Callie regarded both men closely for any hint that there had been another threat tucked among this latest batch of gushing compliments. Apparently not, judging from their perfectly bland expressions. Either that or they were both exhibiting their acting skills for Jason’s benefit. Since Terry rarely wasted his talent on an audience this small, she doubted that was the case.
“I have an idea,” Jason said. “Since we’re all here, why don’t we have Chinese food for dinner?”
Callie and Terry exchanged glances. “Too much water retention,” they chimed in unison.
Neil rolled his eyes. “I may never forgive you for putting Callie on the air,” he said to Jason. “One actor around was bad enough. Now there are two of them primping and worrying about what they eat all the time. I haven’t had a decent moo shu pork with plum sauce in months.”
“Tonight you will,” Jason assured him. “I will fix it myself and if anyone gains so much as an ounce from retained fluid, I will personally provide access to a private steam room first thing in the morning.”
His gaze was locked on Callie when he made the promise. She had the feeling he wouldn’t mind at all starting the day stripped down and sweaty with her. She grinned at him. The prospect held a certain appeal for her, too.
“In that case, be my guest,” she said, pointing the way to the kitchen.
“I’ve seen your cupboards,” Jason protested. “Even with your mother here, your supplies are pathetic. So first, we have to shop for ingredients.” He glanced at Terry and Neil. “Do you two want to come along?”
“Callie and I will get things ready here. You and Neil go,” Terry said at once. “He gets absolutely rapturous over fresh produce.”
Jason seemed a little disconcerted by that particular prospect, but he shrugged gamely. “Let’s go, then.”
As he and Neil reached the door, Terry frowned at Neil with mock ferocity. “Now you be nice to the man. Don’t tell him the business he’s in sucks.”
Jason groaned. “Not another one. Between you and Callie’s mother, I may be forced to change careers.”
Neil grinned at him. “We can talk about it,” he said. “Did I mention I was a management headhunter?”
Callie laughed at Jason’s slightly frantic expression as the door closed behind them. She glanced at Terry. “Do you suppose by the time they get back, Jason will be CEO of some other corporation?”
“Entirely possible,” Terry confirmed as he grabbed silverware and plates from the kitchen and began setting the table as if he were in his own home. “Neil is very good at what he does.”
“I don’t know about that,” Callie retorted. “You’re still an actor, aren’t you? And he’s been working to change you for years now.”
“All talk,” Terry declared, folding the napkins into a fancy shape Callie would never have attempted. “I think he watches our show every day.”
“What makes you think that?”
“He’s gotten very nervous since you and I started having love scenes.” He winked at her. “Frankly, so have I.”
“I’m sure,” Callie retorted drily. “Be serious for a minute.” She gestured toward the new sack of mail. “Any problems in there? Is that why you wanted to see me alone?”
“What makes you think I wanted to see you alone?”
“The fact that you sent Neil off grocery shopping with Jason, instead of letting him stay here and rewash all my dishes so they shine to his satisfaction.” She noticed that he didn’t even try to contradict her guesswork. “What’s in the bag?”
Terry’s expression finally sobered. “Nothing.”
“Maybe that’s the end of it, then. It’s been, what, a week now since the last one?”
“Not quite,” he said.
He said it while looking everywhere but at her. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was hiding something. “Terry, what are you keeping from me?”
“It was nothing,” he said defensively.
“What was nothing?”
“It was just a phone call.”
“Just a phone call!” She regarded him incredulously. “Are you crazy? Why didn’t you tell me the minute it happened?”
“Because it was nothing,” he repeated, continuing to downplay it. Clearly, though, it had upset him enough for him to bring it up now, even with such a show of reluctance.
“Just a hang-up?” she persisted.
“No, the same message that’s been in the notes.”
Callie had done a lot of interrogations on the soap in the past few weeks. The technique had almost become second nature. “Was the caller a man or woman?”
“I couldn’t tell. The voice was muffled.”
“What time was it?”
“Ten-fifty-seven.”
“Were you on the set or in your dressing room?”
“Actually, I was in bed. It was 10:57 at night. Last night, as a matter of fact.”
Callie’s heart skipped a beat. Terry’s home number was unlisted and known to only a few close friends and even fewer people connected with the soap. He was obsessive about maintaining his privacy, determined to protect his secret for Neil’s sake and his own. Now he’d been called at home on a Saturday night by someone who, at the very least, wanted to embarrass him publicly if that’s what that “tell all” instruction was all about.
Was the caller hoping to ruin him? Was he or she counting on the public turning on Terry once his homosexuality had been revealed? Who would stand to gain from that? Another actor on the show? Or was it someone who was gay himself and resented that Terry was trying to pass as straight? Whatever the motivations, it appeared the stakes had just risen. The warnings were hitting too close to home to be ignored any longer.
“That’s it,” she declared. “We’re talking to the police first thing tomorrow.”
“We are not,” Terry retorted just as emphatically. “You’ll just step up your investigation a bit.”
“What investigation? I’ve been keeping my eye on people on the set to see if anyone’s been behaving suspiciously, but I’d hardly call that an investigation. I’m more and more convinced that those little accidents on the set weren’t accidents at all. This is serious, Terry. It’s
