Don't Look Down

Chapter 7

Bryce surprised everybody and jerked his knee up hard, right into the weight lifter's balls, making him scream. Wilder reached out with his left hand and snatched the mug from Doofus One, at the same time striking hard with his right, three short quick jabs into the kidneys. The combination of smashed balls and pummeled kidneys caused Doofus One to go to his knees, then collapse forward. Down and done.

Wilder was already looking at the second wave coming in, Doofus Two, the Football Player, reliving his glory days, rushing the quarterback. Wilder dropped the mug and stepped forward to get in the open, but Bryce fucked it up by sliding in front, running interference like a real wingman.

"Get out-" Wilder didn't finish because Bryce disappeared inside Football Player's grasp. There was a muffled squeak.

Wilder felt bad for Bryce but he had his eyes on the third guy, Thin Man, whose hand was hovering over his right hip where the shirt was untucked. Wilder hoped he had a knife there, because if it was a gun, the place was going to be a mess very quickly.

Knife it was. One of those that required Thin Man to flick his hand back and forth to open it with flair. Wilder had seen that in movies but never in real life because a real soldier was as likely to carry that as he was Bryce's sword. Still, it was metal and it had a sharp edge.

Technically, he could double-tap Thin Man with his Glock considering things had now escalated to assault with a deadly weapon, but he thought of how Crawford would hang him out to dry, and then there was Armstrong-

Bryce was making strange, squeaking noises in Doofus Two's grasp. Was Two trying to hug Bryce to death?

Wilder moved forward, short controlled steps, and Thin Man slashed the blade across his front, more a threatening preparation for attack than an attempt to actually cut, which meant Thin Man knew nothing about real fighting. Wilder went low, his left arm blocking the knife arm up and out of the way as he side kicked right into the front of Thin Man's closest knee.

The sound of the knee snapping backward froze everyone in the bar. Thin Man's scream cut through the silence as he collapsed, but Wilder had already turned. He hit Doofus Two, who had not yet registered that he was now the Lone Ranger, a bare-knuckle shot in the temple.

Wilder had to give Doofus Two credit: He let go of Bryce, who staggered back to the bar, but he didn't collapse. He slowly turned toward Wilder, rage competing with near unconsciousness on his face.

Drop, Wilder thought.

Doofus Two raised his huge arms and took a step toward Wilder. Was that the only move he knew? Wilder wondered. He backed up a step and Doofus Two came forward a step.

Drop, asshole.

He didn't.

Bryce jumped on Doofus Two's back, his arm snaking around his shoulders, trying to get a chokehold, except his arms were too short and Doofus Two was too wide. Bryce was doing it all wrong, but damn, he was doing it.

Wilder went in for his wingman. He hit Doofus Two with the knife edge of his left hand right across the throat, holding back the blow so he wouldn't crush the larynx and make him drown in his own blood, but hard enough to cause extreme pain and make him think about other things for a while.

Doofus Two went to his knees, his gasping mixed with the muted screams coming from Thin Man, who was curled in a ball, hands wrapped around his destroyed knee. Bryce let go and staggered back, as shocked as everyone else.

Wilder checked out the bar, now stunned into silence. The bartender had not moved. He had not brought a weapon out from under the bar. He was watching, eyes dead. Wilder nodded at him and tilted his head toward the door. The bartender nodded in return and tilted his head also. Wilder peeled another hundred off his roll and slapped it on the bar.

"Let's go." Wilder didn't wait for Bryce to acknowledge, just grabbed his arm and hustled him out the door, grateful the Glock was still in its holster and all its bullets were still in the magazine, including the one in the chamber. Men. Fucking assholes. Over nothing. Nothing.

"That was un-freaking-believable," Bryce gushed on an adrenaline high as Wilder pushed him toward the Porsche. "Did you see that guy go down?"

I put him down, Wilder thought as he unlocked the car doors. Of course I saw him.

"I mean, what was the move you did?" Bryce asked. "Could you-"

"Shut up." Wilder held a hand up to emphasize the two words while he put the other on the car roof to steady himself.

Even Bryce could see that the hand in front of his face was shaking. "You all right?"

No. Wilder closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yeah."

"You don't look okay. I didn't even see you get hit."

"I didn't get hit. I maimed a guy for life."

"But he-"

"I know he was an asshole, and I know they started it, but it doesn't change what I did." Wilder opened his eyes, took his hand off the car roof, and handed the keys to Bryce. "You drive. And don't tell anyone what happened."

"I'm going to have to tell Lucy," Bryce said, raising a hand to his face.

"No, you are not-" Wilder broke off as he saw Bryce's face, the entire right side red from being mashed into Doofus Two's chest.

"I'm sorry," Bryce said.

"Get in the car," Wilder said. "Just get in the car."

When they stopped shooting for second meal that night, Lucy took the shuttle back to her camper and collapsed into one of the blue swivel chairs, exhausted from wrangling people into shooting stupid scenes while keeping an eye on Daisy so she wouldn't pop any pills. Pepper's Wonder Woman loot was spread out on the table, the Kingdom Come action figure standing in the middle of it all, looking determined, rope in hand. Lasso of Truth. That would be good. She could think of several people she'd like to tie up and ask a few pointed questions. Connor. Daisy. Finnegan.

Wilder.

Captain Wilder, did you have a good time with Althea last night? Ha. Of course, he'd had a good time. Althea practically had good time tattooed on her forehead.

Okay, that was just depressing. She punched the iPod on and hit Kirsty again, looking for anything cheery, and ended up with "Treachery." Not a good time for songs about wanting someone at night, she decided. And definitely no Bonnie Tyler.

Kirsty sang, "Treachery made a monster out of me," and Lucy thought, Maybe I overreacted. Wilder didn't owe her anything. He was, as Gloom said, a free agent. Jealousy was ridiculous in this situation. Completely inappropriate. He could do whatever he wanted. He could do whomever he wanted.

The son of a bitch.

Two more days and he's gone out of your life, she thought, and then the camper door opened and Pepper said, "Aunt Lucy, look!" and Lucy swiveled her chair to see Pepper in her WonderWear, now modified by the wardrobe department to fit her: red cami and blue-and-white-starred shorts topped with a piece of blue material safety-pinned to the straps of the cami as a cape. She'd painted white stripes on her red rain boots, picked up some gold-painted rope somewhere, and wrapped aluminum foil around her wrists, now secured with silver duct tape.

"Wow,'' Lucy.said.

"Connor gave me the rope and put the duct tape on for me," Pepper said, her fists on her hips. "I don't have a crown though."

"That was good of Connor," Lucy said. ''You look great, baby."

Pepper sat down in the swivel chair across from Lucy. "So can we have a Wonder Woman party now?"

"Now?" Lucy said and then remembered her promise in the comics store. "Oh, Pepper, I forgot." Pepper's face fell and Lucy added hastily, "Tell you what, let's do it tomorrow night, and we'll get a Wonder Woman cake and ice cream, too. How about that?"

Pepper nodded, woebegone.

"And maybe a video," Lucy said, desperate. "Do they have Wonder Woman videos?"

Pepper shrugged.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry." Lucy opened her arms and Pepper climbed onto her lap. "I really am," she said into Pepper's hair as she held her close. "It was a bad day and I was really busy, it just slipped my mind. But it will be a better party tomorrow, I swear. Hey, we should have root beer and cheese sticks. Let's-"

Pepper pulled back to look into her face. "Did you find the mole?"

"The mole." Lucy blinked. "No, I haven't had a chance to look, sweetie. He's probably run off by now. Don't worry about him."

"Did he go into the forest?" Pepper said.

"Yes," Lucy said. "And he's very happy there. Moles love forests. Forget about him. So how about some root-"

"Will you have to look for him tomorrow?"

"Pepper, I swear, we will have the part}' tomorrow night, mole or no mole. And I'll wear my WonderWear, too. I promise."

"And Mom?"

"She'll wear hers, too," Lucy said, condemning Daisy to Wonder-Wear whether she liked it or not. Hell, looking that ridiculous might cheer her up. "And there'll be a cake, I'll find a Wonder Woman cake." Gloom will find a Wonder Woman cake. "And maybe I can find a crown."

"A crown," Pepper said, perking up. "That would be so cool."

"A crown it is," Lucy said, praying that Estelle in wardrobe would be able to make a crown. "It'll be tun. You'll see."

"I can't wait. We can all have crowns!" Pepper squinted at the Kingdom Come action figure. "She doesn't look like she has a crown. She looks like she has a gold headband."

Easier to make, Lucy thought. "Well, headbands are better. They'll hold our hair back for us. You can take the action figure with you to wardrobe tomorrow and show them." I'm going to have to wear a Wonder Woman headband.

"Headbands are better because they hold our hair back when we're fighting crime," Pepper said.

"Exactly," Lucy said, thinking of Finnegan. "So about that root beer-"

Stephanie opened the door of the camper and said, "You'd better see this."

What now? Lucy thought and stood up, letting Pepper slide off her lap before she went to the door.

Bryce and Wilder were standing there under the base-camp lights, Bryce looking like a kid who was waiting to get grounded and Wilder looking like hell. "What?"

Stephanie jerked her head toward Bryce, and Lucy looked at him closer.

The side of his face was red and starting to swell.

"What the…" Lucy came down the step to look at him more closely, Pepper right behind her.

"It was my fault," Bryce said. "I went into the bar, I-"

"This was a bar fight?" Lucy said, incredulous.

"We didn't start it," Bryce said. "This guy spilled-"

"We?" Lucy looked at Wilder. "Bryce generally doesn't get into bar

fight."

"Lucy," Bryce said.

"Could I see you in my camper, Captain Wilder?" Lucy said, and Wilder turned and went up the step without a word.

"Lucy. "Bryce grabbed her arm as she started to follow him, and she turned and glared at him, but he didn't let go. "No, it was my fault. I took him there. I picked out the bar. I wanted a tough place. For the movie."

"There's no bar in the movie."

"No, but Brad would go into that kind of bar. It was research."

Lucy shook her head, too mad to argue. "Stephanie, take Bryce to makeup and have them put arnica on his face, and then take Pepper back to Daisy, please."

"No," Pepper moaned. "I want to stay with you and J.T."

"Bryce, find out from them what you have to do to look decent tomorrow. We'll have to shoot you from the left tomorrow if it's noticeable."

"That's not my good side," Bryce said.

"It is now," Lucy said and went back into the camper.

Wilder was sitting at the table when she went in, his hands pressed flat against the surface.

Lucy cut Kirsty off on the iPod and stood in front of him with her arms folded. "Captain Wilder, are you trying to kill this movie?"

Wilder shook his head once, not meeting her eyes, his rugged face in profile to her.

Lucy stared at him, willing him to look at her. "Why in the name of God did you let him go into that bar?"

"His choice," Wilder said.

Lucy bent over the table, determined to get his attention. "Look at me, Wilder. Take some responsibility here. Bryce wouldn't know a dangerous bar if it had a dangerous bar sign out front. You would. Why did you let him go in there?" When he didn't answer, she said, ''Look at me, damn it. "

He turned his head and she looked into his eyes and saw misery, bone deep.

She straightened, thinking, What the hell happened? His eyes went back to the table, and she went over to the cupboard and got out her emergency kit: a bottle of eighteen-year-old Glenlivet and two glasses. She put the glasses on the table, poured a shot into each, and sat down, sliding one across to him.

He picked up the glass and she saw his hand shake, not much but not steady.

He's vulnerable, she thought. Who knew?

He tossed back the scotch and put the glass on the table again, and she poured another shot. The third time seemed to do it; the rigidity went out of his shoulders and the hand that held the glass stopped trembling.

When Wilder spoke, his voice was low. "It wasn't a dangerous bar when we went in. Three guys came in after. They were the dangerous part."

"What happened?"

He swallowed. "I crippled a man."

Lucy drew back, knowing from the way he said it that "crippled" wasn't a figure of speech.

"One of the three," Wilder said. "He pulled a knife. It wasn't a good knife, but it had a sharp edge."

Lucy thought about what a knife could have done to him and crossed her arms in front of her.

"He never got near Bryce," Wilder said.

Lucy shook her head. "It's not-"

"I'm sorry about screwing things up for tomorrow," Wilder said, and Lucy thought, The hell with tomorrow.

She picked up her glass to drink and then on second thought offered it to Wilder, and his hand covered hers as he took it, warm, still a little shaky. She waited a moment to let go of the glass, looking into his eyes. "It's all right. I get it now." She smiled at him. "Thank you for saving Bryce's butt."

He nodded and took the drink.

"So how did the fight happen?" she said. "Did somebody recognize Bryce?"

"No." Wilder tossed back the shot and then leaned back, looking more thoughtful than bleak now, relaxing by millimeters. "Those three guys just started it."

"Why?" Lucy said. "Did Bryce say something?"

"Well, he didn't fit in real well," Wilder said. "But they were looking for trouble."

"And Bryce looked like trouble to them?"

Wilder shook his head.

"They were looking for you," Lucy said, her heart sinking. "Finnegan said he wanted you gone. I didn't think he meant permanently."

"Maybe, but that's a stretch," Wilder said. "It's all right."

"It's not all right, there was a knife, they could be waiting in your room for you right now-" She stopped when Wilder shook his head.

"I won't be in the room anymore."

That was the second time he'd said that. Was he leaving? Lucy nodded, going for nonchalant. "Where will you be? In case we need you for a stunt. Or something."

"Around. Don't worry about it. I'll be close." He relaxed into the plush chair, evidently in no hurry to get to his mysterious place, his eyes almost warm now, and she was treacherously glad he'd be close.

Don't be stupid. She poured herself a drink and sipped it. "You know," she said, as the warm glow of the scotch spread, "this shoot was already a mess, and now I've got Finnegan, and you had this bar fight. I thought it was just a management screwup, but now I think there's something very wrong here." Daisy wouldn't be upset about bad management. It has to be more than that.

"Maybe," Wilder was saying. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know," Lucy said. "But my sister is involved in it, and I like her a lot, so I'm going to have to stop it."

Wilder straightened a little. "Pepper's mother is involved?"

Lucy nodded.

"Tell me about it," he said, completely focused on her now.

The temptation was great. She sipped her scotch and watched him, alert and still across from her. He looked powerful, certain. If things went very wrong, he'd be a very good person to have on her side. "I think Connor roped Daisy into whatever it is that's going on. I don't know how. Stephanie says the old director was behind the deal with Finnegan, but I think it was Connor. And Daisy follows Connor without question; he's been looking out for her since Pepper was born." Lucy met his eyes and flushed. "I know, I should have been the one taking care of her, but-"

He looked confused. "I didn't say that."

"Well, I should have been there for her." Lucy drank more of her scotch, relaxing as it sank into her bones. "I should have gotten her away from Connor, I knew that. I just didn't want to fight with her. It was her life. But I swear I had no idea Connor would do something that would hurt her. Connor cares about her and Pepper; Daisy's always been like his little sister and I'd have sworn he wouldn't hurt them."

Wilder still looked confused. "I thought you lived in New York."

Lucy stopped, jarred out of her rationalization. "I do, but that's not the other side of the planet. I chose to go to New York, I could have gone to L.A. with them-"

"You like L.A.?"

"I hate LA."

Wilder nodded. "Did Daisy ask for help?"

"No," Lucy said, getting annoyed. "But she's my little sister-"

"When did you know she was in trouble?"

Well, aren't you chatty all of a sudden, Lucy thought. "She called on Saturday, three days ago, and asked me to come down to direct this mess. She said it would be a good opportunity."

"And you said yes."

"No," Lucy said. "I said no. I don't like doing full-length features. But then Pepper got on the phone and cried, and she's not a crier, so I said yes."

"So, as soon as you knew something was wrong, you came." Wilder shrugged.

Lucy shifted in her chair. "Look, I knew Connor had a lot of influence on her and I never got her away from him."

"How old is Daisy?" he said.

"Thirty." Lucy shook her head. "Yeah, I know, that's a grown-up. But that doesn't mean I haven't let her down. I should have invited her to come stay with me before this, told her I'd put Pepper in school, help her take care of her, and I didn't. I was selfish." She sat back, suddenly tired. "We have kind of a rocky history. When she was eighteen, she told me to get lost. Actually, I divorced Connor, and she chose him instead of me. She wanted a big brother more than she wanted a big sister." She stopped. "That's not fair. She chose to stay and work on her own career in feature films rather than come to New York and be part of mine in advertising. Which makes sense, she had a job, and why follow your big sister around, especially if you think she's going to the dogs." Lucy tried to smile. "Family joke. My specialty is working with animals. I like dogs."

Wilder nodded, relaxed in his chair.

"I'm sorry," Lucy said. "I'm babbling. The point is, Daisy's in trouble now, and it's my responsibility to save her and her kid, and given that whatever is going on here involves Finnegan, and that he wanted you off the set, and that right after I said no, you had a knife pulled on you…" Lucy swallowed and then tried to look chipper. "Well, I guess that means now I have to save you, too."

Wilder jerked his head up.

"Well, I'm the director," Lucy said. "You're my responsibility now."

"No, I'm not," Wilder said. "The bar fight could be just dumb-ass good old boys. Probably nothing to worry about. Forget about me. Your sister's different. What's wrong with the movie?"

"Oh, God, where do I start?" Lucy poured herself another drink and offered him the bottle. When he shook his head, she went on. "Well, everybody with any responsibility quit when the old director died, and I think they all left so they'd be far away when whatever it is hits the fan. Which should be shortly."

"High Noon" Wilder said. "The townspeople clearing out."

"Not you, too," Lucy said. "Has everybody seen that damn movie?" She took another sip and went on. "Then we're working with almost no crew and I'm betting that's because whoever's behind this wants to keep most of the four million for himself."

"Four million?" he repeated, looking very interested.

"According to Stephanie, this Finnegan, the guy who wants you gone, paid four million dollars for the extra week of stunt shooting."

"So the old director made the deal?"

Lucy shook her head. "I'm betting Connor made it and cut the old director in on it. This whole mess has Connor written all over it." She realized she sounded bitter and looked up to see if he'd noticed.

If he had, it wasn't bothering him much. In fact, he looked almost cheerful. "I thought you and Nash were…"

"Were what?"

"Together." He looked uncomfortable even as he said it.

"Uh, no," Lucy said. "That ended twelve years ago.'

"He thinks you're together."

"He's wrong. I've got Daisy in trouble and a shoot that makes no sense, and if Connor's behind any of it, I'm going to want him dropped off the damn bridge." She stopped, surprised to realize how angry she was.

"I can do that," Wilder said, and she grinned at him, feeling less of an idiot. "What else is wrong?"

She leaned back in her chair, the combination of the scotch and Wilder making her feel better than she had since she'd arrived. "Well, the change in the script is ridiculous. The movie was a romantic comedy, but now it turns out Brad's a Navy SEAL and Rip's a thief. It's like going to see Sleepless in Seattle and finding out Bill Pullman is a terrorist and they blow up the Empire State Building."

Wilder looked lost. Must not have seen Sleepless in Seattle. "The Empire State Building is in New York. How do-"

"Okay, forget that. Try Brad jumps out of a helicopter and lands on a car trying to save Annie, not breaking every bone in his body. Whoever wrote these new pages didn't care about it making sense." She stopped. "Finnegan pays them all this money to shoot the stunts and they make them stupid. I don't get it."

Wilder shrugged. "If they're going slow enough and low enough, it'd be possible to jump and land on the car without getting hurt. Personally, I'd double-tap the bad guy, but then the movie would be over."

"Right," Lucy said. "Then there's the helicopter stunt on Thursday night which does not make sense. So why are they doing it? Because I think Connor really expects Karen to bring that copter down low enough on the bridge so that the actors can fill that cargo net. And there's something else. Connor just handed me another script change today. Rip, the bad guy, handcuffs Annie to the armored car and then puts a bomb on it. Only Brad runs up and puts a gun on the chain between the cuffs and shoots it out. Wouldn't that blow off Annie's hand?"

"Maybe not if she stretched her hand out. Depends on the caliber of the gun." He shrugged. "But it's a movie. Why-"

"Because I'm wondering if it's all a movie," Lucy said. "The whole helicopter thing is stupid. Why not take the money, jump into the car, and go off. Why a helicopter?"

"It's easy to follow people on roads," Wilder said. "Hard as hell to track through the low country, especially if the copter drops them on a boat. They'd be pretty much free at that point-"

The camper door banged open and Daisy looked in, her face drawn and tense. "Is Pepper here?"

"No," Lucy said. "I told Stephanie to take her to you."

"She did," Daisy said, breathing harder. "And I told her to wait for me until I finished my notes, but she said she had to find somebody so we could have a party tomorrow, and I told her to come right back. When she didn't, I looked for Connor because she likes to be with him, but he's gone, rehearsing with Karen."

"Who'd she have to find?" Lucy said, watching Daisy vibrate. If she'd been shaking like this, it was easy to see why somebody had prescribed something for her.

"Somebody named Mole?" Daisy said, her voice shaking.

"Oh, God, no.' Lucy stood up, her heart in her throat. "The mole. She thinks it's in the woods."

Wilder was out the door before Lucy could say anything else, not moving particularly fast but moving just the same.

"The woods!" Daisy said, her voice rising.

"You stay here and search base camp," Lucy said, pushing past her. "Tell everybody to look for her. Look everywhere."

Then she ran to catch up with Wilder.

Tyler was about to crush the beer can when he heard something moving through the swamp to the east, between his position and the movie camp. He slipped the empty back into the ammunition pocket and stared at the open bag of Cheetos, knowing he couldn't touch it for fear of making too much noise. It was still half full. A damn waste.

He slid onto his belly and crawled, moving away from his hide site, staying in the thick undergrowth, slithering in the mud, and then paused as he heard rustling to his right. Without moving his body or the sniper rifle, he turned his head and peered across the swamp. Peering back was the one-eyed gator, less than twenty feet away in the water, its head raised, the body almost completely submerged, next to a mound about three feet high. As he watched, it opened its mouth, revealing teeth and fangs.

Looking past it, he could see several eggs near the top of the mound and realized the gator was not a buddy but a chick. Well, that puts a whole new light on the situation, Tyler thought. Mothers and their kids-bad news there. He remained still, staring, until the alligator finally lowered her head back into the water.

Won that one pretty easy, he thought.

The sound of a branch snapping echoed through the swamp. The gator shifted its attention to the latest visitor.

Tyler slid the sniper rifle up along his body into the ready position. He peered through the scope, getting only narrow snatches of clear vision through the leaves and branches. Something yellow, about three and a half feet above the ground.

Then through an opening in the leaves he saw the damn Kid from the movie set in her mom's straw hat, taking tentative steps through the swamp along the almost overgrown dirt road.

Nobody with you now, Kid, Tyler thought. Welcome to my world.

Tyler watched her for several seconds, and then smiled as he pulled a small-caliber silenced pistol out of his backpack.

Finally, something fun to do.