“What do you mean?” Keely asked.
Mac glanced up at her. “Each movie we’ve done together, I pick him up at 4 AM. We do our workout, eat pancakes at the same place for good luck that first morning, then head to the studio. Beau texted me last night to go without him. That he’d see me on set instead. I thought it odd at the time but now that he’s not here, I’m worried.”
Josh frowned. “He’s in almost every scene today.”
“Except for two,” Keely said. “The call sheet had Eric doing two by himself. That serial killer talking to himself and doing creepy things kind of stuff. Could you start with those until Beau gets here? Maybe he’s been in a fender bender,” she suggested, giving the actor the benefit of the doubt.
The director nodded. “Good thinking, Keely. We’ll do that.”
“I’m going over to Beau’s,” Mac said. “It’s not like him. Sure, he can be an asshole to everyone around him but when he’s in character, he’s a professional. I know his gate code. Let me go check on him.”
“I’ll go with you,” she offered. “My scenes are all with Beau. No reason to sit around here. Let’s go.”
Keely walked out with Mac, surprised that she’d been so bold. Something about this guy interested her, though. Getting to spend a little time with him intrigued her.
As they crossed the soundstage, he asked, “No Jax with you?”
“He’s in my trailer for now. He pretty much goes everywhere with me. Except the shower. Basenjis are not fond of water. They’re like cats and bathe themselves.”
“Jax is welcome. You can’t mess up a truck. Now, if I’d brought my Jag, that would be a different matter altogether.”
“I dated a guy in high school who restored an XJ8.”
“Impressive. That’s a classic.”
“The car might’ve been. Not the guy. I wasn’t cool enough for him.”
Mac gave her a sideways look. “Somehow, I doubt that. Keely Kennedy not cool?”
She laughed. “In middle school, I was all braces and glasses and gawky limbs. An ugly duckling at its worst. My arms and legs went every which way except where I wanted them to go. By the time high school rolled around, the braces were gone and I’d gotten contacts. I was, however, a band geek. Everyone knows jocks and band geeks don’t mix.”
They reached his truck and Mac thoughtfully opened her door. She got in and Mac shut the door and came around to the driver’s seat.
“So, this idiot jock dumped you?” The glance he gave her caused a chill to ripple down her spine.
“Dumped me, he did. The day before homecoming, no less. Would’ve been a waste of a good dress but Mom hadn’t let me clip the price tag off yet. She made me take it back to the mall, which just killed me. Said returning it would build character.”
Keely hadn’t thought about that in a long time. Her mom had died shortly before Keely’s senior year in college. She’d probably rolled over in her grave when her daughter chucked a steady career in accounting for the bohemian life of an actor.
They talked easily as Mac drove, chatting about sports and current events. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed around a guy.
“You’re really easy to talk to,” she observed.
“All the girls say that,” Mac quipped.
“I’m being serious.”
“Really?” He laughed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve talked with a woman. Since a woman’s even ridden in my truck.”
“Are you gay?”
“No. Just a loner.”
Keely thought maybe he might be lonely, too. She heard something in his voice that reminded her of herself.
They turned into Beverly Hills and, five minutes later, arrived at what she assumed was Beau Braxton’s house. Mac punched in a code and the gates swung open. He pulled up the driveway and into the circle in front of the mansion. She opened her door and accompanied Mac to the front door.
He rang the doorbell. “Today’s Monday. Usually Maria, Beau’s housekeeper, is here by now. Don’t see her beat-up Honda, though.” When no one answered, he fiddled with his keyring and inserted a key into the lock.
“Beau must really trust you,” she commented.
He shrugged. “I guess. Actually, Beau should put in a revolving door for all the women that come in and out. The key’s just a convenience,” he explained. “Sometimes, I have to wake him up to go work out. Beau likes the results of a hard workout but not having to get up early to get the workout in during filming.”
Keely had also heard rumors about Braxton’s legendary drinking. “You mean he’s sleeping off a binge and you drag him from bed.”
“Something like that.”
“This is not a good way to start this film. Sydney runs a tight ship.”
“Beau’s good when he’s filming. Eats clean. Doesn’t drink much. It’s just in-between roles that he’s got a problem.”
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.