What struck me about Stay Tuned for Danger was the fact that Nancy never confronts Mattie about the lipstick tube and note she finds in Mattie's room. While it can be argued that it's because those two items are optional that she doesn't do so, it still rubbed me the wrong way. Nancy can be quite pushy at times with her questions, and I just wondered why that plot point never came up.
I had to come up with most of what was written on Mattie's letter due to the fact that when Nancy finds it in the game, what can be read of it is clearly fragmented. This fanfic is intended to be melodramatic, as I thought it would best suit the tone of its respective game that way.
"I'm too upset to deal with this—I gotta get out of here—I need some space. We'll talk later." Nancy turned over Mattie's words in her mind as the streets of New York City flew by. She braced her hand on the door card when the taxi took a hard left. A blaring horn sounded after it. Mattie clearly sounded upset, and considering her co-worker had come extremely close to meeting his end right before her eyes, she had every right to be that way.
Even so, it was too difficult to tell whether her concern for Rick was genuine, considering what Nancy found in Mattie's dressing room earlier that morning. The much-used tube of red lipstick had matched the threatening photo of Rick well in shade. Of course, that went without mentioning the shredded note in her jewelry box. All things considering, though, the note really didn't hold any weight; it could have been an old lover's note from years ago, for all Nancy knew. The lipstick was more of a main focus. What didn't fit, then, was the fact that Mattie had allowed her to investigate her dressing room in the first place. Jensen had to have known that she would find that lipstick tube.
She shook her head as a bus stop advertisement for The Tempestshot by. Mattie certainly had not hid the fact that she carried a torch for Rick, but the message on the photograph was obsessive at the least. Could she really be capable of that? A chill ran down Nancy's spine at the fact that she didn't exactly know Mattie that well, and she was living under her roof for the time being.
The cab slowed to a halt before Jensen's apartment, and the young detective felt more compelled to sink into the seat behind her, as opposed to opening the car door. Nevertheless, she handed over the fare to the driver, and took her leave. The cab sped off, leaving her alone on the curb. People still passed by on the sidewalk, and cars still sped along on the asphalt. Life in New York City went on as usual.
Reaching into her pocket, she grasped her keys. She would continue on, as well. If fear stopped her now, she may as well give up on the entire case. "Mattie?" Nancy called as she opened the door. The light to the front hall was on, indicating Jensen's presence.
"In here!" Her voice drifted in from the opening to the living room.
Stepping through it, she found the actress seated in a chair, a script copy beside her, with a welcoming smile on her face. She doubted, however, that it was a reflection of Mattie's true feelings at the moment. Her tone, however, was. "I'm sorry for skipping out on you like that. I guess I'm not a very good hostess. It's just that this whole thing with Rick really shook me up." Mattie was clearly embarrassed, and somewhat flustered, her words rushed. She rubbed her right arm subconsciously as she spoke.
Nancy smiled reassuringly. "I understand, but now that the studio's closed to visitors, I'm at a dead end."
Mattie gave her a relieved expression before glancing down in thought. "Hmm, I think I've got an idea on how you can get back in the studio." Well, at least she wasn't barring her entry to the scene of the "accident." Then again, it could have just been a ruse.
Beggars couldn't be choosers. "I'm all ears."
Jensen smiled, and this time, it was much more genuine. "My agent could get you a job as an extra, so you could get on the set. You don't have to do anything; they just need people standing by."
She raised her eyebrows at that. Certainly, a disguise was welcome, but the opportunity to actually be in a television show, if only for a moment? That was amazing. "Really? Who is your agent?"
"Dwayne Powers. We've been friends for years. I'll give Dwayne a call first thing tomorrow. Just stop by there in the morning. I'll tell him you're an old family friend who's decided to try out acting as a career." Nancy chuckled at that. Considering the fact that she hadn't set foot on a stage since her freshman year of high school, she may as well have been. In the back of her mind, however, she decided to open up another space on her suspect list for him. If he was closely connected with Mattie, he would certainly have the opportunity to visit the set. Not to mention the fact that Rick garnered more publicity than her.
"That'd be great. Thanks, Mattie! Well, I'm sure you've got to rehearse for tomorrow."
"Yeah, I should probably get back to my lines. I'll see you later," she replied softly. Picking up the script, she settled back into her work.
Nancy retreated from the room to hang her coat on the hook in the hall. Confronting Mattie about the lipstick tube and note upfront was out of the question, especially now that she was receiving assistance from her. Still, it made little sense if those two findings were incriminating. Both the drawer and jewelry box had been unlocked, and she had been left to her own devices within Mattie's dressing room. Adjusting the collar so that the coat fit better over the hook, she let out a silent sigh, knowing too well that this mystery had only barely begun, and she was already running out of time.
XXXXXX
"That's a wrap everyone, see you tomorrow." Lillian's words held no accompanying warmth to them as she stood from her director's chair.
Mattie smiled, raising her hands beneath her hair to lift it up, and fluff it out. Serena drifted away from her once more, her living room's walls and furniture, having once held the secrets of her love interest and peers, transforming back into a day-time drama set. She tilted her head slightly to the side as her co-star walked off the set to receive his needed cup of coffee from a blushing young assistant. Mattie's smile turned to a frown as Rick took the cup and saucer from the girl's hands, with a murmur of something scandalous that had caused her to place a hand to her mouth, stifling a giggle.
The mood was soured, however, when Arlen withdrew the cup quickly from his lips to practically shove it back into the surprised girl's hands. Mattie smirked. She forgot the most important thing about his coffee: two lumps of sugar, no more, no less, and no cream. She couldn't see the expression on Rick's face, as his back was turned, but she could just imagine the disdain on his face.
"Mattie!" Lillian's sharp voice snapped her to attention.
Turning on her heel to head over to her, Mattie asked, "What do you need?"
Folding her arms, the raven-haired woman replied, "You need to work on your diction. You're so quiet that Rick's easily overpowering you."
Mattie raised an eyebrow. She hadn't said anything about that doing the shooting. "Okay, I'll listen to the feedback tapes, and go from there."
She shook her head. "It's not just that. Here," motioning for Mattie to follow her up to the control room above, Lillian ascended the stairs. The crew that had been manning the area passed by them, their shift over.
Mattie leaned forward over the control panel as Weiss adjusted the controls, recalling the playback for one of the previous scenes that had been filmed earlier that day. It was a zoom-in shot, featuring Rick and Mattie, or rather, Rory and Serena, sitting closely together on the set's main couch. They faced each other in profile, with Rory's left arm thrown over the couch toward her, and Serena's hands on her lap. Their mouths moved mutedly for a moment before Lillian rewound the footage and cued the audio.
"Serena, about last night, I'm sorry," Rory cast his eyes down, "It got out of hand." Serena shook her head, her fingers clenching her knees, and her shoulders rising.
"Nailed the body language, though," Weiss commented in the space of silence.
"Do you really think that's enough? Look at yourself; you're sitting there smugly, expecting me to forgive you!" She exclaimed in indignation.
He dropped his arm. "Serena, come on!"
Rising with a huff, she retorted, "Don't you say that to me! You practically stood me up at the bar tonight!"
Pointing an accusatory finger at him, she added, "And I should have left, too!" Her voice rose, so that she sounded on the verge of tears. "You saw how those guys were ogling me! If you'd taken any longer…" She buried her head in her hands, stifling a sob.
Quickly rising, he went over to her, grasping her arms. "But that didn't happen, Serena. You're here, you're safe."
The image was stilled as Lillian hit the pause button. "You see my point? Serena is supposed to sound outraged here. You're practically whining."
Mattie shook her head. "I wasn't going for either. I wanted her to sound distressed. She was nearly jumped by three men, so there's good reason to be."
The director continued to press her point. "Be that as it may, Serena is still our leading woman. She has to have a strong presence. We can't have her flaking on us."
Mattie tapped the still of Rory. "Doesn't the same go for him?"
"What do you mean?"
"We make Rory and Serena perfect characters," Mattie explained, leaning forward on her elbows, "The only problems that affect them are circumstantial. If we show weakness in their characters, it can develop them."
Lillian shook her head. "We tried that in Season Two, Mattie, and look where that went."
Jensen stifled a groan. "It didn't work because Rick refused to go with it, I know. We had only just finished the first season, though. He was still settling into the role. I can talk to him about it." Mattie's voice lost its intensity halfway through, since it was at that point that Lillian had closed her eyes, and begun to shake her head.
"You aren't a script writer, you're an actress. I need you to get on that stage, and do your job right," casting her gaze down at the crowd of people below, she added in a sour voice, "Just because you're on the set with him doesn't mean that he's going to listen to you." She ticked the reasons off on her fingers. "Who has top billing? He does. Who has one of the greatest agents in this business? He does. Who's the reason why Pappas is ready to pull his hair out half the time, and still keeps his job? He is. What Rick wants, Rick gets." Jabbing the eject button, she grasped the tape to hold out to Mattie. "Get to work. I want a full improvement by tomorrow."
Mattie's reply died in her throat due to Lillian briskly exiting the room, and heading down the stairs. With a sigh, she held the tape at her side before taking one more look at Rick. Leaning against the side of a piece of equipment, he lively made jokes with the stage crew. A lump that was hard to swallow formed in her throat. He treated everything like a joke, but she wondered how long the laughter would last. True, the first few threatening notes had been rather cliché and laughable, utilizing magazine cut letters…But, they wouldn't stop coming. Rick thought himself to be a superman, but she wasn't so sure that he was as invincible as he believed he was.
Deciding to swallow back that unhappy thought, she descended the stairs. A peal of laughter came from the group gathered around Rick, who apparently had just delivered the punch line to a joke. She strode over to join them. "Ah, Mattie, I was just telling everyone about my trip to Hollywood. It's a little different from the Big Apple."
"Oh, I bet," she replied, "You may as well be flying to a different country."
If only he hadn't gone. With each trip there, he was drawn further and further from her. Quicker was coming the day that he would fly away for good. Still, it was probably for the best. If he could escape his stalker this way, then so be it. Rick tapped the side of the equipment once before pushing off of it. "Well, I hate to keep all of you, but I need to be going. My public awaits."
Mattie smirked, keeping stride with him as they exited the soundstage area. "I guess you mean your agent? He wants an autograph, too?"
Rick chuckled. "Only my finest handwriting, of course. Good work today; I thought you were going to bite my head off onstage."
Mattie's smirk grew wider at his flattery. She held the tape more tightly against her leg. "Rick, you know I would never do that. You were great, too."
He stroked his chin. "You know me, I'm more than a pretty face. Gotta keep it up for our ratings, after all. Crimson Cove won't stand a chance against me." After a pause, he added, "Of course, the letters helped a little, but it was mostly me."
She shook her head. "Rick, don't just call them 'letters.'"
"Nothing else has happened, has it?" Rick questioned. At her frustrated silence, he added, "No, nothing has. I have everything to gain from this."
"Rick, listen to yourself," she practically snapped, causing him to wince at the tone of her voice, "Whether they're real or not, these are still threats to your life. You're not the implacable man you think you are."
Placing a hand melodramatically to his heart, he replied, "Mattie, my dear, I am touched by your compassion, but now I must be going." At that, he walked away, leaving her standing alone in the hall. Swallowing back the impulse to go after him, she maintained a shred of her dignity by heading to her dressing room. Once the door was closed, she took a look at the tape she held before tossing it onto the nearby chair, resolving to make her improvements later.
Mattie headed over to the vanity, her reflection illuminated by its attached bright lights. The dour frown she wore made her feel small, in a way. Perhaps Lillian was correct; her offstage worry for Rick's welfare may have been affecting her onstage performance. Then again, that was the soap opera business. The evocation of genuine feeling was a breath of fresh air to audiences, and if it helped to keep the show going, that was fine. Still, Lillian was the one at the helm, not her.
Reaching to the side, she tugged open the drawer beneath her. The make-up department was quite good but even so, the bright studio lights always managed to make her sweat at least a little. Her eyebrow raised when she saw the tube of red lipstick, its top open, lying on its side within the drawer, the tip of it effectively worn down to a nub shape. Gingerly, she picked it up by its base, examining it carefully in the light. There didn't seem to be any saliva glistening on it, and she doubted that someone would be that desperate to rifle through her things just for a tube of lipstick. She found the top easily, and replaced it before setting it back inside.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she glanced around the room. Even so, that meant that someone had been in here. Granted, the maintenance men were allowed to pop into the dressing rooms, but this was odd. Quietly, Mattie moved about her room, taking care to open and close drawers, and inspect the state of her belongings in order to make sure that nothing else had been disturbed. When her search concluded no other changes, she checked the locking mechanism to her door, and found it to be in working order. Calling Ralph over a misused tube of lipstick would be utterly foolish, but that did little to settle her racing pulse.
XXXXXX
"Thanks for taking my call, Dwayne. I know you've been busy lately," Jensen commended, leaning slightly forward on the small table in her apartment's entrance hallway.
A soft chuckle came from the other end of the line. "Anything for you, Mattie. How are you doing?"
She sighed. "I could be better. Everyone has gotten on edge as a result of what's happened lately, and I just wanted to talk to a friend for a while."
"Is this about Rick Arlen again?"
Mattie swallowed a groan at his clearly disapproving tone of voice. "Yes, but—"
"Mattie, I have told you this a few times. When is it that no one worries over him? Rick is nothing more than a spoiled brat who needs to grow up. I doubt that will happen, since he positively basks in the attention he is given. He will continue to blow this out of proportion until no one will listen to him."
"Dwayne, someone tried to poison him!" Mattie interjected, her voice considerably more strained than she had intended it to be.
A pause answered her for a moment. "…Are you sure?"
"You know Rick, he loves chocolate. An anonymous fan (I guess you can call him that) sent him a box, and he spat one out as soon as he popped it in his mouth. The letter that came with it wasn't very nice, either."
"That was his own fault," Dwayne replied cynically.
"That's all you can say?!" Mattie exclaimed in outrage, gripping the receiver tightly, "My co-worker, my friend, was almost killed, and you say it's his fault!"
"Mattie, calm down," he soothed, his voice becoming soft.
She took a breath to compose herself. The undertone of a bite in his voice returned as he continued, "What I meant was that Rick was foolish to simply eat one of them when he was receiving such threats." Mattie frowned, knowing he was right.
"Just curious," Dwayne inquired, "What did the security guard turn up about the box?"
"Not much," she replied, "Rick didn't let him take the box; said he wanted to add it to the collection of threats he already has." She buried her head in her hand out of frustration at her co-star.
"Are you surprised?" Dwayne asked, "Mattie, he's your friend, I understand that, but he isn't the person you think he is," his voice cracked slightly as he added, "I know that more than anyone."
She lowered her hand from her face. "Dwayne, listen to yourself."
"I apologize. That was out of line. It just irritates me that all consideration is given to his safety, but nothing is given to yours. Your dressing room is next to his, for God's sake!" The used lipstick tube she had found earlier that week appeared in her mind at his words.
"I want you to know that if you are in any danger, I'm here for you," he comforted, "And my door's always open if you need somewhere safe to stay. We haven't seen each other for a while, anyway."
"Dwayne…" She bit her lip.
He sounded considerably shaken as he asked, "Mattie, what is it? Did something happen? Are you hurt? I can easily get you another acting position far away from there."
Whether it was his pure fear for her, or the idea that he probably would send her away from New York City (and Rick, as well) if given the chance, that caused her to act as she did, she replied, "It's nothing. Look, I'm just stressed out, is all. Could we possibly meet for coffee later?"
"Oh! Of course, of course! What day is good for you?" He asked eagerly. As Mattie thought of an appropriate day, she couldn't help but take note of how he had said "oh." It had almost held a sense of disappointment, if she wasn't mistaken.
Choosing to ignore it, she decided, "How about Sunday morning?"
XXXXXX
"Note for you, Miss Jensen," Ralph's gravelly voice caught Mattie's attention as she entered through the revolving door to WorldWide Broadcasting.
With a smile, she made her way over to his desk. "Thanks, Ralph." The security guard tipped his hat at her, and promptly returned to his breakfast of a glazed donut and coffee. She took care to glance at the envelope as she made her way past the rope line. It was understandably hard to suppress a tenuous feeling as she did so. Rick's latest "gift" had been a lovely arrangement of dead roses, with a rather sickening message as to his mortality inside the box, as well. Mattie's stomach twisted at the memory of seeing them. First inspection on the box had quite nearly caused her to lose her lunch, while Rick, as usual, laughed at the disgusting present. "I've had red and white roses before, but never black! I'm impressed at my fan's creativity."
The white-washed halls of the studio were filled with quiet conversations between the stage crew and extras as Jensen continued to her dressing room. She wondered if Dwayne had been right in his thoughts about Rick, but pushed that aside for more urgent matters. If this persisted further, she was going to call for help. Thankfully, her note gave her a sense of relief. Printed in block letters on the envelope were the words "MISS SERENA LIVINGSTONE," which she couldn't help but smile at.
Rory and Serena had smoothed over their previous fight, and would be taking turns between reconciling and recanting for the next few episodes. Although Lillian's disapproval of Mattie's performance had continued, it had waned somewhat. The cherry on top of the television drama situation was the fact that in the most recently-filmed episode, Rory and Serena had shared a heated kiss. Mattie's smile spread wider. Of course, it had meant nothing offstage, but it had still given her a moment to be close to colleague. The smile fell. And then the flowers had arrived later that day. Closing the door to her dressing room, she sighed before placing the envelope down upon a small table.
Who was she kidding; things weren't going very well at all in reality. Ratings for Light of Our Love, while not bad on their own, continued to tank in comparison to Crimson Cove, a fact that made quite a few members of the studio faculty wary of walking past the door of Mr. Pappas. Perhaps the theory posed in the most recent issue of Soap Opera Digest of the scandal being the only thing keeping the show afloat was correct. Mattie bowed her head from where she stood near her coat rack to bury her face in her hands. Quiet sobs issued forth from her. It wasn't just about Rick anymore, although he was the main topic. If he did leave for Hollywood, or if something else happened to him, the career she had built here would be gone. Yes, Dwayne could move her wherever he pleased, but such a glowing part of her life will have ended. Lillian's attention to detail in the director's chair would land her a position in Hollywood, as well, no doubt about it. Ralph? He'd find work wherever a place needed his brawn. But when it came to Pappas and the widowed Mrs. Starthorn, the story would not find a cathartic ending. Pappas could find work elsewhere, true, but the show he had poured all his effort into beginning and keeping alive would simply die. And Mrs. Strathorn…Mattie couldn't bear the thought of the eccentric old woman losing the very studio she herself had founded. And of course, that was not to say anything of the remaining faculty of the building, the actors and actresses who played recurring and minor characters, the extras, and the stage crew. These were all people she had taken meals and drank coffee with, and they would all go their separate ways.
Grabbing a tissue out of the box, she dabbed at her eyes before discarding it in the trash can, and picking up her letter opener in turn. The tool sliced through the envelope effortlessly, allowing a folded sheet of paper to come into view. Carefully, she slid the note out, and put aside the letter opener and envelope before reading it.
-I wanted to tell you this in person, but I couldn't. I wasn't sure how to properly explain this to you on Sunday, but by sitting down and collecting my thoughts, I know how to say it. There is no safe haven at that wretched hive of a studio for you anymore, I fear, and as such, I cannot allow this to continue.-
As she read on, the color drained from her face, and cold sweat beaded on her brow. Her throat felt constricted, causing her to pant as she read onward. Her fingers clenched tightly around the paper.
-Mattie, you are the only friend I have in this farce we are doomed to call "show business." The thought of you within the grasp of such a predatory beast as the one that stalks the hallways of WorldWide Broadcasting makes it nigh impossible for me to sleep at night. It is because of this that I have decided I will go ahead with preparations of locating a new place for you to pursue your dreams.-
Mattie's knees buckled, and she fell onto the loveseat behind her.
-I am deeply sorry that it has to work out like this—but there is no choice at the moment. You must trust me on this. We both know what needs to be done, and I am taking the steps, however drastic, to see that it is finished as we discussed—I just need your support. When all this blows over, and everything calms down, we can be together. I sincerely apologize for not having been a better agent and companion to you in the past, and you may very well fire me if you so please, but I beg you to allow me this one chance to make you the star you were destined to be.
Forever yours truly,
Dwayne-
The iron grip Mattie had on the letter slackened, and it fell to the floor with a whisper. The next moment, however, she dove for it, her teeth gnashed, and tore it viciously to pieces, the object absorbing her sheer helplessness. As the pieces of paper scattered back to the floor, she thought of something the landlady of her apartment had once mentioned: she had a niece, who admittedly was a detective. Reaching for the side phone, Mattie quickly punched in the number of Eloise Drew. If she would, in fact, leave the studio, she would at least try to do some amount of good before that would happen.
XXXXXX
"I'm sorry Mattie," Nancy said with a sigh as the actress placed the newspaper down on the coffee table. Splashed across the front page was the headline Would-Be Soap Opera Star Murderer Unmasked, with the accompanying photo of Dwayne being led away by two police men in handcuffs, a furious expression on his face. There was her dear old friend who took her out for ice cream upon learning of her being dumped by Rick, there was her agent who had determined to do better for her, and there was the man who had all but declared his love for her, only to be displayed as the villain of this story. How could she have been so blind?
Mattie sighed, lowering her eyes. "It'll take a while to get over," she smirked, "Not to mention to get the press to settle down, but—" She broke off, taking a breath.
Nancy smiled sympathetically. "Take your time."
"I'm glad that you solved this case. Rick's still alive because of you, and he and I both owe you everything for that. But to know it was Dwayne..." She gazed away from the young detective, and out toward the window through which the late afternoon light filtered in.
"Mattie." She turned back at Nancy's voice, and suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise up as they had the day she had found the used lipstick tube. The teenager's voice had been neutral, but her blue eyes had taken upon a searching look that Mattie found to be characteristic of her as she studied the actress' face. Mattie realized just what she had done by not telling her about the lipstick tube and note as the implications of the latter to both her character and Dwayne's sunk in. Again, her own blindness astounded her. That note had been as much a proclamation of love as it had been a window into Dwayne's ruptured psyche. When he had used the word "predator," was that how he had thought of himself at the time? She'd withheld evidence from Nancy, but the doubts as to whether the girl had found it anyway began to erode at that look. The amateur detective's pose remained leisurely from where she sat across from her, her one arm casually draped over the armrest, but the sheer intensity of those eyes said so much more. Jensen's heart skipped a beat as she took in the revelation that she, though unwittingly, had obstructed an investigation.
"Yes?" People went to prison for that.
Nancy smiled again, the pregnant silence only having lasted a moment. The look vanished from her face completely. "Do you mind if I treated you to dinner tonight? I only have a few days left here, and I wanted to thank you for allowing me to stay here."
Mattie returned it, although the internal relief she had been expecting didn't come. "Thanks, that would be nice."
XXXXXX
"Mattie, it's me," a heavy sigh drifted through the phone's built-in speaker, "I want to make this clear: I don't want you to help or pity me. What I did, I was too proud and foolish to allow myself to see the full extent of the consequences. The reason why I called is that I wanted your forgiveness. I'm truly sorry for what I put you through in these past few weeks, and I need you to know that. I don't care if you won't talk to me again; I deserve it." Mattie hesitated for several moments before the machine. She'd missed the call by several hours due to her time at the studio, but redial would easily connect her with the prison. Closing her eyes, she shook her head in silent acceptance before pressing DELETE.