Murder on the Rocks

by Shawn Reilly Simmons

  “Fun,” Arlena said.

  “How did the rest of this morning go?” Penelope asked after she’d rooted around in the pantry a few minutes. “You feeling more confident with the tennis now?”

  Arlena chewed a red grape. The heavy makeup moved with her skin as her mouth moved, which impressed Penelope even further. “I’m supposed to practice yoga with Nadia, according to Jeremiah. So I can loosen up, become freer in my movements.”

  “That doesn’t sound awful,” Penelope said. “You like yoga, right?”

  “Not really,” Arlena admitted. “I always feel like I’m going to fall asleep.”

  “Well, maybe Nadia can help improve that. I think it’s hard, not sleep inducing. But relaxing too,” Penelope said, shrugging. She pulled out the chickens and unwrapped them on the counter. “How was lunch? My guys do a good job?”

  “I think so,” Arlena said quietly. “I’m not sure Jeremiah was happy with all the plastic plates. He said something to Francis, I think.”

  Penelope sighed and looked out at the boat house. She could see the three of them lounging on the deck, taking their break before dinner prep.

  “I understand what he’s going for,” Penelope said. “We’ve just never had to work this way.”

  “You should be working like this on every set.” Jeremiah’s voice came from the dining room doorway.

  Penelope turned, her cheeks brightening. She quickly flipped back through everything they’d said, relieved she hadn’t been caught complaining. Jeremiah moved like a cat. She hadn’t heard any footsteps or floorboards creaking in the old house before he magically appeared in the kitchen.

  “Hollywood is one of our country’s biggest polluters. Landscapes destroyed in the name of making movies, not to mention the waste a mass of people create on a daily basis. We’re not going to contribute to that, in as many ways as we can manage,” Jeremiah continued. He walked to the counter and gazed at the chickens Penelope had begun to unwrap. “These chickens came from less than five miles away, dropped off by a friend of the family as a welcome home gift. Wholesome, organic, and delivered in the spirit of community and love. There won’t be a better tasting chicken than that tonight.”

  Penelope studied the smaller than average chickens and admitted they had smooth, clear skin, and a healthy color to them. “They are high quality,” she said.

  “I think you’re right about trying to save the planet, Jeremiah,” Arlena said. “We should all, every one of us, work on reducing our carbon footprint.”

  Jeremiah walked to her and took her chin gently in two of his fingers, tilting her face up toward him. For a large man, his movements were elegant, his touch gentle through thick rough fingers. “The makeup team has done a good job,” he murmured gazing at her face.

  Arlena returned his eye contact, staring silently for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time.

  Penelope cleared her throat. “I agree also,” she said, turning back to the chickens. “The team and I will work to adjust our methods, switch up the way we’ve always done things.”

  “A bad habit is the best kind to break,” Jeremiah murmured. He released Arlena’s chin and turned to Penelope. “I heard you say something about grilling.”

  Penelope nodded. “Does that sound like a good idea? It’s supposed to be a beautiful evening.”

  “Yes,” Jeremiah said. “We use wood, none of those VOCs are coming from our place through charcoal. I’ll show you where everything is.”

  “VOCs?” Arlena asked.

  “Volatile Organic Compounds,” Jeremiah said, shaking his head. “Nasty elements that mess up the environment, and cause cancer in humans. Why would people overwhelmingly use charcoal knowing full well it might kill them?”

  Penelope assumed the question was rhetorical and didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure VOCs were common knowledge either.

  Without another word, Jeremiah slipped back through to the dining room, his ponytail swinging behind him.

  Chapter 25

  The next morning, Penelope met first thing with Jeremiah and Thomas. The first day with the full crew on location had arrived and everyone was anxious to get principal filming underway.

  “A tent guy has come from Burlington and is installing a large canopy up at the courts, and we’ll have one out here on the lawn. Those are the main dining areas, depending on where we have the most people each day. Some days we’ll use both.”

  Penelope scribbled a few notes on the pad in her lap as the brothers took turns speaking.

  “You know the trip up to the courts is about fifteen, twenty minutes from here,” Thomas said.

  “Yes,” Penelope said. She paused “You guys built the tennis park?”

  “We did,” Jeremiah said with pride. “Our gift to the town when we’re through, a brand-new recreation area. I told you, Penelope, we recycle. In all things.”

  “It makes no sense to disrupt the woods, insert ourselves into Mother Nature for a temporary set, or a bunch of throw-away buildings,” Thomas agreed. “I can’t stand what some companies have done, ripping up locations and then leaving the scars of their film behind for the local people to deal with.”

  Penelope nodded with understanding. “I think that’s wonderful.” She paused a moment to review her notes. “So we’ll be going back and forth a lot, especially with transporting all the dishes coming back to wash...it will be a bit of a math problem to keep both places running at once. Does that make an environmental impact?”

  The brothers looked at each other.

  “You’ll be using gas and emitting carbon on the drives. But throwing away thousands of plastic plates and bottles is far worse. And the water consumption...we had a water recycler installed in the main house, that filters and re-uses all the gray water,” Jeremiah said.

  “That was a good question,” Thomas added. “We appreciate you thinking about your actions and asking us when you’re not sure.”

  “Okay, then.” Penelope stood up and turned to leave.

  Just as she pulled the door open a production assistant stuck his head in, headphones dangling around his neck, and wires draping down his shoulders.

  “What’s up?” Thomas asked him.

  Penelope got up to leave the small office and allow the PA in.

  “Oh, and Penelope,” Jeremiah called after her. “It’s a big crowd today. Remember, your quest begins now.”

  Penelope smiled uneasily and stepped out into the hallway. “Quest?” she mumbled under her breath. She looked at her jotted notes and her head began to spin as she thought about how to get food up and down the mountain, keep everything environmentally friendly, and make sure everyone was taken care of.

  Returning to the boat house, Penelope found her crew sitting around the small kitchen table, mugs of coffee in front of them. They fell silent as she entered the room. Penelope was happy to see they were all up and ready and wearing their chef coats, her company logo stitched on their chests. She pulled her own coat on and sat down with them.

  “Day one,” she said, eyeing them all. “We ready?”

  A resounding yes filled the air and cool relief flowed over Penelope. She knew she could count on this group of young people, no matter what obstacles faced them. Her job was to make sure the road was as smooth as it could be for them.

  Chapter 26

  A large crowd had gathered around the tennis courts, and production vehicles filled the parking area. Penelope recognized a few of the crew from jobs she had been on before, a couple of the Teamsters stopped by her table as she was setting up to say hello.

  They had decided that Lewis and Francis would be their home base crew, and run food up from the main kitchen. They had a few hours to get ready for lunch, so Tama and Penelope would work in the tent on site on the salads and side items, all of which they could manage out of their kitchen truck. Penelope ran through the serv
ices in her head, and felt like it could all actually work.

  When they were well underway with prep, Penelope walked to the courts, where the crew was setting up shots, and Nadia and Arlena were practicing playing, lobbing the ball back and forth over the net. Arlena appeared more confident than she had the day before, but her movements were still a bit wooden compared to Nadia’s. Penelope crossed her fingers together behind her back and made a wish for Arlena to have a good day on set.

  About one hundred extras filled the bleacher seats on either side of the court. Some of them watched the action on the court, shielding the glare with their hands. Others talked to each other in low tones, and a few lounged with their eyes closed, waiting to be called into action.

  “We’re good to go in ten,” Jeremiah boomed from the director’s chair on the sidelines of the court.

  Arlena propped her racket on the ground as the makeup team approached her, brushes and makeup pallets in hand. The hem of her white pleated skirt hung just above her knees, and she wore a white sleeveless cardigan on top. Her hair was pinned in curls under a vintage sun visor and she wore dark red lipstick. Penelope was amazed at the transformation from Arlena’s modern everyday look to something out of a history book.

  Arlena’s costar emerged from a nearby tent and sauntered onto the court, passing Nadia as she made her way to Thomas on the sidelines where they conferred closely, throwing glances at Arlena.

  The man playing Phil Neer, the famous tennis player, looked like he’d stepped out of the same history book as Arlena. Dressed in crisp white tennis pants and shirt, his blonde hair was parted dramatically and slicked to his head. He twirled an old-fashioned racket in his hand, then bounced the handle lightly on his palm.

  The makeup team finished with Arlena and she approached the net, sticking out her hand and saying hello to the young actor. Penelope had seen the call sheets for the week and knew he was only around for a day or two, his main role to shoot this one moment in Helen Wills’ life. This movie was Arlena’s.

  Jeremiah rose from his chair and approached the spectators. “Two minutes, please,” he said. “And it’s probably obvious, but I will remind you. This is a period movie that takes place well before cell phones and tablets were invented. Please do not have one show up on my tapes.”

  A murmur of laughter floated through the crowd.

  “Also, please,” Jeremiah continued, “we have a long day ahead. Books are allowed between takes, but none published since 1935 can show up on screen. You’ll get breaks, but if anyone has to leave for any reason, try to do it in between takes. And let someone on the crew know, so we can fill your seat and shoot around you to maintain continuity.”

  The crowd murmured, only a few of them looking apprehensive to continue. Nevan hovered near Jeremiah, surveying the crowd, murmuring a few times to the continuity supervisor who jotted notes on a legal pad. Penelope’s eyes swept the bleachers and she counted roughly how many were in each section.

  “Okay, calling action in one minute,” Jeremiah said, returning to his chair. Crew members closed in around him and the four camera men swung their lenses toward the court.

  Penelope caught Arlena’s eye and she smiled, giving her a thumbs up from the sideline before retreating behind the nearest camera. Arlena returned a nervous smile and shrugged slightly, then steeled herself and turned toward the net.

  “And, action!” Jeremiah called.

  Arlena and her costar exchanged a few lines at the net, and Jeremiah had them redo the scene several times with interruptions and suggestions in between. Penelope sighed and retreated to the tent with Tama, calculating as Jeremiah promised it would be a long day. Some directors got what they wanted in one or two takes, but some, like him, had the actors run through lines almost twenty times. Penelope assumed it was so they’d have their choice, but it could be tedious for everyone involved. After several attempts, the actors took their positions and began playing tennis.

  Nadia and Thomas sat at the other edge of the court, watching Arlena closely. Penelope could see Nadia gripping the arm of her chair, her knuckles white. She seemed to jerk each time Arlena returned a volley.

  Penelope stood next to the table that held three large water dispensers with lemon, orange, and cucumber slices floating in them, arranging the glasses Jeremiah wanted them to use, and reuse, on the tablecloth. She assumed he would call a break shortly, and wanted to be ready for the rush of a hot and thirsty crowd. She looked again at the spectators, sweeping her eyes across, when suddenly she froze.

  A man appeared to be staring straight ahead, not swiveling his head to follow the ball like the others around him. Penelope’s first thought was that Jeremiah would call cut, because he didn’t seem to be engaged in the action like the other extras around him. She shaded her eyes and took a closer look at him. He was blond and clean-shaven, with a wine-colored stain on his bottom lip.

  Suddenly, Penelope’s knees went weak and she reached for the corner of the table. The edges of her vision became fuzzy and gray as the table began to pitch forward. Several of the glasses slipped from the top and shattered on the asphalt below.

  “Chef,” Tama said urgently. She stood in front of Penelope and grabbed her by the forearms, steadying her.

  A bitter taste filled Penelope’s mouth, and her breath shortened. She panicked, worrying that she was having another episode like she did at Nate’s store. Penelope’s head rolled forward and she closed her eyes, trying to push away the sudden fear that had overtaken her.

  “Chef!” Tama shouted, attempting to break through. Penelope shook her head, trying to focus. The water inside the dispensers slopped back and forth, and Penelope focused on the noise, finding the sounds of water soothing.

  “Cut,” Jeremiah yelled, then looked over at them. “Quiet on the set!” he shouted.

  Penelope looked over Tama’s shoulder back at the faces in the crowd, many of whom were now staring at her. But the man she had seen was gone.

  Jeremiah came over to them, the muscles in his neck strained. “What’s going on over here?”

  Tama released Penelope’s arms and stood beside her, a protective palm in the center of her back.

  “I think I saw someone I recognized,” Penelope said.

  “What’s she talking about?” Jeremiah asked Tama, who didn’t respond, still looking with concern at Penelope.

  “Pen,” Arlena said, suddenly by her side. “You okay?”

  “I saw the man from that day,” Penelope said, her voice sounding small and tiny in her ears. “I saw the man from the bus stop at Sonya’s. Why is he here?”

  Chapter 27

  Francis and Lewis got to the location shortly afterwards, and Thomas called lunch. Tama explained to the guys what had happened with Penelope and told them for the first time what had happened at Nate’s store, with Penelope sitting nearby and listening.

  “Penelope, a word please?” Jeremiah said, poking his head into the dining tent.

  Penelope followed him outside then climbed into the mid-sized RV he and Thomas were using as a production office. It had been converted into a mobile screening room, with a bank of monitors in the back and a small desk area toward the front.

  “Jeremiah, I am so sorry about before,” Penelope said. “The first rule of being on a crew is to not interfere with filming.”

  Jeremiah sat Penelope down in a chair, and pulled one in front of her, sitting directly across. He put his hands out, palms up, and motioned for Penelope to lay her hands on top of his. Penelope hesitated, then followed his lead.

  “What’s troubling you?” Jeremiah asked quietly. He crooked his thumbs and rubbed the edges of her hands gently. Penelope’s first reaction was to pull away, but she resisted the urge.

  “I’m really sorry,” Penelope said, looking into his eyes.

  “You’ve already apologized. I want to hear what the problem is,” Jeremiah said
soothingly. The pressure increased from his thumbs, and Penelope was oddly comforted.

  Penelope sighed. “I witnessed an incident,” she began. “A violent attack, a few days ago.”

  Jeremiah muttered “Go ahead” quietly.

  “I don’t know if I’m having flashbacks to it, or what. But this is the second time...things keep bringing me back to that moment, that terrifying moment,” Penelope said.

  “Shh,” Jeremiah murmured. “That’s totally normal. I wish you would have told me.”

  “It didn’t seem relevant,” Penelope shrugged. “It was back in Jersey, and I’ve never had an experience like the ones I’ve been having before. I didn’t know I’d be this way.”

  “What way?” Jeremiah asked

  “I don’t know,” Penelope admitted. “Scared. But not really. I just go blank, and I lose control.”

  Jeremiah stayed quiet, and continued to massage her hands.

  “I think I saw a man in the crowd on set today that I also saw during the attack I was involved in. He shaved his beard but I recognized him.”

  Jeremiah looked at her with a flicker of doubt, then relaxed his expression back to understanding.

  “This incident you describe,” Jeremiah said. “Were you hurt? Physically?”

  “No.” Penelope sighed. “We got away.”

  Jeremiah nodded. “And where are the people who did this terrible thing?”

  “They haven’t been caught yet,” Penelope admitted. “There was another robbery too, maybe they’re still out there, hurting people.” She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. “We were having brunch at a place we always go, enjoying a beautiful morning, and this guy came in and attacked us—”

  “Shh,” Jeremiah soothed. Penelope had started talking faster and louder. His closeness was beginning to unnerve her, and she fought the urge to pull away from him.