A Script for Danger (Nancy Drew Diaries #10)(17)

We arrived at the craft service table to discover that once again Sal had abandoned his post. He hadn’t refilled the candy bowls either, prompting a frustrated “Harrumph!” from George.

“Nysa to Sal,” came a disembodied voice. I jerked my head around before quickly realizing that it was just Sal’s walkie-talkie, which he had left on the craft service table.

“Should we try to find him?” Bess wondered aloud. Before we could decide, Shea appeared.

“Where’s Sal? He’s not answering his walkie and we need hot cider. The actors are freezing!”

Since Sal was nowhere to be found, the three of us helped Shea look for the hot cider mix in his messy van. It truly was a disaster: disorganized boxes of snacks, some open, some empty; a large crate simply marked FRUIT AND STUFF; and soda cans flung everywhere.

“This looks like George’s bedroom,” Bess remarked.

George scowled at her.

“Hey!” Sal’s gruff voice came from behind us. “Get away from my van!”

“Well, we couldn’t find you, and Nysa is calling for hot cider on set,” Shea said defensively.

“Tell Queen Nysa to be patient for once in her life. I’m bringing it,” Sal barked. “Now scoot!” He turned to Bess, George, and me. “That includes you three!” he grunted.

Shea pulled us away. “I think it’s best to stay out that angry old man’s way right now,” he advised.

Back on set, the camera team was setting up outside the front door of the inn. Omar stood by holding a thermos of green juice, Brian’s script, and two blankets. As usual, he seemed to be struggling to keep everything balanced, even though I noticed he had started carrying a backpack to ease the load.

“Need some help?” I asked as the three of us approached him.

“It’s my job,” he insisted, but I could tell he was tired, so I took the blankets from him anyway. He didn’t protest.

“Brian is lucky to have such a devoted assistant,” I offered. “It seems stressful, especially with all these pranks.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Omar mumbled, avoiding my gaze. “Sometimes people don’t realize how hard this job can be.”

“So, is Brian really demanding?” I asked.

“All assistant jobs are difficult,” Omar said defensively. “But I love working for Brian! He gives me career advice all the time.”

“You’re an actor too?” I tried to conceal the surprise in my voice.

Omar nodded. “I was Brian’s understudy in a play last summer, and he offered me this job to help me learn the acting ropes. I haven’t had much time to audition since I started working for him, but I keep telling myself that it’ll pay off in the end. Kendall C. Rose knows who I am now, at least.”

“What do you mean?” asked Bess.

“I want her to sign me. You know, as a client!” Omar exclaimed.

“But why? She’s so—so—” George continued to sputtered.

“Hands on!” Bess finished. “She’s a really hands-on agent. Is it normal for agents to visit actors on set?”

Omar shrugged. “Sometimes. But Kendall hasn’t proven herself in the business yet. Her boss discovered Brian while Kendall was still an assistant. When Kendall was promoted, she took on more of the Brian-related work. Sometimes I think she feels a little insecure.”

“Kendall?” Now it was my turn to gasp. From what I had seen, Kendall seemed overly confident . . . to the point of being obnoxious.

Omar nodded. “Especially here. I think she feels like Alex doesn’t want her around. See, she tried to help Lali and Alex raise more money for The Hamilton Inn, but she fought with Alex when he insisted on hiring Zo? rather than a more famous actress.”

“So, Kendall didn’t want Zo? to be in the film,” I reasoned.

“Not really,” Omar answered, “but I think she’s coming around. Kendall is whip-smart, which is why I want her to represent me.”

“Omar!” Kendall barked from out of nowhere, interrupting our conversation. “You do realize these girls are press, right?” She stared at me angrily. “Lali finally let me in on your little secret. You’re a sneaky one, aren’t you? Asking me questions, pretending to be interested in Brian’s career.”

“I was just giving them general information about the film biz.” Omar gulped.

“And what you said about Brian earlier is completely off the record,” I quickly added. “I promise. We aren’t looking for gossip.”

Kendall gave me a sidelong glance. “You’d better be telling the truth,” she said. I wasn’t about to give up on Kendall as a suspect, but clearly I was going to have to be more delicate in my approach.

“I was just telling Omar how perfect Zo? is for this part,” I commented. “She’s talented, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Kendall replied coldly. She gestured toward Sal, who had finally appeared with trays of steaming-hot cider and—with help from Nysa and Shea—was passing them around the set.

“Great. I bet that’s made from some supermarket powder that’s filled with sugar and preservatives,” Kendall complained. She cringed when Brian took one of the cups from Nysa’s tray.