CHAPTER ONE
Aparking lot of carsstretched for a quarter mile before her, most abandoned pell-mell on the side of the road. She eased her foot off the gas pedal, slowly pulling up in the line of idling cars, their brake lights casting a surreal red glow over the area. Hordes of young women, teenagers, and tweens milled around, walking up and down the street, jumping recklessly between and around the idling and parked cars. Some were crying; many clutched cameras, posters, or autograph books, most with eyes glazed in the eerie red aura.
Good God, this is going to take forever!Roberta tried to sit still, but she kept looking around, her knee jiggling and her fingers tapping on the steering wheel as she waited. When her landlord had told her about the movie star moving in next door while on location for the summer, she hadn’t realized the mayhem it would cause.
A uniformed Melville police officer strutted from car to car, stopping to speak with each driver. The military cut of his dark blue shirt and rigid posture made it clear he was in charge. Decked out with a full belt containing a nightstick, mag light, and handcuffs, in addition to his sidearm, showed this was no small traffic detail. His pantomime advised a U-turn and departure. He shook his head and gesticulated with his thumb back to the main road. It was ten minutes before he approached her vehicle.
The creaks of his leather utility belt spoke business, although he stuck his thumbs in his pockets when he saw her face. His frown disappeared, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward. He was rather handsome with his crew cut and weathered face giving him a rugged appearance, perfect for an Army recruiting poster except for the twinkle in his dark brown eyes. “Can I help you, ma’am? Where are you heading?”
Trying to smile, yet knowing it wasn’t quite reaching her lips, Roberta said, “I live in one of the houses on Burgess Lane. Number Four Burgess. I’m on my way home from work.” She glanced back at the crowd. “Is all this commotion because of my new neighbor?” She nodded all around her car, indicating the chaos.
Officer Keary, his name badge proclaimed, panned the mob as he spoke, “Yes, ma’am. He’s moved into town today.” He turned back, deep furrow lines reappearing between his dark brown eyebrows and across his creased forehead. “If I can see your driver’s license to verify your identity on the authorization list, we can get you through this roadblock as soon as these other cars ahead of you clear out.” She handed over her driver’s license.
Officer Keary glanced up from her driver’s license when his police radio squawked unintelligibly and then handed the license back to Roberta with a curt, “Here he comes. Wait here. Stay in your vehicle.”
He strode off toward the emergency vehicle lane running parallel to the blocked-off lane she sat in. Roberta thrust her hand into her maple brown hair and twisted a handful tightly, teeth clenched and thoughts seething. She looked around at the straining young women trying desperately for a closer look at the approaching car.How much longer will I have to put up with this chaos? Surely this won’t last the entire time he’s here.
Quivering deep in her gut urged Roberta to open her car door enough to stand on the door jamb for a better view over the roof of her car. The mob of young females surged for the blocked-off lane, swarming like locusts around her vehicle to the edges of the barricades.
The odor of trampled grass, dirt, and sweating bodies mixed with clashing scents of perfumes. Cameras clicked and flashed around her as several police officers supported the sawhorse barricades when a sparkling, sexy, red Corvette approached. The din of female voices rose to a cacophony of screams so loud Roberta covered her ears. As the car rumbled up the lane, police officers strained to keep the barricades upright and the mass of young women behind them.
Twelve feet away, a pair of brilliant eyes locked with Roberta’s through the partially open driver’s window before turning to the road ahead of him. A masculine hand followed the glance, waving to the crowd from the driver’s window as the car maneuvered through the lane. Goosebumps broke out on her arms as Roberta’s insides fluttered. Heat spread like hot caramel, shooting straight up into her chest and down into her core.
Once through the emergency lane, the sports car sped off down Burgess Lane. Rapidly, the police blocked off the access again. The screech and screams of the assembly subsided into an excited chatter interspersed with sobs. Dazed by her body’s reaction, Roberta slid back into the driver’s seat of her car and closed the door while the heat in her body continued to roar.Ah, golly,Roberta stroked the steering wheel.He is hotter in person than on the screen.
She pondered the implications before the officer returned to her, stopping beside her car door where he took off his police cap and wiped his sweat-soaked brow with a grimy handkerchief. “That was close,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Noted. These throngs are crazy,” Roberta said, handing her license back to the officer. Fear seeped in, overshadowing the warm caramel feeling.These kids are crazy enough to do almost anything to meet Taylor Reyd. And who could blame them after a look at those eyes?She never paid much attention to the film industry or the movies out on streaming channels and in theaters. But she knew about Taylor Reyd. His face and exploits were lucrative for the scandal magazines.
“And it’s only Thursday. Wait until the weekend.” He took her ID again and radioed for verification before turning to her. “Your license says you’re from Massachusetts, but you live here in Melville? You know we have a sixty-day license transfer policy here in Pennsylvania, right?” The sparkle in his eyes had her relaxing despite his authoritative inquiry. They both knew he had bigger problems to contend with than handing out tickets.
“I’m leaving in September. I’m here on a temporary work assignment.” Roberta tentatively smiled. The last thing she wanted to do was get in hot water over not registering her car in her temporary home state.
“Got ya. Lucky you, renting a house on this street for your stay.” He snorted, jerking his head over his shoulder at the mob of females and the rock concert decibel din of noise they created.
She snickered. “Yeah, lucky me.” Then the laughter left her, and her voice took on a serious tone. “At least it’s quiet down there. As long as you guys can keep them here.” The unease in her belly remained. Why hadn’t she thought to move elsewhere when she heard the news weeks ago?
“You better lock your doors just in case. They’re already being pretty creative. Stopped two claiming to be delivering flowers in a florist’s van.” He picked up his radio to notify the front patrol a red Rav4 was coming through the barricade. “Have a good night,” he said, his fingers tapping the roof of her SUV.
Five minutes later, Roberta steered through the throngs of females, all suddenly screaming, gasping, and chattering with hope even though they had already seen Taylor pass through the lane. Those closest stopped screaming and crying when they saw it was only a woman, then glared with malice and envy when she entered the exclusion zone. Passing the last police barricade, Roberta exhaled, aware she was holding her breath through the gauntlet of several hundred of Taylor’s crazed fans.
It took the remaining quarter-mile trip down the road to settle her nerves. She kept glancing in the rear-view mirror, expecting to see hordes of females chasing after her. The road ahead remained blissfully empty and quiet despite the clamor of the swarm behind. An eerie halo of red brake lights grew smaller the farther away she drove like a malicious aurora borealis, complete with crazed zombies seeking the flesh of one hot movie star.
The pavement curved to the right exposing a deserted road before officially becoming Burgess Lane. Another sigh escaped her lips, relaxing her further. It felt like stepping beyond the line into no-man’s land. Spotting the upcoming driveways, Roberta loosened her white-knuckled grip on the wheel. All was still in the house next door, though it blazed with light throughout the first floor.
Thank God it’s quiet.Her shoulders relaxed. At least her initial concern, that it might be noisy next door with a famous tenant, failed to materialize. Taylor Reyd, Hollywood’s heartthrob, voted “Most Gorgeous Man of the Year” byPeople Magazine, was nowhere to be seen. A mischievous lady’s man, he was often reported at this party or that, giving him a scandalous reputation that led Roberta to expect loud parties and louder music to be pouring from the house. She expected the surrounding lawn to be holding hundreds of people roaming about, drinks in hand, all dressed very West Coast. Not that she knew what that was exactly. It certainly would be chicer and hipper than anything anyone in this town would wear.
Roberta mused as she pulled into her driveway.Of course, it’s peaceful. He’s just moving in. And it’s Thursday. Who can party on a weeknight and make it to work the next morning? Would all hell break loose on the weekend with bad boy Taylor Reyd?Like her, he was only here temporarily. He’d be returning to LA in a matter of months. If her landlord, Ralph Eagan, was correct, Roberta would be back home before the gorgeous movie star left. He wouldn’t fall for the simple girl next door. She should focus on the current assignment and earning that bonus.
The red Corvette sat beside two Cadillac Escalades in the driveway of his rental house. No sound or movement emanated from her new neighbor. She was relieved, yet a little disappointed, to have escaped another unsettling glance of the Hollywood movie star.
Her two-story gingerbread-style house sat silent like its mirror image next door. Every time she saw it, she marveled at the intricate woodwork, the scallop edges, and the fancy turned stiles of the front porch giving the house its Victorian character. Though getting on toward dusk, the fancy tri-colored painting of dark green, maroon, and ivory was still visible, giving a fairy-tale charm to the place. All it needed was wispy smoke coming from the chimney, a sprinkling of snow on the roof, and the twinkling of Christmas lights to top off the Thomas Kinkade feel of the setting.
On her way up the sidewalk, Roberta marveled that the somber brown, tan, and ivory color scheme of her house’s twin was the only difference between the two homes.
Her key slid in the back door lock to her house but found it unlocked. Thinking the landlord, Mr. Eagan, had been there and simply failed to lock up when he left, Roberta continued through the kitchen to the living room.Where are the dogs?Seemingly on cue, a whimper came from the bedroom. Had Mr. Eagan put them in there and forgotten to let them free before leaving? As she started out of the living room, she glanced up into the mirror over the sofa in time to see four more heads in the reflection.