“Nothing you need to concern yourself about,” Hank assured him. He looked as if he’d be happier if Jonathan disappeared so that he could fuss over Callie and Terry.
Jonathan drew himself up to stare regally at the rest of them. His gaze lingered affectionately on Terry. “If my friends here are in danger, then I would like to do what I can to help.”
“Just try to remember anything more you can about that car or the person driving it,” Hank suggested. “We could use a good solid lead.”
Callie saw the genuine concern in Jonathan’s expression and said, “Hank, maybe we should fill him in. Another pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt, especially with the softball game coming up.”
Hank looked as reluctant as would any cop asked to confide in a civilian. His gaze clashed with Callie’s, but when she didn’t back down, he relented. “Okay, I suppose it can’t hurt. Let’s go on over to the deli since I assume that’s where you all were headed.”
Jonathan tsk-tsked as he heard the whole story about everything that had gone on since before Callie had joined the show. They skipped over any hint of what the person might be holding over Terry’s head.
When the explanation concluded, Jonathan looked at Callie. “Let me get this straight. Are you an actress or some kind of an investigator?”
“Actually, I’m really a Wall Street broker pretending to be an actress until something better comes along,” she said. The response was automatic, and not until it was out of her mouth did Callie realize that she no longer felt that way about the job. She’d actually begun to enjoy herself in this world of make-believe into which Jason had drawn her. She wasn’t too sure what to make of the discovery and now was hardly the moment to be reassessing her career goals.
“What?” Terry said, his gaze fixed on her.
“I’m actually beginning to feel more like an actress than a broker.”
He grinned. “I hear the ham factor is very similar.”
“Could we get away from the subject of acting for a moment and concentrate on coming up with a plan for that ball game?” Hank suggested. “Is there any way to withdraw the team?”
“Not a chance,” Callie said. “Jenny would have heart failure.”
Hank looked resigned...and worried. “Then we have to set up some sort of security perimeter.”
“Short of surrounding the ball field with cops on horseback, I don’t see what we can do,” Terry protested. “There’s not much control at an event like this.”
“You’re probably right,” Hank conceded with a sigh. “Maybe I can get some of my buddies to go undercover and help me keep an eye on things. I don’t want you two left alone for a minute.” He glanced at Jonathan. “You can’t say a word to the rest of the cast about this. There are some suspects there we’d rather not alert.”
The older man’s gaze widened. “You suspect people in the cast? My God, who?”
“It’s better if you don’t know that for now,” Hank told him. “This person has a nasty habit of going after anyone who gets involved. I don’t need to be worrying about another potential victim. Just stay alert to anything peculiar going on.”
Terry glanced at his watch. “We’d better get back.”
Callie’s muscles had stiffened up from her fall in the few minutes they had been sitting in the restaurant. She stood up gingerly. Terry watched her with obvious alarm.
“Are you okay? Maybe we should have you checked out at the hospital.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I’m just not used to being bounced around on asphalt like that. The kinks will work out in no time. We’re just lucky we’re not shooting some torrid love scene today. I have a feeling there’s a nasty bruise on my tush that all the makeup in Suzy’s kit wouldn’t hide.”
Jonathan chuckled. “You two are amazing. A close brush with death and here you are making jokes.”
Callie shivered at the reminder that the accident was meant to be far more serious than it had turned out. Only Terry’s hand, wrapped firmly around her own, kept her from bolting to the safe haven of her own apartment—though, come to think of it, that wasn’t so safe anymore, either.
Jenny Harding greeted them as they returned to the studio. “My God, are you all right?” she demanded, some sort of weird, breathless excitement in her voice. “I just heard about the accident.”
Hank stared hard at her. “From?”
“It’s all over,” she assured him. “Everyone’s heard by now.”
Hank muttered an expletive and kicked a metal chair into the wall. Jenny watched him, wide-eyed with dismay. Callie decided she’d better get Hank into her dressing room before he scared the poor PR girl to death.
“It’s okay,” she assured Jenny. “We were just hoping word wouldn’t leak out.”
Jenny’s head bobbed. “Oh, it won’t. Not to the media. I promise.” She looked vaguely disappointed. “Of course, the sympathy factor would be terrific for ratings.”
“Forget it,” Terry said tersely, brushing past her. He glanced back at her. “One word of this hits the papers and I will personally see to it that your career as a PR flack for this network goes up in flames. Got it?”
Tears welled up in Jenny’s eyes at the unexpected attack. She turned and ran.
“Did you have to be so hard on her?” Callie asked.
“Can you think of any other way to get through to someone who thinks only about what will increase ratings?”
“I suppose not.”
“I know not,” he assured her. “Which means we probably shouldn’t fill Jason in, either.” He gazed at Callie. “Should we?”
Callie had her own reasons for not wanting Jason to hear about this near-miss, and they had little to do with a debate over the merits of publicizing it. “No,” she said with a pointed look at Hank. “I vote he stays in the dark about this one. Hank?”
“I suppose,” he conceded with obvious reluctance. “For now, anyway.”
It was probably only concern over his own job security that made him agree, Callie thought cynically.
Terry glanced
