Don't Look Down

Chapter 5

Pepper looked from Lucy to her mother and back again. "Okay," she said and picked up the comic, her root beer, four cheese sticks, and two Hershey bars, which she neatly slid into the comic before Daisy noticed. Then she staggered down the three-foot passage to the bed, balancing everything, and climbed up onto the mattress.

"Good picture," Daisy said, nodding at the book, and Lucy looked down to see Wonder Woman gazing soulfully into the eyes of the guy in uniform.

Betrayed by an icon, Lucy thought and shut the book. "So I have some questions."

Daisy leaned back in her chair and drank from her root beer bottle, the combination of the bottle and her hat blocking her face. "Me too. Like what about this Green Beret who's bringing you presents?"

"So I get to the set today," Lucy said, pushing the book away, "and I don't have the full script, I'm missing three-quarters of my personnel, the people I do have are moving at half speed, and everybody seems surprised when I ask them to do more than one take. Plus they all keep saying this is my big break."

"It is." Daisy leaned forward clumsily, almost knocking over her root beer bottle. "This will get people's attention. No more dog food commercials. Maybe you and Connor-"

Lucy moved the bottle out of her way. "Okay, first, shooting four days of stunts is not going to get anybody's attention. This is just cleanup work, which I am doing for the money. Second, I do a lot of different kinds of commercials, not just dog food." Lucy picked up her root beer, trying not to sound annoyed. "Third, I'm good at working with animals, I'm famous for it, and I make a damn good living at it. Fourth, I like what I do. Feature work is insane, you're always away from home, the shoots are long, and they're a logistical nightmare." She stopped, realizing her voice had risen. She looked back over her shoulder and saw Pepper watching her from the bed. "It's not a real life, Daisy. You can't have a home and do that."

"It's real," Daisy said, her face flushed. "It's-"

"And it's particularly not real for a five-year-old," Lucy said, dropping her voice so Pepper couldn't hear. "I know you're doing a great job of homeschooling her, she's smart as a whip, but she needs to be with other kids. She's lonely. Come back to New York with me, get a steady job, put her in kindergarten there, and we'll both take care of her. Dragging her with you was fine when she was a baby, but she's five now-"

Daisy's chin went up. "She's fine. The shoot is fine. Everything's fine. I can take care of myself and her."

"No," Lucy said, in too far to stop. "Pepper's unhappy and you're dull and miserable and you're making mistakes-you who never missed a detail." She waited for Daisy to say, Oh, that's the allergy meds I'm taking, but Daisy just slid her eyes away. "And it's not just you, this set is a mess. There's something bad going on here, and I'm betting you know what it is. And I'm betting it's the same thing that's making you miserable."

Daisy chugged the rest of her root beer, still not meeting Lucy's eyes.

"You think I'm not going to find out what's going on?" Lucy said, holding on to her temper. "I know we haven't seen each other much in the past couple of years, but you can't have forgotten me that much."

"I haven't forgotten you at all," Daisy said, and Lucy couldn't read her voice.

"I'm going to be here another three days, I've got Gloom with me, how long do you think it's going to be before we know everything? Do you want me to find out from somebody else?"

Daisy shifted in her chair. "It's not a big deal. They were running out of money and Connor brought in a backer named Finnegan who wanted all this stunt stuff added to the end of the movie. So we're a little disorganized because it was all put in at the last minute." Daisy pulled the Wonder Woman book over to her side of the table. "So does Wonder Woman have a boyfriend?"

"That wouldn't make you sick and miserable." Lucy leaned forward. "That wouldn't put you on drugs." Daisy jerked her eyes up.

"I'm not… I don't do that stuff, Lucy."

"What stuff? You're on something, I can see it in your eyes, in the way you move."

"It's not coke or anything," Daisy said, her voice tired.

"Prescription meds count," Lucy said, exasperated. "Who are you kidding? Come on, Daisy, let me help you. You know I can. I always have. I can get you out of whatever trouble you're in, off whatever stuff you're on. Tell me."

Daisy shook her head. "I'm fi-"

"Stop saying that,"Lucy snapped. "This isn't just about you; you've got Pepper so worried she's crying to me on the phone."

Daisy shook her head, her eyes blurring with tears.

"Wonder Woman is in love with Captain Steve Trevor," Pepper said from behind Lucy's shoulder, and Lucy jumped.

"Hey, baby," she said, and Daisy straightened, too, pasting on a smile. "Did you finish the comic book?"

"I looked through it." Pepper put the comic on the table. "There was some good stuff. But she always gets tied up. She gets tied up a lot."

"She does?" Daisy reached for the book.

"She still wins in the end." Pepper sat down in her chair again and kicked the Jax Comix bag. "Sorry." She leaned over it. "There's something else in there." She reached in and pulled out a shiny white folder. "Oh, cool. Stickers."

Lucy leaned to see but kept Daisy in the corner of her eye. She looked like hell, worse than when she'd come in. Damn it, Lucy thought, and then Pepper thrust the folder under her nose, saying, "Look!"

The cover said wonder woman ultimate sticker book over a picture of a beefy Wonder Woman with Angelina Jolie lips, standing with her legs spread and her hands on her hips, looking very snotty.

"This must be the eighties version," Lucy said, still keeping an eye on Daisy. "I think she was a cupcake in the sixties."

"She could crack walnuts with those thighs." Daisy leaned over to look, ignoring Lucy.

"Walnuts?" Pepper said, looking up from her book.

"Nice bracelets," Daisy said hastily.

"She catches bullets on them." Pepper went back to the book. "And the magic lasso makes people tell her the truth. She lassos them and they say, 'I am strangely compelled to tell you the truth.' That means they have to."

"That would be handy," Lucy said, looking at Daisy.

"Well, sometimes it's bad," Pepper said, "because they tie her up with it. But she always wins."

"My kind of woman." Lucy watched Pepper's serious little face pore over the sticker book. Pepper knew something was wrong, she was too serious, too intent on the book. So no more talking to Daisy with Pepper in earshot. Dumb, she told herself. You should have waited. Except there were no times with Daisy that were without Pepper. And she was already afraid she'd waited too long.

"I bet Wonder Woman could even beat Moot," Pepper said.

Lucy looked at her, surprised. "Don't you like Moot?"

Pepper looked up. "Moot is an alligator. He's dangerous. Alligators are not pets, they are very big and very fast."

"This is true." Lucy looked at Daisy. "Meant to ask. Animal of the Month?"

Daisy relaxed a little. "She picks an animal every month to learn about." She sighed. "Some are better than others. The Month of the Platypus wasn't pretty."

"People should not feed gators," Pepper said, still looking at her book. "Bryce should not feed Ding Dongs to him. Moot will attack."

Lucy was distracted by the image of Moot dragging Bryce away under the bridge. It was strangely plausible; Bryce was exactly the kind of guy who'd get eaten by an alligator while feeding it snack cakes.

"Let me see the sticker book," Daisy said, reaching across the table.

"It has cool stuff," Pepper said as Daisy took it. "There are all these stickers and then pages to stick them onto."

"Sounds excellent," Lucy said. Good job, Wilder. Who knew a Green Beret would know about stickers? Now, if he only knew how to rescue depressed, drug-addled sisters…

"Like it says she has winged sandals," Pepper said over her root beer, "but I like the boots better. They're like your boots, Aunt Lucy. Sort of. You should paint a white stripe up the front."

Lucy looked down at her snakeskin boots. "No. No white paint on snakeskin."

"I have red rubber rain boots," Pepper said. "Can I paint a white stripe on those?"

"Yes," Daisy said.

"So," Lucy said to Pepper, "why don't you go back and take a nap while your mom and I-"

"Time to go," Daisy said and stood up, sliding the sticker book back to Pepper.

"We just got here," Pepper said, outraged, but Lucy took one look at Daisy's stubborn, drowsy face and gave up for the night.

"It's hours past your bedtime," Daisy said to Pepper. "You can play in Aunt Lucy's camper all afternoon tomorrow if you want."

"No," Pepper said, "I have to be on the set. To bring Aunt Lucy apples. Because Stephanie is worthless."

"Pepper!" Daisy said.

"Okay," Pepper said with a dramatic sigh. "Can I take the Wonder Woman stuff with me?"

"Yes," Daisy said, not meeting Lucy's eyes. "Hurry up."

Pepper packed all her stuff back in the Jax Comix bag, checking first to see that there wasn't anything else in there.

"What are you looking for?" Lucy asked.

"I thought there might be another comic book," Pepper said. "I can read those."

Well, if she couldn't save Daisy tonight, she could at least give Pepper something to look forward to. She took the bag from her and read the stamped address. "I think this place is pretty close. Captain Wilder said he had an appointment someplace nearby, so he must have found it on his way there. How about tomorrow morning, we go look at this place and get you some comics?"

"Just you and me?" Pepper's face lit up.

"Just you and me, baby," Lucy said, relieved to be doing something right. "If that's all right with your mom."

"Yep." Daisy yawned. "First call isn't until one, so I'm sleeping in."

"Thank you, Aunt Lucy," Pepper said, her voice thrilled. "And then I can show Crafty and Estelle in wardrobe and Mary Vanity what I got."

I have to get this kid into school so she can play with somebody under twenty, Lucy thought and then looked at Daisy's strained face. And I'm going to save you, too, you dumb-butt. "I'll pick you up at eleven," she told Pepper, who hugged her and then climbed out of the trailer, the Jax bag clutched to her chest.

Daisy paused in the doorway. "Luce-I'm sorry I asked Connor to call you."

Lucy went very still. "You asked Connor to call me? I thought he'd sicced you on me when I told him no."

Daisy swallowed. "Connor wanted to just finish the shoot. Do it himself. But I told him he'd run into big-time union trouble, what with everyone bailing out after the director died; that he needed a real director. I told him he should call you."

Lucy frowned at her. "Why would you tell him that? You don't care about this movie, nobody here does."

Pepper's voice floated through the night air. "Come on, Mom!"

"I just wanted to see you," Daisy said, trying to smile. "And he did, too. He's never stopped loving you, Lucy."

"That would explain the ten thousand women he has undoubtedly slept with since I left," Lucy said.

"Come on, Mom," Pepper said.

Daisy shook her head and went out the door, and Lucy watched her take Pepper's hand and cross the parking lot to her car.

You told him to call me because you wanted me to save you, she thought. Big sister to the rescue again. So why won't you tell me what's wrong? She slumped back in her chair.

It was her fault. She should have kept a closer watch on Daisy, checked in more often with Pepper. She'd been all caught up in her own life, her career, and hadn't thought-

Well, that was then, this is now. Tomorrow, she'd talk to Gloom, find out what he'd learned talking to the crew, find out what Daisy was taking, solve whatever mess was driving her to take it, talk her into getting Pepper into school…

And she'd have to thank Captain Wilder for the Wonder Woman doll, too. Big day, she thought.

Then she got another root beer and sat down to read the script.

By the time Wilder recrossed the bridge, his hangover had turned into exhaustion despite the hair-of-the-dog beers in the diner. Or perhaps it was just Crawford and the fucking CIA suddenly showing up that had drained all his energy. Whatever the cause, he went back to the Westin to the room Bryce had gotten for him adjacent to his own, grateful to be away from both the CIA and the movie set. Those people were crazy.

But at the door he paused, his hand halfway to the knob that still had the do not disturb tag hanging from it. Someone had been in the room. The telltale piece of clear tape he'd left on the lower-left corner of the door had been broken. Either someone had fucked up and entered by mistake or someone was waiting in there to fuck him up or someone had gone through his stuff, which would just plain be fucked up. His left hand snaked behind his back and he pulled out his Glock automatic pistol, making the decision to fight not flee.

He twisted the knob and entered low and fast, duckwalking, back pressed against the wall, moving to the right, weapon extended, sweeping with the eyes, finger on the trigger. The room was dark, shades pulled tight, but there was someone in there, he could smell… fuck, perfume. Who? He'd caught that scent before. On the set.

"Is that a gun?"

Althea. Wilder slowly rose out of his crouch, as his eyes became accustomed to the dark, the weapon suddenly feeling very heavy as he dropped his hand to his side. "Uh. Yeah." That sounded lame, so he told himself, You're in control. You're the one with the gun, for Christ's sake.

He turned on the light.

She was in his bed, the sheet up to her neck. Had she looked under the bed and found his backpack? He hoped not. She shifted and he smelled perfume again. Perfume had not been in his plans, either.

She smiled at him and ran the tip of her tongue over her lower lip.

Well, plans were made to be changed. They'd taught him that in Ranger School. "Improvise, Ranger," the Ranger instructors had screamed at the starving, sleep-deprived students. But they hadn't covered this kind of ambush.

Still, Wilder thought as he returned the gun to the holster in the middle of his back, an ambush was an ambush. And the U.S. Army Ranger School-approved solution was to assault right into the enemy force with overwhelming power and take control of the situation. Anything else meant being stuck in the kill zone.

Althea half sat up, and the sheet slid, catching on her breasts. "What kind of gun is it?"

Wilder swallowed, frozen. He was in the fucking kill zone. The RIs would have flunked him.

"A Glock." Had that come out wrong? He tried to replay what he'd said, but his brain wouldn't back up, it was going fast-forward.

"A what?" Althea placed a long, thin hand over her chest as she leaned forward, exposing her side and confirming that she wasn't wearing anything.

"A Glock Model 20."

"Can I"-Althea's voice went an octave lower-"touch it?"

Oh, fuck. They might as well get his body bag now. He drew the gun. Some semblance of sanity made him eject the magazine and then pull back the slide, ejecting the round in the chamber and pocketing it before he extended the weapon to her.

She reached with the hand that had been holding the sheet, and- he was so screwed-it dropped to her waist, exposing her breasts. She took the gun from his frozen hand, cradling it with both of hers.

"Tell me about it." She brought the gun closer to her. "I saw you and Bryce talking all night. Talk to me."

"Uh," Wilder said, trying to think of something besides breasts.

"What he did with the knife today. That was stupid, wasn't it?"

"Bryce. Well." Breasts. Right here. "You know. No harm, no foul."

"He could have cut someone."

"But, hey, he didn't." Wilder was starting to sweat.

"Tell me about the gun." Althea cradled it in her slender hands, the muzzle pointing, well, damn, toward her face, her mouth. He'd just handed his gun to someone. Fuck. His buddies at the Special

Warfare Center would be kicking his ass up and down Bragg Boulevard if they knew.

Althea now had one hand cradled around the pistol grip and the other one on the barrel. Stroking it. Not subtle, but Wilder didn't care.

Maybe his buddies wouldn't give him shit. Not if he told them who he'd given the gun to and under what circumstances. LaFavre would be buying him beers. And wanting to hear about it. Not that he would ever tell. There were some things you just didn't talk about. Wilder hated guys who talked. Which was just as well because right now, he was having a hard time forming words.

Althea brought the gun closer to her body, between her breasts, still stroking it, and Wilder made no pretense of not staring. Everything he wanted to see was now in one tight shot.

"Tell me about your gun," Althea said again.

Wilder swallowed. "It holds fifteen rounds of ten millimeter. That's the diameter of the bullet."

"Is that a big bullet?"

Just throw a knife in my throat and have it over with. "It's a good-sized round. Most people carry nine millimeter." He was still staring at her breasts and the gun. "So I went one larger. Like Spinal Tap. You know, the amp turns up to eleven."

Shit, he was showing his age. Get out of the fucking kill zone.

"It's got an integrated laser sight built into the recoil spring guide assembly, uh, there-" He pointed, his hand less than six inches from the gun and her breasts. He was definitely sweating. "-Just below the barrel."

"Oh, you mean the red dotty thing you see in the movies?"

"Yeah. Touching the trigger activates the laser."

"Can I do that?"

Touch the trigger? "Sure. It's safe. I've taken the bullets out." He forced his mind to focus. Had he cleared the chamber?

Althea turned the gun in her hands. She put her finger on the trig-aer. A red dot appeared on the far wall. She pointed the gun at Wilder. The dot was on his chest. "Neat."

Never point a weapon at anyone unless you're going to shoot him. Wilder bit back the words. It would be bad timing. And he had told her it was safe. And he had taken the round out of the chamber, right? Shit. He tapped his pocket and felt the magazine and extra round and resumed breathing.

''What was that double-tap thing you talked about?"

Wilder put two fingers to his forehead. "When you shoot someone, you always fire twice. You want them to go down permanently. So this is the spot."

She nodded.

"You know, the gun is only half the equation." He reached out and retrieved it from her. She looked slightly disappointed and he got a much better look at her breasts. He knew they weren't real, but so what? They were here. In his bed.

He took the magazine and round out of his pocket. He pulled the slide back and put the round in the chamber, letting the slide go forward. Then he put the magazine in. A round in the chamber, not approved for police departments or gun clubs, but Wilder had never been a cop or a member of a gun club.

"I load the rounds myself," he said as he put the gun back in the holster.

"Why?"

"They're hot loads."

Althea laughed and he was mesmerized by the way that made her breasts jiggle. "And what's a hot load, Captain Wilder?"

The way she said his name reminded him of Armstrong. Well, why the hell should he give a shit what Armstrong would think? Bryce said she was doing that asshole Nash. Bryce was doing the makeup girl. Nobody had any morals in this place. When in Rome…

Althea leaned back on the pillows, her nipples pointing up at an im-possible angle, straight at Wilder, her version or designating a target. She had him, he was resigned to it. She might even know something about Finnegan.

She smiled at him.

Although now was not the time to ask. Well, if he had to take one for the team, so be it. He'd been worse places and in worse situations. Plenty of them.

"J.T.?" she said. "Hot load?"

"Hot loads. They're, um, designed for max muzzle velocity, able to punch through body armor, and then disintegrate inside the body for maximum damage." Geez, he sounded like some lame-dick instructor on the range at Bragg.

"Oooh."

Was that a coo? He'd heard the term; he wasn't sure he'd ever heard the reality.

"Maximum damage." Althea leaned forward. Her breasts jiggled but they didn't droop. It wasn't natural but at the moment Wilder didn't give a shit. "Where did you learn that?"

"Uh, Fort Bragg. Special Forces training."

She touched her lip with her tongue. "I bet you've seen a lot of action."

Wilder swallowed. "Some."

She shivered a little and that looked good, too. "Where?"

"Iraq," Wilder said, trying to remember. "Afghanistan." Here.

"Oh." She blinked at him. "Dangerous places. Are you working now?"

"I'm on leave," he said.

She smiled. "So what else do you have? I liked the gun."

Damn. Wilder mentally ran through the weapons he had strapped to his body, trying to figure out how he could get his clothes off without revealing them all.

"J.T.?"

"A man has to have some secrets," he told her, and turned out the light.

Lucy was halfway through the script and completely confused when Connor knocked on the door of the camper and opened it. She dropped the script and it slid off the table as he came in, smiling at her, his bulk filling the camper.

"We're good to go tomorrow," he told her, collapsing into one of the chairs. He looked beat, lines around his eyes, gray smudges under them, his five o'clock shadow making him look like a Hollywood bandit. "Late start, easy day. Nothing to worry about."

"Good," Lucy said, trying to stay businesslike. It was too much like old times, both of them bone tired way past midnight and Connor smiling at her.

Except that there was something wrong with the shoot. And something wrong with Daisy.

"Why aren't you back at the hotel?" he asked. "No reason for you to still be here."

"I was reading." A script that makes no sense. "Connor, what's going on here?"

He sighed. "We're trying to finish a movie, love. By contract it has to be done by six a.m. Friday, so we're pedal to the metal."

"No, we're not," Lucy said. "I've seen the shooting schedules. We're not even doing full days. And this stuff that we're shooting doesn't make sense. The crew is uninvolved, the actors don't care, and my sister… there's something wrong with Daisy, Connor. She's taking something, some prescription-"

"You're overreacting," Connor said, sounding as tired as Daisy. "As far as the movie goes, name me an action movie made in the past twenty years that's made sense. Don't worry about it, just finish shooting it. It doesn't have to be good, it just has to be done."

"Then why'd you get me to finish it?" Lucy said, exasperated. "You know I don't do 'good enough for government work.' If you just wanted it finished, you could have gotten any hack."

He smiled at her. "I wanted to see you." He leaned forward. "Look, I know we got off to a bad start today, but it doesn't have to stay that way. I really wanted you here, Luce. I want you back."

"Oh, Connor," Lucy said, shaking her head, but he held up his hand.

"Just hear me out, babe. I didn't appreciate you when I had you, I was young and stupid and not ready to settle down, you should never have married me. But now I'm older and I'm tired and I just want to sit on a deck someplace with a good woman and watch the sun set over the ocean. This is my last job, I'm retiring after this, finding one place to stay, one woman to stay there with."

Oceanfront property? Expensive fantasy, Lucy thought, but that didn't mean it was a bad one. Except that he must have been making a hell of a lot of money if he thought he could pay for it. Or he was working one of his schemes. Was that what was dragging Daisy down?

"And you've always been the best woman I've ever known," he went on. "Daisy said you weren't with anybody. She said you hadn't really had anybody serious since me. And I thought that maybe you still-" He swallowed hard. "I was better when I was with you. Things went better. You made my life better. You were the best time I ever had, Lucy. And I think maybe I've been looking for you ever since." He stretched his hand across the table and took hers, and she fought a sudden urge to pull it away.

"Connor. Listen-"

"I know." Connor let go of her hand. "Too much too soon." He grinned at her. "That's your specialty, rushing in too fast to fix things, and now here I'm doing it. But I have four days, well, three now, to show you that I've changed."

She bit her lip. "Look, I drove down from New York today, and then shot all night, and I'm worried sick about Daisy, so this is not the time-"

"I know, I know." He stood up and held out his hand. "Come on.

I'll take you back to the hotel and you can sleep on it and then we'll talk tomorrow."

She took his hand and let him pull her up. "I'll drive the camper. I need it to take Pepper to the comics store tomorrow."

He smiled again, his face softer than she'd ever seen it. "You're great with her. You should have kids of your own. Maybe that's something we should talk about, too."

"Kids?" Lucy said, dumbfounded.

"I want it all, Luce," Connor said. "It's time. And you're the woman I want to have it with. You make it all make sense." He leaned forward, so handsome, smiling at her, and kissed her, and she kissed him back to see what it felt like.

Nothing. Out of nowhere she thought of J. T. Wilder and shivered.

"There's a king-size bed in my hotel room," he whispered to her. "Gets awful lonely in there."

Right. Lucy thought of Stephanie and her excuse: I was helping Connor. And then there was Althea. "I find that very hard to believe," she said, and he grinned.

"Well, I'm going to be lonely in there now that you're back. There's nobody else for me from now on, Luce."

She pulled away. "Go back to the hotel. I'll follow you."

He nodded, not pushing. "Tomorrow we talk, okay?"

"I'm not going to be any less distracted tomorrow." She met his eyes. "Connor, what's wrong with Daisy?"

The light went out of his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with Daisy."

"She's taking something-"

"She's a single mother working long hours and trying to home-school her kid," Connor said. "She's just tired."

"No," Lucy said, "she's taking something."

"You know what? This is none of my business." He opened the door and looked back at her. "You shouldn't be talking about your sister with anybody, Luce. You want to know something, ask her."

"Hey," Lucy said and then he was gone. You bastard, she thought. Making taking care of Daisy sound like a betrayal. Anything to get her off his back. Yeah, we'll talk tomorrow. And not about you and me getting together, either. The last thing I need in this mess is a man to deal with, too.

J.T. Wilder came back to mind, and she tried to shove him away, thinking, How pathetic is that? If ever a man had shown no interest in her, it was Wilder. Forget him, forget all men until she finished the damn shoot and fixed her sister's life.

She began to clear off the table and saw the script where she'd dropped it. She picked it up and remembered why she'd been confused; she was sixty pages in and there was nothing in there but a basic romance plot. Where were the helicopters going to come from? The armored car? And that damn SEAL. In this script, Bryce's character was a stockbroker.

Out in the parking lot, Connor honked the horn of his van, and Lucy shoved the script into her bag. She could finish it tonight in bed, she would finish it so she'd know exactly how screwed up this shoot was. And then she'd fix it. And Daisy. And Pepper.

And Wilder, she thought and stopped, surprised. There was nothing about J.T. Wilder that needed fixing. Well, he could use a little warmth. She could do that.

No, she couldn't. He probably had a wife or a girlfriend keeping him warm. She did not need to add him to her To Do list.

She slid in behind the wheel and turned the ignition, trying to concentrate on her problems but her mind keep skewing back to Wilder and whoever was keeping him warm.

Lucky her, she thought and followed Connor's van out of the parking lot.

Lucy was still yawning when she and Pepper headed for Jax Comix at eleven the next morning with Kirsty MacColl singing "Us Amazonians" on the stereo, one of Pepper's favorites. A late night with the script hadn't made Lucy feel any better about the movie, but sunshine and Pepper beside her belting out "Us Amazonians make out all right" at the top of her lungs were going a long way toward cheering her up.

"You're not wearing your hair braided," Pepper said when the song was done.

"I'm not working." Lucy stifled another yawn.

"It looks pretty when you leave it down." Pepper leaned back against the seat. "I bet J.T. would like it down."

Lucy grinned at her. "You and J.T. are pals now, I guess."

Pepper nodded. "He got me that Wonder Woman stuff, so that means he likes me."

"Men who give you things usually like you," Lucy agreed.

"He got me very good stuff."

"Yes, he did. Are you going to get him anything?"

"Should I?" Pepper said.

"It would be polite. At least a thank-you note."

Pepper nodded solemnly and sat silent, evidently planning her thank-you, and Lucy sat equally silent, thinking about Pepper's J.T. Maybe she should get him a thank-you, too. Her mind veered off course and she thought of Pepper's song, MacColl singing that Amazonians just wanted somebody to hold in the forest at night. That would be good, she thought. Connor was volunteering, but for some reason, J. T. Wilder had more appeal. And no interest in her. The least he could have done was stared at her breasts or something, although with Althea on the bridge, she really wasn't a contender there.

They reached the strip mall, and Lucy parked in front of the comics store.

"What's a gentlemen's club?" Pepper said as they got out, staring at the sign that said maraschino's.

"A misnomer," Lucy said.

"What's a misnomer?" Pepper said.

"It means the wrong name," Lucy said. "That's not a club and there are no gentlemen in it. The comic-book store is over here." She pointed in the direction of Jax, trying not to be annoyed by the fact that Wilder's big appointment the night before had probably been with a stripper. There was a lot to be said about a man who scheduled time to see naked women, but none of it could be said in front of a five-year-old.

The inside of Jax was not impressive, including the twenty-something clerk with the limp mustache who looked half asleep, but Pepper was oblivious. She went up to the counter, lifted her chin to see over it, and said, "We want Wonder Woman comic books, please."

"You want the latest stuff or collect-" The clerk's voice trailed off as he caught sight of Lucy.

"Whatever she wants," Lucy said, figuring somebody should get what she wanted.

The clerk nodded, staring. "You know, you look a lot like-"

"New comics," Pepper told him. "And a Wonder Woman Barbie."

"We don't carry Barbies, kid," the counter guy said, and Lucy frowned at him. "But we have other action figures. Like..

Lucy's cell phone rang and she took it out and looked at the caller ID. Blocked. "Can I take this, Pepper? It might be about the movie."

Pepper nodded, absorbed in her shopping.

The counter guy had backed up to the shelves behind him. "The action figure from the Kingdom Come comic, that's a good one. Looks a lot like your mom." He gave Lucy a smile that said, Hello, I'm kind to kids and good with women, and Lucy gave him a smile back that said, Fat chance. Her cell phone rang again, and she answered it.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Armstrong?"

"Yes?" Lucy said, trying to place the voice. An Irish brogue? She didn't know anybody Irish.

"This is James Finnegan."

Finnegan, the backer. "Hello, Mr. Finnegan." Lucy shot a glance at

Pepper, who was staring past the counter guy, up on her tiptoes now to see better.

"What's that?" Pepper pointed at a mannequin on the shelf behind him.

He turned around. "Wonder Woman WonderWear. One hundred percent cotton. Cami and-"

"Does it come in my size?" Pepper said.

No, no, Lucy thought as Finnegan said, "I wanted to thank you for finishing my movie for me."

"You're welcome, Mr. Finnegan," Lucy said, watching Pepper watch the WonderWear.

"The extra-small might sort of fit you," the counter guy said to Pepper, putting the package on the counter. He looked at Lucy. "Your mom would look good in the extra-large."

"My mom wears a small," Pepper said, following his eyes to Lucy. "That's my aunt."

"I know it was short notice," Finnegan was saying, "and I appreciate your help."

"My pleasure," Lucy said, giving up on Pepper for the moment. "Mr. Finnegan, about the script-"

"May I call you Lucy?" Finnegan said. "Such a sweet name."

"Sure," Lucy said, thinking, I have a choice?

"What's your aunt's name?" the counter guy said.

"Lucy," Pepper said. "I'm Pepper."

The counter guy stuck out his hand. "I'm Jax. Your aunt married or anything?"

"No," Pepper said. "I want the underwear."

Lucy tried to block them out to concentrate on Finnegan. "About the script, I think there's a problem-"

"So that's an extra-small, a small, and an extra-large in the WonderWear?" Jax said to Pepper.

"A problem?" Finnegan said.

'Yes," Pepper said to Jax. "And I want to see the King doll."

"Kingdom Come," Jax said. "It's from the Kingdom Come comic. Looks just like your aunt."

Finnegan said, "The script is very simple."

"Well," Lucy said. "I've only read through it once, but basically it doesn't make sense. Brad isn't even a Navy SEAL until the last half hour, and Rip is a stockbroker, not a thief. Then all of a sudden there's a helicopter chase and then another helicopter with a cargo net and an armored car exploding."

"Most movies don't make sense," Finnegan said. "You do understand that when you agreed to take over the movie, you agreed to the terms of the contract I had with Mr. Lawton."

"Who?" Lucy said.

"The former director," Finnegan said.

"Contract?"

"In exchange for my investment of four million dollars, you agreed to film the movie as scripted, following the schedule as stated. Should you not keep this agreement, Ms. Armstrong, I'll be asking you personally for my four million back."

"Huh?" Lucy said, feeling the ground shift beneath her feet.

"I gather your boy Connor did not mention that when he called you in," Finnegan said. "Just let him handle everything."

"Connor is not my boy," Lucy said, thinking, Oh, hell, twelve years apart and he's still scamming me. She glanced back at Pepper, who was staring wide-eyed through the cellophane on a box labeled kingdom

COME WONDER WOMAN.

"Wow," Pepper said.

"Connor will take care of everything," Finnegan said. "You listen to him and you'll be fine. Your role as director is just a formality."

Jax put three packages of underwear on the counter next to the box. "We got the comic that figure's from. All the superheroes fight the bad guys in this really big last battle."

"Cool," Pepper said.

"Mr. Finnegan," Lucy said. "Connor is the stunt coordinator. I'm the director."

"Well, it's the stunts you're shooting now, isn't it?" Finnegan said. "And one more thing, Lucy. That fine Green Beret you have on my set? He's not in the budget and he must go."

"Bryce is paying for him," Lucy said and then stopped to frown at the phone. "How did you know there was a Green Beret on the set? Did Connor call-"

"Connor did not call," Finnegan said. "I have my ways of knowing things. Get rid of him."

"I can't," Lucy said. "Bryce hired him, Bryce is paying him, and Bryce insists on keeping him. I've already tried, it's a no go. If I cross him, he'll sulk and your schedule will go to hell. If Connor didn't call, who was it?"

"Let's just say I have somebody keeping an eye on things."

"What?" Lucy said. "You have a mole on my set?" She looked over to see Pepper and Jax listening. She put her hand over the receiver and asked, "Done shopping, Pepper?"

Pepper shook her head and turned back to Jax, who was already grabbing another book.

Lucy uncovered the phone. "Why are you doing this? If you want to send an observer, send an observer, I have no problem with that. Why all the secrecy?"

"Only three more days, Lucy," Finnegan said. "All you have to do is follow the schedule."

"I'll meet your schedule," Lucy snapped. "But Wilder stays on the set because Bryce wants him. And the mole goes. Send all the observers you want, but no spies."

The silence on the phone stretched out while, behind her, the counter guy said, "How about the Masterpiece Doll? Comes with a hardcover book and a reproduction of the first-"

"I got that last night," Pepper said. "J.T. gave it to me."

"Tough-looking guy?" Jax said. "Doesn't say much?"

That's him, Lucy thought and wondered if catching moles was in his job description.

"You're really not in a position to dictate to me, Lucy my girl," Finnegan was saying.

"Yep," Pepper said to the counter guy. "That's J.T. He's a Green Beret. I should get him something, too."

"How about the Superman boxers with the Super Size shield?"

"No," Lucy said.

"I beg your pardon," Finnegan said, his voice icy.

"Sorry," Lucy said into the phone. "I was talking to someone else. But the mole-"

"Forget that," Finnegan said. "The schedule's the important thing. I want you to follow it exactly."

"I don't like any of this, Mr. Finnegan."

"It's my money, Lucy."

"I understand that, but-"

"You do a good job for me," Finnegan said, "and perhaps there'll be a bonus for you."

"I don't want a bonus. I want that mole off the set and-" She stopped as she heard a click and the phone went dead. Bastard.

"Sticker book?" Jax said to Pepper, putting it on the counter in front of her.

"Got it," Pepper said.

"Pez dispenser?" He put one on the counter and Pepper frowned.

"Maybe."

"Wonder Woman bobble-head doll?" He put one in front of her and Pepper rolled her eyes as the head bobbed up and down. "Yeah, that's what I think, too. Can you write? I got a Wonder Woman diary."

"I can write," Pepper said. "Some."

"How about The Ultimate Guide to Wonder Woman? It's where all the sticker pictures came from."

"Ooh, ooh, that one."

Lucy shut off the phone and looked at the pile on the counter.

"They don't have Barbies," Pepper said to her, "but they have all this cool stuff."

Lucy looked at Jax, who shrugged. Then she looked at Pepper. "Can you read the books?"

"Yes. I checked. Well, I didn't check the last one." She pulled the slender white book oft the stack and opened it. "Yep, I can read it. Most of it."

"And the clothes?" Lucy said, picking up one of the packages.

"Wonder Woman underwear," Pepper said.

"WonderWear," Jax said.

"I thought we could have a party," Pepper said, in her best abandoned-child voice. "You and me and Mom because I have nobody to play with. And we could all wear the underwear."

She was putting it on, Lucy knew, but underneath the put-on, there was something true. Pepper was worried about her mom, but underneath that, she was achingly lonely. She really did need somebody to play with.

Hell, so do I.

There was a spy on her set. That was just creepy.

Lucy flicked up the box that said kingdom come. Inside was an eight-inch action figure that was the closest thing she'd seen to art in a cardboard box: a semibehevably proportioned woman with muscles and a gold rope, looking pissed as hell. "Wow."

"That's what I said," Pepper said. "Isn't she beautiful? But I don't really need her. I'd rather have the Barbie."

"Maybe I need her," Lucy said, looking at the tough lines of the figure. This was a bitch who could kick some Irish ass. And maybe some Australian butt-he knew he was suckering me into that liability-and find a mole, too. Who? She thought. Forty-odd people. It could be any of them. Althea saving for bigger boobs if that was possible, Bryce investing in a Ding Dongs factory, Mary Vanity putting out a hit on Althea…

"So can I have it all?" Pepper asked.

Lucy looked at the swag on the counter. She'd missed some things while she was on the phone. Magnets, a mug, a lunch box, a Superman key chain…

"Superman?"

"For J.T. To say thank you."

"Well," Lucy said. "I don't know.

Pepper looked up at her with huge eyes. "If I can have this stuff, I'll help you find the mole."

"What?"

"The mole you were talking about, on the phone, I'll help you find it and that way I can earn this stuff."

Big ears, Lucy thought. "You don't have to earn it. I'll find the mole. But thank you very much for offering."

"Okay." Pepper turned back to the counter. "Maybe I'll make moles my next Animal of the Month."

"Moles," Jax said, shaking his head. "They ruined my mom's garden."

I'm betting this one's not good for my movie set, Lucy thought. "Ring it all up," she said, putting the Kingdom Come box back on the counter.

"That, too?" Jax said.

"Especially that," Lucy said.

"I think Wonder Woman is very cool," Pepper said, watching her loot disappear into several bags. "I bet she could find the mole. I bet she could find a hundred moles."

"She's going to do her damnedest," Lucy said, and got out her wallet.