Hollywood Double: Hollywood Name Game Book 4 Page 3

  They entered the foyer and Mac called out Beau’s name. When no one answered, he said, “I’ll check the house. You want to try the pool and pool house? Sometimes, I’ve found him out there.”

  “Sure,” she agreed.

  Keely went outside and saw no one there. She entered the pool house, which was a two-bedroom place with a den and kitchen, and found it empty. She went back to the main house, entering through the kitchen. A purse, water bottle, and set of keys sat on the island and she guessed the housekeeper had finally arrived. Not seeing Mac downstairs, she started up the stairs, hoping Beau wasn’t on a bender—or worse. She hadn’t seen any evidence of his rumored drug use during their table read. Josh had skipped rehearsals and moved straight into filming because they were already behind schedule. She wondered if Beau might be nervous because of that and had tried liquid courage—or worse—to get ready for today.

  Suddenly, a piercing scream sounded.

  CHAPTER 2

  Mac made a quick pass through the bottom floor. He noticed used wine glasses on the counter and a half-bottle of opened wine sitting on the island. Though he didn’t see lipstick on either glass, he had a good idea Beau had entertained last night and that’s why he’d canceled their morning workout. It disappointed him. Beau could easily have a better career if he dedicated himself to his craft. It seemed the actor was happy making a film a year and then playing the rest of the time, squandering whatever he made without saving a dime. Most of the time they went out for breakfast, Mac paid the tab. He could’ve charged Beau for acting as his trainer but figured he would never get paid so he skipped that when Beau once suggested it. Besides, Beau was an investment for Mac. If the actor was working that mean Mac was, too. Beau’s agent booked good films with even better directors. Mac had met some interesting people working on films Beau did. If Beau screwed up Murder at Magic Hour, Mac would be out of a job. Not for long, but he liked having steady work as Beau’s stunt double and stand-in.

  He reached the top of the stairs when he heard a key in the front lock and figured Maria had arrived. He didn’t bother calling out a greeting as he headed straight for the master bedroom. Rumpled sheets let him know Beau had slept in the bed at some point, probably with last night’s mystery woman because Mac sniffed and caught a faint hint of perfume still in the air. He bent and inhaled one pillowcase and got a stronger scent that wafted toward him. It was a heavy musk, not to his taste, but then women weren’t his thing these days.

  They hadn’t been since Ellen’s betrayal.

  Mac continued through the gigantic bedroom suite, which had a sitting area where Beau liked to read scripts or stretch out on an enormous sofa in front of a big screen TV. A treadmill stood in the corner. Most blue collar workers’ houses were smaller than this suite. He reached the door to the bathroom and heard running water. Good. At least Beau was in the shower. Hopefully, it would jumpstart the actor enough so Mac could chew his ass out and get him bundled into the car and to the studio before Josh Middleton freaked and called Sydney Revere. That would not be good.

  Sydney had a reputation for keeping to a tight schedule. As a working mom, she was picky about the projects she chose and was noted for bringing films in early and under budget. Even though she wasn’t directing Murder at Magic Hour, she served as its executive producer. Her production company, RCDS, which she ran with her husband and Rhett and Cassie Corrigan, had an impeccable reputation and made good money with a variety of projects. Beau didn’t need to get on Sydney’s bad side, much less on the first day of this shoot.

  He decided Beau might stand under the shower all day if Mac didn’t go in and light a fire under the actor. He didn’t bother knocking, knowing it wouldn’t be heard over the running water.

  Mac stepped inside and came to a halt, spying a bloody baseball bat lying on the black and white tile. His stomach lurched as his eyes moved to the right. The shower was large enough to hold a party in and all eight jets shot full blast.

  Beau Braxton lay on its floor, beaten to a pulp, his eyes staring out into nothingness.

  Mac’s first thought was that evidence might be washing away. He turned and grabbed a hand towel, wrapping it around the handle of the glass door and leaning in to shut off the water. Moving back, he placed the towel on the counter and pulled out his phone to call 911. His hand shook and he closed his eyes, trying to compose himself.

  Seeing death was never easy. Especially when it was a friend.

  He’d seen enough death during his military tours. Each day he awoke, he had consciously turned off a switch—what he thought of as his humanity switch—before he even left his cot. Knowing today might be the day he bit the bullet or someone around him did. Seeing death on a daily basis had hardened him. He moved like a machine, tamping down his emotions, always keeping the mission in mind.

  That had been then. Mac never thought he would see another dead body once he returned stateside, much less that of a friend.

  Opening his eyes again, he stared at Beau, who had been so full of life. He allowed the anger to flow through him, knowing someone had done this to Beau and that someone needed to be caught and punished. Mac swallowed, calming himself. Feeling steadier now, he touched his phone’s screen to call 911.

  An ear-shattering scream sounded behind him and he whipped around.

  “You kill Mr. Beau!” accused Maria, her face twisted in horror.

  “No. I just found him now. He didn’t show up for work.”

  “You say no. But you kill him.” She made the sign of the cross and stumbled, leaning heavily against the counter.

  Mac placed a hand on her shoulder. “You and I live in the real world, Maria. Doors don’t magically open for us. People don’t buy us dinners and give us cars to drive and clothes to wear. Beau Braxton was just as much my meal ticket as yours. There’s no way I’d kill him.”

  Maria slowly nodded, understanding washing over her. “I know you good, Mr. Mac. Sorry.” She glanced toward the dead body and shuddered.

  He took her elbow to guide her from the bathroom and saw Keely had arrived. She stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes on Beau. Her lips moved but nothing came out.

  Mac turned to Maria. “Go downstairs. I’ll call 911. Make a big pot of coffee and some hot tea.” He thought giving the housekeeper something to do would help her begin to function. Plus, within minutes, the house would be full of police and paramedics.

  She nodded and slipped around the still unmoving Keely.

  Mac guided Keely away, taking her to the sofa and nudging her onto it. He leaned her back until she was lying down and tossed the throw hanging on the back of the sofa over her to keep her warm. He’d seen different kinds of shock in the army, sometimes hypovolemic from bleeding soldiers versus neurogenic shock from severe emotional disturbance. Both cut off the supply of oxygen to the brain and lowered blood pressure. Keeping Keely prone with her heart level and warm were important.

  He dialed 911 and gave the dispatcher his name and Beau’s address, along with the gate code, and told her that he discovered the occupant’s body in what looked like a homicide. Mac deliberately kept Beau’s name from the call, knowing how many people scanned emergency channels, including the paparazzi. He also informed the dispatcher that his companion had mostly likely gone into shock and would need an ambulance and then ended the call.

  By now, Keely was sitting up, color returning to her face. She pushed the throw aside and stood.

  Mac rose to his feet. “Whoa, just wait a minute.”

  She looked unsteady and he wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face against his chest, gripping his shirt in her fists.

  They were a perfect fit.

  He pushed that thought aside as he ran his hands up and down her slender back, continuing to warm her, murmuring calm, soothing words that he doubted she heard. After a minute, she pulled away, wriggling from his hold. Mac wanted to envelope her again. He’d never experienced such a strong desire to hold a woman before—and it scared the hell ou
t of him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I was hardcore military and have seen my share of pretty awful things. You’re a civilian confronted with something no one should ever have to see.”

  She clasped her hands tightly in front of her. “Give me a minute.”

  Mac watched as she closed her eyes. She stood utterly still. He wondered what she did.

  Keely didn’t move for a good two minutes. Then she inhaled deeply and slowly let out the breath. Her eyes opened. Where before they had been glassy and unfocused, they were now clear.

  “I’m fine,” she told him.

  He was amazed by the transformation. Moments ago, she could barely stand on her own. Now, she appeared totally composed, as if a different woman had taken her place.

  “I thought you’d gone into shock.”

  She gave him a wry smile. “Seeing a dead body can do that.”

  Mac still had the urge to touch her so he reached out and grasped her elbow. “Let’s go downstairs. The police are on their way.” He paused. “You’re sure you’re okay? You seemed as if you were in a trance.”

  “I am. I . . . have an aversion to blood. Movie blood doesn’t bother me in the least because I know it’s fake. It’s real-life blood that knocks the socks off me.”

  Leading her from the bedroom suite, he said, “You had me worried.”

  “I’m fine now. Really. I’ve always been good at compartmentalizing things. If I don’t want to think about Beau and that last image of him, I won’t. At least for now. When I’m alone tonight, that will be the time I process things. I had an acting coach that taught me to learn to be in the moment and leave everything else behind. It takes an enormous amount of self-discipline.” She smiled. “I’m actually pretty good in a crisis because of that. The last earthquake is a good example. It happened on the set while we were filming. Everyone fell apart except me.”

  Keely paused. “Thank you for taking care of me. If we ever have that coffee date, the first cup will be on me.”

  They went downstairs and he led Keely into the first room off the foyer, sitting next to her on a large sofa. Out the window, Mac saw Maria pacing outside, smoking.

  “Would you like a glass of water?” he asked.

  “No.” She frowned. “I’m no fan of Beau’s but who would want to do something like that? I thought he was a real jerk but I don’t understand that kind of violence.”

  Sirens sounded in the background and Mac knew the police would arrive soon. Without thinking it through, he reached and took Keely’s hand. Her fingers still seemed cold as he wrapped his around hers. Their eyes met.

  “It’ll be okay. We’ll answer their questions and get out of here.”

  Keely shook her head. “It’s far from okay, Mac. Though I’m sick about Beau’s death, the practical side of me realizes with my leading man dead, this film might be dead in the water.” She sighed. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been on a project that’s been canceled. The last time it happened to me, it turned out well because it freed me to make Shadow of Suspicion with Knox Monroe. Maybe there’ll be a silver lining in this.”

  “You were great in that,” he told her. “After I saw it, I went back to see what else you’d done. I was in the army during my entire twenties and missed out on things in pop culture. Films. Songs. Trends. Going back and watching your work was a real pleasure. You’re very talented, Keely.”

  She blushed at the compliment and he thought at least this was one actress who hadn’t let fame go to her head.

  Flashing lights outside the window caught his attention as two squad cars and an ambulance pulled up, along with two dark sedans and a large van. He assumed those contained detectives and crime scene techs. They killed the sirens and doors quickly swung open. One policeman escorted Maria back inside. Reluctantly, Mac released Keely’s hand as they stood and watched a flood of people enter the house.

  A pair in plainclothes led the parade inside. A chunky blond woman greeted them as she flashed her badge. “I’m Detective Mariel Briggs.” She indicated the Black man next to her. “This is my partner, Detective Zeke Washington. Are you Mac Randall?”

  “I am. I called it in. The deceased, Beau Braxton, is upstairs.”

  Quickly, Mac explained why they’d come to the residence and how he’d found Beau, noting that he’d turned off the water, hoping that some evidence might somehow be preserved.

  “Stay here,” Briggs ordered. “We’ll want to interview you.”

  The paramedics came in and looked around. “Someone’s in shock?” one asked.

  “No, I was wrong about that.”

  “He meant me,” Keely said. “I was very surprised seeing my co-worker’s dead body and a lot of blood. I’m fine now. You should go upstairs. The victim is in the master bath.”

  Mac noticed the paramedics both recognized her but didn’t say anything as they left. He guessed that’s how you handled your job if you worked in Beverly Hills. By now, a policeman had escorted Maria inside and took her into another room. Mac knew all three of them would need to make statements.

  Keely slipped her phone from her pocket and began scrolling through her contacts.

  “Shouldn’t we wait before we tell anyone?” Mac asked.

  “The news will break soon enough. Sydney needs to know now. I’ll make it quick. I’ll put it on speaker so you can add anything you might think of.”

  He listened as she spoke to the producer, briefly filling her in about Braxton’s death and that they were about to be interviewed by the police.

  “I’d contact Beau’s manager and agent, Sydney. They need to be prepared to meet with the police and issue a statement. You also need to let Josh know. He was going to shoot a couple of scenes with Eric this morning.” Keely paused. “I know by losing Beau we might lose our financial backing.”

  “I can deal with the money end of things, Keely, but not another delay. We’ve already had to find a new director. Replacing Beau will be a nightmare, especially since we need someone now.” Sydney groaned. “Josh is going to freak out. Okay, think. Beau beat out two other guys for the Thorne Mayfield role, Brad Willis and Finn Jarvis. I know Brad’s in Vancouver shooting a new series. Do you know about Finn? He would need a lot of direction because he’s really lacking in experience but—”

  “Sydney, I have a crazy idea.”

  “I’m all about the crazy. It’s worked for me before. Hey, I’m the first-time director who fired Marlyn November and replaced her with you. That turned out to be a blessing for both of us. Spill, Keely. I’m open to anything.”

  “What about hiring Beau’s stunt double and stand-in—Mac Randall?”

  Mac’s head whipped around. Keely’s hand slipped to his knee and gave him a squeeze.

  “That might work,” Sydney said thoughtfully. “I know he’s done a few films with Beau. We worked on the last one together. Mac continually fed Beau his lines, so the guy knew them, but a stuntman? Can he act?”

  “There’s lots of action in this film,” Keely noted. “Maybe Cassie could tinker and rewrite a few scenes. I can take on more dialogue. It’s worth a shot.”

  Sydney chuckled. “You’re right. Either this’ll save the film—or kill it. Bring Mac by the house when you’re done with the police. Let me talk to him. I want to get a feel for him. See if he’d be interested. I also need to see how he’ll look on camera. In real life, he’s got the kind of rugged looks that make women swoon but sometimes it doesn’t translate to screen.”

  Keely grinned at Mac. “You’ll be impressed. He’s smart. Articulate. He’ll be able to handle it.”

  “I’ll get in touch with Josh and have him come over. Rhett and Cassie, too. Since this is an RCDS production, we should all make a decision this important together. Take care, Keely. See you soon.”

  “Bye.”

  She hung up and smiled at him, a hint of mischief in it.

  “Are you insane?” he asked, his heard t
humping wildly, partly from her hand on his knee and the rest from thinking his life had done a huge one–eighty in seconds.

  “You can do this, Mac. I’ll be with you. Every step of the way.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The police separated Mac from Keely and took them to separate rooms for their statements. He found it odd since they’d left the two of them together while they’d gone upstairs to view the crime scene but he didn’t question them. The sooner their questions ended, the sooner they’d be out of here.

  That thought really shook him up.

  He wondered why Keely had pitched the idea of him replacing Beau in the film, especially when another actor’s name who’d been in consideration had been mentioned. He would ask her about that.

  And if she was free tonight. Any night. Day or night.

  Mac couldn’t understand why this woman turned his head until it was spinning like something out of The Exorcist. She wasn’t his usual type. He liked his women blond, tan, curvy, and short. Keely had a few curves along her lean, athletic body but she was tall, fair-skinned, and had hair that shone like liquid caramel. Still, preferences could change. Maybe the attraction was because she was so different from his ex-wife. Or it might be the energy that surrounded Keely, humming under the surface. She’d proven to be quick in conversation and had a good sense of humor during their conversation on the way to Beau’s.

  He wanted to kiss her so bad that it hurt.

  Mac pushed that thought aside. If they worked together—and the emphasis was on if—he didn’t need to be involved with her off-screen. A romantic relationship with a co-worker never worked out. He wouldn’t admit this to anyone but Mac wanted to land this role. To try something new. Something that frightened him and excited him and could open new avenues. He’d done stunts for four years now and had the aches and pains to prove it. Moving into acting would keep him in the business in a very different capacity. Still, he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Murder at Magic Hour was a big-budget production. The chance of him stepping into the very famous shoes of Beau Braxton were small.