Waters Run Deep by Liz Talley Read Free Book Online Page B

Didn’t mean she hadn’t been one someplace else, which was why he reserved judgment on the woman and stopped poking around looking for info on her. He had no real reason to check her out—she’d done nothing wrong. Still, something told him it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get to know her a little better.
    The only thing he couldn’t figure out was whether his interest was strictly professional. He really didn’t want to think about it being anything more. He was good at hunches; bad at lying to himself.

    * * *
WHEN ANNIE WOKE UP the following morning, she felt as if she’d been run over and left for dead. Spencer had ended up in her bed at some point. She’d forgotten when. Some vague notion of 2:24 a.m., muttering “climb in” and then spending the rest of the night being kicked by a mule.
    She rolled over and looked at the mule sleeping peacefully on his back, mouth slack, brown hair sticking up like Billy Idol and jammies riding up over a plump little tummy.
    Little devil should be on a soccer team.
    She yawned in the bleary light escaping into the room through the heavy brocade drapes over the long windows. Had to be around 6:00 a.m. Her internal alarm clock woke her whether she needed to sleep longer or not. Leftover habit from high school when getting up had rested squarely on her shoulders.
    She slipped out of bed, brushed her teeth, pulled on shorts and running shoes. Spencer would likely sleep until seven-thirty or so. Plenty of time for a quick exploratory run. She’d head out to the highway and get a lay of the land and be back before Spencer demanded his Fruity O’s. But first she needed to let someone know she was leaving. After yesterday afternoon, she wanted the boy to be covered.
    She nearly ran into Carter Keene in the kitchen.
    “Up early,” he said, dumping creamer into his coffee. He glanced at her briefly before picking up a spoon. “Have you checked on Spencer?”
    “He’s in my bed still asleep. Are you the only one up?”
    “Yep. I need to get this movie in the can as soon as possible. The studio has another one lined up. Filming in Maine starts in December, so time is of the essence. We’re already behind.”
    He looked around as if on a covert operation. She looked around, too, wondering why he overdramatized everything. Then she remembered. He was a director. Hazard of the job.
    “So have you made any progress?” he whispered.
    Carter hadn’t talked to Ace in over a week, so the report was left to her. “We’ve done background checks on several of the investors of the Goliath movie, but haven’t found anyone indicating a desire to harm you. Mad at you? Yeah. Enough to do something to Spencer or Tawny? No.”
    He nodded, his gorgeous blond hair catching the weak sunlight, causing a sort of halo to frame his pretty-boy face. And Annie knew from the rumors surrounding Keene that he was far from angelic. “What about Rudy Griffin?”
    “Ace has one of his best guys working on his current whereabouts. From what we’ve learned, Rudy was on location in Oregon when the first note appeared. Right now, we’re not sure where he is.” Rudy was a stuntman who’d been injured on the set of Goliath, a big-budget movie that not only had a lion’s share of production problems, but also tanked at the box office. Carter Keene had earned plenty of disgruntled non-fans on that one, but none more so than the stuntman who accused Keene’s production company of unsafe and substandard practices. His burned arm had inflamed his need to bad-mouth and threaten Carter.
    Carter shook his head. “It has to be him. When I found that note, I knew he’d gone off his rocker.”
    Annie nodded. “Rudy Griffin made threats, but lots of people make threats. Doesn’t mean they’ll carry through with them. This could be a random crackpot, and we may never find out who sent the notes.”
    “But they feel so ominous…and personal.”
    “They do. But we may be grasping at straws. Ace will be in touch