Dial Emmy For Murder Part 29

"Yes."

He patted my shoulder and then removed his arm. Suddenly, the look on his face changed. "Then what the h.e.l.l is going on with you, Alex?" he demanded.

"I-Sorry?"

"You've been late, you're forcing us to tape around you. . . . Why?"

I felt like we were having the same conversation but with him in an entirely different mood.

"I mean, I know you're Alex Peterson-I get that," he said. "You're one of the queens of daytime. I get that, too. But I've never thought of you as a diva, Alex."

"Neither have I, Sean-"

"Then why are you acting like that?" he demanded. "I don't know how it was on Yearning Tide, Alex, but here on B and B everybody carries their weight."

I wanted to be indignant, I wanted to shout at him, but I couldn't because he was right. Not that I'd been acting like a diva, but in agreeing to help Jakes with his investigation-by wanting to be involved-I had been pus.h.i.+ng my job to the back burner. That certainly wasn't fair to the rest of the cast or the crew.

"I understand, Sean," I said. "To tell you the truth, I've have been rather . . . shaky since Jackson almost fell on me, since I was covered with his blood . . ."

I felt bad. The look on Sean's face changed. Once again becoming solicitous, he put his arm around me.

"I knew it," he said. "I know you're a rock, Alex, but something . . . horrible like that . . . it has to have a lasting effect."

"I'm doing okay, really . . . most of the time. . . ."

"Do you want some time off?"

"No, no, Sean," I said, "I don't. I'll be all right, really. I'm here to work."

He patted my shoulder and said, "You're a trouper, Alex. But if you need some time off, please let me know . . . in advance, so I can schedule around you."

"I-I'll do my best, Sean."

"Good," he said. "Good. Now . . . get to work."

I left, knowing that I deserved a Daytime Emmy for my time in his office, and feeling both bad about it . . . and just a little satisfied. I was afraid he was going to make me choose between my job and the investigation. I would have had to pick my job, of course.

But as I made my way to my dressing room, I felt a kins.h.i.+p with Jakes. We were two mavericks, flying in the face of authority to solve these murders.

I'd never been a maverick before.

Chapter 53.

I focused all my concentration on my scenes that day, but luckily I had only three, so that wasn't very hard to do. It was after my scenes were over that the day turned.

I entered my dressing room and saw an envelope with my name on it sitting on the dressing table. My heart almost stopped when I recognized the chicken scratch. Only one person I knew had that immature handwriting. I tore the envelope open and pulled out a note written in the same scribble: Hey, Babe.

Don't worry about Sarah. I'll pick her up today from camp, take her out for dinner, and then bring her home later. Can't wait to see you.

Love, Randy I admit it. I panicked. I ran out of my dressing room and went looking for a crew member, a stage manager, someone. I needed to find out if anyone had seen who had left the note in my dressing room. If it was Randy himself, then he'd found some way past the guards and into the building without a pa.s.s-or he'd convinced someone to give him a pa.s.s.

I talked to several people, who either saw nothing or admitted nothing in the face of my obvious distress. I decided to take it to Sean Peters.

I found him in his office, sitting behind his desk and again on the phone. I could tell from his end of the conversation that he wasn't discussing business. I was too harried to wait for him to finish his personal call, so I slammed my hand down on the receiver, cutting the connection.

"Alex, what the-"

"Read this!" I thrust the note into his face.

He took it, read it quickly, and then looked at me. It took a moment for it to dawn on him.

"Wait," he said, "this is your ex-"

"Yes," I said, "the man who abandoned me and my daughter and stole all of my money. The man who's been missing for years. A man who has no right to be on these premises."

"Okay, Alex," he said, standing up. Despite the conversation, he remembered to touch his hair-and despite the conversation, I managed to notice. "Take it easy-"

"Take it easy?" I asked. "Sean, I want to know how this note got in my dressing room. I want to know how he got into the building, let alone on the lot. If you think I've been upset up to now, you ain't seen nothing yet." I grabbed the note back and crumpled it in my hand. "If I see Randy, I can't be responsible for what I'm gonna do to him. This man abandoned my little girl, and now he thinks he's going to come back into her life-and into my life? G.o.dd.a.m.n it-"

"Alex, Alex!" he said.

I stopped abruptly, realizing I was a millimeter from being completely out of control.

"I'll look into it," he said. "I'll find out how the note got here. I swear. Leave it to me. Go take care of your daughter."

I took a deep breath. "Sean . . . I'm sorry I shouted at you."

"Not at all," he said. "You get yourself home and I'll look into this. When I find out who let him into the building, I'll have their job and their head."

"Thank you, Sean."

I left his office and walked back to my dressing room-even though I wanted to run. When I got there I called Jakes.

Jakes pulled up in front of the building and I ran to the car.

"Let me see the note," he said.

"Is your man still on Sarah?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "I just spoke to him. He's with your mother and her."

"He didn't upset my mother, did he? Or Sarah?"

"No, Alex, everything's fine," he said. "Give it to me."

"What does it matter?" I asked, but I handed the note to him.

"You crumpled it?"

"I was . . . crazed!" I said.

"Okay, okay," he said. "It doesn't matter. You're sure this is Randy's handwriting?"

"It looks like a second grader wrote it, doesn't it? That's him."

"Alex, I'm sorry-"

"What are you sorry about?"

"I've been concentrating so hard on the murders . . . and on us. . . . I should have found him by now."

"Don't apologize to me, Jakes," I said. "So far you've saved my life once. You get a pa.s.s-"

"No," he said, "I don't want a pa.s.s. I'm going to find this b.a.s.t.a.r.d and make him pay for what he's done to you."

"I don't want you to shoot him," I said.

"I won't shoot him," he said, starting the car. "I'll lock his a.s.s up."

"Good."

We had driven past the guardhouse and pulled out onto the street when I said, "I want to shoot him myself."

Chapter 54.

When we got to my house, Jakes came inside with me after waving to his man across the street. Sarah and my mom were there. I gave my little girl a long hug, one she wiggled out of after a while.

"I have to go play in my room, Mommy," she said, and hustled away.

"Detective," my mom said. "Can I offer you something? Coffee? Something stronger?"

"Coffee would be nice, Mrs. Peterson."

Mom started for the kitchen and then stopped and turned back. "I'm making dinner," she said to Jakes. "Would you like to join us? There's plenty."

He looked at me, but I left it entirely up to him.

"Unless you have a previous engagement?" My mother raised her eyebrows. "Someone waiting for you at home?"

"No," he said, "n.o.body waiting for me. Dinner sounds great."

"Good."

While Mom went back into the kitchen, Jakes looked at me and said, "I'm going to go across the street and tell Kavanaugh to take a break."

"Okay. I'm going to take a shower and put something else on."

Dinner went off without a hitch. The conversation was lively, especially between Jakes and my mother. Everything was fine until Sarah made a perfectly innocent faux pas.

"Mommy, where's Paulie?" she asked.

All the adults at the table looked at one another, and then two of them looked at me. "This one's yours," their faces said.

"I'm not really sure, honey," I said, hedging.

She asked the next question the way most children do, without looking up at anyone in particular. Her eyes were intent on her French fries as she asked, "When is he coming back? I miss him."

I was tongue-tied. Thankfully Jakes stepped in just in time.

"I bet you do, Sarah. Your mom said he's a good friend of yours."

"Yeah, he's really nice. He reads to me a lot. He has lots of funny voices and stuff."

I couldn't help myself; I started to tear up.

"Well, I might not read quite as well as Paulie, but maybe sometime, I could try to read a book to you. You know, if you want." Jakes was speaking softly to her, looking her in the eyes.

"Yeah, that would be okay. Maybe even later, after dinner! I got a new book when I was at the r'union!"

Sure enough, after dinner Jakes read to Sarah, funny voices and all. He did remarkably well for someone who didn't have kids of his own.

"Time for bed," my mother said finally. "Say good night to Jakes, Sarah."

"Night, Jakes," Sarah said, waving.

"Good night, Sarah."

As she and my mom started from the living room, Sarah turned her head and said to me, "I like Jakes, Mommy, but he has a funny name."

Jakes just looked at me. "Yes, I do. Don't I, Sarah? Good night. it was fun reading to you," Jakes said.

I said quickly, "I'll be in to tuck you in, sweetie."

"Night, Mommy."

"Thank you. You handled that very well," I said to Jakes when we were alone.