Oz is outside with the boys.  There shouldn’t be anything sexy about a man carrying a shovel full of horseshit but somehow he makes it look good.

Not that I’m looking.

Ever since he unexpectedly returned three weeks ago, everything has changed.

Oz is a friend now.  Nothing more, nothing less.  He helps in the kitchen, cooperates with the crew and joins me on twilight walks around the perimeter, pointing out creatures and rock formations of interest. We steer clear of any subject heavier than the dangers of rattlesnakes. To the rest of the family, even Monty, he is down right sociable.

Life has been quiet.  Life has been pleasant.

Maybe that’s Gary’s problem.  Quiet living makes for boring television.

But Oz and I have been getting along so well.  It certainly makes no sense to consider spoiling our new friendship by running my hot tongue over the sweaty ridges of his six pack and then dipping lower to nip at that that delectable happy trail until I get to…

“Ren!”

“What!”

Brigitte manages to startle me so badly I drop a wine glass.  It shatters all over the terra cotta and I curse as I gather the shards into a pile.   Brigitte watches me.

“You’re jumpy,” she observes.

“You’re smart,” I mutter.

Bree pointedly looks out the window, sees the shirtless, magnificent Oz out there helping Spence repair a fence post.  She grins.

“Nice view.”

“It’s all right.”

“It’s all right,” she mocks.  “You missed that piece of glass by the fridge.”  She puts her hands on her hips and bites her lip.  “I suppose our visitor will be here any minute.  Are you worried?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know.”  Bree snaps her fingers and addresses a quiet corner of the room.  “What do you think, Rash?  Do we have any reason to worry?  Is Gary going to shut down production because we’re not interesting enough?  Put that camera down for a minute and tell us what you know.”

“Not allowed to socialize with the talent,” he answers but there’s a smile in his voice.

Brigitte bats her eyelashes.  “I do love being called ‘the talent’.  Say it again please.”

“Industry term,” Rash laughs.  “You are all ‘the talent.’”

Brigitte starts to say something but then stops and returns to the window.  I hear it too.  It’s a low buzzing that grows closer and breaks into a rhythmic chopping sound.

“That’s him,” Rash says cheerfully.

I join Bree at the window and see a growing black dot in the brilliant blue sky.

“Where’s he plan to land that thing?”

Bree shrugs.  “Wherever he wants, I guess.”

“Ladies,” says Rash, setting down his camera.  “It’s Gary time.”

By the time we get outside, Gary’s descending chopper is wreaking all kinds of havoc.  The chickens are flapping and trying to escape the coop.  Spencer shouts an obscenity and starts jogging toward the barn to soothe the horses.   Cate Camp stands rooted to a spot that looks destined to be covered by a helicopter in less than a minute.  Her brassy hair whips around in seventeen directions and she’s holding her arms out.

Monty and Oz have stopped whatever they’re doing and are just watching everything.  Mercifully, Oz has pulled his shirt back on, covering most of that tempting tanned muscle.

Just as I walk over to stand between them, Monty hisses and points to where Cate Camp stands with arms outstretched.

“Does she think she’s going to catch the fucking thing?”

“Maybe.”  I have an uneasy feeling that we’re about to witness what happens when woman and helicopter collide.

“Goddamn idiot,” Monty mutters and jogs over to forcibly remove Cate Camp from a bloody fate.

Oz stands so close to me I can feel his body heat.  I look up at him and find that he’s already watching me.  He gives me an amused little wink that sets all kinds of things in motion that I can’t think about right now.

To my surprise, Gary Vogel himself is the one piloting the chopper.  He lands seamlessly, without causing any damage.  As soon as he climbs out of the helicopter, all spray tanned and combed over, he only wastes a split second glancing around at the barren view of Atlantis Star before heading right over to us.  Cate Camp is full of whines and protests but he brushes her off.

Something touches my leg and I look down to see my nephew grinning up at me.

“Hugs?” he lisps and I hoist him up into my arms.

Brigitte and Ava are standing on the porch looking a little anxious so I offer them a smile.  It will be all right.  Whatever Gary came here to say or do, we will be all right.

Gary Vogel is a man who gets right to the point.  He greets us all without much fuss and beckons for us to follow him inside the big house.  By the time we’re all indoors he’s made himself comfortable on Rex Savage’s morally abhorrent chair of elephant tusks.  He’s not smiling.  He watches us file in with a very grave expression.

“Apologies for the short notice, my friends.  I’m afraid I have some bad news.  Your mother is dead.”

Someone gasps.  I think it was Ava.  I’m trying to let the words sink in.

“Lita is dead?”

“Quite.”  He snaps his fingers and Cate Camp scurries over with a magically procured bottle of water.  “Early this morning her maid found her.  No signs of a struggle.  A brain aneurysm is suspected although the autopsy will tell more.  She was found stiff and naked on a velvet settee in the pool house.”   He grimaces.  “Forgive me.  That detail was unnecessary.”

I have to wonder how in the hell Gary came by this information before we did but considering how connected Gary is, the fact that he would hear the news first is not exactly far fetched.

My hands are clasped in front of me and I stare down at them, trying to feel something about the death of the woman who gave me both life and misery.  Each of my siblings seems to be processing the news separately and none of us say a word.  Oz is closest to me.  It’s Oz’s strong hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly for comfort.  I cover his hand with my own and squeeze back.

When I look up I notice Gary Vogel is watching us. Not all of us.  Just me and Oz.

“There’s more,” he says.

A bad feeling is born somewhere deep inside my gut.  It starts to grow.  My sisters glance at me with confusion and I shrug.  Monty crosses his arms and scowls.  Spence appears bored.

Oz is the one who asks the question.  “So what else is there?”

Gary seems slightly uneasy for the first time.  “Due to your stipulations, your mother was not invited to participate in the show.  However, Lita gave us an exclusive interview right before filming started.  She had a lot to say.  Particularly when she found out you were joining the cast.”

He points to Oz.  Oz doesn’t react.  I have a feeling I know what’s coming next.

Gary licks his lips and begins to speak again but Brigitte steps forward and cuts him off.

“My mother,” she announces, “was a fucking evil witch.”  She struts in front of Gary, flings her red hair over her shoulder and gives him an icy glare.  “If I were you I would pay no attention to whatever she garbage she spewed in that so-called interview you’re so proud of because it’s bound to be the sickest of lies.  And we will contradict every damn one of them.”

Gary Vogel is amused.  His mouth twitches and he taps a finger to his lips before answering.  “I have no doubt.  Nonetheless, you are aware that I am here for the same reason you are all here.  To capitalize on a story.  And Lita had a quite a story to tell us.  In some cases the truth is, shall we say, immaterial.”

I hear Oz let out a slow hiss.  I feel him stiffen with anger.  I’m afraid in another few seconds the ‘story’ will evolve to include Gary Vogel being choked half to death.

“But this is not one of those cases,” Gary says quietly, his muddy eyes focused on Oz.  “Did you know that my crew sends me highlight reels once a week?  It’s enough to get a pretty solid idea what’s going on here. I know a good story when I see one.  And Lita Savage has no role in it.  At least not a role she would approve of.”