Cherry Cheesecake Murder (22 page)

The three sisters stood there gazing at the scene for a moment. It was strange to see so many Lake Eden people dressed in fancy evening clothes in the middle of the afternoon. Hannah was the first to turn away and as she did, she noticed that both of her siblings were watching Dean Lawrence with identical hungry looks in their eyes.

Hannah shrugged slightly. She guessed she could understand their fascination with the director. He was handsome and as long as her sisters were just “window shopping,” that was fine with her. Dean looked slightly disheveled and wickedly charming. He would have been right at home in a pirate’s costume, ravishing women left and right.

Her attention shifted to a familiar figure who’d just walked in. It was Ross and as far as Hannah was concerned, he was much more appealing than Dean. It was true that he wasn’t quite as handsome, but her Grandma Ingrid used to say, Handsome is as handsome does, and Hannah thought she was right. Ross was a much nicer person than Dean and he cared about people other than himself.

“Hey, Shelly. Mike and I are here.”

Hannah turned to see Lonnie Murphy, Michelle’s significant Lake Eden other, standing behind them in full-dress uniform. It was dark blue instead of tan and maroon, the colors of the Winnetka Country Sheriff’s Department, and there was a patch sewn on the shoulder that read, CHERRYWOOD P. D.

Lonnie was smiling and Hannah smiled back. He was the only person who could get away with calling her sister, Shelly, a name Michelle absolutely despised. And the fact that Michelle didn’t seem to mind at all when Lonnie said it told a lot about their relationship.

Michelle turned and a big smile spread across her face. Hannah was relieved to notice that the look in Michelle’s eyes when she shifted her attention to Lonnie was at least a hundred watts brighter than the look she’d given Dean. Michelle had her priorities straight, but did Andrea? Hannah’s middle sister was still focused entirely on the Bad Boy Director.

Then something happened that caused Hannah to relax slightly. Sharyn Lawrence stepped onto the set and wove her way through the extras to greet her husband. Andrea stared at her for a moment and then she turned to Hannah.

“That’s Sharyn,” she said. “She’s Dean’s wife.”

“I didn’t know you’d met her.”

“I haven’t, but who else could it be? Dean said his wife had raven hair.”

“You’ve been talking to Dean about his wife?”

“Not really. He just happened to mention her, that’s all. We were talking about Tracey’s part in the movie.”

Hannah decided to take the bull by the horns. “Was that this morning when I knocked on the door at the Winnebago?”

“Uh…yes. Look, Hannah. Nothing happened.”

“Then why did you go out the back way?”

“He asked me to. He wanted to avoid any gossip, you know? I mean, since I’m married and all.”

That hasn’t stopped him in the past, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. She remained perfectly silent and waited for her sister to get uncomfortable enough to go on with her explanation.

“It’s just like I told you, Hannah. Nothing happened! Dean talked to me about Tracey’s part in the movie. He’s been just wonderful about advising us.”

Again, Hannah remained perfectly silent. It wasn’t easy, but the ball was in Andrea’s court.

“He said he called me in so early because he needed to talk to me privately. And that’s when he told me that he’s already chosen his next movie script and I’m perfect for one of the parts.”

“You?” Hannah asked, too startled to remain silent any longer.

“Yes, me. And he even offered to fly me to Hollywood for a screen test.”

Hannah stared at her sister in absolute shock. “Don’t tell me you fell for that old line! My married sister who’s totally in love with her husband, even though she’s momentarily ticked off with him for going off to Miami without her, wouldn’t be that naïve…right?”

“Of course not! I’m almost certain I’m not star material, and I recognize a line when I hear one. But it really was flattering, and I was tempted to say yes for a split second or two.”

“But you said no.”

“Of course I did. But Dean was very persuasive and now I can understand why so many women would do almost anything he asked them to do.”

“I’m just glad you’re not one of those women,” Hannah said. But before she could say anything else, the assistant director called for quiet on the set.

Some of the prop men hurried up to the set carrying champagne classes and handed them to some of the guests at the cocktail party. Others didn’t get glasses and Hannah assumed that they would be approached by waitresses in the scene with their trays of filled glasses.

“Are they really drinking champagne?” Hannah asked her youngest sister.

Michelle shook her head. “It’s cream soda. We’ll do a couple of second unit inserts later with glasses being filled with real champagne.”

“Like the inserts Clark shot of Moishe?”

“That’s right. Excuse me a second, Hannah. Ross needs me.”

Michelle rushed onto the set and up to Ross, who’d motioned to her. A second later she headed for the door and came back with Mike in tow.

“Oh, boy!” Hannah said under her breath. Mike was a sight for sore eyes in his full-dress Cherrywood P. D. uniform. Actually, he was a sight for sore eyes in anything he wore, but she didn’t want to think about that right now.

Mike, his brass gleaming under the lights, followed Ross and Lloyd, the head prop man, as they led him to an ornate white desk trimmed with gold that sat in the corner of the room. It was a double desk, the kind Hannah had always wanted but wasn’t sure why, with room for two people to sit on either side and use it together. Hannah watched as Mike pulled out one of the center drawers and examined what was inside. Then he closed it again, exchanged a couple of words with Lloyd and Ross, and went back out through the living room doorway.

“What was he doing?” Hannah asked Michelle, who’d come back to stand by Andrea.

“He was checking the gun to make sure it was unloaded and Lloyd had removed the firing pin.”

“Is that the gun they use in the suicide scene?” Andrea wanted to know.

“That’s right.”

Hannah started to frown. “But it won’t make any noise at all without a firing pin.”

“That’s right. We’ll add the sound of a gun firing in post production.”

“Why not use blanks?” Andrea asked.

“Blanks are only safe if your target is a few yards away,” Hannah answered, remembering the way Ross had described the suicide scene. “Burke has to put the gun right up to his temple.”

“So?”

“Blanks have a primer and gunpowder inside a casing. It’s sealed with a wad of something that looks like shellac. When the gun’s fired, the wad can exit the barrel with enough velocity to kill Burke.”

“I didn’t know that!” Andrea breathed, shivering a bit.

“A lot of people don’t know that. The only reason I know is that Lisa told me.”

“How did she find out?” Michelle wanted to know.

“Herb teaches a class in gun safety.” Hannah was about to tell them about the television actor who was killed with blanks while pretending to commit suicide on a set, when she saw Delores giving her the high sign. “The Cream Cheese Puffs must be ready. Either that or Mother is trying out for the part of a windmill.”

“I never wanted you to figure it out, but it really doesn’t matter anyway. He looked at me right before I shot him and I keep seeing that look in my dreams. It’s haunting me and I just can’t take it anymore.”

Burke pulled out the center drawer and reached for the gun, but before he could grasp it, there was an angry shout from Dean.

“Cut!” Dean shouted again. “What’s with you, Burke? You’re supposed to make people weep for you! Get up. I’ll show you what I want here.”

Burke looked very embarrassed as he rose to his feet. “I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t know what’s wrong, either. I just can’t seem to get the motivation right. I know Jody’s supposed to be at the end of his rope, but it’s just not working for me.”

“Why not? He’s been dealing with guilt for years and it’s taken its toll. He’s also sloshed to the gills. All you have to do is sell drunk and guilty.”

“I know. We talked about that, and I thought I could do it, but…” Burke stopped speaking and sighed. “My back hurts and I just can’t seem to get it right.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the rest of the cast. “Fine. I’ll show you how it should be done.”

“Thanks, Dean.” Burke moved to the edge of the set and watched as Dean walked toward the desk. But before he got there, the director stopped and turned to his cameramen. “Make this a three-shot. I’ve got the feeling we’re going to need it. The way Burke’s going today, I might have to put it on a loop and screen it for him all night.”

“That was nasty,” Hannah whispered to Michelle.

“And how! Dean’s not about to get nominated for the nicest guy in the movie business,” Michelle whispered back. “When this scene’s over, I’ll tell you what he said to me this morning!”

Hannah glanced at Delores and saw she was doing her windmill impression again. Hannah was about to head up the stairs to fetch more Cream Cheese Puffs when Andrea grabbed her arm.

“I’ll go,” Andrea offered. “I have to make a call anyway. I’ll bring the tray back down when this take’s over.”

“That’s fine with me.” Once Andrea had left, Hannah turned her attention back to the scene. Dean was getting a glass of cream soda champagne from one of the waitress and when he turned around to face the camera, she had all she could do not to gasp. He looked glassy eyed, as if he’d been indulging in strong spirits for hours. The illusion of extreme inebriation was embellished even further as he made his way unsteadily through the crowd to approach the antique partner’s desk where Lynne was sitting.

The adult Amy was deep in thought, staring down at the tray of Mini Cherry Cheesecakes that a waitress had left on the top of the desk without really seeing them. Hannah knew Lynne was supposed to be remembering what had happened on the night of her father’s suicide.

“Well, how about that…it’s Li’l Sis,” Dean said, stumbling slightly and catching himself on the corner of the desk. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Oh, Jody. You’re drunk! You’re just as drunk as Dad used to get whenever he threw a cocktail…” Lynne stopped and put both hands to her head, as if she could stop the memories from emerging. It was a perfect gesture and Hannah was impressed.

“You’re thinking about the night he did it?” Dean asked, slurring his words.

“Yes.”

“He was drunk that night, too. And you know what always happened whenever he was drunk.”

Hannah watched as Lynne gave a delicate shudder. Her face actually paled and Hannah could see the tears well up in her eyes. “I know, Jody. I remember.”

“I couldn’t let him do that again, Li’l Sis. No way. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Lynne said and she looked profoundly sad. “It’s all right, Jody. Nobody else has to know what happened that…”

“But I know!” Dean interrupted, and Hannah almost jumped as he leaned forward over the desktop, coming very close to touching Lynne.

“I’ll never tell,” Lynne promised, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I promise, Jody. I’ll never tell a soul.”

“’Course not. Wouldn’t expect you to. But that doesn’t help a whole lot, Li’l Sis. I never wanted you to figure it out, but it really doesn’t matter anyway. He looked at me right before I shot him and I keep seeing that look in my dreams. It’s haunting me and I just can’t take it anymore.”

Dean pulled out the center drawer of the desk and grabbed the gun. He rose to his feet and was raising the revolver to his head when Lynne started to scream. Her scream wasn’t audible over the sound of the music and laughter from the merrymakers at the cocktail party. No one reacted in the slightest.

“No!” Lynne sounded positively panic-stricken. “I love you, Jody! Don’t do this to me!”

“I’m not doing it to you, Li’l Sis. I’m doing it for me.”

Once he’d delivered that line, Dean raised the gun to his temple and squeezed the trigger. The instant the hammer flew forward, there was a loud explosion. The earsplitting blast prompted several screams from the extras, and Hannah stood there staring, barely able to believe what she was seeing. Dean Lawrence, Hollywood’s Bad Boy Director, was lying facedown in the tray of Mini Cherry Cheesecakes, his legs slumped against the front of the desk and his arms dangling limply at his sides. There was no doubt in Hannah’s mind that he’d suffered the same fate as the character he’d been playing. The fake suicide of the movie had turned out to be all too real. The empty revolver without its firing pin had fired!

Even if she were so inclined, there was no way Hannah could get close to the mayhem on the set. People were yelling, screaming, pushing, and shoving to get away from the violent scene. Hannah stood where she was, not wanting to move until some sort of order was restored, and stared at the panicking actors and extras.

Was that a blue uniform in the middle of the melee? Hannah tried to see past an opaque lavender silk object that turned out to be Helen Barthel’s derrierre. Yes, it was Mike, towering head and shoulders above the diminutive Amber Coombs in her smart little cocktail waitress uniform. As Hannah watched, Mike made his way through the crowd and arrived at Lynne’s side. He spoke to her for a moment and Hannah saw him pick up the chair with Lynne still in it, and place it so that she was sitting a few feet away from the desk. A moment later, Mike had commandeered a Japanese silk screen and he moved it in place to block Dean’s body from everyone’s view.

Hannah was so shocked by what she’d just witnessed, her mind took a strange twist. She’d been planning to add Jane’s Mini Cherry Cheesecakes to her menu at The Cookie Jar, but now that was definitely out. Anyone who had seen the dreadful incident would never be able to look at the cheesecakes without remembering Dean’s last effort to play someone else’s part and his second-to-final resting place. It was really a shame, because the cheesecakes were very good and they would have looked lovely on a silver tray with a white paper doily and…