“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“I want to get this movie right. He’s the one to give me the authenticity.”
My dad made a sound in the back of his throat that wasn’t exactly agreement. “He went to prison.”
“His conviction was overturned.”
“That kind of experience changes a man.”
I turned off the main road onto a smaller one that led away from town. “I’m sure it does. But that’s part of what I need to see firsthand. That and his way with the horses. Gaines said it’s like nothing he’s ever seen before.”
“I hope it’s worth it,” Dad muttered.
“It will be.” It had to be. For the first time, I was trying to step into Dad’s shoes. I’d be in front of the camera and behind it. I’d found projects before, taking on a producer role, but as soon as I’d read this script, I’d known I wanted to be the one to bring it to life at every stage of the process. The story had worked its way into my soul, and I needed to do it justice.
“Love you, Pop.”
“Love you, too. I’m here if you need me.”
“I know you are. Talk later.”
“Text me.”
I chuckled. “I’ll let you know the highway bandits didn’t get me.”
“Tell me where I went wrong in raising such a smartass.”
“I get it from you.”
“Don’t tell your mom that.”
I eased my truck around a turn. “Your secret’s safe with me. Later.”
“Later.”
My dad hung up, and I refocused on the road. We seemed to be curving around the mountain. The farther we went, the fewer and fewer gates I saw for homes and properties until they ceased altogether.
“You better not make a run for it out here. You’d get lost in a second.”
Peaches gave a good sniff of the air, her tongue lolling out of her mouth.
“Your destination is on your right. One mile,” my navigation system informed me.
“He’s certainly got the isolated thing going for him.”
I knew Ramsey Bishop didn’t want me here. Gaines, my key grip, who handled the camera team on as many movies as I could get him on, had met Ramsey in prison, doing a stint for jacking a car when he was seventeen. They’d become tight, and Gaines had called in a favor when I told him about this movie. But even if Ramsey were prickly, I could be charming when I needed to be. Schmoozing was required when you wanted films to get made.
I slowed my truck as I spotted a large sign that readPrivate Property Keep Out. A duplicate hung about one hundred yards down the road on the opposite side. A third read:This is your last warning. Turn around now.
Hell. I hoped I wasn’t about to get my ass shot. I came to a stop at a large wrought-iron gate. Rustic beams framed it, the earlier message punctuated by several cameras.
I rolled down my window and pressed the intercom button.
“What?” A rough voice cut across the line.
“Hey, it’s Boden Cavanaugh. I’m looking for Ramsey Bishop.”
“Let me see some ID. Hold it up to the camera.”