Night Howls (9 page)

“Wow,” Jake says as he makes his way in behind me. “This is way nicer than Stacy’s. Her place was lucky to have a beat up old couch.

“She was new to the showbiz world. With about ten more movies, she could have expected something like this,” Will replies as he enters and indicates we should have a seat.

We do as instructed, but I sit on the edge of the sectional in between Jake and Walt, so I am ready to jump up and get out of here as soon as possible. We don’t have a long wait before Gene makes his way into the trailer.

“Ah, Nyx. I am happy to see you,” he says with a huge grin. “I can only hope Will’s charms have paid off and you are willing to work with us.” Eww. The way he says it makes it sound like Will got lucky. I vomit a little in my mouth thinking about that.

“Will has nothing to do with this decision,” I reply. “He told me you need a leading lady and since my guard is being blamed for your last one’s demise, I am willing to work with you for the next couple of days. I need to find out who killed her or this town is going to look like World War III hit with a vengeance.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles thinking to himself for a second. “Only two days. I think we can probably shoot all your scenes with that amount of time. It will be difficult, but even as the leading lady, there aren’t a ton of them to shoot.”

“I will need time to investigate as well. I would say you could have me for about four hours a day. As far as I am concerned, you can just pretend to be shooting the scenes with me and then in a few days bring in a new girl. That would actually be my preferred method.”

“No, no, I think this will work. Why don’t you come out and we can do some screen testing. We can see how you look with the lights on you and figure out how much work makeup is going to have to do,” he says already opening the door to hurry me along.

“There will be no makeup,” I say leaping up to follow. “I will read your little lines and move around as the script indicates, but what you are looking at is what you get.”

“You are a little pale and might wash out, but we will make do,” he says not allowing my mood to deter his.

Jake is going to owe me big time for this mess. Personal slave for a month has a nice ring to it.

“I think you are really going to enjoy this. Maybe you will decide a change in professions is in order,” Will says as he catches up with me. Why he thinks he knows me so well is beyond me. I just keep walking and try to pretend he isn’t practically breathing down my neck.

“Okay, like I said, there won’t be a ton of scenes that we need you for. Here is the script that Stacy was using. All of your parts should be marked with the pink sticky notes,” Gene says shoving a stack of papers into my hands. I am happy to see only about a dozen sticky notes. “Today we will just do a couple of walkthroughs so we can figure out your strengths and weaknesses. Then you can take the script home and study overnight. I hope you have a decent memory. The previous girl’s wasn’t that great and we were already running into problems with her.”

Memory won’t be an issue. I imagine the actual content of the script might be. “Where do you want me?” I ask ready to get this over with.

“You and Will need to move over to the couch on set. We will quickly go over the first scene you guys have together.”

Will grabs my hand and takes me over to said couch. At least it isn’t a rock, I think to myself as I take a seat. I flip open my script to the first sticky note. There are all sorts of little markings in the margins of the pages. They are in pink pen and by their stupidity, I assume they are Stacy’s doing.

They say things like “do a little lip pucker here”, “put left hand to heart and look dreamily into his eyes”, and “do NOT forget to enunciate this phrase like was practiced”. I am surprised there is actually room for a script in this mess.

I choose to ignore her helpful hints and read over the lines real quick. The writing is downright horrible, if you ask me. Maybe it had to be for the level of brainpower the person reading the lines had.

“Okay, I am ready. I say putting the script aside.” I have figured out the general idea and can fake my way through it. If they really want me to say some of those things, they are in for a rude awakening.

Will smiles and eagerly starts us off. “Okay Kim, why don’t you tell me what seems to be your problem?” he asks staring intently into my eyes. The intent I am seeing had better be a part of his acting.

“Detective Hursh, I am just not sure where to turn. I have seen this man stalking around the outside of my home three times now. I think he has been following when I leave as well. I keep seeing this blue car and I swear it is the same one every time,” I say keeping to exactly what the script had said.

“That does sound rather suspicious. Can you describe the man to me?”

“Of course, I got a really good look at him. He is just a little bit shorter than you. He has short dark hair, probably black, and these cold, black eyes. I swear he could kill people with just one look. He is always wearing a long coat and I am afraid of what he is hiding underneath it. One time, when he turned his face, I saw a strange star shaped tattoo on the left side of his neck,” I reply adlibbing as I see fit.

The original line was short and only included a vague description of him having dark hair and eyes. If a witness has really seen a person at least three times, they had better have archived a few more features than that.

“Wait a second,” Gene says interrupting the reading. “Those weren’t the lines and how did you know what the stalker looked like? You described him to a T.”

“Duh. Your lines sucked. Reading what was on that page is excessively out of character for me. If you want me here, you are going to have to live with my improvements. As far as knowing what he looks like, the creepy guy standing over there in a trench coat is a dead giveaway,” I say pointing to the guy giving me the willies. The makeup and wardrobe teams hit the mark on that one.

“I will say that the new lines made you feel a bit more rounded than what was there. If your ‘improvements’ don’t wreck the character development, I can allow them. I do want assurances that you will not read all your lines with a look in your eye like you are going to kill your costar. I didn’t ask for anything more than you to read right now, but eventually I will need you in character and to move around and change your expression. Very seldom will that expression need to indicate someone is near death,” Gene instructs.

I think that is going to take some work, but I don’t voice that opinion. “As you said, I am just reading some lines right now. I will get in character later. Should we continue?”

“No, I think I have what I need. Your paleness isn’t as bad as I thought it would be with the lights. They cast kind of an odd glow around you, but I think we can work with it.”

“Great. I will get home to study up. What time do you need me back here tomorrow?” I ask knowing he is going to state an ungodly hour that will just piss me off.

“I suspect you will be up for a while learning the script, so why don’t we say three. We can get other bits shot until you arrive.” Three? Wow. That isn’t that bad.

“We haven’t talked about wardrobe. I am going on record as saying I will kill anyone that tries to put me in a dress or skirt. If you envisioned that for your ‘Kim’ character, you better adjust your thinking fast.”

“Nothing that horrible. Our vision for Kim starts out in jeans and t-shirt and evolves slightly, but not towards the frilly.”

I am not sure if that is supposed to be reassuring. It leaves out a lot of other styles I refuse to wear, but if they appear, I will just veto them later.  “Good. I have some reading to get done, so I will see you tomorrow,” I say getting up from the couch and hurrying over to Jake, Walt, and Clyde. “Let’s get out of here. It looks like most of the people have broken up for the night, so I will get the investigation officially underway tomorrow,” I tell them under my breath.

“You sure you don’t want to hang around for a little while and maybe read some lines together?” Will asks joining us.

“Yes, I am sure. Is there a second copy of the script lying around somewhere that I can have one of my guys use to help me practice?”

“Great idea,” Gene says providing me with another copy. I didn’t even realize he was standing that close to us. “You have my card already, so if you have any questions give me a call.”

I doubt I will have any, which is good because Clyde may have decided to eat the card. I choose not to bring up that point and direct my team back to the Suburban. We have a quick stop to make before we head home and it isn’t one I am looking forward to.

Chapter 11

Wicked witch of the East

I park a few blocks away from SpellBinders. If Hilda sees me coming, she has been known to make it difficult for me to get into the store. I am not sure what it is about the witches I meet, but for some reason they tend to have stereotypically witchy names. You could probably stick a hundred of them in a room and say a name like Glenda or Hilda and at least twenty of them would look your way.

So far today, Clyde has sat up front with me. It seems to make him happy and the guards have come to a mutual agreement that none of them want to sacrifice their shoes just to be able to control the radio. They are a bunch of wimps for letting the little puppy play them like that.

I attach the mutt’s leash and maneuver him out my side of the truck. As he gets bigger, that feat is getting more difficult. I just hope he will always be able to fit in the car. If not, I am afraid I will be getting a lot more exercise. I might need to get a pickup that I can just throw him in the back, although the possibility of him jumping out would probably be too great to make that move.

“We are going to need to hustle,” I say as I take off in a fast clip. If I can get to the door quick enough, she won’t make the whole building invisible. Hilda has done that to me twice. I just sat out in front of where the store should be and waited for her to give in and bring the building back. Most days, witch isn't the word that comes to mind when I think of Hilda, but there is one that rhymes with it always on the tip of my tongue.

SpellBinders is the premiere place in Night Owl City for all things occult. There are a few other startups, but if you want high quality product, this is the place to be. I have been attempting to do my business here for the last two years. Hilda, for some reason, doesn’t like me much and tries to make the task difficult. I just cannot seem to make friends anywhere.

Within seconds, I am opening the door and I think I have beaten the witch at her games, however, when I enter, the usual landscape is not what I find. She has transformed it into a baby store. There are bassinets and cribs everywhere. Shades of pastels are burning into my eyes and I kind of want to pluck them out to make it stop. This has to be the worse trick she has tried. I need to find out who told her about my aversion to all things baby.

“Not funny, Hilda. I am asking for assistance on the guys’ behalf this time. I know you have a thing for Marcus and unless you want him to be succubus bait, you better make this go away.”

Just about any female I run into has a thing for at least one of my guards. There are some men that fall into that category, but I rarely use it against them like I do with the females.

“But Marcus isn’t even in town,” the evil witch says popping up from behind a counter. It figures that she would know exactly where Marcus was. I bet she could tell me what he was wearing. Creepy, stalker witch.

“No, but the information you give me will be passed on to him. Can you please get rid of the pastels?”

“I hear you have been discussing babies lately. I thought you might want to start picking out colors,” she replies waving her hand to take away the travesty. I really need to find whoever is broadcasting personal details about my life and put a stop to it. I haven't personally been discussing babies, it is more the crazed men in my life that have been doing that. Finding out who has loose lips goes on one of my mental lists that are always running through my head.

“There are still no babies anywhere in my future,” I assert. One of these times, someone will actually believe that.

The shop has transformed back into what I am used to seeing. The walls are lined with shelves full of bottles advertising every miracle cure known to man. A few displays in the center of the room are filled with different rocks and crystals promising the same thing. To top everything off, she has a barrel of brooms and coat trees of pointy witches’ hats. If I didn’t know of her true power, I would think this was a novelty store.

Unless you know what you are asking for, you shouldn’t even attempt to enter this store. Hilda will take you for a ride like you will never believe. I haven’t learned that from personal experience, but I have seen the aftermath once or twice. Hilda has a tendency to “accidentally” add a little something extra to your shopping bag.

The proprietor of the shop is wearing a flowing black dress and one of the pointy hats. She is portraying herself today with a slight green tint to her skin that looks right at home on the frog of a woman. She stands just a little taller than me and has long black hair and pitch black eyes, showing no whites at all. How she thinks she would attract Marcus looking like that makes me scratch my head. I am sure he isn’t into Martians.

“I have actually heard babies will be springing from your womb before you know it. The Great Spirit has foreseen it.” Another thing about Hilda you have to get used to is her babbling. I doubt half the stuff she says is true, so I choose not to listen.

“Yeah, well, your ‘Great Spirit’ can kiss my ass. Can you give me some help with a succubus?” I ask. It isn’t really a wonder why she doesn’t like me. I don’t show enough respect to the voices in her head. For some reason that offends her. At least the voices I hear from time to time have physical manifestations that I can point out to people.

“For you, no, I cannot help. You are a disrespectable, hodge podge of a creature and should be tarred and feathered for half the words that come out of your mouth,” she says projecting herself larger than she already is. The effect never does much for me. She isn't that much taller than me to begin with, a couple more inches still leaves her in the shrimp category compared to the people I live with. “If you are correct that Marcus is involved and may be in danger, we can talk.”