Page 96 of Mountain Rescue
“He did.”
“I want to too.” He wanted to feel like he was a true partner, not just an employee.
“Money’s always welcome. How much you thinking?”
“How much you need?” When Jack raised his brows, Dallas couldn’t stop his grin. “Let’s just say whatever the amount is, you’d be hard pressed to scare me away.”
“You telling me all those times you let me buy you a beer you were a rich-ass dude?”
“Something like that.”
“Hmph. When you get settled, we’ll sit down and talk numbers. We have sponsors, and I work every day to line up more, but we have big plans for this place. Even with the sponsors and what Noah and I have invested, money’s tight.”
“I can help ease the load.” Considerably.
“Welcome aboard then.” He raised his fist, and Dallas bumped his against Jack’s. “I offered Rachel a job, by the way.”
That got his attention. “Doing what, and did she accept?”
When Jack told him what he had in mind for Rachel, Dallas agreed that the job description was perfect for her. But would she walk away from making movies?
“She hasn’t accepted yet. From what she told Nichole, she’s not happy anymore out there in La-La Land and is ready for a change. She’s interested in the job, but her reluctance is because of you.”
Yeah, she wouldn’t want to be around him if they weren’t together. “Maybe I can overcome that reluctance.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The stunt scheduled for today called for her to fall off a Jet Ski while being chased by the bad guy. After changing into a yellow bikini that matched the one the actress wore in the scene, Rachel went to the portable cabana where makeup was housed. Once a blond wig was secured to her own hair and makeup applied that made her look like Shayla, she headed to the Jet Skis parked near the ocean’s edge.
She’d practiced the stunt over the past few days, and the biggest trick when she fell off was keeping her boobs inside her bathing suit top when she hit the water. Shayla had nixed Rachel’s suggestion that a one piece would be more suitable for this scene.
There would be four boats with camera crews surrounding her and Jensen, the stunt double for the villain. They’d get film from the front, back, and sides. There would also be underwater cameramen waiting to film her when she fell off at the predetermined spot. The scene took place on the FBI profiler’s day off, and to work off the stress of her job, she liked to take her Jet Ski out in the ocean.
Rachel walked into the water and mounted her Jet Ski as the grip held it for her, while another grip did the same for Jensen. Shayla had already shot her scene on the Jet Ski, up to the point where the serial killer appeared and the chase began.
“Catch me if you can,” she yelled to Jensen over the sound of the waves, laughing as she took off. Once they were past the breakers, Jensen floated in place while she kept going. The director was in the boat in front of her, and because of the loud surf, the boats’ motors, and the whine of the Jet Ski, they were using flags. As soon as she saw the green flag, signaling “Action”, she became Glennis, the profiler out for a stress-relieving jaunt on her Jet Ski.
I should do this more often,Glennis thought, as she crested another swell.When her fellow agents caught the son of a bitch serial killer targeting young girls, all blond like her sister had been, she was going to take a week off and spend every day on the ocean, the only place lately that gave her peace.
A military helicopter flew over, and she watched it, looking over her shoulder as it passed her. Her gaze fell to another Jet Ski behind her, coming up fast. There was something about the way the rider was focused on her that set off alarm bells.
Her mind flashed to the warning this morning in her personal email. The sender had claimed to know she was profiling him...and yes, it was a man. She knew that because she was damn good at her job. With each profile she did, an image would form of what their unsub looked like, and her fellow agents claimed it was spooky how spot-on she usually was. In the email, he’d told her he was coming for her, and she knew, just knew, the man who’d killed seven—that they knew of—women was making good on his threat.
She was a profiler, not a trained agent, and her heart took a dive to her stomach as she wondered if this was the day she was going to die. She glanced back again. He was gaining on her. Nope, not dying today. She twisted the throttle to full open. What should she do? Get to the beach where there were people. He’d have to back off then.
That would have worked if she hadn’t stalled the Jet Ski by accidently hitting the kill switch. By the time she got it started again, he was close, too close, only a few feet behind her and not slowing down. She turned the throttle to the max, but she was too late. He rammed the back of her Jet Ski, sending her flying into the water. He circled around and aimed for her, trying to run over her. She inhaled air into her lungs, then dived, kicking her feet hard.
As choreographed, his Jet Ski barely missed hitting her head. She came up behind him, and when she saw the red flag on the lead boat, signaling filming had stopped, she swam in place until Jensen returned and stopped.
“Every time we do that one, I’m afraid I’m going to bash your head in when I ride over you,” he said after she climbed on the back of his Jet Ski.
That comment sent her straight to thinking of a cowboy she’d been doing her best to forget.
Late the next afternoon, Bran, the stunt coordinator, told her there was a change in the schedule. “Put the bikini back on, then meet me by the Jet Skis.”
“A retake? I thought we were good to go.” Oh, well, it wasn’t the first time she’d thought a scene was in the can, then had to do it again. She looked around. “Where’s Jensen and the makeup people?” The camera crew was set up, and the director was talking to her assistant, but Jensen was nowhere in sight.
