Ryan shrank away from my tone. “Well, that’s not the only reason.”
“Nice recovery.”
“C’mon. I’m in shock. Someone said they saw me switch the gun out of the car. They’re lying.”
“I heard that three people saw you get into the car,” I said. “Are you telling me that all three eyewitness accounts are lying?”
Ryan moved uncomfortably on his chair. He glanced out the window and subconsciously ran a hand through his hair. The movement was so familiar it triggered something in me, and a rush of emotions hit me—hard and fast.
I studied Ryan as he tapped his toe, looking forlornly into the distance. I remembered the better times, when his hand would rest on my knee while we sipped coffee, when he’d snuggle against me in bed on Sunday mornings. The time he bought me really nice shoes because I’d gotten a new job. He might’ve been an idiot, but he had good taste in fashion.
Though it was the last thing I wanted, I did feel a rush of sympathy for him. No one deserved to be accused of a crime they didn’t commit, especially murder, or attempted murder. I should know; it had happened to me... and not all that long ago when I’d been new to town, too.
“You’ve got to have a good answer,” I said. “If you can tell me why you got in that car on the set, that would be a great start toward clearing your name. Did you have a reason, Ryan?”
He glanced at me, then flicked his eyes down. “No.”
“You’re lying,” I shot back. When he glanced up, I felt my face turning pink. “I know when you’re lying.”
“Yeah.” He gave me a half smile that was too familiar. “I could never get anything past you.”
“Though you tried hard,” I retorted, then relented and spoke again, softer. “Come on, you can tell me.”
“It was nothing,” Ryan said. “You might have heard I’m a producer on the film. Well, I was just checking out the set to make sure everything was in place.”
“What was happening in the scene?”
“We were picking up filming when the car was parked,” Ryan said. “Emma Lou and Tennison were going to break up there, in the middle of the road. They were going to get out of the car; she was supposed to grab the gun and wave it around.”
“Was she supposed to shoot Tennison?”
“Yeah,” Ryan said, looking away again. “I mean, not really. It was supposed to be a funny scene. She would fire the gun in his direction, but it would hit him in the toe. Not the chest.”
“You mean—not at all,” I corrected. “Because it wasn’t supposed to be a real gun.”
“That’s what I meant,” he said. “But in postproduction, we were going to have it edited so that Tennison’s toe was shot.”
“Got it.”
“When it first happened, I don’t think anybody realized what happened for a few seconds.” Ryan closed his eyes, his face going pale. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to keep himself from passing out. “There was a loud boom, and he went down in a heap—screaming. We thought he was acting, but then... the blood. A second later, we realized the boom was, er, had been...”
“Real.”
“Yep.” Ryan blinked his eyes open. “There was a lot of blood. Then he went unconscious. Everything got quiet. Someone shouted to call 911, and we were all running around. They got him, carted him off right away. Supposedly, they’re taking good care of him. He’s got a good chance of living.”
“That’s good,” I said, not ready to add that I’d heard Tennison was actually in critical condition. “I hope he’ll make a full recovery.”
“Me too,” Ryan said. “He’s not a bad guy. That’s what I’m saying. I don’t have anything against him.”
“Okay, then,” I said. “If you didn’t do it—you didn’t do it. You’re innocent. Just remember that. If you’re innocent, there won’t be evidence against you.”
“Yeah, hey—yeah.” Ryan’s head shot up as he glanced at me. “You’re right, you know.”
“I do know,” I said. “I know what it’s like.”
Ryan gave me a soft smile. “You always did know what to say.”
He reached forward and took my hand in his. He held it tightly, and for a moment, it was like old times. I was transported then, right in that trailer, back to Los Angeles. It felt so real, I imagined that if I opened my door, I’d see the Hollywood sign in the background and the stars beneath my feet.
Then there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Ryan hollered, not bothering to remove his hand from mine.
My heart just about stopped at the sight of the person who stepped through the door.
“Cooper!” I flung my hand out of Ryan’s so hard his own hand dropped and clapped against his knee. “What are you doing here?”
“Cooper?” Ryan slowly stood. He glanced back and forth between us. “You mean, Chief Dear?”
“Er, yeah,” I said. “Small town. We know each other.”
Cooper spoke in a low sort of growl. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’ve seen her around. In fact, I thought she was going to be out of town today.”
“I, uh...” I wriggled uncomfortably. “Got back early.”
“I see that.”
Ryan’s look moved quicker and quicker between us, as Chief Dear and I stared one another down. Eventually, understanding seemed to dawn in his gaze. He glanced toward Cooper.
“There was nothing going on,” Ryan said to Cooper. “I just owed Jenna an apology and was, you know, taking a moment to do that.”
“Sure thing,” I said, wiggling my way around Ryan first, then Cooper, before jogging down the stairs. I turned, shielded my eyes from the glare of sunlight, and called back up. “On that note, you’re forgiven, and, uh, we’ll have to do this again soon. Er—I mean, scratch that. Good luck filming your movie.”
“That’s not all I had to say to you,” Ryan said. “Can I call you? We should grab dinner sometime?”
“Um, I’m gonna go,” I said. “Bye, you two.”
Ryan looked grumpily at the chief. Cooper looked grumpily at Ryan.
“I’ve got a few more questions for you,” Cooper said to Ryan. Then he turned and called after me. “I have one or two for you as well, Ms. McGovern. Don’t go too far.”
Chapter 6
When Cooper Dear told me not to go too far, I took that literally. I figured too far might be... the Mall of America. California. Timbuktu. I didn’t think it was necessary to wait around right then and there so he could ream me out for visiting Ryan. He had been looking pretty grumpy. There was no harm in letting him un-grumpify before we got the chance to talk.
I retreated to my favorite new refuge. With the summer planting season breathing down our necks, we’d been able to make more progress than I’d ever thought possible in the restoration of Gran’s greenhouse. By we, I mostly meant Matt, Cooper, and a team of men that June had put together as a thank-you for my help in clearing her grandson’s name of murder.