Demon Rumm Read Free

might have been hesitant to give him such a truthful answer. He respected and appreciated her honesty. “How come?”
    “My husband was gregarious, outgoing, friendly, and generous with his time. He loved crowds, loved the fans that flocked around him, and would spend hours in one spot signing autographs to please them.”
    As she spoke, she aimlessly wandered around the room. Suddenly she turned to him. “You, on the other hand, shun your admiring public. You’re secretive. I’ve never heard anyone describe you as friendly
or
gregarious
or
generous. In fact, quite the opposite is said about you. You’re hostile and temperamental. You don’t . . . don’t . . .
smile
enough to portray my husband.”
    “Maybe he had more to smile about than I do.” Rylan subjected her to a thorough once-over, partly out of a desire to rattle her, partly because he liked how she looked a helluva lot. “Maybe you were the reason Demon Rumm smiled all the time. That’s what I want to find out.”
    Her eyes smoldered with resentment at his sexist insinuation. He didn’t blame her. He’d had his share of it and knew how debasing it was to be treated like a wind-up toy that was expected to perform for the pleasure of the one who’d wound it up.
    In a voice as brittle as an icicle, she asked, “Isn’t it a little late for you to be worried about characterization? I thought the movie was almost finished.”
    “It is. Have you seen any of the rushes?”
    “No.”
    “You’ve been invited by the director to watch them.”
    “I didn’t want to see the film. I still don’t.”
    Rylan was surprised. “Why?”
    “I was married to an aerobatic stunt pilot. When I sent my husband off to work every day, he didn’t go to a nice, safe office job. Writing down some of the events I would rather forget was harrowing enough. I don’t care to see certain parts of my book—certain parts of his life—recreated on film.”
    There was much, much more he had wanted to ask her then, but he held the questions back for a later time and more suitable place. “Well, for your information, the producer and director are more than satisfied with my performance so far. They think I’ve captured Rumm’s smile and pegged his public image to a
t
.”
    “Congratulations. So why are you beginning to worry about characterization now?”
    “His
public
image, Mrs. Rumm.” He stood up and joined her at the windows overlooking San Diego Bay. “I watched interviews, read interviews, gathered as much information about your late husband as I possibly could. Yeah, I feel like I’ve nailed his public personality.”
    He made a quarter turn to look down at her. “But what was he like outside the limelight? In private. With the exception of a few of the stunts, those interior scenes are all we’ve got left to shoot. I don’t feel like I have a handle on who the man behind the legendary smile was.”
    “You know that he was daring.”
    “Or dumb.”
    Rylan knew he’d gone too far when she confronted him. “It took a lot of nerve to do the flying he did. How dare you suggest—”
    “Look, I think Rumm was long on guts, but a little short on gray matter to even attempt some of the stunts he did. That’s not to say that I take anything away from him for daring to do them. Okay?” She didn’t speak, but merely glared back at him with open animosity. Raking a hand through his hair in frustration over her failure to see his point, he tried again. “I need to get inside his head.”
    “His life is an open book. Literally. I’ll send you a copy of my manuscript when I’ve finished it.”
    He shook his head. “Not good enough. I need to touch the things he touched every day. Listen to the music he liked. Eat the food he liked. Occupy the rooms he occupied.”
    “That’s crazy! And unnecessary.”
    He slid one thumb into the belt loop of his slacks, which he was wearing beltless. “You didn’t think so when the leading lady wanted the same thing.”
    He