The Postman Always Purls Twice (10 page)

“You know how eager the volunteer firemen are around here. They send ten trucks out for the least little thing.”

Suzanne nodded, then slowed down as they drew closer. A police officer stood in the middle of the road, flagging down cars.

Lucy suddenly smelled smoke. Suzanne sniffed the air, too.

“That smells like a lot more than toast,” Suzanne said bleakly.

It did, Lucy had to admit. An acrid scent, like burned rubber. Or something electrical. Not pleasant at all.

“I hope no one was hurt,” Lucy said, trying to remind Suzanne of what was really important right now. “The ambulance is still here. That's a good sign.”

“You're so right. Of course I don't want to find the house burned to a shell . . . since I did persuade that couple to rent it to the movie people . . . but as long as nobody's hurt. That's the main thing. If I'm washed up as a realtor, well . . . so what. I can just leave town, change my name, and start a new life somewhere else.”

“Let's find out what happened before you go into deep cover.”

Just beyond the police car, a long fire truck that was not in use, as well as an ambulance, blocked the view of the entire scene, but Lucy got the idea. A large number of the film crew members milled around in the street, along with some curious neighbors.

The police officer walked up to the SUV and Suzanne rolled down her window. “This road is closed right now, ma'am. Do you live down here?”

“No . . . but I was coming to this house, Officer. I have to get on the property and see what happened.”

“Are you the owner?” He stared at her curiously.

“I'm a real-estate agent and I represent the owners. They're away right now. I rented the house to a movie company and I have to see if there's any damage. Was the fire very bad?”

Suzanne had started off in a reasonable, professional tone which quickly deteriorated, finally bordering on hysteria. But her concern seemed to sway the officer, who considered her question . . . and how much he might tell.

“No damage to the house. The fire was out here . . . in one of the movie trailers.” He waved his hand in the direction of the fire truck. Lucy still couldn't see past it, but did notice a thin plume of smoke rising some distance down the road.

“A trailer? Was anyone hurt?” Suzanne asked quickly.

The officer shook his head. “No injuries.”

“Can I just come out a second and speak to the location manager, Lyle Boyd? I need to get some information to tell the property owners, even though the house wasn't affected,” she said quickly.

Was that really true? Suzanne's explanation sounded good, but somehow Lucy doubted it. Suzanne probably just wanted to check out the situation firsthand . . . and make sure Heath O'Hara was safe and sound.

“Can I see some ID?” he asked. Suzanne quickly handed over her license, then turned to Lucy. “Give me your license, Lucy. The police officer has to see it.”

“But . . .”

“We work together. She's in training,” Suzanne fibbed to the officer. He didn't seem to care. Lucy actually did feel like she was in training when she went off with Suzanne on one of her adventures. Training for what, she wasn't quite sure.

He quickly checked her ID and handed it back.

“You can park over there.” He pointed to a space across the road, next to a stand of beach grass.

“Thank you, Officer,” Suzanne said sincerely. She closed her window and swung the big vehicle around. “I'm so relieved that no one was hurt. But I really want to see what happened . . . don't you?”

“I guess so,” Lucy replied, hardly sharing her friend's enthusiasm. “Or we could wait for the local news. I'm sure they'll have the story . . . Look, there's a TV truck.”

A white van that said “News Five—Alive!” on the side drove off, headed for town. There probably was not much left to see, if they were leaving.

“They have to report this tonight on TV. But we have a higher authority to answer to.” Suzanne checked the time. “Let's dig up the dirt and go back to Maggie's shop for lunch.”

“I have to get back to my office. I think you have to file this story on your own.”

“Okay, I'll handle it. But we're here now—let's get the details. I promised you an adventure, didn't I? Isn't this more fun than designing a brochure for a nursing home?”

“It's ‘assisted living at its finest.' But you have a point,” Lucy conceded.

Lucy and Suzanne climbed out of the SUV and walked back toward the police officer. He was talking to the driver of another car and waved the two women forward.

Suzanne glanced at Lucy and poked her with an elbow as she started to speed-walk. “Pick up the pace, before he changes his mind.”

Lucy followed her lead, though Suzanne was a speedy rabbit when she put her mind to it. Even in her black heels.

The road was wet with a stream of water that grew wider and wider as they approached the fire truck, and Lucy was mindful to avoid the puddles. They soon reached a truck, where firemen were putting away their equipment and a few had already climbed on board.

On the other side of the fire-fighting equipment, they saw some members of the movie crew standing about, watching the last of the firefighters at work. There were more of the boxy movie equipment trucks on both sides of this portion of the road and a row of fancy trailers used by the film stars.

The house was barely visible from the road, just a few jutting pieces. It did look like a pile of boxes set one on the other, at off-kilter angles, plenty of balconies and decks, as Suzanne had mentioned. The landscaping along the road and private drive hinted at the luxury beyond, with a wide trellis of green vines and tiered layers of plantings. Spring flowers flourished, banks of tulips and daffodils, already in bloom.

Lucy turned back to the trailers. The fire had obviously been in the last trailer in the line. The back of the vehicle was charred and a thin plume of smoke rose from a hole in the roof, from the open door, and from the rear windows, which had been broken. Sudsy white foam puddled nearby.

Suzanne sighed. “What a mess. Thank goodness no one was hurt.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I wonder whose trailer that is?”

Before Lucy could answer, Suzanne was on the move again. “There's Lyle. Let's ask him.” Lucy quickly followed as Suzanne trekked off to catch the location manager.

“Lyle . . . what happened? Whose trailer is that?” Suzanne asked breathlessly.

“Heath's. But he's all right,” he added quickly. Though not fast enough to prevent Suzanne's gasp of terror.

“Oh no! Are you sure? Where is he now?” She quickly looked around, as if searching for one of her own children.

“He fine,” Lyle answered quickly. “The trailer was empty but somebody smelled the smoke and called the fire department. They got here pretty quickly, before it could spread.”

“Wow . . . close call.” Suzanne laughed off her crazy reaction. “So the house is all right?” she asked again. Of course she was nervous about that and wanted to make sure.

“The house is fine. You can't even smell the smoke up there. Well, we didn't when it started. It wasn't much. Just annoying for everyone now. I guess if Heath was in there asleep it could have been a problem,” Lyle mused. “Now it's just another production delay. What are you guys doing here anyway? Did you get cleared to come on the set again?”

Trying to meet Heath O'Hara, Lucy knew was the truth of the matter. She stood silently and waited for Suzanne's answer.

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop off your copies of the addendum to the rental agreement. But now I forgot all about that. The envelope is in the car . . . I'll run back and get it.”

Lyle shrugged. “That's all right. You can just scan it and send me an email.”

“Right . . . will do.” Suzanne nodded.

“So . . . thanks for coming by. I'll watch for your email.” He smiled, obviously trying to get rid of them.

“Right . . . See you, Lyle,” Suzanne said brightly, starting to walk away. Lucy sensed that her friend felt defeated underneath her cheery smile. Was she going to give up this easily?

Lyle watched them; making sure they went straight back to their car? Suzanne was about to say something as they walked away when they heard voices coming from a trailer that was parked on the other side of the road.

The door of the trailer opened and one of the security guards came down the steps, looked around, and waited. Lucy and Suzanne waited, too, watching without saying a word.

Trina Hardwick soon appeared in the doorway, clutching a papery-thin blanket around her shoulders, the kind given out in emergency scenes. Her long, thick hair fell across her face in a seductive tangle, her mascara smeared in dark circles around her eyes. Below the blanket, her legs were bare. Lucy thought she saw the edge of a short pink robe, but it was hard to tell. It didn't seem she was wearing much beside the blanket and a smug expression.

Trina hopped down the steps, followed by a security guard, then scampered across the street and disappeared into another trailer.

Lucy turned to comment on the sight, but Suzanne gripped her arm, pressing her free hand to her chest. “Look who
else
is in there,” she whispered.

Heath O'Hara opened the door a crack and poked his head out. Then the rest of him emerged. He wore an outfit similar to Trina's, the same sort of blanket draped around his shoulders. Shirtless underneath, he also wore a pair of jeans that were curiously miles too big and gripped the waistband with one hand as he walked down the steps, barefoot.

“Matching outfits,” Lucy murmured. “That's cute.”

“Those jeans look like loaners,” Suzanne added. “I bet they belong to Nick Pullman.”

“Or maybe Victor?” Lucy added, noticing the security guard who followed Heath from the trailer and led him across the street, to the same trailer Trina had entered.

Lucy turned to Suzanne. “We did see Heath O'Hara without a shirt on. I wouldn't call the trip a total loss.”

“Not by a long shot,” Suzanne agreed. “Though I hate to think he and Trina have something going on. That's what it looks like.”

“Maybe they were rehearsing a scene?”

Suzanne gave Lucy a look. “You are naive. But I mean it in a good way. It's sort of cute.”

“All I'm saying is, you can't assume. And what's the difference to us anyway?”

“Agreed.” Suzanne nodded as they headed back to her SUV. “And all I'm saying is, if it looks like a duck, and it walks like a duck—who waddles by with practically no clothes on.
Twice
—it's probably two ducks who were in bed together. But not in Heath's trailer.”

She smiled and shrugged. Lucy just laughed. It was hard to argue with Suzanne's circuitous logic.

A few minutes later, as Suzanne cruised through Lucy's neighborhood, Lucy felt the tug of her deadline pulling her back to her office. But the workday was too far gone to be recouped, she reasoned. “I'll just drink a lot of coffee and work tonight,” she told Suzanne.

“That a girl. There's a reason you have your own business, Lucy,” Suzanne reminded her as they sped off toward the village.

“There is. Though I'm fairly certain it has nothing to do with goofing off in order to chase movie stars.”

Suzanne laughed. “Sounds like a perfect reason to me.”

A short time later, they were at the Black Sheep Knitting Shop, eating take-out salads as they sat side by side in the small knitting nook to the left of the entrance.

Maggie had just finished teaching a class, Spring Fling: Felted Flowers. Most of her students left quickly, though Lucy noticed that two lingered at the back table, looking over pattern books. Maggie left them to bustle up front with her knitting and a cup of tea. She dropped with a sigh into the wing chair. “The coast is clear. I have a few minutes before the next class. Are we waiting for Dana?”

“She's with a patient. We'll have to fill her in later,” Lucy said.

“She'll see it on the news tonight. But we have the inside story. Inside Trina Hardwick's trailer, you might say. Where there's smoke, there's fire.”

Maggie cocked her head. “That all sounds very titillating, but I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about. Can you tone down the celebrity gossip slang a bit?”

Lucy laughed. “We went to the house where the movie company is filming. Suzanne wanted to drop off some papers for Lyle Boyd. When we got there, there were fire trucks and an ambulance. There'd been a fire in one of the trailers.”

“In Heath's trailer,” Suzanne continued. “And we were so worried about him when we heard—”

“I wasn't worried,” Lucy scoffed.

Suzanne gave her a look. “Yes you were, but that's besides the point . . .”

“The point being, he wasn't in his trailer?” Maggie guessed.