Lights, Camera, Bones, page 2
“He was from Memphis, and we did call his phone. Repeatedly. No one answers.”
“Where could he have gone?” I asked.
“Ana McCants, our producer,” he nodded at the beautiful but sour woman sitting next to him and listening intently to the conversation, “thinks he went back to Memphis. There was talk a girl showed up looking for him here.”
“Talk?”
Marlon shrugged. “I don’t babysit the crew. Jules is a grown man.”
“You feel certain he just left?” I asked.
“Until you began to make it sound like a federal case, I did.” Marlon’s brow was furrowed. “Maybe I should call the local law enforcement and file a report.”
“I’ll do it,” Ana said. “We should have done it first thing this morning. I don’t believe Jules just disappeared. He isn’t that kind of person, from what everyone says. He’s been on time and working hard since we got here, too. He didn’t seem like he’d flake out.”
“You said this morning that you thought he left with that woman who came looking for him.” Marlon sounded annoyed.
“I changed my mind.” Ana seemed to relax as soon as she figured out we weren’t competitors for Marlon’s affections. Maybe she was just the jealous type. When she smiled, she was radiant.
“Did you see this woman?” I asked Ana.
“No, but some of the cinematographers said a pretty young woman was asking about Jules.” She shrugged a shoulder. “It stood to reason they were involved, until you pointed out a few things. Now I’m worried.”
I looked at Tinkie, trying to get a read on what she thought. Her expression was inscrutable.
“So you’re private investigators,” Ana said, not even bothering to pretend she hadn’t been eavesdropping. “That must be interesting work.”
“We’re glad to be on vacation right now,” Tinkie said. “We’ve worked solid for nearly two years. Every time we think we have a break, someone hires us. But today, we’re officially unemployed.” Tinkie made it clear we weren’t there for business. Ana seemed to loosen up even more.
“Thanks for shaking me out of my lethargy. I’ll call the sheriff right now and make that report on Jules. Good suggestion.” She got to her feet and walked away.
For a long moment, silence stretched between the three of us.
“Ana and I were serious last year,” Marlon said, though he owed us no explanation. “I hurt her. She’s still a little prickly, but she’s a good person and she fought so hard for my movie. She found the first investors. Were it not for her, Hero at the Helm would never be made.”
“She’s beautiful,” Tinkie said, once again using her social skills to smooth us past a rough spot. “And now Sarah Booth and I should head back to our homes. I have my baby waiting, and Sarah Booth has a moonshine business to check on.”
My jaw dropped open, but Marlon ignored me. He was tantalized by Tinkie’s lie. “She’s a bootlegger?”
“I am—”
“She is,” Tinkie said, talking over my protest. “She’ll tell you all about it when you have time to listen.”
“Excellent. Maybe we could all have dinner soon.”
“Absolutely. I’d love to host a party for the crew,” Tinkie said. “Whenever you can take time. And I’d love to show your crew more of the Delta. With your family ties to Greenville, I’m sure you know all about the region but some of the crew might not.”
3
By the time we got back to Zinnia, Tinkie had sent all our photos to Cece at the newspaper. We’d also dropped a dime with her on the missing gaffer. It was likely the young man had gone back to Memphis or was with his girl, but it never hurt to be sure. Cece would gnaw on the gossip like a dog with a soup bone.
I parked at the front door of Hilltop and raced Tinkie inside. She was short and took two steps to every one of my strides, but she managed to get to Maylin before I did. She held the baby up and spun around. Maylin giggled with joy. Even Pauline, the nanny, was smiling. Seeing Tinkie with her daughter always flooded my heart with joy. Tinkie and Maylin were surely the tonic for depression, rabies, or anthrax. I just didn’t know how to bottle the cure to sell it.
“Maylin is going to get an audition for the movie,” Tinkie told Pauline.
“Wonderful.” Pauline was as big a supporter of Maylin as I was. “She’s such a special baby, I’m sure it will come through on film. What would a baby wear in 1927?” she asked. “Maybe I can whip up a costume for her.”
Maylin had a legion of people who would help her accomplish whatever goal in life she wanted. If only every child could be so lucky.
“I believe I have an old christening gown in the attic at Dahlia House,” I offered. “Maylin is the right size, I think. Anyway, you’re welcome to alter it however you feel is appropriate.”
“Thanks.” Tinkie gave me a hug. “Now I’m going to feed my child.”
“And I’m going for a horseback ride. The weather is perfect. And still no mosquitoes or yellow flies.”
“Call Coleman to ride with you,” Tinkie suggested. “If he isn’t busy, it would be good for him, too.”
“Your wish is my command.” I tipped a fake hat to her and ran to my car. On the way home I dialed Coleman and he agreed to join me. Crime was slow in Sunflower County for a change.
I had Reveler and Ms. Scrapiron groomed by the time he got home. Sweetie Pie was lounging in the sun, keeping a watchful eye on us. She didn’t want to be left behind. Pluto had more sense than to try to keep up with us. The cat never burned an unnecessary calorie. I was pleased to see Poe sitting on the fence. He pretended to ignore me, but when I walked over, he jumped on my shoulder.
“Let’s go for a ride,” I whispered to him.
He gave a throaty squawk and hopped back on the fence. When Coleman and I mounted, he took to the air. He flew circles around us as we walked down the long driveway to warm up the horses. By the time we hit the open fields, Poe was soaring and dipping and playing with us and Sweetie Pie. I couldn’t be certain, but there seemed to be a real friendship between the raven, my dog, and my cat. Only two days before I’d seen Pluto sleeping in the sun on the front porch, with Poe on a rocker guarding him.
The day was sunny and growing hot. It was only April, but the brown fields would soon be an electric green. With hot weather, the Delta would be lush with soybeans, cotton, and other crops. The vast tracts of land would be crawling with combines and tractors, plowing, planting, or spraying fertilizer. Some crops were now Roundup Ready and required herbicides. The number of cancer cases was also spiking all over the region. The fields around Dahlia House that belonged to me were free of chemicals and GMOs. Billy Watson, a local farmer who managed my land, was deeply into sustainable farming, which was one reason I leased him my land.
Coleman put Reveler into an easy canter and Ms. Scrapiron and I fell in beside him. I could smell the newly turned earth. In the brakes, where wildlife hid, birdsong filtered into the air. Poe swooped into the tree line and for a moment I worried that he might attack a smaller bird, but he only circled my head, playing with me and Coleman.
When Coleman and I neared the road on the way home, Poe settled atop a vine-covered power pole. When I was directly beneath him, he croaked, “Action.”
“Did that bird just say ‘action’?” Coleman asked.
“That’s what I heard.” We stopped the horses and looked up at him. “Lights. Camera.”
“Action!” the bird croaked again.
“Maybe he wants to direct a remake of The Crow,” Coleman said.
“Or better yet, The Birds.” I grinned. “Tinkie does remind me of Tippi Hedren. You know Ms. Hedren is a big animal activist.”
“Even after being attacked by birds?” Coleman teased me.
“She didn’t hold a grudge.” I held up my arm and Poe flew toward me, settling gently on my forearm. “Hello, Poe.”
He made a grumbling sound that might have been a salutation, but I couldn’t be sure. Coleman held up his forearm and the bird hopped over to him. Sweet relief. The bird was heavier than you’d think a bundle of feathers would be.
“We should build Poe an aviary,” Coleman said.
“Awwwwk!” Poe was having none of that.
“He’s happy in the house,” I reminded Coleman. The bird had impeccable manners. When he wanted to go outside, he flew to the door and pecked it. He preferred being free to fly and roam, but he also liked to come inside to see what we were doing. He was way more curious than Pluto.
As we untacked and groomed the horses, I gave Coleman the lowdown on the movie set. “Maylin is going to get a part, I think.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you going to audition?”
“Nope.” I had considered it, but that door was closed. “I have my own business to run. I don’t want to get distracted.”
“You know the film will be shot and the crew will leave soon enough. It might be fun.”
“I’ll do it if you do it.” I put the challenge out there.
“I never wanted to be an actress.”
“I would hope not,” I said. “I can’t visualize you in a slinky dress and heels.” I walked toward him and kissed him with passion. “Now let it go. I’m happy with my life as it is. Very happy.” We led the horses to the pasture and set them free. They took off with hooves pounding. It was a sight that gave me instant joy.
* * *
While Tinkie spent time with Maylin and Coleman went back to work, I decided to work on a few sections of the pasture fence that needed attention. It was a perfect day for farm work, and the horses followed me as I walked across the pasture. Poe flew around me, talking a mile a minute in the croaks and twitters that made up his language.
I turned to look back at Dahlia House, atop a slight rise. The sycamore trees that lined the driveway were budding out in electric green. I’d made some improvements on the house over the years. I thought of the many generations of my family who’d lived there. Being connected to the land was a long tradition.
Just as I set about hammering a staple into a fence post to secure the woven field fencing, my phone rang from my back pocket. I answered without checking the caller ID, figuring it was Tinkie or one of my other friends.
“Ms. Delaney, this is Marlon Brandon.”
I was surprised.
“The missing gaffer, Jules Valiant, didn’t go back to Memphis. And he didn’t leave with the young lady who was here. In fact, she’s standing directly in front of me and she’s worried sick. Do you think you might look into this for Trinity Studios? The insurance company is having a conniption fit.”
“Tinkie and I are taking a little vacation. I can help you find another PI to take the case.”
“I’ve heard you and Delaney Detective Agency are the best. I’ll make it worth your while. You have to understand that the film will shut down if the insurer pulls out. That would be terrible for all of us and Greenville.”
He was putting pressure in all the right places, though I was still reluctant.
“Please help me out. I’ll give Maylin a role in the movie.”
The final straw. “Sure.” I put my hammer down. “I’ll need some basic information about this missing man.”
“Right. If you could come back to the set, I’ll give you everything I know. And Ms. Williamson, the woman Jules was dating, will tell you what she knows. They were supposed to meet yesterday evening but he never made it to the restaurant. Also, expect a call from Jane Bernardo with the insurance company. She’ll have some questions for you.”
“Let me get the details on Mr. Valiant before I talk to the insurance people. How about Mrs. Richmond and I meet you tomorrow at eight? We can get the facts and explain our plan to search for Jules.” The day was drawing to a close, and it would be easier to start the search for Jules in the morning. “Just be sure you file a report with the local sheriff. That’s something you don’t want to skip.”
“Ana has already done so. In fact, the sheriff is concerned. When Ms. Williamson showed up looking for him, she made me extremely worried. I shouldn’t have assumed he flaked out and went home.”
“You haven’t had any trouble on the set, have you?” I remembered the rumors that the movie had upset some town residents.
“No, it’s been mostly quiet. No one should object to the film. It’s an action-adventure story of bravery.”
“Okay. Be sure and call any contacts you have for Jules. The more you can do to find him, the quicker Tinkie and I can get results.”
“You’ve got it.”
4
The vista of Delta sky, most often a lovely blue, was draped with gloomy gray clouds. The wind gusted and kicked up. The Roadster, so solid and heavy, snugged the road as we drove to Greenville. I pulled up directly at the movie set, which, to my shock, was crawling with workers at eight o’clock in the morning. Down by the dock, they were filming a sequence with Marlon boarding the riverboat. He wore suit pants, a white starched shirt, suspenders, and a vest. He hurled orders at a ship’s crew who raced around the paddleboat preparing for the oncoming storm. While I hated the gray days, this was a gift to the movie people. They could get a lot of preliminary flood shots now, before the rain came down. Marlon, with Ana at his side, was making the most of it.
When the scene concluded, Marlon signaled Tinkie and me down to the trailer where we could talk privately. We’d just been seated when a tap came at the door. He opened it to reveal a beautiful young woman in her mid-twenties. “This is Jennifer Williamson,” he explained.
“Can you find Jules?” she asked.
“We hope so.” I didn’t want to make any promises I couldn’t keep.
“What’s your fee?” she asked, twisting her hands nervously.
“Don’t worry about that,” Marlon told her. “Trinity Studios will cover that. The important thing is finding Jules.”
“Let’s work on the timeline,” I told them both. “Who saw Jules last? Have you asked the crew?”
“It was me,” Jennifer said. “I was sitting on the dock with him while he worked on the raft. He said another guy was coming to help him set the mast so the raft could have a sail.”
“We’re going to float down the river to Vicksburg on the raft once the movie is shot,” Marlon explained. “We’ll film a documentary about the river, the raft, and the fabulous tradition of Huck Finn. We’ll use the documentary to promote the feature film.” He was clearly excited about the prospects of a river adventure. “The Mississippi River has tickled the American imagination for decades.”
So that explained the raft. “Let’s walk down to the dock,” I suggested.
“I have to go to work. Please call me when you find something about Jules,” Jennifer said. She headed up the hill, head bent in worry.
As Tinkie, Marlon, and I sauntered down to the water, Marlon talked about the film and how the Brandon family had lost all of their downtown properties in the flood, but had rebuilt with cotton, hard work, and a toe in politics. “Everybody in Greenville knows my grandpa,” he said.
“Of course they do,” Tinkie said. “He was a U.S. senator from Mississippi for six terms. He was instrumental in getting bridge projects, agricultural help during hard years, and better schools. Senator Brandon was an old-school politician. He went to Washington to bring back help for his state, and he did. That was his primary focus, and he was good at it.”
“Yes, he was,” Marlon agreed. “He has a great love for this state.”
“Why aren’t you staying at the Brandon plantation?” Tinkie asked.
“How do you know he isn’t?” I asked her. She knew too much about Marlon. She was sounding like a stalker.
“I make it my business to know about handsome men in the Delta,” Tinkie answered tartly, and we all laughed.
“I’m flattered,” Marlon said. “I’m staying in a B and B to be closer to the set. Also, I didn’t want to drag Grandpa into this film. Folks around here are suspicious of anyone different, anyone who comes in with ideas and attitudes that aren’t … traditional. Folks have crazy ideas such as movie people are deviants. There have also been rumors that my script bends the truth too much. False, of course. My movie tells the truth.”
I knew exactly what he was talking about, and so did Tinkie.
“Do you really think people suspect you of an ulterior motive?” Tinkie pressed.
I wondered if she was looking for a reason Jules Valiant had disappeared, or simply being nosy. I hated to admit it, but I was nosy, too.
“Do you happen to know Lamar Bilbo?” he asked.
Judging by Marlon’s frown, Lamar Bilbo was not a friend. “I know who he is.” I didn’t much care for the man myself.
“Old Mississippi name, entitlement upright on two legs.” Tinkie summed it up perfectly.
Marlon grinned. “He’s expressed opposition to the movie and he’s doing his best to make an issue of it. When I was in a bar off Washington Street, I got a surly greeting from several guys who looked like bikers. They told me to get on a plane back to Hollywood before they had to hurt me.”
“You said some opposition. You didn’t say you were getting threats,” I said.
“I don’t take them seriously,” Marlon said. “Talk is cheap, and Bilbo doesn’t even have a clue what he’s talking about.”
“Most of those guys are blowhards,” Tinkie said, “but be careful. Sometimes their brawn overpowers their brains.”
“I’ve seen more guns in Greenville in the past week than I ever saw in Los Angeles,” Marlon said. “I sure don’t want to upset the locals and get them riled. I just want to shoot the film and get back to California to edit it and prepare for release.”
“I see you’re directing the project,” I said. I’d also done a little research.
“Yes, I wrote it, too. And because I’m directing, I can withhold the script from the actors until they need to see it. It keeps the twists and surprises fresh.” He pointed at Ana McCants, who was working with a wardrobe team to outfit a very beautiful young woman dressed as a flapper. “I couldn’t do any of this without Ana. She’s the executive producer on the film and she got all the financing. She’s also exceptionally good with the cast. She knows how to make them feel like they’re the most important thing in the world. Actors love that. I know because I love it.” He laughed at himself.
