Teddy Fay returns to La-La Land in the latest thriller from #1 New York Times-bestselling author Stuart Woods.
Teddy Fay is back in Hollywood and caught in two tricky situations. First, a rising star at Centurion becomes the target of malicious gossip, and Teddy must find and neutralize the source before the situation gets out of hand--or becomes violent. At the same time, Teddy finds himself targeted by a criminal thug bearing a grudge.
It's a lot of knives to juggle, even for a former-CIA-operative-turned-movie-producer accustomed to hazardous working conditions. This time Teddy will need to leverage every bit of his undercover skills and fearless daring to stay one step ahead of his foes . . . or he'll find himself one foot in the grave.
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Stuart Woods is the author of more than eighty-five novels, including the #1 New York Times-bestselling Stone Barrington series. He is a native of Georgia and began his writing career in the advertising industry. Chiefs, his debut in 1981, won the Edgar Award. An avid sailor and pilot, Woods lives in Florida, Maine, and Connecticut.
1
Teddy Fay woke up to the sound of breaking glass. He grabbed the remote control from the nightstand and clicked on the monitor of the high-tech security system Mike Freeman had installed in his house. A dozen views appeared showing the exterior, a red dot pinpointing the source of the break-in. Another click of a button and the image moved to fill the screen; Teddy could see a burly man attempting to get through the living room window. He was being thwarted by a second pane of glass that was far sturdier than the one he'd just broken.
Teddy grabbed a gun, slipped down the stairs, out a side door, crept up on the man, and jabbed the gun in his back.
The man whirled around and lunged for the gun.
Teddy groaned. Really? If Teddy had wanted to shoot him, the man would be dead. A mere burglar wouldn't take that chance. Was he a hired assassin, or just dumb?
Teddy spun around and chopped down on the man's arm. The intruder howled in pain, but he wasn't done. He shoved his wounded hand into his pocket and came out with a snub-nosed revolver.
Teddy almost felt sorry for him. The man's hand was numb, and he could hardly hold the gun. Teddy batted it away.
Three armored security vans roared up the driveway. A squad of Strategic Services agents poured out, guns drawn.
"Relax, gentlemen," Teddy said. "The situation seems to be in hand."
A young agent who appeared to be in charge said, "You're Billy Barnett?"
"At your service."
"Your system registered a security breach. Is this the intruder?"
"That he is."
"We'll be happy to take him off your hands."
"I doubt if you'll have him long. The system is also linked to the police. I believe that's them now."
A police car came up the drive with its red and blue lights flashing. A uniformed officer climbed out of the driver's seat, surveilled the scene, and said laconically, "What's all this?"
"Attempted B and E," Teddy said. "I'm the homeowner. That's the intruder. These gentlemen are private security guards who responded to my alarm."
The officer turned to the agent. "You apprehended the intruder in the attempt to break and enter?"
The agent shook his head. "The homeowner apprehended the intruder."
"Before you got here?"
"That's right."
The cop turned back to Teddy. "So you're the only witness to the attempted break-in?"
"Aside from the alarm system he activated."
"There's no evidence he activated the alarm system."
"Actually, there is. This is a Strategic Services system, with all the bells and whistles, including cameras. Here, take a look." Teddy led the officer over to the front door. "The main control is in the master bedroom, but this is the downstairs terminal." He pointed to a screen on the wall, and activated the control panel beneath it. An image immediately appeared on the screen, along with a graphic that read: front left window. The intruder had just smashed the outer window and was going to work on the inner. As the cop watched, he could see Teddy creeping up on the intruder and handily disarming him.
"There you are, Officer," Teddy said. "As you can see, it was an armed B and E. I'll give you a thumb drive of the video for evidence."
"You have a gun?"
"I have a permit for it."
"Good. Bring it down to the station with you, and you can swear out a complaint."
Teddy glanced at his watch. "I'll drop by later. Right now I've got a party to go to."
"A party? It's four in the morning."
"Yeah, the party's at five." Teddy smiled. "Good thing the guy woke me up. I might have been late."
2
It was still dark when Teddy pulled his 1958 D Model Porsche Speedster to a stop in front of Peter and Hattie Barrington's house. He skipped up the front steps and rang the bell.
Peter Barrington opened the door. "Come in, the gang's all here. The TV's on and they're about to start."
"Relax. It's the technical awards first. They don't get to the real thing until five-thirty."
"I'll be sure to tell lighting and set design what you think of them," Peter said dryly.
Teddy followed Peter out onto the veranda, where Hattie was sitting with Ben and Tessa.
Peter's wife, Hattie, was a gifted composer and pianist, and had scored Peter's latest movie, among others.
Ben Bacchetti was the head of the studio. He was also Peter's best friend of many years. Their fathers, Stone Barrington and Dino Bacchetti, were also best friends.
Tessa Tweed Bacchetti had come to the studio as an aspiring young actress. She was now a star, and Ben Bacchetti's wife.
Teddy had been in England for Peter and Hattie and Ben and Tessa's double wedding. The young newlyweds were only partly aware of the role he had played in seeing that it went off without a hitch.
"There he is," Tessa said. "I told you he'd be here."
"Sorry I'm late," Teddy said. "Someone tried to rob me."
"Rob you?" Ben said.
Teddy shrugged. "Rob me or kill me, I'm not sure which. The police are asking him now."
Tessa grinned. "Would you stop being so maddeningly casual? You may take these things in stride, but robbing and killing are not really that routine."
"Well, I certainly hope to learn more about it, but the police have taken it out of my hands. The burglar couldn't get through Mike Freeman's security system, but he sure set off enough alarms. The poor guy never knew what hit him."
"I'll bet," Ben said.
"But don't let me spoil Oscar nominations morning. I was just explaining why I was late."
"The only thing that could spoil this Oscar morning," Hattie said, "is having a nervous breakdown waiting for it."
"Who's nervous?" Peter said. "No one's nervous."
"No one, I'm sure." Hattie smiled teasingly. "Has anyone else noticed who hasn't sat down once since everyone arrived?"
"I'm the host," Peter said. "I'm greeting my guests."
"I can attest to that," Teddy said. "I arrived. He greeted me. He was a little concerned by my tardiness, but I wouldn't characterize it as being nervous."
Peter put up his hands. "Yes, yes, we can all play it cool. But it is the Oscars. Before they get going, let me say this."
Peter took a breath. "I think it's great we could get together this morning to celebrate our film. But while awards are nice, that's not why we do this. We're not out to win awards, only to make good movies. If we can do that, and turn out a film we can be proud of, we don't need outside validation. We know we've done a good job. You all know how I feel about you, and awards or not, I'm very pleased with how this all turned out."
"Well, that's gracious and self-deprecating," Ben said with a grin. "In case you don't remember, your picture just won a Golden Globe. An Oscar nomination is not such a long shot."
"It won for Best Drama," Peter said. "At the Globes you're only competing with half the films. There's a strong field of comedies this year."
Hattie laughed. "Would someone nominate him already, before this naysayer ruins the whole party?"
Hattie got the first...
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