Page 29 of Dumbstruck
“That’s a strange prank to play,” I mutter, wishing I had taken the time to look at the cursed eggs rather than accepting the catering staff’s story point-blank. But why would I have done that?
June shrugs. “But did it work? Seems like it had some of you spooked.”
“Iwasn’t spooked,” I say. Totally lying. “But yeah, some of the crew are still convinced it was a supernatural occurrence. So this could be proof that there is someone out there trying to get us to leave. The question is who?”
“Phil Collins,” Richie says.
His tone is so matter-of-fact that I wonder if my mouth and brain aren’t connecting and I asked something different. “What?”
“The car last night. It belongs to Phil Collins.” Again, nothing about the way he says it suggests this is a strange joke he’s trying to tell; Richie is notoriously giggly when he tells jokes.
I rub my face again, marginally convinced I’m still asleep. “Are you telling me June’s stalker last night was a British rock singer?”
When June pats the top of my head, I feel extra baffled as she says, “It’s a good thing you’re cute, Jonah James. Phil Collins lives here in Laketown.” Then she heads back into the kitchen as if that’s a totally normal thing to reveal.
I jump to my feet to follow her. “One, I’m not going to forget that you think I’m cute. And two, I’m pretty sure Phil Collins doesn’t live in small-town Colorado. Last I heard, he was in Florida or something.”
Grabbing a frying pan of eggs from the stove and moving it to the table, June takes her time arranging the breakfast spread she’s made us. When she finally turns to look at me, her eyes are dancing with amusement. “Phil was born and raised here in Laketown and has never left. Obviously Richie didn’t mean the drummer from Genesis.” She gestures for me to sit and smirks.
As Richie takes the seat next to me, I glare at him. “You could have told me that part sooner.”
He shrugs. “Hey, I only got a name. This looks great, Miss Harper.”
Richie and I wait until June has served herself before we dig in, both of us taking far less of the bacon and eggs than we would if we were at catering. If we were home in Idaho, Dad would have made double the amount that June did for the two of us, but he also would have overcooked most of it. When Mom first got sick last year, my dad took on cooking duty, but he’s still getting the hang of things. Half the time, one of my sisters heads over to the farmhouse to make a bunch of freezer meals, and I’ve been considering hiring a chef for them so Dad can focus on the farm.
He’s long past retiring age, but he’ll only stop working the land when he’s dead. Even then, he might try to make it happen. He’s still spry and hearty, but I don’t know how long that will last.
I make another mental note to get in touch with my agent. I’ll need to be in as many movies as possible next year if I’m going to pay for a personal chef on top of everything else I secretly do for my parents.
“You look pensive,” June says, pulling my attention away from my plate. How long has she been watching me? “Are you still stuck on Phil Collins?”
I chuckle, wrinkling my nose at her. “While I’m disappointed that I won’t get to meet one of my music idols, my thoughts are elsewhere. But I appreciate your concern.”
“Idols, huh? Phil Collins?”
“It was the soundtrack to that Disney movie,Tarzan, that did it for me.”
June snorts out a laugh. “I never know what to think of you, Jonah James.”
I need to find a way to fix that. I don’t want her to always be guessing when she could simply take me as I am. “How can I change that?” I ask, reaching across the table to grab her hand.
Her eyebrows fly high, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. I’ll take that as a win. “Not sure,” she says. “Right now, I’m more focused on the fact that Phil tried to scare me last night. I don’t know the guy much outside of what I already told you, other than his sister also lives in town with a couple of kids, but he lives on his own. I don’t think he left the note the other night because he’s notorious for his atrocious handwriting.”
“And I don’t think he could have been the one to lock us in the props trailer,” I say, nibbling on a piece of toast and trying not to stare at the remaining eggs. June’s cooking is far better than catering’s. (In their defense, the catering staff is cooking for an entire film crew, and my nutritionist has kept my meal options pretty limited.) “It was decidedly a woman’s voice we heard.”
“You are aware people can disguise their voices, right?” June says with a smirk. “I thought you of all people would know that.”
“Maybe, but I have a sense for these things, and it was definitely a woman.”
Hopping from her chair, June searches through a drawer before returning with a pad of paper and a pen. Before she sits, she picks up the pan of eggs and dumps the rest on my plate. “I can make more if you need it.”
I always need it. My protein-heavy diet keeps me looking the way I should during filming, though I think my trainer would faint if she saw how much fat I’ve eaten this morning between the eggs and the bacon.
“I’ll be good,” I say instead of requesting more. “Thanks.” I offer some of the eggs to Richie, but he gestures for me to eat. He’s too good to me. “What are we writing down?”
As she settles back in her chair, June starts writing as she talks, which is insanely impressive. “We need to figure out who’s messing with your movie.”
“Because now they’re coming after you?”
