Free Darkest Journey by Heather Graham Page A

shot came before the one he’d finished the other night, when the two men had been chasing her, ready to kill her because she’d discovered their plans.
    â€œThey only look good because of the great lighting,” Barry said teasingly. The actors only rolled their eyes.
    â€œYeah, right. Everyone goes to see a movie for the great lighting,” Jennie said drily.
    â€œActually, sometimes they do. They just don’t know it,” Barry said. “Lighting can be everything.”
    Brad cleared his throat. “Movies really belong to the director. All film buffs know that.”
    â€œGo ahead and delude yourself,” Mike teased. “Real aficionados know the cameraman is everything.”
    â€œThink what you want. I know what really matters,” Luke said, waving one hand dismissively. “Ever since the ‘talkies,’ sound has been the heart and soul of a film.”
    â€œI don’t even pretend people come to see who the makeup artist was,” Jennie said.
    â€œOr the prop master,” George put in. “But if you want my opinion, I say we stop this ridiculous conversation and head out for something to eat—and a beer.”
    â€œBut I just got here to help,” Charlie said.
    â€œToo late. You can help us choose a restaurant,” George said. “What’s the cool place to see and be seen in St. Francisville these days? Or, even better, relax and have a great, hassle-free meal?”
    Charlie thought of Mrs. Mama’s, a local café tucked away on a side street, where they could order some of the best shrimp and grits she’d had anywhere. “I know just the place,” she said.
    Twenty minutes later they were seated, and a waitress was hurrying over to them. Charlie was looking at her menu when she realized the waitress was standing behind her, waiting for her drink order.
    â€œWhat will you have, honey? Beer? Iced tea?”
    Charlie turned and started to speak, and then she gasped softly and said, “Nancy? Nancy Deauville?”
    It was the same woman who, ten years ago, had directed the action on the night Charlie was tied to a tombstone.
    Like everyone involved with that horror show, Nancy had apologized. She and Charlie had even managed to act cordial for the rest of the year; then Nancy had graduated, and Charlie hadn’t seen her since.
    â€œCharlie, great to see you here,” Nancy said. She seemed a little anxious and a little shy.
    As if she meant what she was saying.
    Charlie nodded. “Good to see you, too.” She meant it herself. Time had gone by; they were no longer teenagers.
    Nancy nodded. “I hear you’re a movie star now.”
    â€œHardly. Just a working actress. How about you? How is everything?”
    Nancy smiled, but Charlie thought it looked a little forced. “I married Todd Camp. The quarterback. We have two kids.”
    â€œCongratulations.”
    â€œTwins.”
    â€œGreat.”
    â€œSometimes,” Nancy said, then shrugged. “Sometimes when Todd is working at the garage all day, I bring the kids here with me, and sometimes they even behave. But I love them. Anyway, I’m so happy for you. You always wanted to act.”
    â€œWell, thanks. I’m not exactly a fixture on the red carpet, though, you know?”
    â€œYou’re doing what you want to do, and that’s what counts.”
    â€œThanks. Hey, how’s Sherry doing? You two were so close. Is she still around, too?”
    â€œSherry got married and moved to New Jersey.”
    â€œThat’s nice.”
    â€œNew Jersey? After here? I don’t know. But she has a family, became an LPN.”
    â€œSo. Twins,” Charlie said into the awkward silence that followed Nancy’s updates. “No kids for me yet, but one day, I hope.”
    â€œI’m sure it will happen for you. As for me, I just hope for a vacation one of these days. Anyway, what can I get you?”
    â€œIced