“Taz? It’s Mel.”
“I was hoping I’d get a call from you on this line someday.”
Okay, so it wasn’t going to take a lot of skill to get Taz over the moral quandary of infidelity. “It’s that day. I was hoping I could borrow you for a while this afternoon.”
“Borrow me? Is that shorthand for use me? Some new kink of yours?”
Melanie rolled her eyes. “Probably not in the way you’re thinking, Taz.”
A disappointed hesitation. “Okay, I’ll bite.”
“You’ll be at the press conference today?”
“Of course. I don’t know anyone who won’t be.”
“I need you to take some pics for me.”
“Pics for you or of you?”
“Of me. An attention getter.”
“Hmm . . . You’re not going to make a scene, are you?”
“Why does everyone ask me that? No. I just want a shot with . . .” Melanie flipped a mental coin. “Jason Ayers.”
“What for?” asked Taz, suspicious.
“He’s an old friend. I just want a picture of us together, so I can remember being there when he made the big time.”
There was a pause. “Mel, if he knows you, you can do a selfie.”
“I don’t want a selfie, Taz, I want something professional.”
“So you can use it for your own publicity.”
“Come on, Taz, this is what you do for a living.”
“How much were you planning on spending? It being my livelihood and all.”
Now it was Melanie’s turn to be quiet. If she had to come right out and say it, the game was lost.
“Maybe we could work something out,” said Taz.
Melanie smiled. She had him. “I’m sure we can, Taz.” Only it wasn’t going to be exactly what Taz had in mind.
“The press conference is at one. Where do you want to meet?”
“We won’t have to, not before, anyway. Just have your gear, and be clicking away when you see me.”
“Video too?”
“Why not?”
“Okay. This better be worth it, Mel.”
“Believe me, Taz, it will be.”
For her, anyway. Melanie hung up. She had a lot to do before one o’clock.
The public bathroom at the community park was nicer than Melanie’s. She balanced her phone on the vanity, taking another look at the cast on the Shock and Awe webpage. The face of Lisa Vista—where had she come up with that stage name?—stared out at Melanie, a hard stare, as if she knew what Melanie had in mind.
Melanie gave Lisa’s picture the finger. She’d met Lisa a few times on shoots. They were about the same age and same height, although Lisa had more experience on the screen, having started earlier in life, playing the good little girl parts. Melanie had been stunned when Lisa got the role in Shock and Awe, the bitch just didn’t have the right attitude for the role, no rough edges, no spontaneity, no spunk. She was a ballet dancer trying to do freerunning, she had the look but not the moves or the toughness. Melanie could have nailed it, but she hadn’t even been invited to a casting call. Maybe Lisa had slept with Stevens to get the role. Melanie had even read a few articles online suggesting that Lisa’s casting had been a mistake. Damn right.
Melanie deftly spun the brush through her hair, working in the gel, doing what she could to tame her waves to match Lisa’s perfectly straight hair. Melanie was good with hair. Her mother had been a stylist, and Melanie had sat many days after school in the salon, toying with the tools of the trade, the ladies giving her some lessons when things were slow. It was at the salon where Melanie had read all the gossip mags, and it was there that she decided to be an actress. One day little girls would be looking at Melanie’s picture in one of those magazines, women all over the country would be copying her latest hairstyle . . .
Right now, she just needed to look a little like Lisa. The clothes had been no problem; the entire cast of Shock and Awe had been wardrobed by some goth flameout, black on black, stuff Melanie had in the closet but had stopped wearing years ago. The best thing was the black beret, the signature of Lisa’s cast role, the part of the outfit that would make the viewers think it was Lisa even when a double was doing her stunts. Melanie had found one just like it at a second hand shop on the way to the park. And a red one as well.
Earlier that morning Melanie had called the hotel where Jason and the rest of the cast would be staying, that being no secret, as there were only two halfway decent hotels in the city. Melanie had a friend there who confirmed that Lisa was not a guest. In fact, besides Stevens and Jason, the only others in town were the lesser supporting cast. That would make things much easier, although Melanie had a backup plan in the event that Lisa had made the trip.
The mayor’s voice reverberated through the bathroom, the sound system actually piped in, so no one would miss a word. How the show was going to bring jobs to Marburg. Marburg welcoming back its own, Jason Ayers, a smattering of applause, blah, blah, blah.
Jason’s name gave Melanie’s heart a little flutter, not from any kind of love, but it was like a cue for showtime, the five minute warning. Though she’d scouted out the location, her act would require a little bit of improv. She’d watched the beginning of the press conference from the edge of the park, and had memorized where the cast was going to be, it was just like blocking out a scene. But she wasn’t the director, she couldn’t tell Jason where to stand, she couldn’t freeze everyone else in place while she made her play. She’d have to rely on her quick thinking.
It could backfire. But she didn’t have much to lose. And burning a bridge with Jason wouldn’t be the end of the world. Shit, it might get Stevens even more interested in her.
Satisfied with her hair, Melanie set the black beret on her head, tilting it to match the photo of Lisa. Once she got the feel, able to put it on without a mirror, she stashed it in the pocket of the leather jacket, on the opposite side from where she had the red beret. Now there was nothing to do but wait.
When Melanie heard the press start to ask questions, she slipped out the bathroom and headed for the back of the stage.
The stage was nothing more than a large bandstand used for summer concerts in the park. Behind it, a large wooded park flowed with hiking trails. Facing the trees behind the bandstand was a concession booth, now closed and locked, and the lattice structure holding up the stage. No one was there, the crowd around front, focused on the press conference.
Melanie kept out of sight, not furtive, just lounging against the side of the concession stand. She couldn’t see who was on the stage, but she could see half the audience. No Taz. She walked to the other side of the booth, and there he was, right in front with the other photographers.
Melanie had been to a few press conferences like these; after the mayor’s announcement, there would be a Q&A with each cast member. Then the cast shoots, supposedly candid but carefully orchestrated. Stevens was there only because no one would have showed up if he hadn’t put in an appearance. Jason was the newsworthy local. The audience wouldn’t be expecting Lisa if they hadn’t already seen her on the stage.
Melanie did her little thing, getting in the role, feeling it. Not pretending she was Lisa, but stepping into the role Lisa would have on the show, but in the way it should be played. A hot, sexy woman, independent, with a withering look that could make even a strong man turn away first. A woman who could take care of herself, who wouldn’t accept any bullshit, a woman who would do whatever was necessary to get what she needed.
A woman like Melanie.
To that she added her own history with Jason, the first time she had snared him, how she had turned him on. She wouldn’t have to fake it, just pull it up out of her memory file; with Jason it hadn’t all been acting.
The last of the questions died down, the photographers scurrying into new positions. They knew the drill. Another announcement of the shoot, more to give the makeup people a last chance for touchups. A group cast photo first, then Steven
s. While he was being shot, all the rest of the cast, including Jason, would wait at the edge of the stage, or even off of it, so that all eyes and cameras would be on Stevens, the biggest name and the biggest ego.
A bustle from the mass of photographers, Stevens was up. Melanie slipped around the back of the booth, hoping no one would be using this opportunity to sneak a smoke. Someone did come around, Melanie turning away, but it was just some guy looking for the bathroom.
Melanie peeked around the corner. The cast clustered at the bottom of the steps, waiting to be called up for their shots. Jason was there, puffing himself up. At the side of the stage he would be in direct view of the photographers.
Melanie heard someone yell, “Mr. Stevens, just one more!”
Showtime.
In one motion Melanie set the black beret on her head, cocking it just right, striding through the group, in the role, changing her walk, her posture, changing everything. Two people now between her and Jason, the makeup gal and a little guy with a too tight leather jacket. Jason hadn’t seen her yet . . .
Melanie walked right through the makeup woman and the guy in leather, the woman taking a step back, Melanie shoving the guy away, hard, he fell on his ass, the commotion causing Jason to look and the photographers to redirect their attention.
Jason’s eyes widening in confusion, something was wrong, the black beret making him pause, and that gave Melanie all the time she needed. She threw her right arm around Jason and pulled him in, and with her left hand, the one closest to the photographers, she grabbed Jason’s wrist. Her lips were on Jason’s before he could react, her tongue in his mouth, Jason’s body reacting before his mind did, maybe some remembered chemistry of his time with Melanie.
Melanie got in a pretty good kiss before Jason came to his senses, his eyes shooting open, recognizing her, trying to pull away, but Melanie, her adrenaline flowing, held on to his wrist. Taz better be catching this part.
Melanie lifted her leg along Jason’s, like she was in bliss, her hidden hand slipping to Jason’s crotch, giving him a playful squeeze. Melanie pulled away before Jason had a chance to. Like everything else, it was her decision, it was what the beret girl from the show would have done. Melanie looked right at the photographers, who were all busily snapping away. She didn’t smile, that wasn’t in the role.
Melanie pulled the black beret from her head and dismissively tossed it aside. She put her hand on Jason’s chest and pushed him away, the femme fatale rejecting her suitor, and pulled on the red beret, tilting it just right.
A half pose, just a few beats, just enough so everyone would think it was a surprise part of the press conference.
Then she disappeared around the back of the stage, heading for the wooded area, hearing the shouts of the photographers, and more important, the clicking of their cameras.
CHAPTER 6
Lenny got to the photo shoot in the park early, scouting the place out. A crew was setting the stage with a podium, basic folding chairs, and a banner proclaiming Marburg as the ‘Hollywood of the East.’ A few old ladies in the audience, this likely the highlight of their week.
Lenny checked the angles. The best shots would be getting the arrivals, although there would be competition. Sure enough, another photographer arrived, a weasely little guy Lenny had seen around who always dressed in brown—brown pants, brown shirts, brown jacket. Where the hell did you even buy a brown shirt, a UPS store? The guy gave Lenny a nod. Lenny nodded back, brown-dressed weasel or not, the guy was kin in some way.
Lenny drifted over to the front of the stage, where a crew member, a nerd who was trying to grow a chinstrap beard and failing miserably, was roping off the photographer stall in front of the audience. Lenny flashed the guy his credentials, a $49 annual purchase from the Independent Guild of Photographers. It usually worked, but the skinny beard must have been honing up, looking for a way to use what little power he had, and he just shook his head. Lenny didn’t even try to talk his way past, he wasn’t sure he wanted to sit there anyway. The photographers in the stall would have the same angle for every shot.
“How about a schedule then?” said Lenny, and the guy paused, maybe trying to figure out why he should say no, but he had about a thousand of them, and reluctantly handed one to Lenny. Lenny sat in one of the uncomfortable audience chairs in the back row and read it over, lighting a cigarillo.
Pretty standard, the mayor, the full cast shoot, Stevens, then the Ayers guy Lenny had seen Melanie with at the club. Melanie . . . had to keep that fire lit, get with her tonight.
Stevens would duck out after his shoot, Lenny was sure of it. No way the star would wait around for the lesser cast to be photographed. That’s when Lenny would make his move, he’d find a spot where Stevens would be picked up, be ready.
It was a nice day, sunny, a perfectly clear sky, all a rarity in Marburg. Another thing Lenny missed from California, good weather. It was always so frigging humid here, barely lunch time and he was already sweating. People were wandering into the park, a few cops lazily lounging along the walkways. A couple of vendors selling cold drinks, some kids playing frisbee. The stage where the proceedings would take place was a tiny bandstand, a make-shift structure of metal and wood that Lenny thought looked rather amateurish. There was no sign of any celebrities yet, not even lower tier wannabes.
Two large box trucks sat to the right of the stage, blocking Lenny’s view of the road along the park. Lenny immediately recognized it as the perfect spot where celebrities could enter and leave the area somewhat inconspicuously. That’s where he would position himself, just before Stevens finished on stage.
Now that he had a plan, Lenny focused on the people in the park. Two young ladies who didn’t look like the usual actress-wannabes had walked in from the street, babbling in animated conversation. Two ladies, two chances. Probably just a couple of college students. Lenny got off a few quick shots of them, then swung the camera around to his side, his photographer shtick was not likely to work on them.
Neither one looked his way, so Lenny called out, “Are you here for the big announcement?”
This had the desired effect, the girls glancing briefly at Lenny and then to the stage. Lenny thought they were both pretty good looking, probably early twenties. The one with the better face had blue eyes, her hair in a braid, draped along her shoulder from under a Red Sox cap. She was a little dumpy though, her loose sweatshirt probably masking the fact that she was flat. The other one had a much better body, and she was showing it off in a tight shirt and jeans. But her face was just the wrong side of average, her dark brown eyes shrunken. Always my luck, thought Lenny, half of what I want.
“What announcement?” asked the blonde.
Lenny tried to act nonchalant, but his heart was thumping. Getting them talking was always the hardest. Which one should he go for? He gestured toward the staging. “Some scenes from a new TV show are going to be shot here in town. I know for a fact they are going to announce it today.”
The girls shrugged in unison. The blonde said, “I didn’t hear about it.”
“Me either,” said the hollow eyed one, not sounding very impressed with Lenny’s implied inside information.
“You should hang, I could fill you in on some dirt. You might see yourself on the news if they pan the audience.”
“Who watches the news?” brown hair asked.
The blonde was nodding. “I don’t. Too negative.”
“Right,” Lenny said, pushing on. “Well, this is a good thing for the local economy. Marburg gets publicity. People get noticed. You get noticed, good things can happen. Fame and fortune.” He was motor mouthing nonsense, it happened every time he got next to a halfway decent looking woman.
“Are you a reporter or something?”
Lenny grinned. “Kind of.” Trying to sound mysterious.
The brunette took him in, dismissively, turning to go. “Whatever.”
“Let me buy you girls a drink.”
“I don’t think so!”
said the brunette, her voice a mocking singsong.
“C’mon, I don’t bite. My name is Lenny.”
The girls were already down the path, laughing to each other, the brunette wiggling her ass. Lenny bit his lip. They were laughing at him, he was certain of it.
He tried to be nice, and this is what he got from women.
Fucking bitches.
Lenny took a few half hearted shots from the back row. The press conference had been a bore, Lenny’s mind drifting toward the audience, trying to catch a glimpse of some good looking women. It was slim pickings.
Still pissed about the two college girls. Maybe the east coast women needed a more direct approach, they might have had their fill of wimpy guys. He had to try something new, come on hard, the alpha male.
A buzz snapped his attention back to the press conference, where some kind of commotion was taking place. A small crowd had gathered, blocking Lenny’s view. He wasn’t that interested, someone probably fell off the stage. A few cries, people in the front row now standing to get a better angle.
On the stage, the mayor and most of the others had turned to look, except for one guy who was rushing away from the commotion, down the stairs on the other side. Stevens. Lenny grinned, the whole thing was probably some kind of diversion so Stevens could make his getaway. Camera at the ready, Lenny ran after him.
Or tried to. Everyone was standing now, the folding chairs so close together that the rows were blocked like rush hour on 495. Lenny swore and pushed his way through, knocking over chairs and drawing a few shoves. Finally clear, Lenny rushed down the aisle, heading for the stage, only to be blocked by the same jerk in brown. The guy was already shaking his head at Lenny.
“Hey, someone over there is having a stroke!” yelled Lenny, pointing.
The crewman was having none of it, he just crossed his arms, barring the way. Lenny took a sharp right, crashing into a big guy with meaty biceps. Lenny bounced off him like he’d run into a NFL lineman, toppling over the front row of chairs, gamely holding on to his camera, taking the brunt of the fall on his elbow. He screeched in pain, untangled himself, and was up and running around the stage.
Random Revenge (Detective Robert Winter Book 1) Page 7