Claire spent the rest of the day on vampire patrol, according to Mal. She closed and locked her bedroom windows and got a wooden stake out of the garden, even though she wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to do with it. Mal decided not to tell her about driving it through a vampire’s heart, since she knew that would only freak Claire out. Claire also made sure she had a turtleneck shirt laid out to sleep in, since she figured the vampires couldn’t bite her neck if they couldn’t see it.
By the time Mal called me that night, all the Pikes were home and Claire was getting ready for bed. “I don’t know when I’ll be on the set again,” Mal said, sighing. “And I don’t know how Claire’s going to shake her fear of vampires.”
I sympathized. “I’m really sorry about what happened,” I said. “So’s Derek.”
“Speaking of Derek,” Mal said, “he is such a good actor. I heard a few people talking about him as I was leaving the set. This blonde girl said he was turning into even more of a star than Carson!”
“He is good,” I said, feeling kind of proud, even though I had nothing to do with Derek’s talent. Just then, I heard some muffled yelling over the phone line. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s Claire and Margo,” said Mal, sounding tired. “Claire’s insisting on sleeping with the overhead light on in their room, and she and Margo are fighting about it. I better go.”
I said good-bye to Mal and went to bed myself. I was exhausted after a whole week on the set. As I drifted off to sleep, I found myself remembering how, when I was little, I went through an awful phase of being afraid of mummies. I decided that I owed it to Claire to help her get over her fear of vampires — if only I could figure out a way.
“It always makes me so nervous when he does his own stunts,” said Mrs. Masters. She and I were sitting outside the makeup trailer; Derek was inside, being made up for Wednesday’s shoot. The set was buzzing, as usual, with crew people running back and forth, gaffers setting up lights, and actors clustered near the caterer’s truck across from us.
“But everybody says this one is totally safe,” I said. “And Harry says it’s the only way, since they need a closeup of Derek’s face.” I watched a guy in a Dodgers cap trundle a cart full of costumes through the crowd. Charlie trotted by with his hands full of wires and cables and waved to me with one pinky. I waved back.
“I know.” Mrs. Masters sighed. “I’m sure it will be fine. But I still wish there was some way Cheryl could do it.”
Cheryl is a stuntwoman. She’s small, so she works perfectly as a stand-in for Derek. She had already done some stunts for the other actors: flying on wires through the gym, for example, as one of the vampires. But that day, she wouldn’t be needed.
Mrs. Masters had come to the set for the morning, even though I was there to watch Derek, and Claud was on hand to watch Todd who would be shooting his first scenes later that day. Mrs. Masters had told me that she always made it a point to be on the set when Derek was doing a stunt.
Derek’s stunt that day was nothing too fancy. All he had to do was fall through a pane of glass. That may sound dangerous, but it really wasn’t — or at least, that’s what I had been told. See, the “glass” would actually be this stuff they call breakaway glass, which looks just like glass but shatters safely on impact.
The scene they were shooting was supposed to take place at the end of the party, when the vampires are going wild. When Derek’s character tries to keep one of them away from a girl — the same red-haired girl “Jason” was talking to earlier — the vampire shoves him through a window. The shot would show Derek falling through the window in slow motion, with a closeup on his face.
“Isn’t Derek ready yet?” That was Todd, who had just popped out of his own makeup trailer, with Claudia in tow.
“He’ll be done any minute,” said Mrs. Masters.
“I’m thirsty,” said Todd.
“Why don’t you go get a soda?” asked Mrs. Masters. “We’ll be right here.” Todd ran over to the caterer’s truck, and Mrs. Masters turned to Claudia.
“How do you like being on the set?” she asked.
“It’s great!” said Claudia. “Missy just gave me a whole bunch of really cool makeup tips.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Being a movie makeup person seems like a neat job.”
“You’d be great at that, Claud,” I said. “Or you could do costumes.”
Claud nodded. “I’m going to ask Missy how you train for jobs like that.”
Just then, three things happened at once. Derek came out of his trailer, looking spiffy. Mrs. Masters said, “Now where is Todd?” And I heard an unmistakable sound from behind me: the sound of glass shattering.
Claud and I stood up and turned to see what was going on. Three assistants with clipboards ran past us, toward the prop truck. “Oh, my lord!” said Claud, when she saw what had happened.
Todd was standing next to the prop van, looking stunned. Zeke Hill was alternately glaring at him and staring down at the ground, where a pile of glass shards lay around his feet. “I — I didn’t mean to —” said Todd. Zeke’s face was white this time, instead of red, but other than that he looked just the way he had the day Derek broke the lamp.
Mrs. Masters jumped up and ran over to Todd, with Claudia, Derek, and me right behind her. “What happened, baby?” she asked, bending down to hug Todd.
“I was just walking along kicking this rock,” said Todd, “and then it went into the glass and broke it. I didn’t mean to do it!” he said again. “It was an accident.”
I looked at Zeke. Why wasn’t he yelling? He was just standing there, shaking his head and looking bewildered — and shocked. “This shouldn’t have happened,” he said slowly.
“I’m so sorry,” said Mrs. Masters. “We’ll pay you for it.”
“It’s not that,” said Zeke. “What I meant was, this was the pane of glass for Derek’s stunt. It was supposed to be breakaway glass.”
Suddenly, a light seemed to dawn in Mrs. Masters’ eyes. “But if he had —” She stopped and put her hand over her mouth.
“That’s right,” said Zeke, nodding. “If Derek had fallen through that” — he pointed at the pile of broken glass — “he could have been badly hurt.” He shook his head again. “I just don’t understand it,” he said. “I ordered breakaway glass, and that’s what I received. I even double-checked it, just to be sure. Where did this other stuff come from?”
Derek and Todd were standing between me and Claudia, staring at the pile of glass. “Wow,” breathed Todd.
“You can say that again,” said Derek. He looked scared. I put my arm around his shoulders. I couldn’t believe what a close call he’d had.
“I feel terrible,” Claud whispered to me. “I was supposed to be with Todd.”
“What’s going on here?” roared a voice behind us. I turned to see Cliff Chase, the producer, elbowing his way through the crowd of people that had gathered.
“I don’t understand it, Cliff,” said Zeke. “This was breakaway glass, I know it was.”
“Sure doesn’t look like breakaway glass,” said Cliff, nudging the pile with his foot. He looked over at Mrs. Masters, who was pale and shaken. He took her elbow. “It’s all right,” he said. “Derek wasn’t hurt, and he’s not going to be.” Then he bent down and spoke to Derek. “I guess this is why the studio’s lawyers don’t like actors doing their own stunts,” he said. “Don’t worry, Derek. Cheryl’s going to be taking care of all of your stunts from now on.” Finally, he straightened up and turned toward Zeke. For a second, he just glared at him. The crowd grew quiet.
“You’re fired,” he said evenly. “I want you out of here. Now.”
“But I —” Zeke began. His face was red again now. He looked completely humiliated.
“Now!” said Cliff. He turned away from Zeke, looking disgusted. He spoke quietly to the assistant at his elbow. “Call the agency,” he said, “and get me another propmaster, pronto. I want somebody here by tomorrow.”
The assistant scurried off. Then Cliff turned to the crowd. “I’m shutting down the set for the rest of the day,” he announced. “Shooting will start again tomorrow at eight.” He gave one more disgusted glance at Zeke and stalked away.
The crowd stood silently for a second. Then one of the gaffers spoke up. “Tough luck, Zeke,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Zeke. He didn’t look humiliated any more. Now he just looked angry. Some of the other workers tried to speak to him, but he brushed everybody aside and disappeared into his van.
“I don’t believe it,” said Claud. “How do you think that happened?”
“I can’t imagine,” said Mrs. Masters, who was looking a little calmer by then, “but I have to admit I’m not sorry to see Zeke go. I never quite trusted him. He has a terribly short temper.”
“Especially around kids,” I said, remembering how he’d shouted at Derek.
“I don’t know,” said Derek. “I think Cliff could’ve given him a break. Why’d he have to fire him?”
Derek is such a nice kid.
“I don’t think Cliff and Zeke get along all that well,” Mrs. Masters said. “I’ve heard rumors about a feud between the two of them.”
“Can we go home now?” asked Todd. “I want to try out that new Nintendo game we bought.”
“Sure, honey,” said Mrs. Masters. “But why don’t you get that makeup off, first?” She sent the boys into their trailers and turned to Claud and me. “Claudia, please don’t feel that this was your fault in any way. I was the one who told Todd to go get a drink. Maybe it was for the best, too. After all, if Todd hadn’t broken that glass, Derek might have been badly hurt during his stunt. Anyway, I guess you two have the rest of the day off,” she said. “Enjoy it!”
Claudia seemed relieved by what Mrs. Masters had said. Then she frowned. “I was kind of looking forward to being here,” she said. “It was going to be my first whole day on the set.” Then she looked over my shoulder and her face brightened. “Hey, there’s Stacey. She said she might come to watch today. Why don’t we show her around a little?”
“You go on ahead,” I said. “I’ll catch up with you.”
Claud yelled to Stacey and ran over to meet her. But I stayed put. There was something I needed to do.
I was pretty upset about what had almost happened to Derek. I had started to feel close to him, after being on the set with him all day every day — and now I felt super-protective. I needed to find out what had happened, and why. Had somebody substituted a pane of real glass for the breakaway glass? Or had the two just gotten switched by accident? If someone had done it, why had he done it? Was there somebody on the set who wanted to see Derek hurt? And if so, who could that somebody be? I needed to get to the bottom of this, just to set my own mind at ease.
I grabbed the first person-with-a-clipboard who walked by. “How can I find out more about where that pane of glass came from?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “I don’t have anything to do with props,” she said. “I work for Mr. Chase.”
“Aren’t there records and things?” I asked. “Receipts?”
“Sure,” she began. “But —”
“Just show me where they are,” I said. I guess something in my voice convinced her, because she led me to a trailer that was set up as an office and began to rummage through the papers on one of the desks.
“Hmmm,” she said. “There’s a bunch of delivery notices here, but mostly just for set materials and things.” She showed them to me, and I noticed that the name on them was Rockaway and Sons, which is a local company. This movie was great for Stoneybrook businesses. I leafed through the stack, but nothing looked remotely suspicious. The assistant handed me another pile of receipts. “These are for props,” she said, “but I don’t see one for the breakaway glass.”
I looked through papers for another few minutes, but soon I realized that I wasn’t going to turn up any answers. The office was totally disorganized, and even if I knew what I was looking for I would probably never find it. I thanked the assistant and went to find Claudia and Stacey.
“Christine!” I heard a voice behind me call. I paid no attention, until somebody grabbed my arm. It was Sheila Mayberry, dressed all in lilac. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement, so I knew she must have heard about the incident with the glass.
“It’s Kristy,” I said, as politely as I could.
She took no notice. “Where’s Derek?” she asked. “I need to talk to him.” I steered her in the direction of makeup, and as I watched her trot toward the trailer in her lilac high heels, I shook my head. Even Sheila Mayberry couldn’t make good P.R. out of what had happened on the set that day.
“Unbelievable. I mean, this is really unbelievable.” That was Frank Bottoms, Carson Fraser’s manager, talking. Charlie and I had arrived on the set early that day, the day after the incident with the breakaway glass. Derek was in makeup, and I was strolling around the set as I waited for him. I had just checked out the snacks at the catering truck — Derek wanted to know if they had chocolate chip cookies that day — and I was passing by the actor’s lounge area when I heard Frank talking to Carson.
He was holding a newspaper and, as he spoke, he smacked the page with the back of his hand. “Mayberry had a field day with this one,” he went on. “This really stinks.” He glanced at the pile of other newspapers on a table next to him, and frowned.
“But, Frank,” said Carson. “It’s all just publicity for the project, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” said Frank sarcastically. “More like publicity for a certain bratty little actor. When are you gonna get some press?”
“Maybe when I start breaking things,” said Carson with a snicker.
Suddenly, I realized what they were talking about. I guess I had been wrong in thinking that Sheila Mayberry would want to keep the glass episode quiet. She must have planted it in all the papers, and now Frank Bottoms was mad about Derek getting more publicity than his client — who was, after all, supposed to be the star of the movie. I tiptoed to a spot behind a van so I could hear some more without being seen.
“First he upstages you during your scenes together,” said Frank. “And now he upstages you in the press. That brat is out to steal your show.” He took a puff on his cigar. “We don’t have to put up with it, either.”
“What are we going to do about it?” asked Carson, leaning forward. “I mean, the way that kid kisses up to Harry, it’s not a big surprise that he gets all the best closeups. And Mayberry obviously thinks he’s something special, too.”
“I’ll take care of it,” said Frank gruffly. “You just concentrate on your acting. That’s your job here.”
“Well, okay,” said Carson. “But let me know if there’s anything I can do. Like you keep telling me, this picture could make my career. I want to be sure it does. With my looks and talent, it shouldn’t take much to make me a huge star.”
How disgusting. He was obviously in love with himself, and he didn’t seem to think there was room for another star on the set of Little Vampires. But I wasn’t sure he was dangerous. He probably wasn’t smart enough for that. Frank, on the other hand, might actually be able to think of some way to keep Derek from doing his job the way he had been doing it. Perfectly, that is.
I had a feeling Sheila Mayberry might have even more material to work with by the end of the day, and as a matter of fact, I turned out to be right. But I couldn’t be sure that anything that happened was Frank’s — or Carson’s — doing.
Derek found me behind the van. I was still standing there, thinking, even though Carson and Frank had left the lounge area a few minutes before. “What are you up to, Kristy?” he asked. His cheeks looked pink, and I could see the powder on his face, but by now I knew none of the makeup would show on screen. It would just make him look normal, instead of washed-out by the lights.
“Just hanging out,” I said. “Are they almost ready for you?”
Derek nodded. “They said five minutes.
So, what about those cookies?”
“They have plenty of them,” I said. “But your mom says you have to wait until after lunch to have any sweets.”
“Bummer,” said Derek, looking disappointed. “What good is being a movie star if you can’t eat cookies whenever you want to?”
We headed over to the set, where they were almost ready to begin filming. That day’s shooting was taking place in the gym again, and it involved some stunt work, which Cheryl would be doing. What they were filming that day was actually the scene before Derek goes through the window. (Remember how I said scenes are never filmed in sequence? Perfect example.) It was a scene in which one of the vampires picks Derek up, flies along with him for a moment, and then drops him from the highest point possible, right under the gym ceiling.
The special-effects people had rigged wires for Cheryl to “fly” on, and when Derek and I arrived on the set they were setting up her harness. Another stunt person — this one a man — was getting ready, too. He’d be doubling for the vampire.
Cheryl was wearing the exact same outfit as Derek — a red shirt and black jeans — and her short hair was combed just the way Derek’s was. From the back, it was almost impossible to tell who was who.
“Good luck!” said Derek, giving the harness an envious look. I knew he would have given anything for the chance to fly.
“Thanks,” said Cheryl. “Not that I’ll need it, really. This type of stunt is totally routine. I could probably do it in my sleep.”
The director’s assistant called for Derek. The first shot that day would be a closeup of the vampire snatching him. Then the crew would work on setting up and shooting the stunt. I took a seat behind one of the casting assistants (I had heard they were on hand that day to audition extras for a crowd scene) and settled in to watch Derek do his stuff.
Unfortunately, as soon as I sat down, my view was blocked by somebody. It was that girl with the red rose in her buttonhole, the one I’d spotted on the set several times before. Her stringy hair was held back with barrettes, and she wore an old denim jacket over a flowered dress. She didn’t look familiar to me, and I figured she must go to Stoneybrook High. She had walked up to the casting assistant, and she was talking earnestly to him. “Just a bit part,” she said. “A walk-on, even. I don’t care what it is, as long as I’m in this movie. Please? Please?”