know.”

“Gorgeous normal people.”

Penny chuckled. “True. But also goofballs. Insecure. Obsessed with stupid stuff. Like the rest of us. They're human. Focus on the personality, not the movie-star persona.”

“I'll do my best.”
Still, drop-dead gorgeous Lucas Tolani.

Penny stopped at a small door in the side of a big building. “Keep your voice down most of the time, don't say anything when they're rolling, and watch where you're stepping.”

I followed her inside. I expected to enter the fictional world of the movie being filmed. What I saw instead was a forest of metal stands holding lights, cameras, and backdrops clustered around a set for a three-walled coffee shop, with multiple tables full of people. No sign of Maddie or Lucas, even as we drew closer to the brightly lit action.

For the next three hours, I watched while movie magic happened, as Penny had warned, at a snail's pace. Discussions, rehearsals, makeup, lighting, and reblocking all took place before the scene was shot. And shot. And reshot. Over and over, take after take. Finally, the thirty-second-long scene was done, and the cast and crew took their lunch break. At five in the afternoon.

Penny explained. “They started at noon today, and they'll go to midnight or later. This really is lunch for most people.”

She knocked on the door of Maddie's small trailer and entered without waiting for a response. Inside, Maddie had changed out of her character's costume and was handing it over to a woman I'd seen on set earlier.

Maddie turned to me. “Hallelujah! Time for food and racing talk. You ready, Kate?”

“Do you have your marked up track map?”

Maddie pulled a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of her jeans and waved it in the air. “I'm ready. And hungry. Penny?”

Penny dropped onto the couch. “I'll meet you after I deal with some e-mails.”

Maddie and I settled at a dark-stained wood table in the Sony Studios Commissary with our trays of food: meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and broccoli for me, and a chicken Caesar salad for her. Light streamed in from two walls made entirely of windows.

She eyed my plate. “Damn you athletes.”

“Remember to fuel up before race day.”

“I've been working out more to prepare.” She frowned at her salad. “And eating more. But I'll be in a tight dress for tonight's scenes.”

I smiled and dug into my potatoes. “A firesuit is more forgiving. Tell me about the track, now you've had a full day to think about it.”

Maddie forked up a bite of her salad. “I got better as the session went on. More confident. Not as afraid I couldn't keep up with the leader. Like you said, the capability is there in the car, and I have to find it in myself.”

“But do the right things with the car,” I added. “Remember the traction circle.”

I referred to a simple diagram of a circle split into four quadrants, representing acceleration and braking in the top and bottom halves and left and right turning in the left and right halves. The point of the diagram was to show where the limit of traction was for any combination of turning, acceleration, or braking. At the limit of tire grip for acceleration or braking, there could be no turning; at the limit of grip for turning, there could be no throttle or braking. Or the car would break loose. Plenty of novices thought they were doing the right thing by pushing the limits of tire adhesion, only to end up outside the circle and in the wall.

“I kept that in mind the whole time, and I was
very
careful to do one thing at a time. I got smoother by the end. But I'm sure I was doing something wrong.” She took another bite of salad.

“Show me your lines.” I moved my plate to the side and studied the notes she'd made on the map of the Long Beach temporary street circuit. I quizzed her on them, particularly coming out of Turns 5 and 8, where drivers wanted to use every inch of the track on exit to carry speed through the corners and get on the throttle quickly. Which meant we ended up a hairsbreadth away from the solid, concrete walls that lined the track, something that could rattle even pros.

She scrunched up her nose. “I probably wasn't that close.”

“I didn't expect you to be.” I smiled. “But when you get back out there, remember you're supposed to be close to the walls there—don't look at them or you'll drive into them. Look down the track and see yourself running next to the wall. You want to be slow in and fast out of Turns 5, 8, and 11, to lead onto your straights.”

“Even though the front straight is one big curve with an apex.”

“Right. You're flat out down Shoreline Boulevard, so that makes it straight enough. There and the back straight are where you can build speed and sneak up on slower cars.”

She stared at her half-eaten salad. I suspected she was seeing herself driving the track in her mind.

I folded the map and handed it to her. “You looked comfortable yesterday in practice, and I know you can add speed. Keep thinking about hitting your apexes, placing your car closer to the wall, and that traction circle. You'll be great.”

“You'll be there for practice and qualifying?”

“You bet. I really want to see you kick some celebrity ass.”

“That sounds like something I want in on.” Lucas pulled out a chair with one hand, holding a tray of food in the other. “May I?”

“Sit down,” Maddie told him. “I'm going to kick some ass on the track next week.”

Lucas unloaded his own meatloaf and leaned over to set his tray on a nearby empty table. “I'm not interrupting, right? I don't mind if you need to finish talking racing.”

She shook her head. “We're done. I was getting my wrap-up pep talk.”

“Am I that predictable?” I asked, struggling to gather my wits. I wasn't sure if it was the fame or his drool-worthy looks, but Lucas scrambled my brain.
Pull yourself together.

Maddie smiled at me. “You leave me knowing I can improve, but you also make sure I feel good about what I've done and what I'm capable of. You're a good coach.”

“I'm glad to hear it. That's what you're paying me for.” I noticed Lucas gulping down his food at record-setting pace.

Maddie waved a hand. “I pay a lot of people for services and consultation. You're good because you take the trouble to get inside my head and understand what I need. Plus I like you. I've found a friend, not only a coach.”

I couldn't help grinning at her. “Agreed. And it'll be even better when you show people how it's done next weekend on the track.”

A speculative look replaced the teasing glint in Lucas' eyes. “Maddie, there's that racing movie I've been talking with people about. Maybe you want to look at it. Do it with me.”

“What's the story?” I asked.

“The early days of racing Corvettes: back in the nineteen-sixties, racing the cars in Florida and over at Le Mans. I'd need you to consult, of course.” He winked at me, and my insides fluttered.

Maddie collected her silverware on her empty plate. “It's possible. Could be fun. Who's producing?”

“Right now, me,” Lucas replied. “I'm not sure if it'll get off the ground, but I'm looking into it. I'll keep both of you in mind.”

“Sure.” Maddie stood and stopped me from gathering my utensils. “I need to head back and run some lines. Kate, since you're not done, stay and keep Lucas company. We start again in forty minutes, so come to my trailer before that.” She left before I could reply.

I looked at Lucas. “You don't need time to rehearse?”

“I'm not in the next scene, but I'll be here later than Maddie tonight. Tell me what you did today.”

I explained the various meetings I'd had, skipping the part about being asked to investigate a murder and focusing on the business aspects. I folded my napkin. “How serious are you about doing a movie about racing? Have you raced at all?”

“I went to a Skip Barber school, and I've been to a few races. I think it's an appealing and interesting world most people don't know about. With lots of cinematic possibilities and challenges. I'm serious about a movie, but it's also the first project I've taken on myself.” He turned his brilliant smile on me. “Meeting you has to count as a good omen, right?”

“You could see it that way.” I felt out of my element…on a movie studio lot, eating dinner with one of the most famous and eligible men in the world. I checked the time on my cell phone and noticed I had new messages.

Lucas covered my hand with his, blocking my view of my phone. “What's wrong?”

“I don't know how to do this.”

He frowned. “Get to know someone? Flirt? Date?”

“It's not that simple. I'm just Kate from Albuquerque.”

“You race cars around the world, and you're featured in the media wherever you go. And you're scared of me? I'm just Lucas from Boise.”

“Boise?” I laughed and the rest of what he said clicked. “I'm not scared of you. I'm…all this.” I stopped and thought about my surroundings. Sure, the commissary was more glamorous and permanent than Linda's catering tent at a race. But the rest was much the same: an elaborate, temporary show staffed by teams of people with special talents and a couple stars at the center of the action. Racecar driver and movie star, who'd have thought our worlds were similar?

I eyed Lucas. “I get the similarities. But one of us shows up in the tabloids a whole lot more.” I paused. “One of us dates supermodels.”

“No, one of us wants to date a sexy racecar driver.”

He thinks I'm sexy? He wants to date me?
Both were tough to believe.

Chapter Thirteen

Lucas leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, a move that highlighted his substantial muscles. “I saw you in the tabloids over that wreck with Miles Hanson.”

“Once, because they hated me. Not because I was sleeping with—”

He held up a hand. “If one of us here has dated or slept with supermodels, it must be you. It isn't me.”

He met my blank look, and as I opened my mouth to challenge his statement, he spoke again. “Be careful, Kate. This is where you choose to listen to me or to the bloggers, paparazzi, and anyone courting fame by making things up about people they don't know.”

He had a point. I'd had my own run-ins with the great, uninformed public. I knew better than to trust the anonymous hordes online that lived for gossip, innuendo, and criticism. I also heard what Lucas didn't say. This was where I chose if we'd be friends—or more—or not. I studied him: stunningly attractive, intently focused on me, and interested. And one of the top twenty most famous people in the world in that moment.

All at once, I got mad. My problem? I didn't think I was good enough for the perfect, famous man who could have anyone.
What the hell? Screw that.

I straightened my spine. Smiled at him, trying to convey warmth through the anger and self-disgust I felt. I held out my hand. “Lucas from Boise? I'm Kate from Albuquerque. Would you like to have dinner sometime?”

Lucas laughed and drew me up from my seat. “I would love that.” He held onto my hand as we walked out of the building and back to the sound stage. “Next Monday night? Unless you're free tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow I'll be out in Fontana at the speedway. Monday works.”

“It's a date.” He laced his fingers with mine. “Now, tell me about your test tomorrow.”

I felt uncharacteristically giggly about holding hands, and I tried to focus. “Fontana, big oval track. I've only driven smaller ovals and smaller cars. And not often.” I took a deep breath, held it, exhaled. “Tomorrow I'll be in an IndyCar on an oval to start preparations for racing the Indy 500 next year.”

Lucas gave me a crooked, sideways smile. “That's pretty freaking cool. You're kind of a rock star. It sounds like big pressure.”

The butterflies in my gut started circling again. “Some pressure. Some excitement. Nerves. But it'll be good. I can do this.”

He squeezed my hand. “I have no doubt.”

We'd reached Maddie's small trailer outside the soundstage where they were filming, when I remembered Ryan Johnston. I pulled Lucas to a stop and extricated my hand. “You should know something.”

He put his hands on his hips, but didn't speak.

I had to stop myself from blurting out apologies. “I have another date this week.”

“Is that all?” His shoulders relaxed. “I'll be out with someone for a thing on Friday. That's not a real date, but a favor for my agent and another client of his trying to break in. But it'll look like a date for the photos, since that's the point.” He stepped closer to me and looked into my eyes. “Be honest with me, and I'll do the same. Deal?”

I nodded, dazed, and he lowered his head to kiss me. I closed my eyes and tried not to freak out, though the kiss lasted only a moment before he stepped back. I belatedly popped my eyes open to find him grinning at me.

“Looking forward to next Monday.”

I felt my face flush and decided I didn't care. I smiled back. “Me, too.”

He escorted me into Maddie's trailer, where we found her sitting on the small couch, script pages on her lap. She waved us to the small armchairs across from her.

“While I'm thinking about it, Lucas—sorry, Kate, this'll only take a second.” Maddie pointed to the script.

I waved them on, and while they discussed the phrasing and timing of a specific line in the script, I pulled out my phone, remembering the message notices I'd seen.

I had a text message and a voicemail, along with a dozen e-mails that didn't need immediate response. The text from Holly sent my spirits and nerves soaring with her query about how the set visit had gone and her instruction to knock 'em dead at the test session.

The voicemail made my emotions flatline. It was from Nikki Gray. About Billy.
My murdered cousin, cut off in the prime of life while I gallivant around with movie stars.
I'd almost forgotten.

“Kate, it's Nikki.” I heard a yip in the background, and Nikki giggled. “And Pookie. Say hello to the nice lady, Pookie!” A pause, during which, to my great relief, I did
not
hear a dog say “hello.” “Good girl. Anyway, Kate, I wanted to see if you'd discovered any
leads
in poor Billy's murder. I just know you're going to figure this all out for me and dear Don, and I can't thank you enough. Let me know if you need anything from either one of us—oh! I meant to offer you a free salon treatment. Haircut, massage, mani-pedi, whatever you want. My treat at Dino's in Beverly Hills. Call them anytime, they've got your name. Thanks, doll, ciao!”

I stared at my phone, confused, and saved the message. Murder investigation to free salon services seemed like a strange leap, even for Nikki.

“Problem, Kate?” Maddie asked. She and Lucas looked at me with curiosity.

“I agreed to look into something for someone, and she's…high strung?”

“Was this the woman you met with today?” Lucas asked. “The people involved in organizing the race?”

I nodded. “Maddie, did you ever meet anyone with the race organization? Specifically Don Kessberg and Nikki Gray? She'd be memorable.”

Maddie thought a moment. “I know who you mean. Diamonds and a dog?”

Lucas laughed.

“I met her and Don,” Maddie confirmed. “To be fair, the outfit isn't unusual around here, only at the racetrack.”

“Did you ever meet…if they call them cougars, what do they call the younger men?”

Lucas raised both eyebrows. “Prey?”

I was embarrassed. “Did you ever meet Nikki's? Billy?”

“Fair hair? Young and stupidly attractive?”

I shifted in my seat. “I suppose so.”

“I met him.” She eyed me. “Most people would think he was hot. You didn't?”

I grimaced. “He was my cousin, and he was a jerk.”

Lucas asked, “Was?”

“He was killed yesterday, at the track in Long Beach. Nikki and Don are afraid they'll be charged with his murder.”

“How are you involved?” Maddie leaned forward, her eyes wide, script pages forgotten.

“They asked for my help. I know how this works. I've been through it before.”

“Murder investigations?” To his credit, Lucas didn't sound incredulous or disbelieving.

“Three of them. But I'm not doing that here.” I sighed. “It's that I know the racing world, and I know Billy's world, which is partly the bank that's my new, big sponsor and partly my distant family. And of course, I saw the scene when I identified Billy for the police.”

Maddie and Lucas stared at me, mouths open.
Why did you blurt all that out?
“I shouldn't have—don't tell anyone, please.”

“We tell the media nothing,” she assured me. “Your secrets are safe with us.”

Lucas furrowed his brow, and I braced myself for the standard protective-male response. “That's amazing. You'll have to tell me more.”

Surprising.
“I guess.” I turned to Maddie. “You met Billy?”

“He was buzzing around at one point. Trying to make connections, you know? You learn to spot them pretty quickly. I'm sure it's the same for you.”

“The players and the operators. You must see more of them than I do.”

Lucas spoke up. “At least we have people to run interference.”

“Penny dealt with him, so I didn't have to. Talk to her.” Maddie checked her watch and excused herself to change into her next costume.

Lucas pulled me to my feet, then framed my face with both hands and looked into my eyes. “I have so many questions to ask you. You fascinate me, Kate Reilly.”

He kissed me longer and with more emotion this time, making me lose touch with my extremities for a moment. With a smile, he let his hands fall and stepped back. “I'll see you Monday. Take care of yourself and kick ass tomorrow.”

I sank back down into the armchair.

Maddie exited the back room in costume and eyed me. “I take it things are going well?”

I managed another nod.

She laughed. “I guess so. Lucky for you, he's a good kisser.”

Okay,
that
was strange.