Oh, yeah, it was going to be a long, long wait for that film to start shooting next month.
* * *
Noah paced, checked his watch and paced back the other way. He not only had to get this shoot over with, he needed to run by the assisted-living facility to check on Thelma. He wasn’t happy with the afternoon nurse and he wanted to pop in unannounced. And then he planned to meet up with Max.
“Listen, Noah, I can only give about five more minutes,” the photographer told him. “Then I’m going to have to reschedule. I have another shoot later this afternoon I need to set up for.”
Hands on his hips, Noah stopped and nodded to the photographer. “I’m sorry, man. I’ve tried her cell several times. This isn’t like her to be late or blow off a job. She’s very professional.”
They hadn’t been out late the night before, but had she gone back out? Flashes of Malinda making promises to show somewhere flooded his mind. He’d usually found her at home, strung out and totally out of touch with reality.
He hated to think the worst of Callie, but he’d been lied to and deceived for so long before Malinda’s death that it was just hard to trust anymore. Added to that, he wondered where Callie put all her money. She always packed her lunch and drove a clankity, beat-up old Honda. He hadn’t seen any signs of drug use, but most new users didn’t use all the time, and the signs were slow in coming. Besides, just how well did he know Callie aside from at the office? For all he knew, she partied all weekend.
The image of Malinda just before her death, dark eyes, pale skin and sunken cheeks, still haunted him and he’d hate to see the vibrant Callie Matthews fall into that dark abyss.
Callie had always been a professional, though, and she had never been late for anything. She was a bright spirit and he wanted to believe deep in his heart she was an innocent. Something was wrong.
He pulled his cell from his pocket and tried calling again while the photographer started taking down his equipment. A sinking feeling settled deep in his gut each time her chipper voice mail clicked on.
He’d left enough messages and texts, so he hung up and slid the phone back into his pants pocket.
“I’ll pay you for your time today, Mark,” Noah said. “Can we go ahead and reschedule for next Saturday? Same time?”
Mark nodded. “Sure thing. And don’t worry about paying me today. Things happen.”
Noah helped Mark carry the lighting and some other equipment to h
is waiting car. By the time all of that was done and Mark had left, almost another hour had passed and still there was no word from Callie.
If he weren’t so worried, he’d leave her be. She was an adult, after all. But there was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that something wasn’t right. Whether she was hung over or had been in an accident, he didn’t know.
Before he stopped at the assisted-living home, Noah thought he should at least drive by Callie’s place to check on her. She was, after all, alone in L.A. with no family here and no roommate. He just needed to make sure she was okay.
Endless possibilities flooded his mind. As morbid thought after morbid thought raced through his head, his cell rang. Panic filled him instantly, but relief slithered through. Hopefully that was Callie on the other end ready to apologize for being late.
But when he glanced at the caller ID and saw Private Caller, his hope died. He punched the button on his car to put the call on speaker as he drove down the freeway toward her apartment.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Foster?”
Not recognizing the voice, he answered, “Yes.”
“This is Marcia Cooper. I’m a nurse in the E.R. at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. We have a Miss Matthews, who was brought in to us. We tried calling one of her neighbors, but we couldn’t get her. Callie suggested we try you next.”
Fear gripped Noah, but if she’d mentioned his name and number she was at least coherent. “Is she all right?”
“I really cannot discuss her condition over the phone,” the nurse told him. “Are you able to come in?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Noah pushed the pedal farther, weaving in and out as best he could with the thick afternoon traffic. The thought of Callie hurting in any way made his stomach clench. He’d only known her to be vivacious, full of life and always smiling.
He understood the nurse was not able to disclose any information due to privacy laws, but knowing Callie was in the E.R. and not knowing her condition scared him more than before he’d gotten the phone call. Did she have a cut that just needed stitches? Had she fallen and hit her head? Had she been attacked?
Damn it. Where had she been when she’d gotten hurt?
A vision of his late fiancée crumpled on their bedroom floor flashed through his mind, but he quickly blocked the image. He couldn’t travel down that path. Right now, Callie needed him.