“Yes, I guess I am. I was looking for Rick’s dressing room, actually,” Nancy told her. Well, it was almost the truth.
“Continue down this corridor and make your first left,” Lillian snapped. “And by the way, it was nice knowing you. I’m sure now that Pappas has closed the set, you won’t be around anymore. Too bad. I’m sure you were Rick’s favorite little bodyguard.” With a smug smile, Lillian continued down the hall and disappeared around a corner.
The room that Lillian had come out of turned out to be the prop room. After making sure she was alone, Nancy ventured inside.
At first she was overwhelmed by what she saw. The room was huge, with several long aisles. Stacked from floor to ceiling, making an incredible clutter, were thousands upon thousands of items—anything that could ever possibly be needed on the set of the show. As organized as the room seemed to be, with everything numbered and labeled, there was no way to keep it all neat. Dust covered some of the items that hadn’t been used recently, and Nancy felt her nose begin to itch.
There seemed to be nobody there, but when Nancy sneezed, she heard a rustling in a far corner. A copy of the Daily News moved, and a grizzled head poked out from under it. The old man had a mop of unruly white hair flowing out from an ancient orange cap.
“Who’s there?” a crackly voice called. “I’m awake, I’m awake. On the job all the time, yessir! What can I do for you?”
Nancy couldn’t help smiling at the wizened old man. He wore red suspenders, which held up a pair of baggy gray pants, and he was covered with as much dust as everything else in the room. Nancy would have almost believed that he had been sleeping there uninterrupted for years.
“Sorry, I must have opened the wrong door,” she said, apologizing.
“Oh, it’s good to have a little company,” the man said. “This week has been just kitchen stuff and living room knickknacks, day after day. I’ve been sitting here reading my paper all week without seeing a soul.”
“But wasn’t the assistant director in here just a moment ago?” Nancy said.
“Who? Lillian? Nah, haven’t seen Lillian in ages. The only time she ever came into the prop room was to complain that a butcher knife didn’t look sharp enough. I had to put a little oil on it to give it that threatening gleam when the camera panned in on it. That’s an old prop man’s trick, you know.”
“Achoo!” Nancy couldn’t help sneezing again. “Are you sure no one was in here earlier?” she asked again, persisting.
“Absolutely one hundred percent, young lady. And nobody gets anything by me.”
That’s what you think, Nancy thought as she said goodbye to the prop man. As she stepped back into the corridor and made her way to Rick’s dressing room, Nancy’s mind was in a whirl. Maybe one of the fans from the tour group had tampered with the klieg light. She supposed it was possible. But even so, something funny was definitely going on. What had Lillian been doing in the prop room? And why was she so hostile? Nancy was determined to find out. And that meant she had to get onto the set again the next day and do some more checking around.
Here I am, she said to herself as she turned a corner and saw the familiar door with the star on it. Wait till I tell Bess what I found!
A moment later, after a quick knock, she threw open the door, smiling broadly. What she saw made her stop dead. Bess was in Rick’s arms, and they looked about a split second away from a kiss too steamy for TV!
Chapter Five
“Nancy!” Bess cried, awkwardly trying to disentangle herself from rick’s embrace.
Nancy looked from a blushing Bess to Rick and back, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but—”
“It’s not what you think!” Bess said, interrupting her as she tossed her blond hair over her shoulder and straightened her collar. “Rick just asked me to help him rehearse, that’s all.”