Vertigo Effect: The Eighth Jonathan Shade Novel Page 7

  They laughed and touched each other on the arm. Maybe I should have accepted that invitation to watch. Damn it.

  Angela excused herself. “I have another night shoot coming up, so I’d best get some sleep.”

  Trudy gave her a nod. “I’ll be joining you tonight. Fight sequence time, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Kelly, you should be a part of tonight’s shoot too.”

  “I am.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “I have nothing until Friday.”

  “You’re driving the Alfa Romeo?” Trudy asked.

  I nodded.

  “It handles like a dream. You’re going to love it. We’ll be right back. We worked up an appetite last night.”

  “Big time,” Kelly said.

  When they returned, they made googly-eyes at one another as they sipped juice and ate second-rate food. Neither of them complained.

  “Well,” I said, “it turns out Terrell was murdered for sure. And magic in the hex bag is what killed him.”

  “Are you accusing me?” Trudy asked.

  “Just asking if you want to change your story,” I said.

  “No. I made the hex bags, so I’m pretty sure the one you have is one I made.”

  “Where were you when he died?”

  “With the first unit on the docks. We got a call and stopped production for the rest of the day.”

  “But before that, you were at the building where he died. Isn’t that right?”

  Trudy shrugged. “Me and just about everyone else in the cast and crew. We had an office scene to shoot in the morning.”

  “So you had time to plant the hex bag.”

  “So did everyone else.”

  “But none of them knew how to set it up.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Did you teach anyone else how to do it?” I asked.

  “Jonathan,” Kelly said, “that’s enough. Trudy has never killed anyone.”

  “And you know that from sleeping with her?” I asked.

  “I know that from looking into her eyes,” she said.

  “And you think I should drop this line of inquiry because you don’t think she did it?”

  “I know she didn’t,” Kelly said. “I’ve trained people how to fight. If one of them goes out and kills someone, am I responsible for that?”

  “This is different.”

  “How so? She made the hex bag. But she didn’t add blood to it and she didn’t put it in the room. Therefore, she is not responsible for what happened.”

  Trudy smiled. “What she said.”

  Kelly could tell who had taken a life and who hadn’t. Of that, I had no doubt. And even if Trudy used magic to get her into the sack, I couldn’t see Kelly standing up for her if she didn’t believe her. Kelly was my partner. She knew a man had been murdered. She said Trudy was innocent and that should have been enough for me, but I still had questions.

  “Angela doesn’t think anyone else could have altered the hex bag,” I said.

  “Really?” Trudy said. “Anyone can hop online and Google that. The magic was already there. Add blood and speak a few lines of Latin and you can change the purpose easily enough.”

  “And magic is neither good nor bad,” I said. “It’s in the way that you use it.”

  “I love that song,” Trudy said.

  “I guess that settles it,” I said. “Someone who knows an Eric Clapton song would never commit murder.”

  “Unless they were shooting a sheriff,” Trudy said. “Of course, that was Bob Marley first, but still.”

  “Fine, anyone who likes good music must automatically be innocent,” I said. “If only the world worked that way.”

  “Just round up the crowd at a Justin Bieber concert,” Trudy said.

  “Or Nickelback,” Kelly said.

  “I actually like a couple of Nickelback songs,” I said.

  “And you’ve killed people,” Kelly said. “I rest my case.”

  “But I also like Clapton and Marley.”

  “There goes that hypothesis,” Trudy said and laughed.

  Kelly laughed too.

  And I’ll admit that I grinned.

  What I did not do was remove Trudy from my suspect list. Alas, that list was growing longer rather than shorter. If everyone had access to the room, and they all had hex bags, and the information was online for anyone to find, I had my work cut out for me.

  I did what all great detectives would do in a similar situation. I excused myself and went to my room to take a nap.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The phone woke me at two o’clock. My quick nap turned out to be five hours. I rolled out of bed and staggered to the dresser where my phone sat charging. I unplugged it and answered.

  “This is Jonathan,” I said.

  “Jean Fournier.”

  “Am I fired again?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Just got the weather report. No rain Friday, so we want to shoot a helicopter stunt down by the Keys. You’re listed as a solid driver, and after seeing Kelly in action today, I want more cool shit with her.”

  “She is amazing,” I said.

  “I called the Suits and got permission to add a helicopter stunt. I’ll get the writers to come up with a reason for the Tess character to have a sword. I don’t give a fuck if it makes sense. The audience will see it and they’ll like it because it will look cool.”

  I considered what he was saying. “So story doesn’t matter, but cool visuals do?”

  “Asses in seats, Easton. Asses in seats.”

  “Right.”

  “The writers will bitch, but they’ll work it in or we’ll fire them and hire someone else.”

  “You sure you don’t want a giant spider in act three?”

  “Very funny.”

  “Yeah, this isn’t The Wild, Wild West.”

  “Plus my ass would get fired if I drop the lock system set-piece. We’ve had people working on the tanks and getting that all set up for two months now. So I’ll keep the giant spider in mind for my next movie. I know I can do better than they did in Wild, Wild West.”

  And you wondered why so many movies suck balls.

  “So what’s the plan?” I asked.

  “I need you and Kelly to go with a team to scout a location and work out the details of how to shoot the stunt. You pull this off and you’ll be in my good graces for a while.”

  “The rest of the shoot?”

  “Don’t get pushy, boy.”

  “Boy lives in a jungle with Tarzan.”

  “I saw that movie too,” Fournier said and hung up.

  ***

  It rained a bit as we drove out to the Seven Mile Bridge. Tim, the assistant director, went with us as did two others from the stunt team, Trudy, and a guy named Wesley. I hadn’t seen Esther, but she could pop over to me whenever she wanted, so I wasn’t concerned. Trudy sat close to Kelly. Wesley drove, and Tim rode shotgun. I gazed out the window and wished the air conditioning was stronger.

  “We lined up a sweet Alfa Romeo for the stunt,” Tim said. “Unfortunately, we can’t close the highway down, but the Florida Department of Transportation issued a permit. We have to have some policemen on hand, and we’ll have an ambulance nearby in case there are any problems.”

  “There won’t be any problems,” Kelly said.

  “If you miss the jump to the helicopter—”

  “I never miss,” Kelly said.

  “She’s right,” I said. “Keep the ambulance around, but they won’t be needed.”

  “I hope you’re right. I’d really like more time to scout the location and choose shots and practice the jump. So many things can go wrong. You have to be at the right speed. The pilot has to come in correctly, and Kelly has to make the leap perfectly or the stunt won’t work. And if the cameras aren’t set properly, we may have to reshoot it even if it is perfect.”

  “No worries,” I said. “We’ve got this.”

  “Confidence or ignorance?”

/>   “Confidence all the way.”

  “I’m just worried because we lost a guy last week,” Tim said. “I don’t want to see another accident. Insurance company has been up my ass all week, and if they knew how little planning was going into this stunt, they’d probably revoke the coverage.”

  “Terrell’s death wasn’t an accident,” I said. “He was murdered.”

  “What? Says who?”

  “Says everyone who knows what to look for.”

  “I was there. He made the jump then just died. Freaky thing with his brain or something. Nothing to do with the stunt, and certainly not murder.”

  “Definitely murder. The evidence was in his left eye. Proves it wasn’t a medical issue and that it wasn’t an accident. Burn marks on his iris and pupil.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? That’s impossible. I’d have seen something if he got burned.”

  “Not necessarily,” I said.

  “What caused it? Lasers? Get real.”

  “Not lasers,” I said, and tossed out an action movie explanation. “It was a new military grade targeted weapon hidden in a bag that detonated when he hit the balcony. Caught him in the eye and killed him.”

  “There was nothing there.”

  “Very small. Completely disintegrated on impact. It would have bloodied his eye, but that’s about it.”

  “His eye was bloody, but the doctor said it could have been the aneurysm.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. They had to say something, and they had no clue. But somebody working on this film knew exactly what it was.”

  “Who?”

  I shrugged. “I wish I knew. But I will find out.”

  Trudy shook her head. “Can we focus on prepping for the stunt? I don’t want Kelly to get hurt.”

  “I won’t get hurt,” Kelly said. “This is child’s play.”

  Tim shook his head. “Sounds like confidence, but I don’t know.”

  “You wouldn’t be calling me ignorant, would you?” Kelly asked.

  “I saw your fighting skills on set today. I would never call you anything but masterful because I know you could kick my ass up one side of this bridge and down the other. All seven miles each way.”

  Kelly grinned. Tim was right about that.

  Trudy’s fingers slipped between Kelly’s and held her hand, giving her a light squeeze of approval. They shared a smile.

  Wesley wheeled to the curb behind a beautiful red Alfa Romeo Spider. A blonde woman sat behind the wheel. When I saw it, all I could think was, Wow! I get to drive that!

  “1966 Alfa Romeo Spider 1600 Duetto,” I said with a smile. “Just like the one Dustin Hoffman drove in The Graduate.”

  “That’s right,” Tim said. “We promised to keep it gassed up and to return it in the same condition we receive it. That plus a large check got it all lined up.”

  I climbed out of the car and walked around the Spider. It was in immaculate condition with the round tail. I ran my hand along the unit steel body and whispered, “Five speed manual transmission, a hundred and nine horsepower, probably does around a hundred eighty-five miles per hour. Can I take it for a spin?”

  The blonde, who must have been in her late fifties, climbed out of the car and glanced at Tim. He gave her a nod so she tossed me the keys.

  I climbed behind the wheel with reverence. I lovingly started the engine and gave it a nice revving. Oh, it sounded like heaven.

  “You’ve got half an hour, Jonathan,” Tim said. “Then we need to start mounting the cameras and marking things off. But by all means, see what she can do.”

  I tore off down the highway and the next thirty minutes were amazing beyond words. I decided then and there that I would buy one for myself if I ever settled down in one place again.

  When I pulled up next to the crew a half hour later, I was all smiles. Thoughts of murder and Terrell were long gone.

  We spent the rest of the day getting the stunt worked out. I felt like I was part of the team. It felt good.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Cameras rolled. We performed some stunts. Kelly did her jump. We both helped choreograph and film a couple of fight sequences. I got to crash a car in a chase sequence. Friday was a lot of fun. It didn’t rain, so we got a lot done.

  I asked around about Terrell, but nobody had anything to tell me beyond the fact that he was more interested in banging chicks than working on the film.

  “What about him and Bill Dolan?” I asked the wardrobe girl.

  “What about them?” she asked, working to get my shirt to match the previous shot. She had a picture and wanted to make certain the tails were out in the same way at the start of the next shot as they were at the end of the previous section.

  “Were they close?” I asked.

  “Sure. They were friends. They’ve worked together for years.”

  She didn’t pick up on the subtext. “How well did you know Terrell?”

  She smiled. “We had some fun a few times. Dancing, drinking, making love. It’s weird to think that someone I slept with is dead.” She blinked a few times letting the thought roll around in her mind.

  “People die,” I said. “It’s all about when you sleep with them. Before or after.”

  “Gross,” she said and finished adjusting my shirt.

  I gave her a smile to let her know I was kidding, and went back to my starting mark for another take.

  The day went on like that. People told me it was a shame Terrell died. It was sad. He was so young. All the usual platitudes applied. One person even told me that God works in mysterious ways and that this was all part of His divine plan.

  Kelly met me at the limo. “Did you learn anything?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Are you going out with Trudy tonight?” I asked.

  “No. She has a script meeting. The writers sent down more rewrites, and she has to work out the stunts for another action scene that probably won’t make it into the movie, but will look good for the trailer.”

  “Have you seen Esther today?”

  “Not since this morning. She wanted to stay with the first unit. She heard they were filming an exchange between Bill Dolan’s character and Christopher Walken.”

  “Damn. I’d like to meet him.”

  “Too bad, so sad.”

  “How are you doing?” I asked. “Are you having fun with Trudy?”

  “None of your business,” she said, but she grinned.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “She didn’t kill Terrell.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?”

  I nodded. “When I asked her point blank, she didn’t hesitate to say no, and she didn’t have an elaborate story to back it up. She denied it and said she’d never killed anyone. Had she taken it further, I’d have my doubts, but she was congruent.”

  “Do you have any suspects?”

  “The people who know magic would be the obvious choices, but none of them strike me as guilty in the least. Fournier knows a little bit about magic, but he cares only about getting the shots, and he’s still upset the studio won’t let him use the stunt where Terrell died. Near as I can tell, nobody else knows enough about magic to have pulled it off.”

  “You talked to Bill Dolan?”

  “Briefly. I’ll take another run at him when I get the chance. I’ll also take another run at Meghan Woodley, though I doubt she could have anything to do with it. She’s a klutz, and she’s not very bright.”

  “Could be an act.”

  “She’s still limping around after taking that spill. She’s lucky she didn’t fall into the street to get hit by a car.”

  “So you’re looking at two movie stars. One who worries more about his image than anything, and the other who can’t walk and talk at the same time.”

  “Terrell was murdered,” I said. “Someone had to do it. I checked the crew. Everyone who was on set that day is still here, and none of them have any odd behavior except two of the gaffers
, and I caught them yesterday smoking crystal, which is probably why they were so agitated.”

  “There are plenty of people who didn’t like him,” Kelly said.

  “And those people just avoided him when possible. There’s a huge gap between not liking someone and having the motivation to actually kill them. And to do it with magic cuts that subset down a lot further.”

  “Jealousy is a strong motive.”

  “Sure, but everyone knew how he was, so I’m not getting that vibe here.”

  “Wow, you’re at a total loss,” Kelly said. “Normally, you’d at least have suspicions.”

  “This killer is good,” I said. “Very, very good.”

  Kelly patted my leg. “But you’ll catch him. You always do.”

  “Or her.”

  Kelly grinned. “You got me,” she said. “Or her.”

  When we reached the hotel, I arranged to meet Kelly for dinner then I went directly to my room to shower. As I walked down the hall, Meghan stepped out of her room, which was indeed right across from mine. She smiled at me and limped in my direction.

  “Good evening,” she said.

  “You have a late call time?” I asked.

  She stopped and grimaced when she put too much weight on one leg. “Just heading to dinner. Meeting Bill in the lobby.”

  “Oh, a date?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I have zero interest in Bill. We’re going to talk about tomorrow’s scenes. You’re welcome to tag along if you like.”

  “I need a shower,” I said.

  “Nonsense. You look fine. And if you’re there, Bill is less likely to hit on me.”

  “I was going to meet my friend later.”

  “Invite him or her along.”

  I hesitated, and Meghan grabbed my shoulders.

  “Please,” she said.

  “Oh, all right,” I said. “Let me call Kelly.”

  ***

  We settled on a family-owned Mexican restaurant in a nearby strip mall. According to Bill, the crew swore by the place, but all I can tell you about the food is that they had good chips and salsa. We sat in a booth with Kelly and Bill on one side of the table and Meghan and I on the other. Kelly and I sat on the outside.

  The waiter brought our drinks, and promised to return in a few minutes.

  Bill studied his menu, taking a moment to peer at me from behind it. I made a safe choice going with a chicken burrito. Bill lowered the menu and gazed at me. “Learn anything new about Terrell?”