"Only three more days, Lucy," Finnegan said. "All you have to do is follow the schedule."

"I'll meet your schedule," Lucy snapped. "But Wilder stays on the set because Bryce wants him. And the mole goes. Send all the observers you want, but no spies."

The silence on the phone stretched out while, behind her, the counter guy said, "How about the Masterpiece Doll? Comes with a hardcover book and a reproduction of the first-"

"I got that last night," Pepper said. "J.T. gave it to me."

"Tough-looking guy?" Jax said. "Doesn't say much?"

That's him, Lucy thought and wondered if catching moles was in his job description.

"You're really not in a position to dictate to me, Lucy my girl," Finnegan was saying.

"Yep," Pepper said to the counter guy. "That's J.T. He's a Green Beret. I should get him something, too."

"How about the Superman boxers with the Super Size shield?"

"No," Lucy said.

"I beg your pardon," Finnegan said, his voice icy.

"Sorry," Lucy said into the phone. "I was talking to someone else. But the mole-"

"Forget that," Finnegan said. "The schedule's the important thing. I want you to follow it exactly."

"I don't like any of this, Mr. Finnegan."

"It's my money, Lucy."

"I understand that, but-"

"You do a good job for me," Finnegan said, "and perhaps there'll be a bonus for you."

"I don't want a bonus. I want that mole off the set and-" She stopped as she heard a click and the phone went dead. Bastard.

"Sticker book?" Jax said to Pepper, putting it on the counter in front of her.

"Got it," Pepper said.

"Pez dispenser?" He put one on the counter and Pepper frowned.

"Maybe."

"Wonder Woman bobble-head doll?" He put one in front of her and Pepper rolled her eyes as the head bobbed up and down. "Yeah, that's what I think, too. Can you write? I got a Wonder Woman diary."

"I can write," Pepper said. "Some."

"How about The Ultimate Guide to Wonder Woman? It's where all the sticker pictures came from."

"Ooh, ooh, that one."

Lucy shut off the phone and looked at the pile on the counter.

"They don't have Barbies," Pepper said to her, "but they have all this cool stuff."

Lucy looked at Jax, who shrugged. Then she looked at Pepper. "Can you read the books?"

"Yes. I checked. Well, I didn't check the last one." She pulled the slender white book oft the stack and opened it. "Yep, I can read it. Most of it."

"And the clothes?" Lucy said, picking up one of the packages.

"Wonder Woman underwear," Pepper said.

"WonderWear," Jax said.

"I thought we could have a party," Pepper said, in her best abandoned-child voice. "You and me and Mom because I have nobody to play with. And we could all wear the underwear."

She was putting it on, Lucy knew, but underneath the put-on, there was something true. Pepper was worried about her mom, but underneath that, she was achingly lonely. She really did need somebody to play with.

Hell, so do I.

There was a spy on her set. That was just creepy.

Lucy flicked up the box that said kingdom come. Inside was an eight-inch action figure that was the closest thing she'd seen to art in a cardboard box: a semibehevably proportioned woman with muscles and a gold rope, looking pissed as hell. "Wow."

"That's what I said," Pepper said. "Isn't she beautiful? But I don't really need her. I'd rather have the Barbie."

"Maybe I need her," Lucy said, looking at the tough lines of the figure. This was a bitch who could kick some Irish ass. And maybe some Australian butt-he knew he was suckering me into that liability-and find a mole, too. Who? She thought. Forty-odd people. It could be any of them. Althea saving for bigger boobs if that was possible, Bryce investing in a Ding Dongs factory, Mary Vanity putting out a hit on Althea…

"So can I have it all?" Pepper asked.

Lucy looked at the swag on the counter. She'd missed some things while she was on the phone. Magnets, a mug, a lunch box, a Superman key chain…

"Superman?"

"For J.T. To say thank you."

"Well," Lucy said. "I don't know.

Pepper looked up at her with huge eyes. "If I can have this stuff, I'll help you find the mole."

"What?"

"The mole you were talking about, on the phone, I'll help you find it and that way I can earn this stuff."

Big ears, Lucy thought. "You don't have to earn it. I'll find the mole. But thank you very much for offering."

"Okay." Pepper turned back to the counter. "Maybe I'll make moles my next Animal of the Month."

"Moles," Jax said, shaking his head. "They ruined my mom's garden."

I'm betting this one's not good for my movie set, Lucy thought. "Ring it all up," she said, putting the Kingdom Come box back on the counter.

"That, too?" Jax said.

"Especially that," Lucy said.

"I think Wonder Woman is very cool," Pepper said, watching her loot disappear into several bags. "I bet she could find the mole. I bet she could find a hundred moles."

"She's going to do her damnedest," Lucy said, and got out her wallet.

Chapter 6

A little after noon, Wilder walked to the edge of the trailers and trucks parked in the base camp underneath the bridge. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the shot schedule for the last three days of shooting. He scanned it and relaxed. Bryce was off, which meant that he was off. Wilder read on and winced as he saw the next day's schedule. The first helicopter stunt and Bryce was going to be shooting a gun. Blanks, but still. He already knew the gun was going to be all wrong, but he made a mental note not to make too big a deal of anything unless it had the potential to kill someone. When he'd pointed out what was wrong with the knife, he'd ended up with Althea in his bed. Which had been great. Well, good. And strangely enough, cold. Althea was the kind of woman who could heat you up and freeze you out at the same time.

Well, hell, he hadn't died. Even if he had given up his gun.

Guns. Bryce. Wilder checked his watch. Bryce was supposed to be picking him up but he was nowhere around, probably somewhere with Mary Vanity, the makeup girl. Everyone was doing everyone here-he and Althea, Bryce and Mary Vanity, Armstrong and Nash…

That wasn't good. The last thing he needed was Armstrong and Nash together against him. He thought of Armstrong in that blue shirt. Should split them up, he thought. Divide and conquer. Disarm the enemy. That's what had happened to him,

Guns, damn it. He hefted the backpack he'd hauled with him from the hotel room. It had been hidden under the bed, the reason he had gone to the damn room and been ambushed. Time to get a cache established since his room obviously wasn't the place to run to in an emergency. He strode away into the thick vegetation of the woods on the far side of the road and locked down his brain into mission mode. Pace count. Every time his right foot hit the ground he added. He glanced at his left wrist. The compass strapped on it gave him the bearing: 266 degrees, almost due west.

When he was 112 feet into the woods, out of sight of the road and base camp, Wilder paused and did a slow 360. There had been an old drawbridge whose roadway had been torn down after the new one was put up, and one of the concrete supports was less than fifteen feet from where he was, an old palm tree collapsed against it.

Wilder went over to it and removed the MP-5 submachine gun from his backpack. It and five spare magazines were tightly wrapped in plastic. He slid it under the log, and then covered it with leaves.

He stood up and checked his handiwork. Unless someone knew the gun was there, it wouldn't be found. He turned to leave, and then without conscious thought his hand went to his back and he slid the Glock out from underneath his shirt. Something wrong. He searched the immediate area in quarters, scan close, then out, then shift. There was the bridge overhead. The old supports. The forest. The swamp. He could see the top of a set of old abandoned grain silos to the east, on the other side of the bridge, and beyond that the hotel where Althea had ambushed him. Across the river and to the west were the cranes that loaded and off-loaded the cargo ships. It took over a minute, but he checked out everything.