Judith McNaught by Perfect Read Free Book Online Page B

State Highway Patrol insignias
    into place for a chase scene that would be shot tomorrow. At the perimeter of the lawn beneath a stand
    of oak trees, trailers reserved for the main cast members were drawn into a large semicircle, their blinds
    closed, their air conditioners laboring in the battle against the relentless July heat. Beside them the caterer's trucks were doing a land-office business dispensing cold drinks to sweating crew members and
    overheated actors.

    The cast and crew were all seasoned pros, accustomed to standing around and waiting for hours in
    order to be on hand for a few minutes of shooting.
    Ordinarily, the atmosphere was convivial, and on the day before a final wrap, it was usually downright buoyant. Normally, the same people who were standing
    in uneasy groups near the catering trucks would have been hanging around Zack, joking about the trials they'd endured together or talking enthusiastically about a wrap party tomorrow night to celebrate the end of shooting. After what had happened last night, however, no one was talking to him if they could avoid it, and no one was expecting a party.
    Today, all thirty-eight members of the Dallas cast and crew were giving him a conspicuously wide, watchful berth, and all of them were dreading the next few hours. As a result, instructions that were normally given in reasonable tones were being rapped out with taut impatience by anyone in a position to

    give them; directions that were normally carried out with alacrity were being followed with the clumsy inaccuracy that comes when people are nervously eager to finish something.
    Zack could almost feel the emotions emanating from everyone around him; the sympathy from those who liked him, the satisfied derision from those who either didn't like him or were friends of his wife, the avid
    curiosity from those who had no feelings for either of them.
    Belatedly realizing that no one had heard his order to move the cattle, he looked around for the assistant director and saw him standing on the lawn, his hands on his hips and his head tipped back, watching one of the helicopters lift off for a routine run to the Dallas lab where each day's film was taken for processing. Beneath the helicopter, a typhoon of dirt and dust swirled and spread out, sending a fresh blast of hot gritty wind laced with the odor of fresh cow manure straight at Zack. "Tommy!" he called in an irritated shout.

    Tommy Newton turned and trotted forward,
    brushing dust off his khaki shorts. Short of stature with
    thinning brown hair, hazel eyes, and wire-rimmed glasses, the thirty-five-year-old assistant director had a
    studious appearance that belied an irrepressible sense of humor and indefatigable energy. Today, however, not even Tommy could manage a
    lighthearted tone. Pulling his clip board from beneath his arm
    in case he needed to make notes, he said, "Did you call me?"
    Without bothering to look up, Zack said curtly,
    "Have someone move those steers downwind."
    22
    "Sure, Zack." Touching the volume control on the transmitter at his waist, Tommy moved the mouthpiece
    of his headset into place and spoke to Doug Furlough, the key grip, who was supervising his crew while

    they set up a breakaway corral fence around the stable for tomorrow's final shot. "Doug," Tommy said
    into the mouthpiece.
    "Yeah, Tommy?"
    "Ask those ranch hands down by the pen to move the steers into the south pasture."
    "I thought Zack wanted them in the next shot."
    "He's changed his mind."
    "Okay, I'll take care of it. Can we start striking the set in the house, or does he want it left alone?"
    Tommy hesitated, looked at Zack, and repeated the question.
    "Leave it alone," Zack answered curtly. "Don't touch it until after I've seen the dailies tomorrow. If there's a problem with them, I don't want to spend more than ten minutes setting up for another take."
    After relaying the answer to Doug Furlough, Tommy started to turn away, then he hesitated. "Zack," he said somberly,