Murder on the Movie Set

by Sandi Scott

  “I can’t help it. This is so exciting.”

  “These are just people at work, Aleta,” Georgie soothed, slipping her arm through her sister’s as they walked back toward the security guard. “They put their pants on one leg at a time just like we do.”

  “Georgie Kaye?”

  Both ladies turned to see an attractive young woman wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard approaching them. She smiled at the twins through the sea of freckles on her cheeks, her long red hair pulled back in a pony-tail that swung jauntily from side to side as she walked.

  Georgie extended her hand.

  “Welcome. I’m Cassandra Paine, Assistant to the Assistant Producer Beverly Hope. I’ll be playing tour guide today. You must be Georgie’s sister, Aleta.”

  Aleta shook Cassandra’s hand, smiling and nodding her head until Georgie was afraid it might fall off.

  "Follow me, ladies.” Cassandra briskly took charge and made short work of picking up badges for them from the security guard before inquiring, “Are you ready to get a glimpse of how a movie is made?"

  “We are,” Georgie’s voice was calm, masking her inner excitement. “One thing we noticed right off the bat was how many people there are walking around. I am really amazed that it requires so much manpower to shoot a couple of scenes.”

  Cassandra nodded her head and explained the huge number of people needed for lighting and sound. Then she talked about the various camera angles that were shot simultaneously and how half a dozen other folks were there just to protect against the “what-ifs” that might cause a delay in filming.

  “First, let’s start with something a little more fun,” Cassandra said, putting her hand on her hip, “the Wardrobe trailer.”

  They made their way through the buzzing hive of the set. Walking past an old, dilapidated log cabin designed for the morning’s filming, they arrived at a huge trailer that had racks and racks of clothing pouring out onto a makeshift hardwood floor on top of the grass. It was there to keep the costumes clean, even if the clothes were supposed to look dirty in the movie.

  "Now, we can linger here for a little while. I think one of the stars is going to be coming by soon for a fitting."

  “Is it Dustin Stetson?” Aleta almost panted.

  “No, I’m sorry but he won’t be here today. Ryn Hudson is shooting her scenes today.”

  Both sisters slumped slightly. Georgie knew Aleta was hoping to meet her silver screen heartthrob. Plus, Georgie was looking forward to seeing her sister act like a love-struck teenager, so she could tease her about it in the months to come. This was disappointing. But their attitudes changed almost immediately when Cassandra answered an urgent call over her headset.

  "I'm sorry, ladies, I'm needed at one of the trailers. The Craft Service tables are around behind those equipment trucks, so why don't you go on over there and have a snack. I'll come find you in a few minutes." Before Georgie and Aleta could say anything, Cassandra was marching off with her clipboard in one hand holding her earpiece tightly against her ear with the other.

  “Craft Service tables?” Aleta brightened immediately.

  “Lead the way, Sis,” Georgie urged, “or maybe I should go ahead since I’m older?”

  There were seven tables on the same fake flooring as the Wardrobe Trailer. Each table was arranged with mountains of food ranging from bagels and cream cheese to cold cuts and fancy rolls. There were two soups in steaming caldrons and a sweets table to rival the most elaborate starlet wedding.

  "Tell me that those are really Bossche Bols." Georgie pointed to a circle of adorable balls of dark chocolate that sat proudly inside a circle of apple pie slices, beige brownies, bowls of M&Ms, and half a dozen fruit tarts.

  “I think you are right,” Aleta’s eyes lit up. “This makes the whole trip worth it.”

  Daintily, the ladies each took a plate and picked up the thin pastry filled with whipped cream and covered completely in dark chocolate.

  They saw a woman exiting the trailer behind the tables wearing an apron and carrying a tray of what looked like freshly baked bread. Before they could ask her about the delectable treasure at the dessert table, a man in blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt came stomping up to her. Judging by the way his hair pointed wildly in all directions, the guy looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. His eyes peered out from beneath a protruding brow and his lips were pulled down in more than a frown—it was a scowl. Obviously, from the way his body jerked and twitched, the woman was getting a severe verbal beating.

  “Look at that,” Georgie jerked her chin in the guy’s direction. “I wonder what he’s upset about.”

  "Who knows?" Aleta bit into her Bossche Bol. "I don't know how anyone could be mad with this pastry out here just waiting to be eaten."

  Georgie nodded as she bit into her own dessert.

  “I didn’t do that!” The girl shouted back at the man.

  He leaned closer and got into the woman’s face, but no matter how hard Georgie and Aleta listened—even holding their breath and pausing their chewing— they couldn’t hear him.

  “You don’t need to say that!” the woman again snapped back.

  “Do you? Because I don’t think you do!” the man yelled loudly before stomping away.

  The woman had been holding the tray of bread the entire time she was being chastised. From the shade of red her cheeks had turned, she was obviously humiliated and angry.

  Carefully, Georgie and Aleta walked up to her and asked if she was the one who made the desserts.

  “If you have a complaint, you’ll have to stand in line,” she snapped as she added the rolls to an almost empty basket.

  "No," Georgie offered, "on the contrary, my sister and I wanted to say that these Bossche Bols are fabulous and made the whole trip to the set worthwhile. Did you make them?"

  “The woman’s shoulders slumped, and she set down the silver tray she’d been holding. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken out my troubles on you. I’m Lorelei Carmello. Yes, I made all the pastries and I’m glad you like them.”

  “Who was that guy with the attitude?” Aleta asked—around a mouthful of beige brownie—after introducing herself and Georgie.

  “Oh, him.” Lorelei rolled her eyes. “He’s nobody in my book. Just another ungrateful Hollywood windbag who gets high on his own supply.”

  “Excuse me?” Aleta gasped.

  “I just mean, he believes all the hype about himself that’s printed in Variety. There is nothing worse than a guy who thinks his yes-men are telling him the truth. But, you didn’t come here to listen to me.”

  “You must have to deal with some bad attitudes at times,” Georgie soothed.

  “You have no idea. If you want to see some of the filming, I think they are about to get started. I just saw the female lead tramping from her trailer to the set.” She winked. “Come see me when you’re done. Regardless of what some of the actors think, my food is delicious.”

  The twins promised they would, then headed off in the direction of the log cabin.

  “I thought that was a real log cabin,” Aleta’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, “but it’s fake. Look, it’s on a rolling kind of thing.”

  "Well, I'll be," Georgie muttered. They followed a guy, who looked like he knew what he was doing, into the cabin, only to find it was just a partial cabin. There were cameras and lights along with half a dozen props. Georgie counted more than thirty people crammed together, not including the actors who were the only people with room to breathe. They were standing in a fake living room with a fire burning, no real ceiling, and red and blue tape marks on the floor.

  “Quiet on the set!”

  Everyone went silent.

  A guy with a clapboard came and announced something about a scene and a take before clapping the black and white board together.

  From behind a camera, where Georgie couldn’t see, came the word “ACTION!”

  It was only a matter of seconds into the shooting when they heard the
word “CUT!” This went on for almost fifteen minutes.

  “CUT! CUT! CUT! What is wrong with you, Ryn? We went over this!” The voice was beginning to sound frustrated.

  “You cut my lines!” the actress shouted back.

  “Let’s be professional about this, Ryn, okay? Scripts are changed all the time. Don’t blame the script changes for your bad performance!”

  “You didn’t have a problem until the Top Brass showed up!” The young woman jerked her thumb toward the same skinny man Georgie and Aleta had seen hassling Lorelei.

  “You better watch your step, Ryn!”

  “And you better remember I’m not just some flunky, Robbie! I told you this wasn’t going to work!” The actress who was yelling had to weigh about ninety pounds soaking wet, but her eyes blazed with an anger Georgie had only seen in horror movies.

  She was wearing a simple beige skirt and a billowy white blouse that reminded Georgie of a similar one she had forgotten about that was hanging in her closet. The actress seemed even shorter because her shoes were flats. From where Georgie was sitting, the girl obviously had about ten extra pounds of hair attached to her head. Although it looked fake to Georgie, she guessed on film it looked radiant and soon every woman who watched this movie would want hair just like that.

  There was a vicious back and forth—between the voice behind the camera and the actress—that became more uncomfortable for everyone in the room.

  “You cut my lines and now you’re complaining the scene isn’t working? Nothing is wrong with me! You’ve just lost your knack for this!” she stormed off the set. Everyone got out of her way as if she were a rogue gorilla making for the exit instead of a petite young woman with her hands at her sides.

  "Yikes," Aleta whispered.

  The looks on everyone’s faces captured what Georgie felt—this was uncomfortable, even shocking.

  Georgie wondered if this was a normal occurrence on movie sets. There was always talk about starlets who had dramatic hissy fits about their wardrobe, or deeply submerged character actors who screamed at carpenters for hammering too loudly while they were rehearsing their lines.

  Yes, Georgie was sure this happened all the time. In a week she would be reading in the paper that this particular actress would be marrying her director, the antagonist, and, in an incredible coincidence, the actress would then shoot up the scale to become the highest paid female lead in Hollywood.

  “I think we need more sweets in order to continue,” Georgie tugged at Aleta who nodded her head.

  “Can you believe that?” Aleta mused. “I wonder if Dustin ever acts that way on a set?”

  “You can call him Dustin now? You’ve become that close?” Georgie teased.

  “What other Dustin do you know? None, all right? So, I can call him Dustin when he’s not around. Now, if he were standing right here in front of me I’d call him—”

  “Big Daddy.” Georgie burst out laughing as her sister’s cheeks flushed. Aleta tried, but her giggles wouldn’t stay suppressed.

  “I wonder if Lorelei is still at the food trailer. I wouldn’t mind getting her take on all this. You could ask her if your BFF Dustin has ever had a freak-out on the set.”

  “I’d like to know. It says what kind of person you are.”

  “You think? I can’t say that girl is wrong since we’ve only been here an hour or so, but can you imagine someone yelling ‘CUT-CUT-CUT’ repeatedly at your job while you were trying to get something accomplished? It would be miserable.”

  “Yes, but it’s why she gets paid. I’m sure her paycheck compensates for any hurt feelings she might have.” Aleta was always serious when it came to business. If you signed a contract, you fulfilled it—no matter what.

  As they continued to discuss the drama that had just unfolded, the sisters headed past the equipment trucks toward the food display, but stopped short.

  “Do you hear that?” Georgie whispered.

  Aleta froze and listened. Someone was crying behind the ambulance that was parked to one side.

  “Why in the world is this ambulance here? And why did they park it next to the food trailer?” Aleta observed.

  “Very funny,” Georgie kept her voice low. “Don’t you hear that?”

  They walked carefully around the back of the trailer only to see the woman who had, just a few minutes ago, been trying to recite her lines. She was sitting on the hard metal steps at the back of the ambulance with her hands in her lap.

  “Are you okay?” Georgie asked.

  “No, I’m not,” the young actress replied, her voice muffled by tears.

  Chapter 3

  Georgie put her hand out in concern, but drew it back hastily when the young woman wiped her eyes carefully before snapping, “Who are you, anyway? The set is closed to the public.”

  The twins quickly introduced themselves, explaining how Georgie had won day passes for two to come and see the filming.

  “I’m Ryn Hudson. I’m sure you enjoyed seeing that,” the actress said next, jerking her chin toward the log cabin set. “I don’t know why I agreed to this film. I knew it was going to be tough working with Robbie, but it’s turned into such a nightmare.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve before Georgie reached into her purse and pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with a parrot on it.

  “How lovely.” Ryn looked down at the beautiful bird. “I almost hate to use it.”

  “Go ahead. I have tons of them,” Georgie replied, smiling kindly.

  “I’m normally not like this,” Ryn’s voice choked up again as she used Georgie’s hankie to dab the corners of her eyes. “I love acting and the people who come to see my movies. I’m certainly not racking up the Oscars, but I work really hard even if the story isn’t the greatest. I don’t want to cause waves, but Robbie took all my lines and gave them to Ross. He’s not even a major character. So, every time I speak now I’m either crying, whining, or daydreaming. Not me, you understand, but my character. It’s degrading.”

  “Why would he do that?” Georgie asked.

  "Are you kidding? Jason Hobbs is the producer, in other words, the one footing the bill. When he says jump, Robbie asks how high. Robbie wants to get ‘back’ into the business so much that he will do whatever Jason asks." Ryn used her fingers as air quotes.

  “Maybe you could have a talk with Jason or Robbie?” Aleta encouraged.

  “Huh, yeah,” Ryn huffed. “Those guys wouldn’t listen to their own mothers on their deathbeds let alone an actress in one of their films. Robbie hasn’t had a successful film in decades and what you just heard is why. I thought that after such a long ‘hiatus’ he’d be open to suggestions and ready to really bring out the best in his actors. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Jason’s got a formula in mind and it requires that the men have the good lines and the women show a little skin. That’s it.”

  Ryn tried not to cry, but it was obvious this was more troubling to her than the twins could imagine.

  “I’m a good actress,” She mumbled. “How many women quit because of him? I deserve better. Jason deserves to get his comeuppance and I’d sure like to be there when he does.”

  Before Georgie could ask any more questions, a heavy-set fellow with glasses—and, of course, a clipboard and earpiece—appeared on the other side of the trailer.

  “Excuse me, Ryn,” he interrupted, while pushing up a set of thick glasses, “they’re ready for you on the set.”

  Without another word, Ryn stood up, smoothing back her hair.

  “Thanks for listening,” she smiled. Before the twins could say anything, she left with the fellow in the glasses and headed back to the set. Georgie and Aleta followed.

  The rest of the morning the shooting went off without a hitch. People got their lines right and the view of the lake behind the fake cabin was captured perfectly. Finally, at one o’clock there was a break for lunch.

  Georgie and Aleta took their plates loaded with homemade meatloaf, mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, and gravy. "This l
ooks delicious," Aleta whispered to Georgie as they sat off by themselves letting the cast and crew have the seats at the tables.

  "I'm sorry Dustin Stetson didn't show up," Georgie replied as she took a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “Mmm, these have just a hint of garlic in them and something else."

  "It tastes like dill," Aleta added. "Well, you had no way of knowing he wouldn't be here. Still, this whole thing has been rather enlightening. I knew a lot went into making a movie, but this is almost too tedious for words."

  “Yes, as opposed to dealing with numbers and finances all day long, you’re right,” Georgie teased her sister who was, after all, a retired financial advisor.

  Both women chuckled and continued talking in hushed voices when an ear-piercing scream shattered the entire ambiance of the set.

  Cassandra, who neither Georgie nor Aleta had seen take a bite of food since they had been there, took off in the direction of the cry. A couple of stagehands did the same. As if the thought hit them both at the same time, Georgie and Aleta followed cautiously behind.

  The scream had come from the door of one of the biggest trailers on the location. Now there was a small knot of people huddled around the door. Georgie could see Cassandra and the men peering anxiously at something inside the trailer.

  "Can you see anything?" Aleta asked Georgie who was closer to the entrance of the trailer.

  “I see some feet. It looks like someone has fallen down inside the trailer.”

  Just then the medics from the ambulance Georgie and Aleta had seen earlier burst through the crowd of onlookers and carried their tackle boxes of life up the stairs into the trailer. By shifting her position slightly, and standing on tiptoes, Georgie could just see who was laying on the floor. She put her hand over her mouth to stop from gasping out loud, then leaned over slightly, cupping her hand around Aleta’s ear, and said softly, “It’s Jason Hobbs. Something isn’t right here.”

  The medics lifted the motionless man up and carried him down the steps and out of the trailer, laying him gently on the grass. His face was blue and his eyes bulged open. Georgie was sure he couldn’t see anything anymore.