A Script for Danger (Nancy Drew Diaries #10)(3)

Even Mayor Scarlett was among the people who had collected around the television star. “It is such an honor to have an actor of your caliber in our small town,” she gushed.

Brian looked at her like it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.

“It’s an honor to be here, Mayor Scarlett. When I read Alex’s script, I knew I had to be a part of it. I even turned down the lead role in the Blue Ranger film because their shooting schedules overlapped.”

I raised my eyebrows at George, who, as usual, was glued to her smartphone. “What Blue Ranger film?” I whispered. She frantically typed on her touchscreen.

“A huge superhero movie that’s going to start filming in a month,” she replied after a few seconds. “It’s based on a comic book, and apparently the budget is”—George almost choked on the words—“two hundred million!”

Brian stood before his adoring crowd and announced, “Thank you all so much for coming. I have to step into my trailer for a moment, but I hope to have the chance to meet each of you in the coming days.” He walked toward the trailer labeled DYLAN before anyone, including Bess, could get an autograph. She came back to stand with us, dejected.

“I was so close!” she cried.

“Don’t worry,” I comforted her. “I’m sure Alex can make it happen.”

Right at that moment, Alex noticed us and started waving. “Nancy! Hey, thanks for coming.” He ran over and grabbed my hand excitedly.

“Hi, Alex,” I replied, shaking firmly. “These are my friends Bess and George, and my boyfriend, Ned, is over there taking photos. My dad really wanted to be here, but he got stuck in a deposition this morning.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I know how it gets with Carson.” Alex winked. “Anyway, stick around and I’ll introduce you to Brian later; he’s really nice.”

The woman in black pulled him away toward a podium. I caught Bess’s eye, which looked like it was about to pop out of its socket at the mention of having an actual conversation with Brian.

Meanwhile, Cora had repositioned herself and was standing next to me again, fiddling with her camera.

“Who’s that?” I asked, gesturing toward the woman in black. Cora glanced up. “Oh, that’s Lali. She’s the producer.”

George’s ears perked up. “I’ve always wondered what a movie producer actually does.”

“Lali does everything,” Cora replied. “She gave Alex notes on his script, made the budget, found the investors, and negotiated all the contracts. It’s her job to make the director’s vision a reality from beginning to end.”

George digested this information and asked, “So Alex decides how he wants the movie to look and feel and Lali makes it happen?”

Cora nodded. “Within reason, of course. But Lali’s been doing this for years. Alex is lucky to have someone like her on his first film. You know, because he’s still so green.” She made a face and ambled away.

After she had gone, George said, “The only person who seems green to me is Cora. Green with envy.”

Bess nodded. “You might be right about her, Nancy.”

A loud whistle silenced everyone, and a high-pitched female voice rose from the front of the crowd. “Hi, everybody!” An Indian girl in skinny jeans with her dark hair piled on top of her head stood on a black wooden box, brandishing a bullhorn. She was wearing a plain T-shirt and cargo pants, with a headset strapped on her head.

“I’m Nysa, the first assistant director for The Hamilton Inn,” she boomed. “We’re going to arrange a formal photo for the Bugle, so everyone please move to one side, okay?”

Nysa walked over to the food table, where a grizzly-looking man in his sixties was refilling the coffee machine, replenishing the pastries, and laying out an assortment of other snacks. He was dressed in a khaki vest and sun hat that made him look like he was about to go fishing.

“Sal, I’m going to need you to move craft services over to the other side of the lot,” Nysa instructed.

“Are you kidding me, Nysa? This is where you told me to put it. You want it moved, you move it!” Sal’s loud voice and harsh tone caught the attention of several bystanders.

“Why does it always have to be like this with you, Sal?” Nysa sighed, and a young man in his twenties came to help her move the table. I noticed that the man—probably an assistant—was formally dressed in a pressed white shirt and khakis, which made him stand out from the T-shirt-and-jeans-clad members of the crew.

“Be careful!” Sal groaned. “You better not break anything!”

“Wow. Someone sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Bess observed as Sal threw up his hands and marched away angrily, disappearing somewhere behind the trailers.

Alex stood in front of the crowd and spoke into a microphone. “Our producer, Lali, and I would like to thank the citizens of River Heights who have been so supportive of The Hamilton Inn. We’re pretty stoked to be working in my hometown.”

Everyone cheered. Lali took the microphone from him to say, “I’d especially like to thank Mayor Scarlett for allowing us to film here.” The mayor beamed as she stepped forward and stood next to Alex.

I suddenly heard sharp tones and a scuffle behind where we were standing, right in front of the trailer housing the bathrooms.