THE NEXT TO DIE Read Online Free PDF Page A

malignant morons like that minister and those idiot protesters scare her? How could she allow them to influence her career choices? If anything, she wanted to defy them.
    Dayle rinsed out her mouth, marched down the hall to her study, and switched on her computer. The film star was dressed for bed in a very unglamourous, extra-large man’s T-shirt. She clicked on to e-mail and sent the following message to Dennis Walsh:
    Hey, Dennis:
    I’ve been rethinking the Portland benefit. Tell Leigh Simone I’d be happy to participate .
    Dayle bit her lip, and quickly typed the next part and sent it before she had time to change her mind:
    Also, I might have been too hasty on that gay-bashing trial story. Tell Soren Eberhart that I’d like to see the script, especially if Avery Cooper is coming aboard. Keep your powder dry, kiddo. See you in 7 hours .
    —D .
    Dayle Sutton didn’t know that she’d just written her own death warrant.

Two
    “I’m definitely interested if Dayle Sutton’s interested,” Avery Cooper grunted between push-ups on the floor of his trailer. He was talking on the speaker phone to his agent, Louise.
    “The script’s a little dog-eared, but they’re rewriting it. With Soren Eberhart at the helm and Dayle Sutton starring, you’re in great company.” Louise paused. “By the way, what’s with all the huffing and puffing? What are you doing? Or shouldn’t I ask?”
    “I’m doing my crunches,” Avery said, sitting for a moment to catch his breath. The shirtless thirty-four-year-old actor worked hard on his taut physique. Yet fans considered Avery Cooper more “cute” than “hunky.” The handsome, blue-eyed former TV star never made anyone’s Sexiest Man Alive list. Still, he possessed a sweet, beguiling, nice-guy appeal that made him enormously popular during the five-year run of his hit TV sitcom. Those same qualities had landed him a role as the hapless hero who comes to the aid of a hooker in danger, played by America’s new sweetheart superstar, Traci Haydn. The film was called Expiration Date , and he had one more week shooting here in Vancouver, British Columbia (doubling for Seattle), before they returned to the Hollywood studios for interior shots. Avery couldn’t wait to get home.
    “Devil’s advocate time,” Louise announced. “You ought to consider the possible backlash to playing this gay man. You just had a controversial role. Maybe you should play it safe for a while.”
    “Do you mean that, Louise?”
    “Not a syllable, but I had to say it for the record.”
    Avery smiled. He loved Louise. She’d been his agent for nine years. She understood him. “This is a good part, Avery,” she said. “But you can make some enemies. The network says you’re still receiving poison-pen letters for the TV movie last month.”
    The film, called Intent to Kill , tapped into Avery’s nice-guy image. He played a doctor, paralyzed after being gunned down by protesters outside an abortion clinic. The controversial “network event” won him critical raves—along with piles of hate mail, even some death threats.
    Avery got to his feet and grabbed a couple of thirty-pound dumbbell weights. “A lot of the letters were very supportive,” he pointed out.
    “And a lot of them were damn scary,” Louise said.
    Someone knocked on the trailer door. “C’mon in,” Avery called.
    Bob, a studio gofer, stepped into the trailer, and set a package on the sofa. “This arrived for you special delivery a little while ago, Avery. Looks kind of personal. I don’t know.”
    Avery put down the weights. “Great. Thanks, Bob.”
    Bob ducked out of the trailer, not closing the door entirely.
    “What did you get?” Louise asked over the speaker phone.
    “I don’t know yet,” Avery said, reaching for the box. He tore off the brown wrapping. “There’s no return address.”
    “Well, wait a minute!” Louise barked. “What if it’s a letter bomb or something? You already have all these nuts