Tawas Goes Hollywood

by Madison Johns

  “So you’re saying it was someone from town?” I asked.

  “I can’t say, unless you know of someone who would have an interest in halting production.”

  “That’s a good point, but I haven’t heard of anyone protesting the movie. It’s good for the town and will bring in revenue.”

  “You might want to stroll around town tomorrow and take a listen,” Wilson said. “Not all the folks in town care for the two of you poking your noses into other people’s business.”

  “I’ll have you know Eleanor and I only do that when we’re trying to solve a case,” I huffed.

  “Oh get off your high horse. I was just saying ... .”

  “I think I need a drink,” I said. “After the day we’ve had, it’s warranted.”

  “After you find Amim and satisfy yourself with her answers,” Andrew said. “Wilson and I will hang out here until you get back.”

  Eleanor and I walked up the hallway to Amim’s room. “We need to ask Amim about who her real father is and why she didn’t tell the writers about Louis’s murder. And who handled the script onset today,” I said.

  “Don’t forget, we have other potential suspects to question,” Eleanor said, pulling out the list. “Peter Bishop, Cheryl Fox, Madison Park and the hairdresser, Yasmin Quinn.”

  “It’s going to be a long few days of investigating to find out who killed Louis—if it doesn’t kills us first.”

  “I’d rather it not kill us, if you don’t mind.” Eleanor chuckled.

  “What’re the odds that Amim will be in her room tonight?”

  “Beats me, but if you don’t knock on the door we’ll never find out.” Eleanor raised her fist in deadly intent. She’s known to nearly pound a door off its hinges.

  “I’d rather see this wrapped up soon. I’d be heartbroken if this movie was canceled,” I whispered as I knocked on the door.

  Brianne opened the door. Her face dropped. “Amim is busy right now.”

  “It’s fine, Brianne, I always have time for my favorite ladies.”

  Eleanor and I entered the room. “We were hoping to speak privately with you for a moment,” I said.

  “Brianne was on her way out to check on Ivy’s progress. I sent her out to run some errands. I hope she’s able to find Starbuck’s coffee at Walmart.”

  “That sounds easy enough to find, but this is Ivy we’re talking about,” Brianne said.

  My brow shot up. “What was that all about?” I asked once Brianne was out the door.

  “Brianne isn’t enthused about being my first assistant. She’s been my personal assistant and I’m afraid the transition will be hard for her. She’s not normally on set and has no desire to be. I’ll have to bring in another person when I’m done with this movie. It’s too late to bring someone on now, not when we’ve lost an entire day of shooting.”

  “Has anyone handled Louis’s funeral arrangements?”

  “Sheriff Peterson said the coroner hasn’t released his body yet. I’ll arrange for a cremation.”

  “So there’s nobody in California who would want to pay their last respects?” I asked.

  “I’ll arrange a memorial service when we get back to Los Angeles.”

  “And you’re certain he wanted to be cremated?” Eleanor asked.

  “Yes, why?”

  “I suppose it’s a good thing that his body hasn’t been released yet.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Just that he was murdered and a cremation is a good way to go I suppose if you wanted to destroy evidence,” Eleanor said.

  Amim gasped and I quickly said, “Eleanor didn’t mean you personally. We watch too many cop shows, I’m afraid.”

  Eleanor nodded curtly. “Cops like when they can exhume a body.”

  “I hardly think they like to exhume a body, Eleanor,” I cautioned. “Besides, I hardly think the coroner is checking for poison.”

  “The toxicology report will take longer,” Amim said. “That’s been my experience when I’ve conducted research for a movie.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but Eleanor and I have a few more questions.”

  “Who is your father if you’re determined it’s not Louis?” Eleanor asked.

  Amim’s brow furrowed. “I hardly think this is pertinent to your investigation, but I certainly have a father.”

  Eleanor stepped closer to Amim. “And it’s not Louis?”

  “No!”

  “How can we be certain you’re telling the truth?” Eleanor asked.

  “Eleanor! That’s enough. We have no reason to believe Amim has been untruthful.”

  Amim narrowed her eyes slightly. “What is going on here? Do you consider me a suspect?”

  “Everyone is at this point,” I pointed out. “It’s just that if we knew who your real father is we could eliminate you as a suspect.”

  Amim walked over to the window and glanced out. “And here I thought we were friends.”

  “We are,” I protested. “If you’d rather not tell us we’ll drop the subject.”

  “Please do. I have to stay focused on the movie.”

  “Which brings us to our last question: Why didn’t you tell Brax and Austin that Louis was murdered? They were quite shocked when we told them tonight.”

  Amim turned to face us. “I needed them to stay focused to make the changes I’ve suggested. It’s not as if they knew Louis personally.”

  “We’ve gathered as much. I would have thought it was important to tell them. They might have even been able to point us in the right direction.”

  “They didn’t know him,” Amim reiterated.

  “Still, they might have information you’re not aware of.”

  Amim walked to the window and glanced through the curtain and turned back to us. “And were they able to help you?”

  “No, but that’s not the point,” Eleanor said. “They were shocked when we told them.”

  Amim picked up a folder and flipped it open. “I didn’t think I —.”

  “There’s no sense in worrying about it now,” I said. “Who handled the script today? Brax mentioned a writer is usually on set to handle changes.”

  “I was counting on Louis to handle it, but Brianne had to do it today.”

  “Poor Brianne,” I said.

  “She’ll catch on.”

  “We appreciate you answering our questions,” I said. “All our encounters with you have been friendly. I’m sorry we’ve been such a bother.”

  “You’re not the only one who we’ve been questioning,” Eleanor said. “We’d love to be able to wrap this case up so we all can put it behind us.”

  “That’s what everyone wants,” Amim said.

  I tried to lighten the mood. “So how are the plans for the scene tomorrow?”

  Amim smiled. “I thought you and Eleanor could be seated in the restaurant eating a pizza.”

  “That’s so Alfred Hitchcock,” I said.

  “Exactly my thought. Not that it hasn’t been done before. Your names will be in the credits as well.”

  “What should we wear?” Eleanor asked, a huge smile plastered on her face.

  “Please dress casual. You’ll even have your own makeup artist and hair dresser.”

  “The same one who is making the actors look so fabulous?”

  “Trust me, Yasmine doesn’t mind the work. Otherwise I’d have never hired her.”

  “I don’t suppose we could meet her tonight?” I asked.

  “She’s busy putting her palettes together and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bother her.”

  “Good point,” I said. “I’m zonked for the day anyway.”

  “I’ll see you ladies in the morning,” Amim said as she walked us to the door.

  “How about that,” Eleanor huffed as we walked down the hallway. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think Amim was trying to stall us. What if she plans on giving Yasmine a heads up about us?”

  “What could she possible have to say about us
?”

  “That we’re planning on questioning her and that she needs to button her lip.”

  I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “You have a point, but however will we be able to find out which room Yasmine is staying in?”

  “You’re normally more resourceful than this,” Eleanor said.

  “I know, but it bugs me that Amim isn’t more forthcoming with who her real father is.”

  “He might never have been in her life.”

  “Or it’s really Louis, but she doesn’t want us to know the truth.”

  “Because we’d suspect her? But we’ve already told Amim she’s a suspect.”

  “I wonder if that was the smartest tactic. She’s going to be more close-mouthed now.”

  “It doesn’t matter unless we find another clue that points in her direction.”

  “Let’s hope for all of our sakes that doesn’t happen.”

  I knocked on the writers’ door for the second time today and Brax opened it, his body blocking the inside of the room. “What can we help you with?”

  “What’s going on in there?” Eleanor asked as she attempted to look over his shoulder.

  “We have company.”

  “Enough said. All we wanted to ask is if you knew where Yasmine was staying?”

  “She won’t let you in her room,” Brax said. “She has a no-contact policy before a shoot.”

  “She won’t even speak to Amim?” Eleanor asked.

  “Not a chance.”

  I shrugged. “Thanks, and have a good night.”

  I led the way downstairs before I remembered that our husbands were in the writers’ room, but when the elevator door opened Andrew and Wilson motioned us inside.

  “Why are you two doing in here?” I asked.

  “We were downstairs until we remembered we had forgotten our ladies,” Wilson said. “So up we came.”

  “Brax and Austin’s company arrived and we knew it was time to go,” Andrew said.

  “Smart choice. They wouldn’t even let us peek inside the door.” I then explained why we wanted to speak with them again.

  “We’ll probably have a better chance of speaking to the hairstylist tomorrow,” Eleanor said.

  “She might be too busy,” Andrew suggested. “I was under the impression that two scenes will be shot tomorrow.”

  “That’s our understanding.”

  “Does that mean we can go home finally?” Wilson asked.

  “That’s exactly right.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eleanor and I were lingering outside G’s the next morning beneath a canopy tent that had been erected.

  Yasmine was dark skinned, with half of her pink hair shaved and the other long and braided. She was in her early twenties and wore a tank top and khaki shorts and Converse tennis shoes a color that matched her hair.

  “Could we ask you a few questions?” I asked.

  “Not unless it relates to your hair or makeup today.”

  “So we can’t discuss Louis’s death?”

  “Not the time or place.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight if I’m not too busy setting up for tomorrow.”

  “You’re certainly driven.”

  “It’s the job.”

  “We were told you’ll be doing our makeup too,” Eleanor said.

  “I don’t know why I told Roman I could handle that too, but it will keep me hopping.” She smiled, revealing a silver stud in her tongue as she brushed powder on my face.

  “You should be in a movie,” I offered.

  “Not a chance. I’d rather stay behind the scenes.”

  ELEANOR AND I FROWNED as a hot pizza was delivered to our booth in the pizzeria.

  “This is so disappointing. We can’t even eat the pizza,” I grumbled.

  “Not yet, you can’t,” Eileen cautioned as she stood near the door on her mark. “Don’t worry, Amim is about ready.”

  Brianne walked over and said, “Ladies we want you to eat your pizza and do your best to ignore the camera or boom microphone. When you hear a commotion from Eileen and Hannah’s table, pop a glance at them and return to eating. We want you to be only part of the background in a busy restaurant. Do not look at camera, okay?”

  “Sure thing,” I said as Eleanor bobbed her head in agreement.

  “Action!” Amim called out a split second later.

  Brianne clacked the clapperboard and called out, “Opening scene, take one.”

  Eileen and Hannah meandered to their table and sat down with a huff. “I can’t believe that Dorothy Alton. I have a mind to go down to Fuzzy’s and give her a piece of my mind,” Eileen said.

  “Not quite yet, dear. We’re meeting Elsie and Marjory at the dock. The Hayes purchased a yacht,” Hannah said. “I know Elsie is our friend, but sometimes she overplays her importance in Tawas. She’s not any better or worse than either of us.”

  I bit my tongue. Elsie would murder us when this movie came out!

  “Oh no, here she comes,” Eileen said.

  A large woman dressed all in blue waltzed past with another woman wearing a yellow golfing ensemble. “At least they had that part right,” Eleanor mouthed to me silently.

  “Oh there you are, ladies,” Elsie said. “We were planning to have an elegant meal on the yacht. Word has it Sheriff Peterson has been called there, but we have no idea why.”

  Eleanor and I popped a glance toward the actresses before returning to our pizza. A moment later Amim yelled, “Cut!”

  Eleanor and I were poised to leave, but Brianne stopped us. “You’ll have to sit here until we’re finished with the scene.”

  “But you just finished it,” I protested.

  “That was only one take. Sometimes it takes many more before the director is satisfied.”

  “Amim has it all wrong about Elsie and Marjory’s characters. They aren’t that haughty, and Marjory and Bill most certainly would never purchase a yacht.”

  “They don’t leave the golf course long enough to do that,” Eleanor added.

  “What’s wrong over here?” Amim asked as stalked over to our booth.

  “Eleanor and Agnes are concerned about how Elsie and Marjory are being portrayed.”

  “Look, I’m sorry you feel that way, but that’s the script and we’re not changing it to suit you.”

  Amim’s determined face told me she wasn’t about to argue the point further. She didn’t have to; this was her movie. I could only hope the movie wouldn’t anger our friends in Tawas.

  I lost count of all the takes before we were finally allowed to leave. Eleanor and I were the last ones out of G’s. The canopy tent had been taken down, presumably to set up at the next scene ... the discovery of the body.

  “Are we heading over to the dock?” Eleanor asked.

  “We’re not in that scene, and I don’t want to sit around and wait.”

  “You’re right. Being part of a movie scene isn’t as interesting as I thought.”

  “I do think we need to coach Eileen and Hannah for the scene at Fuzzy’s. That’s an important scene. Who could forget your scuffle with Dorothy Alton and how you had an ice cream fight there?” I laughed.

  “I’d much rather forget, but Dorothy and I have never been able to get along even if things have improved the last few years.”

  “I can’t wait to see how Dorothy is portrayed.”

  “We shouldn’t get too excited about that. Who knows how accurate that will be,” Eleanor said.

  “True, and our friends won’t be happy when they see how this movie turns out.”

  “Let’s not be negative.”

  “Okay, but it’s quite clear Amim has no interest in our involvement,” I said.

  “That means we’ll have more time to focus on finding out who murdered Louis.”

  “Right. Because we have some down time, let’s drop by the coroner’s office and the sheriff’s department.”

  It was smooth sailing to the hospital despite a traffic jam tr
ying to enter the state dock parking lot. Deputies blocked the entrance so nobody could drive in. Cars pulled onto the grass to park, where the state police were on hand to caution the drivers to move their cars. They even went as far to have a wrecker on hand to tow cars if they had to. Jimmy, the wrecker driver, seemed to be enjoying his job a little too much as he grinned at the shapely young ladies struggling to get a glimpse of filming at the dock.

  “I don’t think we’ll be able to speak with Peterson today,” Eleanor ventured as I pulled into the hospital parking lot. “All the cops in town are busy trying to keep order.”

  ELEANOR AND I NEARLY bumped into Walter Smitty as we walked up the hallway at the hospital.

  “We were hoping to catch you, Walter,” I said.

  He looked up. “I should have expected you ladies to return.”

  “We were wondering if you were able to match the thread from the rope we gave to Peterson to the fiber you found embedded in Louis’s neck.”

  “I don’t have it.”

  “What do you mean you don’t have it?” Eleanor asked. “We gave it to Peterson.”

  “And we were sure he’d bring it here straightaway,” I added.

  “He must have handed it off to forensics,” the coroner said. “Matching fibers is their job, not mine.”

  “Toxicology reports?”

  “Not back yet. You ladies know these things take time.”

  “So is there anything you can tell us?” I begged.

  “I’m afraid not, but I’ll be sure to contact you if I find anything of interest.”

  “When will the body be released?”

  “It was released this morning. They were in quite a hurry to take it to the crematory.”

  “Let me guess, Amim Banks picked up the body.”

  “No, it was a man. I couldn’t even read his signature. I could show it to you if you’d like.”

  “We’d like that very much,” Eleanor exclaimed.

  We followed Smitty into his office. He jiggled a key into the lock of a file cabinet, pulled a document and handed it to me.

  “You’re right, Smitty. I can’t read this signature either. Didn’t he have to fill out a form?”

  “The penmanship is just as bad.”