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Back Dishonorable Intentions Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. Cover
  2. Books by Stuart Woods
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. Author’s Note
  65. About the Author

“Is it true that there have been two attempts on your life during this shoot? And your shoot is only a couple of days old?”

“Nonsense.”

“Well, you’ve been shot and had a rattlesnake put in your bed. Do you consider those friendly acts?”

“I don’t know where you get this stuff.”

“From the Santa Fe County Sheriff’s Office and the staff of your hotel. Are they lying?”

“The gunshot was an accident while shooting a gunfight scene.”

“But great care is taken, is it not, to load all the weapons on your set with blank cartridges?”

“Somebody made a mistake.”

“And how about the snake in your bed? It didn’t make its own way into La Fonda.”

“A prank gone wrong.”

“Isn’t it true that the snake came from that wrangler’s truck over there?” She pointed.

“I don’t know where it came from.”

“Do you have any objection to my talking to your former wife, Gala Wilde? I understand she lives in Santa Fe.”

“That would be an invasion of her privacy and mine.”

“I’ve been hearing rumors of a very large rattlesnake being put in her bedroom, and someone seems to have gone out of his way to attract a bear to her property.”

“What is all this about snakes and bears? I thought you came here to talk about my movie.”

“I just want to hear your side of these stories,” she said. “I thought you’d welcome the opportunity to set the record straight.”

Tirov got to his feet, upsetting the table holding the lemonade. “Let me set you straight, you fucking little bitch. This so-called interview is at an end, and if you print any of this stuff I’ll sue your paper. You tell your editor that.” He stalked back into the saloon.

The publicist came running out. “Christy? What happened?”

“He didn’t seem to want to answer my questions,” she replied, brushing the lemonade off her skirt. “Thanks, I’ve got everything I need.” She set off for the parking lot and her car.

54

Christy Mayson got back to her desk to find a note from her editor: “See me.” She glanced in his direction and found him away from his desk, so she put her notebook beside her computer, got a blank page on her screen, and started her story.

TWO ATTEMPTS ON LIFE OF MOVIE PRODUCER

Christy could type as fast as she could think, and she did so now. In twenty minutes she had a seven-hundred-word piece. She reread it quickly, made a few minor corrections, typed in her boss’s e-mail address, and pressed the Send button.

“Didn’t you get my note?”

She looked up to find him standing in her doorway. “I did, but you weren’t at your desk when I got in, so I wrote my piece. Just sent it to you.” She pressed the Print button and handed him the hard copy. “There you go.”