“What extracurriculars are you referring to, Mr. Englund?”
It was a fair question. Even before this film started, I wasn’t exactly Steve fromBlue’s Clues. It could be a plethora of things he was talking about.
Was it the sex or the murder?
He shook his head, his lips turning down into a sneer. “The deeds I am referring to are you deep throating this town’s top producers and directors to get gigs. Apparently, there are photos and videos of you doing whatever it takes to land a job.”
I laughed. He was mad about me being a slut for roles? No, this was just the excuse they’d be taking to the public. He knew. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stabbed Evie.
“What is this? Are you jealous you didn’t get topped before I got taken? I’m sorry you were a little too late, but I can ask my agent about securing a deal with a dildo company. Maybe we can make some molds of my cock for the Hollywood elite.”
“Enough!” he yelled over me.
I shut my mouth, satisfied I’d gotten a rise out of him.
He slammed his hands on his desk and stood. “There’s a good chance you’ll never work in this fucking town again once people know what you did to land those jobs. Now, if you want all this to end, I need you to do something for me.”
“I told you I was taken, Arthur,” I snipped.
“You’re a goddamn child. Actually, fuck it. I’m done. We know you two have been killing everyone involved in Lita’s death. People aren’t fucking happy.”
“People as in Elliott Bradley? You don’t know shit, and neither do I. I’m sorry people have been killed, but I can’t help you, Arthur.” I stood, but he lifted his hand quickly.
“Wait!” His voice held a desperation that interested me.
I paused, giving him a careful look. Why had he changed his tune so quickly? Did Elliott Bradley have something to say about this meeting?
“I want to make a deal.”
“A deal?” I cocked my head to the side.
“Please, sit back down. Let’s work this out.” His face flushed bright red.
Humoring him, I sat down and leaned back in the chair.
“We know it’s her and that she’s had help. Jason and Charles—those men were too large for a girl so small to take down on her own. If she’s anything like her mother, she could convince anyone to do what she wants. We know it was you.”
“Do you now? What proof do you have?” I asked.
Arthur glared at me but didn’t answer. “I thought giving her a good poke would be enough to scare her, but it didn’t do anything. If you agree to leave Elliott and me alone, I’ll make sure all that unsavory audition footage gets squashed. And I’ll give you a producer credit and a good-sized bonus.” He pulled a paper from the stack on his desk and offered it to me.
I scanned the contract. The offer for a producer credit and bonus was a number I’d never seen offered to me in my life.
“What if I’m not the killer? What if you die anyway? Then you’ve just made this offer for nothing.” I set the paper on his desk and reached for a pen.
He pointed to the bottom of the contract. “You’ll see at the end, if Elliott Bradley or I die in the next ten years, regardless of cause of death, the deal is off. Any monies paid will be owed back to the studio, and the proof of your sordid affairs with everyone in town will be released.”
I pulled away, pen still in hand, and shook my head. “No thanks. It’s clear someone has an issue with you. It’s not my fault if you get what’s coming. Release whatever you want. I’ll figure it out.” I stood to go, and he stopped me again.
“New deal!”
I sighed.
“One more scene. I want you and Evie to film a stand-off.” He shuffled papers and offered me a thin packet.
I took it and scanned the script.
“We don’t have proof it’s you helping her, but we know she’s the mastermind. We need you to scare her.”
