She waited, but Casey didn’t speak. “Damn! Now I’m wondering about the next thing Tate wants me to do. He said I should put on heavy clothes and go through some thorn bushes. He said there’s a…” She checked her notes. “A well house? I’m a city girl. I have no idea what that is. But I’m supposed to peek through a window and take pictures of him inside it. Maybe they’re some kind of art photos. Whatever they are, he thinks that if they’re published, they’ll renew interest in him as a romantic hero. He’s worried that younger guys are going to knock him off his pedestal.”
Rachael turned to look at Devlin by the stream. “I think we better go. I have a lot to do.” She stood up, gave a loud whistle, then motioned for him to return.
Casey was sitting on the quilt, as still as if she were frozen—or dead. All of Rachael’s words jumbled together so that she could barely think clearly. The
well house. The rescue. That dear little boy. All done for Tate Landers’s career? All a publicity stunt?
Rachael looked down at her. “I think I’ve upset you. Why don’t you go back to the car? We’ll clean this up.”
Casey managed to stand up, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t repack what she’d cooked. She stumbled to the car, opened the back door, and got in.
The only thing in her mind was that she must warn Gizzy. The men were in it together. They weren’t real. They had come to a small town and found two females willing to go to bed with them. And poor Tate had been stuck with the “fat one.” Too bad he hadn’t shown up at the theater earlier that first day so he could have had the town beauty.
She watched as Rachael and Devlin put away the picnic things. She seemed to be bawling him out. Rachael was probably chastising Devlin for neglecting to let her know that Casey was the current bedmate of Tate Landers.
Tate had hired Rachael to photograph them inside the well house! Her stomach turned over.
As Rachael and Devlin started toward the car, Casey tried to get herself under control. Okay, so she’d fallen for a movie star’s tricks. She could write it off as a learning experience. Someday she might even be able to laugh about how naïve she’d been. For all that she’d thought she was keeping her emotional distance from Tate, she hadn’t succeeded.
What was important now was to warn Gizzy that she too was being used. And, also, Casey knew she could not tell anyone what was going on. Later, when the “rescue” was on the front pages of some news magazines, she’d be able to say, “Of course I knew it was all a stunt. That child was securely tied onto that roof. No, no, it was all done for publicity and I knew it.”
She picked up her phone and sent Gizzy a text. MEET ME AT MY HOUSE IN AN HOUR. IMPORTANT NEWS TO TELL YOU.
As Devlin drove them back to Summer Hill, they were all silent. Rachael seemed to be too angry to speak, and Casey didn’t want to. When Devlin stopped at a hotel to let Rachael out, she turned to Casey.
“I am really sorry about all this. I didn’t understand what was going on. I think I should tell you that—”
“You’ve said enough for one day,” Devlin said sternly.
“You bastard!” Rachael got out of the car and slammed the door, but she looked back. “Casey, I—”
She didn’t hear any more, because Devlin sped away.
At Tattwell, he had to go through a guard at the gate, then he drove Casey to her house. He got out and opened the door for her. “I can’t apologize enough for what Rachael told you. But then, it’s been very hard for me to stand by and see what my ex-brother-in-law has been doing to you.”
“I can’t take any more. I’ve reached my limit.”
“I know,” he said gently. “But don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make you a drink or two and we can sit and talk and—”
Casey stepped away from him. “No. My sister will be here soon and no offense, but I may never want to see a man again.” She went into her house and shut the door firmly behind her.
—
Devlin stood there for a moment staring at it. Damn Rachael! She overdid it. She was supposed to make Casey turn to Devlin in tears. But then, what had he expected? She always was a bad actress. Now that he thought about it, she was probably the main reason his show failed.
But at least Casey wouldn’t welcome Landers back with open arms. That had been achieved. And he’d done it all by himself, without any help from anyone. If Rachael thought she was going to be paid for this screw-up, she was mistaken.
He took out his phone and called the PI.
“I was just going to call you,” the man said. “You’re not going to believe what I found out about this Christopher Montgomery and the former Miss Olivia Paget. This time, you’ve hit the jackpot.”
“It better be good. I’ve had a rotten day. Why can’t people ever do what they’re supposed to?”
“You’re going to be happy after you hear what I found out.”
Twenty minutes later, Devlin Haines was smiling broadly. He felt so good he thought he’d go to Rachael’s hotel, let her yell at him some, then get her clothes off. If she was really, really good to him, he might be persuaded to pay her half of what he’d said he would. She should be grateful, since she didn’t deserve any of it.
By the time he got to his car, he was laughing. Before long he’d have that Jaguar Landers had refused to buy for him. No! With this news, he wanted a Maybach.