Reel Stuff
Page 22
“What?” Em almost screamed.
“He was hands off. Randy Roberts will point all kinds of fingers, but Anders was never there. He wasn’t on set when the murder occurred, and he wasn’t a part of the kidnapping of you and Em, and nobody except Roberts has any evidence that he was involved. As far as anyone can tell, he told the truth. He turned the hiring of the camera guy over to Randy Roberts, and someone stole the company credit card.”
“But he is the father of Juliana Londell’s baby?” Em was trying to make the case.
“I’m sure there will be tests, but it’s a safe bet. Doesn’t make him a killer.”
“Oscar Teller, the fake camera guy?” I asked. “He could implicate Anders, couldn’t he?”
“Only reported to Roberts.”
I couldn’t believe it. Two of the four might walk away and start the next plot.
“The grip that overdosed?”
James gave me a sad smile. “There are always casualties that can’t be explained, Skip.”
“Okay,” Em said, draining her second glass, standing up, walking to the window, and looking out on Sunset Boulevard, “why would a lady with let’s say seventy-five to eighty million dollars at risk, not have an abortion? She’s willing to kill her husband, but when it comes to killing the unborn child in her womb—”
Ashley nodded. “Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood,” she said.
“From a movie you did? A play?”
She smiled, brushing her blonde hair from her classic face.
“Genesis 2:23.”
“Ah.” The lady surprised me more and more.
“And a rap song from DMX. Really good shit,” she said.
“Oh.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
James had flown back. Amber stayed. Deadline Miami was in limbo and the network was reportedly ready to cancel. All the hype and publicity in the world can’t save a really bad product and apparently this was a bad product.
He’d stayed for the funeral and what an event. Hundreds of people convened at The Liberty Chapel at Forest Lawn. There were film clips, long speeches by Tom Hanks, Tom Cruise, writer Michael Connelly, and a host of other Hollywood celebs. Ashley Amber closed the ceremony, telling the assembled that Jason Londell was as peaceful as a quiet river. I had no idea what that meant. She spoke to his gentle nature and professed a love and respect that had come late in their relationship. I was pretty sure the relationship had lasted several weeks, but I could be wrong.
“Have you heard the latest, Skip?”
He was on the phone from Miami, back to cooking on the line at Cap’n Crab in Carol City.
“There’s a lot of latest, James. They’re still sorting out the cast of characters.”
“I talked to Ashley.”
“Yeah? I assumed she was moving on.”
“Oh, I don’t have any illusions,” he said.
“Good thing.”
“Guess who wrote out a new will?”
“I have no idea.”
“Lawyers are going over it with a fine-tooth comb, but it appears that Jason Londell wrote an amendment to his will. If Juliana did not qualify to meet the criteria of the prenup—”
“Oh, no. No. No. No. No. Positively no.”
“Yep. Ashley Amber gets half of the estate. The other half goes to some charity to benefit actors who are down on their luck.”
“Fifty million dollars?”
“Something close to that.”
I tossed and turned that night and couldn’t hold a thought in my head. The fairness of life escaped me, except the part where there was no fairness. I drifted between the kidnapping sequence and the car wreck to the death leap. As soon as my mind had wrapped itself around one scene, another took its place. The look inside the Howell store with all the movie gear, the night where I met the sultry star of Deadline Miami in my trailer and I was dressed only in boxer shorts. I focused on Em and me at the Hollywood eatery where Dwayne Johnson came on to her, and just as I drifted off to sleep, Em’s cell phone rang. Glancing at my cell, I saw it was nine a.m. Noon in Miami.
I heard her sleepy voice as I lay there, my eyes still closed.
“What? You’ve got to be kidding.”
She was quiet for a minute, then, “Oh, my God. I thought there was no question.”
Another long pause.
“Okay. I’ll get back to you. Tomorrow? Let me think about it.”
She turned, pulling her pillow tight under her head.
“You got your wish, Skip.”
I had no idea what my wish was at this point.
“They canceled the show. The sitcom. Before it ever filmed the first episode.”
“Because of the Juliana story?”
“No. Kathy said nothing is for sure, even when an episode is in the can. There are hundreds of reasons.”
The Edge of the Earth would never see the light of day. I was surprised at my reaction. I was seriously disappointed even though it’s what I’d wished for until it happened.
“You know,” she said, “it really wasn’t that funny.”
We had coffee outside at a small bistro.
“She wants me to stay. Thinks I can nail another part. In fact, there’s a reading tomorrow.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m going to call Dad. If he can get a temp to cover some things, I can do some of his work from here.”
“So?”
“Get a flight back, Skip. I’m going in for the read and maybe hang around for a couple of weeks. I think Kathy has a real interest in my career.”
I nodded. It took twenty minutes to clean up and put all my stuff in a carry-on. I took a cab to the airport. When you’re on an expense account, you can fly anytime and anyway you want. Especially, when your client just fell into a fifty-million-dollar estate. I booked first class and slept half the way back to Miami.