“Great.”
“Fine.”
“Where do you want me to stand?”
Bobby Valentine smiled at Annette. “Right over there.” He pointed. “And you.” He nodded to Jill. “If you would just work right there. To the left of Josie? Great.”
“And where do you want me? Or are you afraid I’ll fill up the screen?” Dottie asked.
“I don’t suppose you could think of anything to do up on the ladder? It would add interest on another level. No? Well, then, maybe you can help that young lady… Ann-”
“Annette.”
“Great. Lovely name. Like one of the Mouseketeers, right? The one who was… well, Annette. If you would just act like you’re helping her hammer together that… uh, that beam or whatever it is.”
Josie didn’t know anything about television, but she sure didn’t want her crew looking as though they were wandering around unoccupied or aimless during the workday, so she intervened. “Dottie, you and Annette get rid of the window frames on that side of the house and start demoing the walls. Jill, if you could pull the wires and top off the pipes around the perimeter? Great!” Once everyone was occupied, she returned her attention to the producer. “So what do you want to ask me?”
“If you don’t mind, why don’t we do two separate interviews? The show isn’t completely blocked in and I’m not absolutely sure where these questions will be edited in.”
“Fine with me. Where do you want me to sit?”
“I don’t want you to sit. I want you to work and Courtney will come up to you, interrupt, and ask you some questions. Okay?”
“Sure. Do you want me to help them remove that wall?”
“No way. Our audience has been watching walls come down and go up for years and years. Let’s think of something interesting. Something unique about the house…”
“I could be doing something with that sculpture.”
“No. I don’t think so. How about the canoe? It’s coming down, right?”
“Yes, but not right now-”
“Hey, nothing is happening right now. It’s all fiction. But you climb up the ladder and look like you’re examining the… whatever is holding that canoe up there and I’ll walk up as though I’m Courtney. Okay?”
Josie knew why she didn’t want to do it, but she couldn’t think of a rational excuse not to, so she climbed up slowly and then even more slowly as she approached the top.
“Now, why don’t you just put your hand… not that hand! The other one! Don’t want to block that… uh, pretty… face! Okay! Okay! Just hold that position! How does she look?”
Josie jumped back. He knew Courtney was up there. “She… she…”
“The cameraman is trying to get your face in the picture.” The statement came from Dottie, and Josie suddenly realized that Bobby Valentine was talking about her, not Courtney. “Maybe I should tie back my hair?”
“No!”
“Didn’t you tell her? I thought that Henshaw kid… Chad… was supposed to tell everybody on the crew about their clothing!” The cameraman seemed distressed.
“I…” Annette was hesitant. “I… He told me and I told him… that is, I said I would explain to everyone else. I… Something happened and… I forgot.”
“Okay. I will repeat myself. Everybody listen to me. We will be taping six shows. While each of you may not appear in each show, you will all appear in more than one, probably half of them, maybe more. You must wear the same thing for each day of shooting-”
“We-”
“What?”
“Guess you don’t care how we smell, do you?”
“What’s the big deal? Just put your jeans and T-shirt in the washer when you get home each night and-”
Josie was momentarily distracted. “Most of us don’t live in houses with a washer and dryer in the basement.” (She had a fleeting vision of the laundry room in her parents’ basement. Like the rest of the house, it was color-coordinated; in this case turquoise, cream, and yellow.) “And even if we did, we work hard. Going home to do laundry is not exactly restful.”
“Besides, we didn’t know we were going to be seen in what we showed up in today for the entire series,” Annette protested.
“Look, just try to wear something similar. Maybe we can make an exception with this series-after all, we all know how ladies are about their clothing.” He looked up at four scowling women. “Uh, let’s get going. Don’t be afraid to really get into your work.”
The hammering became louder. Josie knew that when those windows were pulled the sound would be deafening, but Bobby Valentine continued to give directions.
“I will walk in with the cameraman following me. The camera will pan the room-quickly-and then up the rungs of the ladder to where Josie is working.” He turned all his attention on her. “I’ll call out a loud hello and we’ll take it from there. Okay?”
“I… uh… what if I say something stupid?”
“Not to worry. In the first place, you’re a smart cookie and you won’t. In the second place, nothing goes out unedited. Ready?”
“Yeah. I guess.” She wasn’t, but her nervousness about being on television was competing with the horror of being so near Courtney’s body. She had to get down off this ladder as quickly as possible.
“Okay. Take one. Panning. Panning. Panning. Panning. Hi, Josie!”
“Hi, Bo… Mr… Shit. You wanted me to say hello to Courtney, didn’t you?”
“Sure didn’t want you to say hello to Mr. Shit.”
“Yeah. Sorry. Can we do that again? Take two?” she asked, inspired.
“Yeah, as Ms. Pigeon says, take two. Everyone’s a producer these days. We’ll start with the hello.
“Hello, Josie!”
She looked down at him and grinned. “Hello, Courtney… Miss Castle… Is it all right if I call her Courtney?”
“Everyone else in America does, why not you? Take three. Hello, Ms. Pigeon.”
“Hello, Courtney.” Josie found herself grinning foolishly down into the large lens of a video camera.
“Josie Pigeon is the founder, owner, and head carpenter at Island Contracting- What’s that, Josie?”
“I said not founder. It was founded by Noel Roberts. He died and left the company to me.”
“Well, I guess he was a real friend, wasn’t he? So, Josie, why don’t you tell us a bit about this house you’re working on today? That canoe is an interesting thing to hang from the ceiling. Is it decoration or is something hiding in there? What was that?”
“Sounds like a window coming out of a wall-the easy way, Courtney.” She was particularly proud of herself for remembering to speak to the dead woman, but she was having a difficult time not glancing over at the body. Then she had an inspiration. “You know, Courtney, this canoe is going to hang in the house after it’s remodeled. Except for the sculpture by the fireplace, pretty much everything else is going to change. Maybe you’d like to see the blueprints?”
“Cut. Josie, Courtney is the one who decides in what direction the conversation is going. Just respond to her questions, please.”
“Oh, of course.”
“So is this canoe going to hang in the house once it’s remodeled?”
“Yes.”
“And is it the only original decoration that will remain?”
“Well, there’s a sculpture next to the fireplace. It was created by a famous artist and will be in the new living room as well.”
“Maybe you could come down from there and we could look at the blueprints for this project?”
“Sure, Courtney. That’s a great idea.” She heard some snickering from her crew, but maybe the audience would think it was just some sort of construction noise. She made some unnecessary noise coming down the ladder, trying to cover it up. “I think the blues are on the counter in the kitchen.”
“Well, let’s go look at them, shall we?”
Thank God! Knees shaking from stress, Josie started to walk toward the kitchen.
�
�Cut!”
She jumped and looked around. That hadn’t been Bobby Valentine’s voice.
“Keep going in that direction and those women will be in the next shot,” the cameraman warned them.
Bobby Valentine stopped in his tracks. “I see what you mean, but we don’t want to give the impression that Josie and Courtney are here alone. I mean, it doesn’t hurt to have people in the background shots.”
“Maybe they could be working out on the deck and the camera could sort of glimpse them through the window. You know, enough to see people-women-working, but not enough so that they can be identified later.”
“Great. Good. Super. How about it, ladies?”
“Do you all mind?” Josie asked. She was beginning to feel very frustrated by this whole operation.
“We don’t mind at all,” Jill said, a smile on her face as she hurried out of camera range. Dottie, as usual, looked disgruntled. And Annette, spying Chad Henshaw carrying a load of lights toward the house, hurried in his direction.
“Josie, those blues are interesting and we’ll be referring to them as we go through the other shows, but right now I want to ask you about your past, about what led you to be a carpenter in the first place.”
“I… Courtney wanted you to ask me these questions?”
“Cut! I have a list here. It won’t take long, but answer as briefly as possible and PLEASE remember you’re talking to Courtney, as well as to thirteen or fourteen million viewers.”
“Thirteen… Well, go ahead.”
“Tell us a bit about your background. Where did you grow up, for instance?”
“I… I grew up in a small town, a suburb really, of Philadelphia.”
“Really? And what led you into carpentry? And to this island?”
“Well, I… um… that’s not easy to answer.”
“Were there builders in your family? Did you have any particular role model?”
Josie laughed. “No, my family specialized in bankers and businessmen, not builders. I… Do you think I need to answer these questions? They’re sort of private.”
“Cut!” There was a scowl forming on Bobby Valentine’s usually happy face. “Look, half of this stuff will end up on the cutting-room floor. But Courtney wanted these questions asked for background information and we’re going to do it. And I don’t know about you, but I’d sure like to get it over with.”
“Fine. Take… whatever.”
“Scene two. Take two. I’ll ask the next question on this sheet. How many years ago did you begin your career as a carpenter?”
Well, that one was easy. “Almost sixteen years, Courtney.”
“There are a fair amount of women in the building trades these days, Josie, but that wasn’t true back then-”
“No, it wasn’t. Oh, you hadn’t asked the question, had you? Sorry. Cut.”
“Keep rolling, we’ll edit later. There are a fair number of women in the building trades these days, Josie, but that wasn’t true back then. What did your family think of your decision to pursue such an unusual career?”
“I… They… I had an infant son at the time and he just loved hanging around construction sites. In fact, the crew I was working on then got together at lunchtime and made him the most wonderful set of blocks out of leftover hardwoods. He still has them and he’s a teenager now.”
“Cut! Look, that’s all very interesting, but I don’t think it’s the way Courtney expected you to answer her question.”
“Why?”
“She has lots of questions here about high school.”
“Like what?”
“Whether you took shop classes.”
“No. That’s not a very interesting answer, is it?”
“Let’s try the next one. Did you take home economics?”
“It was a required course when I was in high school.”
“And did you do well?”
“Not really.”
“What happened? Did the hems you sewed fall apart? Did you burn the hot chocolate? Stuff like that?”
“It’s almost as though you were there to see it, Courtney.” Josie tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice. After all, Courtney was dead. It was stupid to be angry at her. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. “Just because I didn’t get all A’s like you did-” She realized what she was saying and stopped speaking.
Bobby Valentine was looking at her with a strange expression on his face. “So it’s true. You and Courtney do have a past in common.”
“I…” The camera rolled on, but she had no idea what to say.
“Let me ask you one more question, Josie. Do you know what happened to Courtney?”
“I…”
“Because she said you would.”
“She said what?”
“She said if something happened to her, I should ask you about it.”
Josie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. And the camera rolled on.
SEVENTEEN
"TURN OFF THAT damn camera!” Josie glared over Bobby Valentine’s shoulder at the cameraman.
“Yeah, cut! Why don’t we all take a coffee break? We can continue this later.”
Josie wasn’t accustomed to taking breaks before work had even begun, but she didn’t see that she had any choice. “Just let me get my crew back in here working and we can find someplace more private to talk.” She didn’t wait for him to argue; she had a responsibility to the homeowners and her employees. She hurried out the back door to where the women were waiting for her. She had expected to find them idle. To her delight, they were prefabricating new frames for all the windows. She had a twinge of guilt; she should be working alongside her crew.
“How’s it going?” Dottie asked, standing.
“Not well,” Josie admitted. “Bobby Valentine knows that I grew up with Courtney.”
Annette gasped, and Josie realized she had just explained more than she had planned to. “I… I can’t imagine that my past has anything, anything at all, to do with Courtney’s murder. I know I’m asking you to take my word for it, but-”
“Who else knows she’s dead?” Dottie interrupted to ask.
“I… I didn’t tell anyone. As far as I know, no one else knows.”
“You should keep it that way,” Dottie stated flatly. “And maybe we should all get together later to talk.”
Josie stared at the other woman for a moment, taking her time to decide. “You’re right.” Annette’s and Jill’s faces also displayed concern. “I have to talk to Bobby Valentine and I won’t tell him about… Courtney, but I hate to lose more work time. Would it be possible for us to meet for dinner tonight at the office? Pizza and beer? My treat.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Me, too.”
“Count me in.”
Annette and Jill agreed with Dottie.
“Good. I’d better get going then. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll go ahead and demo the south wall and then we can start framing in the second-floor addition.”
“Great.” With a new crew, there was always a moment when Josie realized that either she had hired the right people or she hadn’t. This was the moment. And she had.
She left to find Bobby Valentine, knowing that she could depend upon these women to keep going.
Chad was near the front deck. “Mr. Valentine said he would be waiting for you in Courtney’s trailer. It’s the one with the show’s logo stenciled on the doors.”
“Thanks.” She started toward the street and then turned back to the young man. “I hear you and Annette are dating.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I don’t want to be a busybody, but I think it’s nice. I mean, that you two are seeing each other. You’re both new on the island and it can be lonely.” She realized she sounded like an idiot and changed the subject. “Courtney’s trailer is the one with the logo on the doors? Is that what you said?”
Chad looked at her as if he thought she had lost her mind. �
��Yeah. That’s the one. I… I’ll see you.”
“Yes. Sure.” Why didn’t she shut up? Her father had said she babbled like a brook when she was nervous-and after all these years she could still feel the sting of his comments. Well, she had more important things to worry about now. She continued on her way.
There were two trailers on the street, but only one carried the gold castle with COURTNEY CASTLE printed in a circle around it, and that one also displayed an open door. Josie climbed the two steps that hung from its side and called out, “Hello. Bobby?”
“Josie. Come on in. Close the door behind you.”
She did as he ordered, again amazed by the interior of Courtney’s trailer. But apparently she wasn’t going to have a lot of time to look around.
“Sit down. I think we need to have an honest talk.”
Josie sat on the edge of the plush chintz-covered couch. She wasn’t going to get comfortable until she found out exactly how much he knew about Courtney’s past-and hers.
But it seemed that he was the one who was going to ask the questions. “So, Josie Pigeon, how much do you know about all this?”
“I… To be honest, I have no idea what you’re asking me. What do I know about the show? About why you’re here? How you all found Island Contracting? I don’t know anything. And I think I should be the one asking the questions and you should be providing the answers.” She leaned back and felt something stabbing at her spine. Glad to have something to do in the awkward silence that seemed to be forming, she pulled out a pillow and examined it carefully.
“A gift from a fan. Courtney gets hundreds, thousands, every year.”
Josie stared down at the pillow in her lap. She didn’t know much about handwork, but this elaborately embroidered throw pillow displayed dozens of different (and complicated-looking) stitches in even more hues of threads. The part that had stabbed her was worked in metallic threads. It was Courtney’s castle. But the words around the logo were different. “ ‘Courtney Castle’s Crewel Work?’ ” she read, then turned and picked up another pillow. This one was needlepoint- that much she knew from the endless floral monstrosities her mother had worked on for years and years. The castle was the same (although slightly tilted), but the script around the seal read “Stencil with Courtney Castle.” She looked up at Bobby Valentine. “This isn’t Courtney’s first show?”
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