Waters Run Deep. Liz Talley

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      “Call me Carter, Annie.”

      “I’d rather not.” Hadn’t Tawny reminded her of her place yesterday?

      Annie could see he liked to call the shots, but he shrugged. “Whatever’s best.”

      She nodded, headed toward the back door of the kitchen and peeked out the glass door of the mudroom. Sunlight streamed through the coal-black trunks of the live oaks, throwing golden confetti on the grass beneath. Perfect morning for a run.

      Spencer.

      Damn. She’d forgotten to ask Carter to send Brick to babysit the door to her bedroom. She turned back around to reenter the kitchen and heard a scream come from the other side of the door.

      “Spencer’s not in his bed! He’s gone!” It was Tawny’s voice.

      Annie intended to push through the kitchen door and tell Tawny the child was safe in her bed, but Carter beat her to it.

      “Hell, Tawny, he’s asleep in the nanny’s bed. Don’t you bother thinking before you start carrying on? You need to try processing something in that brain up there before opening your mouth.”

      Tawny closed her mouth and her eyes narrowed. “You’ve always enjoyed my brains, if I recall. Open mouth, too.”

      Neither of them saw Annie at the door and for a moment, she felt like an interloper, but didn’t move. Maybe understanding the couple’s relationship would help her with the case. She’d not spent much time with Carter or Tawny.

      “Oh, and you’re good at it, aren’t you, sweetheart? That’s what Mick’s been saying.” Carter’s voice held sneer, disdain and hurt.

      Whoa. Carter thought Tawny was messing around with the lead on the production, the wickedly debauched Mick Manners, who was playing the deranged killer in Magic Man.

      “Oh, you’re listening to someone other than yourself? You’re telling me the great and mighty director actually realizes there are other people in the world besides himself?”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      Tawny shrugged. “You figure it out ’cause I got better things to do. By the way, after we wrap, I’m taking Spencer up to Mama’s for a visit.”

      Carter snorted. “Why? So he can learn how to shuck corn and make crystal meth?”

      “Yeah, that’s what I’m going to teach him.” Her voice sounded venomous and offended. She took a steadying breath. “I promised Mama I’d bring him. She’s been stressed about Teri leaving Braden with her and going off with some guy from Georgia, so I thought I’d go up and make her feel better. She’s having to take care of Braden all by herself.”

      “You haven’t sent any more money to Teri, have you? That won’t help her.”

      Tawny put her hands on her hips. “You know very well I cut her off after the Fourth of July incident. I’m just paying for some stuff for Braden. That’s it.”

      Annie felt a pang of sadness for Tawny—nothing like family putting their hooks in and looking for a free ride. She took a step back, holding the door with the flat of her hand, letting it close slowly so she remained unseen. But her not-so-stealthy action caught Tawny’s eye. The actress raced across the room and pulled the door back before Annie could escape. “What the hell are you doing? Hiding?”

      Her words were accusing. Jealous. Oh, no.

      “I’m going for a run, but I forgot to ask Mr. Keene if Brick could keep an eye on Spencer.”

      Tawny’s hair was knotted and there were circles under her eyes. She gave Annie a disdainful lip curl then looked back at Carter. Her gaze held a question. “Maybe you better do your job and take care of my son before you pursue other activities.”

      Ouch. The woman thought she’d caught them in flagrante.

      “Get your mind out of the gutter,” Carter said from where he’d sunk on the old-fashioned banquette in the breakfast nook, but Annie didn’t miss the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. He liked her jealousy. “Annie passed through to let me know Spencer was safe in bed so no one would worry. That’s all.”

      Annie stood stock-still, knowing she made for an easy target. She looked at Tawny, refusing to duck her chin or make any excuse. “Mrs. Keene, I’ll check on Spencer again before I go, but I’d like to go for a quick run before starting his day.”

      Carter nodded. “Of course, that’s fine. I’ll tell Brick to keep an eye on him.”

      Tawny echoed with “Fine.”

      Carter refocused on his wife. “Be on location at eight o’clock sharp. Oh, and call Linda so she can work some makeup magic. The camera picks up every line and wrinkle, and we’ve got night scenes, long day coming up.”

      Annie pushed through the kitchen door but not before she caught the pain in the actress’s eyes. Tawny was a prima donna extraordinaire, but Annie didn’t like seeing the hurtful words the couple threw at one another, not when she’d seen the photographs scattered around the Hollywood Hills mansion of two people truly in love. Happy, laughing, loving couples were hard to find amid celebrity. Tawny and Carter Keene seemed to have had it.

      At one time.

      Annie decided to peek in on Spencer again. He still slept, and Brick already skulked in the hall, so she slipped out the side door and set off down the drive, the gravel crunching beneath her running shoes, the air already heavy with moisture. Sweat sluiced down her body before she hit the highway. By the time she’d gone a mile, her breathing was ragged and her legs heavy. Louisiana in September might kill her.

      She rounded a curve, intending to do another mile even if she ended up with a toe tag, and nearly crashed into Tawny’s former roommate and current best friend, Jane McEvoy.

      “Annie,” Jane breathed, leaning over and grasping her knees while gulping in deep breaths.

      Annie stopped and mopped sweat out of her eyes, surprised the woman had remembered her name. They’d only met once. “Morning, Ms. McEvoy.”

      “Jane, please. And it’s killer out here, isn’t it? I’ve been here for almost a month and I still can’t get accustomed to the humidity.”

      Annie glanced down the highway in the direction from which Jane had come. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

      “Marathon,” the woman panted, pulling the breathable tank from her torso. “I’ve been training for months around the shooting schedule. Beau Soleil’s ten miles from the motel where the rest of us are staying, so it’s a perfect training run here and back.”

      Annie nodded. Jane was okay. Much better than Tawny, but then again, Jane was a serious character actress appearing as an extra on police procedurals and the occasional big-screen film. With a wholesome look and a trust-inspiring demeanor, Jane was also frequently cast in commercials. As a close friend to the Keenes she’d snagged a part as the killer’s girlfriend. Something about being whacked in the first scene only to reemerge at the end of the film as the mastermind who faked her own death.

      Annie СКАЧАТЬ