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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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“That's good,” Terry said. “I feel really bad about what happened.”

“Hey, it wasn't your fault,” Cleo said. Her face then twisted into a mean expression. “It wasn't, right?” she repeated.

“No, no,” Terry assured her. “Well, actually we're not sure exactly what did happen.”

Cleo's face brightened again. “I was just kidding—see what a good actress I am?” She flashed them all the famous wide grin that they had seen on magazine covers. “So what do you think happened?”

Terry glanced at Frank and Joe as if to ask how much he should say. Frank pulled up a chair and sat next to Cleo.

“You might be able to help us piece that together,” Frank said. “The note you received earlier—you said you didn't know who might have sent it to you.”

“That's right,” Cleo said. Her warm smile froze and her eyes widened. “You're not saying …” She gazed at the others. “Wait a minute.” She squirmed in her chair.

“Don't get excited, honey,” Terry said.

“Are you saying that what happened to me during the stunt
wasn't
an accident?” Cleo asked Frank.

“Let's just say we're trying to look at all sides of this,” Frank said.

Joe crouched next to Cleo's chair. “We just want to make sure there's no connection between the threats you've been getting and the stunt failure,” he said.

“Who are you guys anyway?” Cleo said. “What's your interest in all this?”

Quickly Terry filled her in on the Hardys' background. He added that he had asked them to help him investigate what happened to the stunt. “Tell them anything you can think of that might help,” he urged her. “And I'm not just talking about what happened with the flying rig. If you're in danger, that's more important to me than any stunt.”

“I've trusted you with my life several times,” Cleo said. “If you say the Hardys are okay, they must be. So how can I help?”

“Your assistant, Carmen, said you'd received other notes, letters, threatening phone calls,” Frank said. “Tell us about those.”

“I don't know what to tell you really,” Cleo said. “I got a couple of letters right after the studio announced that I was in the movie. Then while we did some work on the sets in the studio, I got four
phone calls. They were just quick messages, and the caller hung up right away.”

“Did you report any of this to the police or studio security?” Frank asked.

“You may not know this,” Cleo said, “but sports stars get threats all the time. I got stuff like this when I was in gymnastics—and especially when I was on the Olympic team. The mail was about equally divided between love letters and hate mail. When the first letter came, I didn't really pay much attention to it.”

“So you never reported any of it?” Terry asked.

“The letter and notes didn't bother me so much, but when the phone calls started, I got a little scared. Hearing an actual voice on the phone … It made it more real, you know? So I told my agent and the head of studio security. They said they'd take care of it, and I figured they did. All the threats stopped for a couple of months … until today.”

“And you didn't recognize the voice?” Frank asked.

“No,” Cleo answered. “It was disguised. I couldn't tell if it was a man or woman, young or old … nothing.”

Cleo looked out the window and repeated, “But the phone calls did scare me.”

“And no one ever traced any of the threats?” Joe asked. “You have no idea who's doing this?”

“No,” Cleo said. Her eyes started to fill with tears, but she shook her head. “Just some nut case, I guess. I thought it was over until I found that note under my door. It was such a shock, I panicked. Who could it be?” she said almost to herself.

Cleo became more agitated as she talked, and Terry seemed to want to lighten her mood. “Hey, maybe it's Jumper himself,” he said with a grin. “A lot of people think the production is jinxed by old Jumper's ghost, still haunting these mountains.”

“Don't even kid about that!” Cleo said with a shudder. “We can fight a person at least. It's hard to fight a ghost.”

“Cleo, if there's anything you can tell us that might help,” Frank began.

“Hey, ease up on her,” Terry interrupted. “Can't you see she's upset. Let's talk about something else.”

“I thought you wanted to talk to her about the stunt,” Joe pointed out.

“Well, we talked to her,” Terry said. “She doesn't know anything. End of subject.”

“Hey, Terry, what's up?” Frank asked quietly. “Don't you want to know whether someone's trying to shut down the production? And if so, who?”

“And why?” Joe added.

Terry stared out the window and didn't say anything.
Finally he turned back. “Look, this isn't the first time one of my stunts has failed on this production,” he said.

“Terry,” Cleo said. “It's okay. No one blames you.”

“Yes, they do,” Terry said. “The plane crash and parachuting stunt was a mess. And it cost the studio a lot of money in down time. There are a lot of people who probably think
I'm
the jinx—”

“I disagree,” Cleo interrupted. “You're definitely not responsible for the notes and phone calls I've been getting. And you didn't tell people to say they had seen Bigfoot in the woods.”

Cleo stood up and hopped over to the bed. “And, Terry, I know you make jokes about it, but some people have actually said they've seen the ghost of Jumper Herman. All movie sets have superstitions and rumors and jinxes. But this is the worst I've ever seen. You know, I wouldn't be too unhappy if they just closed down the production.”

“What are you all doing here?” Cleo's personal assistant, Carmen, said as she bustled into the room. “She's supposed to be resting.”

As Cleo lay back on her pillows, Carmen turned to Terry. “Get out of here,” she said. “Haven't you done enough today. You nearly killed her with your stupid flying stunt. Come on. All of you—out!”

“Cleo, if you think of anything, let us know,” Joe
called back as the Hardys and Terry left the hospital room.

In the parking lot Frank looked up at Cleo's window. “You know, she did act really scared when she was talking about some of the stuff happening on this mountain,” he said.

“Yeah.” Joe nodded. “But I saw the same expression on her face earlier tonight during the shoot. It was when she was supposedly running from Gus—and that time she was just acting.”

The ride back to the studio compound was quiet. Frank realized how tired he was. Wrangling bears and pumas on a movie set could be pretty hard work. As Frank pulled through the gates of the compound, two studio security guards stepped in front of the truck and held up their hands.

“What's happening here?” Joe wondered out loud from the backseat.

Frank eased the truck to a stop and rolled down his window. But the guards went to the passenger side and opened the door.

“Terry Lavring?” one of the guards said.

“Yes,” Terry answered.

“Step out of the truck, please,” the guard said.

Terry and the Hardys got out of the truck. Frank walked around to where Terry and Joe stood. “What's the problem, Officer?” Frank asked.

“Our business is with Mr. Lavring,” the guard
said. Then he turned to Terry. Frank watched in astonishment as the guard spoke: “Mr. Lavring, we have been ordered to inform you that your services on this film have been terminated, effective immediately.”

5
Is Bigfoot Afoot?

“What are you talking about!” Terry said. “Fired! No way. Is this some kind of joke?”

“It is no joke, sir,” the security guard said. “You are officially off the production as of this moment. Please leave the premises now.”

“This is ridiculous,” Terry said. He started to walk down the road, but the guard stepped in front of him and blocked his path. “Get out of my way. I'm going to my house. I'll straighten this all out with Dustin in the morning.”

“Your house has been cleared, Mr. Lavring,” the guard informed him. “All your personal belongings have been packed in boxes. We will escort you to your house and assist you in packing the boxes into the tractor trailer you drove here. Then you must
leave. You will no longer be allowed on studio property.”

“What about my equipment, my rigs?” Terry asked.

“The producer's staff is going through everything right now. Studio property will be retained. Everything else will be shipped to your ranch.”

“Come on,” Terry said. “At least let me supervise the packing. They could damage my equipment. If anything happens to my property, the studio is in for the lawsuit of the century!”

“We'll help you pack up,” Joe said.

“I'm sorry, sir,” the guard said to Joe. “We will escort Mr. Lavring. It would be best if you just went to your quarters.”

“Go on, guys,” Terry said. “We're not going to get anywhere with these two. Don't worry about me—I'll contact you tomorrow.”

Terry stomped off down the road, the two guards hurrying to keep up. The Hardys got back in the truck and drove to their house. As Frank parked the truck, Gene and Lloyd came out to greet them.

“Terry just got fired,” Frank told them.

“We know,” Lloyd said. “We're glad you're back. Berk Shearer is inside.”

“The actor who's playing Jumper?” Joe asked. “He came back out here from town?”

“That's right,” Lloyd answered. “He couldn't sleep, so he came to talk. Go figure.”

When they went inside, Berk was sitting at the kitchen table. Joe figured he was probably in his late twenties. He didn't look like a movie star, but he did bear a slight resemblance to the pictures the Hardys had seen of Jumper Herman.

Gene introduced the Hardys to Berk, cutting slabs of cherry pie for the five of them.

“So you heard about Terry getting fired,” Frank said.

“We sure did—you missed all the fireworks,” Gene reported. “After you three left, Dustin went nuts, ranting about how if there
was
a jinx on this production, it was Terry and his stunts. He was even talking like he thought Terry might be intentionally sabotaging the production.”

“The producers talked to the studio head a couple of times—he's back in L.A.,” Lloyd added. “The next thing we knew, Terry was out. The set designer told us, and he got the story from Dustin's assistant.”

“You know, I like Terry,” Gene said, “and he's got a great reputation in the business. But we don't really know him all that well.”

“Yeah, but I can't believe he's responsible for any of the problems they've been having,” Lloyd said. “We've worked with him before, and he's always been great. No problems at all.”

“Why would he sabotage a movie he's working on?” Frank wondered out loud. “Does he have any
history with Dustin or anyone else connected with the movie?”

“I don't think so,” Gene said. “He told us this is the first time he's worked for this studio.”

“I've never worked with him before,” Berk said. “But I've heard he's really good.”

“It looks as if you won't get a chance to work with him on this film, either,” Frank said. “Who'll take over the stunts? Is this going to throw a kink in the shooting schedule?”

“Dustin's flying in someone he knows and has worked with a lot,” Lloyd said. “Most of the big stunts are already shot, anyway.”

“Well, tomorrow should be great,” Joe said. He took a small notebook from his pocket and skimmed his notes. “It's the scene right after Jumper ditches the plane. He's hurt his leg, and he's knocked out. Then he comes to, checks out his leg, and gets out of the parachute. All this time, Omar is looking down on him from a nearby bluff.”

“And Jumper—I—don't know I'm being watched,” Berk said in a low, spooky voice. He stood up. “I take a few hesitant steps.” He began limping around the kitchen. “Where's my bag, where's that loot?”

“It's dark, right?” Frank asked.

“Right,” Berk said. “Nothing but moonlight, but there's plenty of that. I have no flashlight or anything.
And I'm beating the bushes, looking for my leather bag.”

“Which may have spilled out some of the treasures,” Gene observed.

“True,” Joe agreed. “So he's frantically searching, and suddenly he hears a low growl.”

“Omar's big moment,” Lloyd said with a grin.

“You bet,” Joe said, closing the notebook.

“Well, I'm going to head back into town,” Berk said. “It's really late now.”

“He's staying at the inn,” Gene pointed out. He walked Berk to the door, saying, “See you tomorrow. It'll be a great scene.”

“Let's hope,” Berk said with a smile.

After he left, the Hardys and the wranglers sat up a couple of minutes longer and talked about Terry and his firing.

BOOK: Ghost of a Chance
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