Murder on the Rocks

by Shawn Reilly Simmons

  “Sorry,” Penelope said.

  “Stop apologizing,” Jeremiah said. He put one of her hands in between his larger ones and warmed it between his palms. “This man you recognized today. He was your attacker?”

  Penelope looked down at his large hands hiding her much smaller one. “No. The other man, the one with the beard, he watched us from across the street. I saw him before it happened.”

  “And why did he cause this reaction in you, do you think? The man was simply standing there.” Jeremiah switched hands, giving equal pressure to her other one.

  Penelope felt on the verge of tears. “I don’t know. Maybe because he was safe outside and he didn’t help us?”

  “So you’re afraid, or angry?” Jeremiah asked.

  Penelope bit her inner cheek to stave off a surprising urge to cry.

  “He might have just been waiting for the bus,” Penelope said quietly. “Why is this happening to me?”

  “I would say you’re experiencing shock. PTSD,” Jeremiah said confidently. “Our brains try and protect us from re-visiting trauma. You witnessed a terrible event. It’s normal to feel fear, be concerned for your safety, worry that it might happen again.”

  Something gave in Penelope’s chest, a mixture of relief and helplessness. She’d heard of PTSD, but had only associated it with soldiers returning from war. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore,” she admitted.

  “I know,” Jeremiah said. “I can help you cope.” He patted her gently on the knee, then stood up.

  “Are you a trauma expert?” Penelope asked.

  “No, I am an expert on human emotions,” Jeremiah said. “Meditation and sustained silence, gifting yourself quiet reflection time will get you through this.”

  Penelope rubbed her hand on her jeans. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how to do that.”

  “You’ll join the morning meditation circle,” Jeremiah said. “I’m going to make it mandatory for you.”

  “Mandatory?” Penelope asked, slightly alarmed.

  “Yes,” Jeremiah said definitively. He rose and took a seat in front of the monitors, then cued up that morning’s takes. Penelope watched Arlena play tennis in fast forward, looking like a cartoon character ricocheting across the screens. “All of us need you to be in one piece, physically and mentally on set. Group meditation will do wonders for you. Trust me.”

  Penelope looked at the back of his head while he gazed at the screens in front of him. She couldn’t figure out what kind of crazy he was, but she was sure she’d never met anyone quite like Jeremiah Truegood. She had to admit his quiet graceful way of talking to her for the past ten minutes had made her feel more centered. And cared for.

  “I’m going to get back out to my team,” Penelope said softly. “Thank you for talking with me.”

  Jeremiah spun around and smiled at her. “Five in the morning tomorrow, we’ll welcome the new day together. See you there.”

  “Okay,” Penelope said, a bit reluctantly.

  As she stepped down from the RV, Penelope decided there was another way to put the incident at Sonya’s behind her, to release herself from the anxiety she was feeling. She would figure out who the mystery man was that she’d seen twice in two very far apart locations, and whether or not he was involved in Sonya’s death. Penelope had a feeling justice might work just as well as mindful reflection.

  Chapter 28

  Penelope set her shoulders straight and took a few deep breaths outside Jeremiah’s RV. The air was sweet and the sun was warm. She took a moment to appreciate that she was okay and safe amongst friends up here on this mountain. She did take a quick look around to see if the blond man was lurking at the edges of the set, but as far as she could tell, he was gone.

  Inside the catering tent, Penelope scanned the crowd at the tables inside, the loud murmur of conversation and rumbling laughter comforting.

  A row of steam tables was lined up on one side of the tent, with Tama and Lewis in their white chef coats keeping an eye on the cast and crew that came through to serve themselves. Francis moved among the tables, watching diners enjoy the food, and stopping to chat every few feet.

  “A well-oiled machine,” Penelope said as she scanned the crowd. The man she was sure she’d seen at Sonya’s wasn’t inside the tent either. Arlena and Nadia were sitting together near the front, picking at the matching salads in front of them. Nadia’s phone lay face down on the table next to her bowl.

  “How are you feeling?” Arlena asked, waving Penelope over.

  “I’m fine now,” Penelope reassured her. “I’ve figured out a plan.” She nodded at Nadia’s phone. “You getting a signal up here?”

  “No,” Nadia said, rolling her eyes. “Just took some pictures of the set. Whenever I get a bar or two when we’re out and about I post a few.”

  “I feel so cut off from everything,” Penelope said. “But it’s not awful, being unplugged for a while. Now I know what those retreat people are talking about.”

  “I think it’s annoying,” Nadia said.

  “Nadia was just telling me she’s got to go check in somewhere in Burlington,” Arlena said. “She’s going to spend the whole time she’s there online, catching up with all the news.”

  “Really?” Penelope asked. “Bring us news from the outside world.” She flung one leg over the bench and straddled it, facing the two of them. “What’s happening in Burlington?”

  “Drug test,” Nadia said. “That’s the closest city with a lab.”

  “They think you’re on drugs?” Penelope asked with surprise. She took a closer look at Nadia’s face, with her perfect skin and healthy glow. “That would be hilarious if they knew you back in high school. All you thought about was running, dieting, and training.”

  “Ha, I know. Remember our big cheat days...Mallomars and black and white movies on your couch on Sunday afternoons?”

  “I remember.” Penelope laughed. “I can’t believe how long ago that seems now. We used to hang out all the time, before I went off to culinary school and you joined up with the youth tennis league.”

  “Sounds like you both knew what you wanted to do very early,” Arlena said.

  “I think we both wanted to get out of town,” Nadia said. “Penelope was the sister I never got to have back then.”

  “Same,” Penelope said. “How’s your wrist?”

  “It’s fine,” Nadia said, bending it back and forth for them. “A deep bruise, luckily.”

  “That’s a relief,” Arlena said.

  “Well, they’re not looking for street drugs, so no need to worry about me,” Nadia laughed. “We all get randomly tested for steroids, performance-enhancing stuff. Even in the off-season. There’s been a lot of scandals, so it’s the league tightening up, trying to catch us off- guard. Wherever you are in the world, you have to report in and get tested.”

  “That’s crazy,” Penelope said. “When are you going?”

  “I have to be at a lab within twenty-four hours of notification,” Nadia said, with a sardonic twist of her lips. “So I should leave shortly. But I’ll be back by morning. It’s just a couple of hours drive. I figure I may as well stay over, sleep in a quiet hotel room instead of driving back by myself at night. It’s dark out here.” She picked up a grape tomato and popped it into her mouth, shivering slightly.

  “How are you going to get there?” Penelope asked. “I haven’t seen too many car rental places in Micklesburg.”

  Nadia laughed. “Thomas is lending me one of the production SUVs.”

  “I’d find that so annoying, and disruptive,” Arlena said. “Are you sure you can’t get out of it? I can call someone, tell them you’re indispensable at the moment.”

  “No,” Nadia said. “They’re pretty strict.”

  “But what if you were in the middle of the woods somewhere, or overseas?” Arlena persisted. “Ther
e must be some kind of procedure to get you excused in certain circumstances.”

  “Nope,” Nadia said, shrugging. “The association is crystal clear on the rules, and I can’t afford to take a chance on breaking them and get banned from the game.”

  Arlena shook her head. “Well, just be careful and come back soon. I need you in my corner.

  Nadia placed a hand on Arlena’s shoulder. “I’m here for you. Promise. And I’m one hundred percent clean. I haven’t even taken those painkillers they gave me back home, although I still have my script for them. They’ll prick my arm and I’ll turn around and come right back.”

  “Be safe,” Penelope said.

  Chapter 29

  After lunch, the cast and crew gathered back at the tennis court. Penelope’s crew began to break down and clean up. They packed two sheet-pan rack holders that stood as tall as Penelope with trays of dirty dishes and glasses, then spun it around, wrapping it with a wide sheet of cling wrap to keep everything contained inside.

  “I hope Jeremiah doesn’t see all this plastic,” Tama muttered under her breath as they wrapped the second tower.

  “Well, I’ll have to draw the line there if he does,” Penelope said. “We have to get all of this back down the mountain to the house without breakage, wash it, and bring it back in one piece. It’s not like we can hold all this in our laps during the drive.”

  Lewis snickered under his breath at that. He ripped off the last of the wrap and they wheeled the carts to the pantry truck.

  “Use both dishwashers, and do whatever else you need to by hand, then get started on dinner prep. We have five hours,” Penelope said.

  “You coming?” Francis asked as they piled in the truck.

  “No,” Penelope said. “I’m going to oversee craft service, be up here in case they need anything.”

  Francis nodded out the window as they pulled away, easing the truck out of the parking lot entrance to make their descent to the house. Penelope watched the tail lights disappear, then turned back to the courts, where she could hear Arlena and her costar thwacking the tennis ball back and forth.

  Penelope discreetly scanned the crowd as she straightened a basket of local organic fruit on the table next to the water jugs. The man from the bus stop definitely wasn’t in the crowd. Penelope was convinced she hadn’t been seeing things, that her mind hadn’t put him there to play tricks on her, even though his beard was gone. After a few minutes, Penelope quietly walked away from the table, stepping gingerly, not wanting to ruin two takes in one day. She quickened her pace as she got to the parking area and quickly stepped inside the main production trailer.

  “Hello?” she called to the empty mobile office.

  Penelope went to a desk against the wall and sat down, sliding open the bottom drawer and pulling out a blank activity and time sheet report. She set it on top of the desk, then eased a metal inbox basket onto her lap and began leafing through the papers inside. She found what she was looking for under a set of completed time cards. Bound together with a black clip was a stack of Extra Release Forms, one for each player that was sitting in the bleachers today, providing background faces for the tennis match.

  Penelope undid the clip and began leafing through, glancing at the scrawled names and addresses. After looking through the first half, she paused and sat back in the chair.

  “What am I looking for?” she asked herself quietly. “Guy from the bus stop?” She shook her head and began going through them again, slower this time, studying the handwriting as well as the names. She looked for any incomplete forms, maybe one with the address left blank.

  When she got to the end Penelope began at the top again, sorting them into two piles, one with male and the other with female names. She figured she was eliminating maybe half of the options at least. When she finished sorting, she went through the men’s pile again, reading each name carefully. No one had listed New Jersey as their state, but there were a handful from other ones outside of Vermont: Michigan, Connecticut, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island. The farthest away was a man from Leeds in the United Kingdom, which stood out to her. But in Penelope’s experience, tourists would often join a movie for a day as an extra, to have a unique experience while traveling. She quickly leafed through the stack of female names and found a matching address and last name, confirming a couple was in town together, probably excited to be behind the scenes of a real American movie.

  Penelope re-clipped the forms and sat back in the chair, bouncing the back of it slightly as she thought. Her eyes fell on the satellite phone on the desk and she picked it up, dialing Joey’s number from memory.

  When he didn’t pick up, she left him a message, telling him about the man she’d seen in the crowd from the bus stop. She ended with, “I don’t know what it even means. I just think it’s too much of a coincidence. I hope he’s not a stalker, or maybe worse, involved with those boys at Sonya’s. Okay, I’ll call you later. Love you.”

  The door to the office opened, and Thomas stepped inside. His face was neutral but switched to surprise, or slight irritation, when he saw her sitting at the desk, having just hung up the phone. “What are you doing in here?”

  Penelope picked up the blank time sheet and showed him. “Just logging our hours.”

  “A little early for that. You still have dinner to go.” Thomas put his hands on his belt and shrugged.

  “Never hurts to get paperwork out of the way,” Penelope said, standing up. “I want to keep it with me so I don’t have to hunt for it at the end of the night.”

  Thomas’s face relaxed. “That makes sense. You know we’re doing dinner up here, to save trekking all the extras down to the house.”

  “That’s what the team is getting ready for,” Penelope agreed. She brushed past him and left the trailer with him staring behind her.

  Chapter 30

  That night, Penelope and her crew washed dishes together in the main kitchen. They played the radio and moved to the music, even Tama, who smiled and rolled her eyes as Francis closed his and sang a few high notes of a popular song to her.

  “Having a party in here?” Jeremiah asked, smiling from the doorway.

  “Is it too loud?” Penelope asked. She reached for the radio on the counter.

  “Of course not,” Jeremiah said. “Glad to see you enjoying yourselves.” He slipped back out of the door and was gone.

  When they were done, Penelope went into the dining room to be sure the big table was cleared down for the day. A young man sat with a large sketch pad at the head of the long oak table, scribbling with an ink pen in a series of boxes.

  Penelope watched him for a second. “Excuse me.”

  The artist paused and glanced at Penelope, his black pen hovering over the pad.

  “What are you working on?” Penelope asked.

  “Storyboarding tomorrow’s shoot,” he said. He splayed his fingers as if that should be obvious.

  “I’ve only seen that done on computers for my last few jobs,” Penelope said.

  “That’s one way to do it. Or you can be more connected with your art, like this,” he said, a slight hint of exasperation in his voice.

  “Can you do me a favor?” Penelope asked.

  He looked at her curiously. “Maybe. What is it?”

  “If I describe someone to you, could you do a sketch of a face?” Penelope asked hopefully.

  The young man grinned at her. “Let me guess. You want a picture of Brad Pitt to hang in the kitchen.”

  Penelope laughed. “No.”

  “Not Jeremiah,” the young man teased.

  “Stop it.” Penelope said, looking nervously over her shoulder for the lurking director.

  “Say I do this for you. What’s in it for me?” the young man asked her playfully.

  “Tell you what. We’ll have the crew make your favorite dessert, whatever you like,” Penelope sa
id.

  “Deal,” he said, turning over a fresh sheet on his pad. “Peach cobbler. With vanilla ice cream.”

  “You got it.” Penelope took the seat next to him and began describing the man from the bus stop. With and without his long beard.

  Chapter 31

  The next morning Penelope sat on a mat on the dewy lawn next to Tama, shivering slightly and humming along with the circle of people who had gathered for meditation time with Jeremiah. Penelope had finally gotten a good night’s sleep, her first since arriving in Vermont. She felt like she needed one or two more to feel completely back to normal, but she wasn’t complaining about the good start she’d gotten.

  Penelope opened her eyes halfway, and snuck a peek at the people around her. Tama’s face was serene happiness, as were many of the cast and crew around her. Penelope smelled the wet grass and the pleasant mustiness of the lakeshore and she had to admit, they did bring a feeling of calmness. The drone of the beehives was gone, this not being the active time of day. Penelope thought this was the quietest the property had been since the moment they’d arrived. Then she wondered if she could make ice cream out of local honey.

  “And now we welcome the sun, and go forth onto a productive and creative day,” Jeremiah rumbled after a few more minutes of quiet meditation. Penelope opened her eyes again and saw orange streaks of the sunrise in the purple morning sky. Several people in the group stood up and hugged each other quickly before setting off to their rooms to get ready for the day.

  Penelope started to go back to the boat house, then noticed that Tama had gone the other direction. She looked back and saw her talking with Jeremiah. They were laughing about something, his large hand on her bony shoulder.

  “Tama, you coming?” Penelope called.

  Tama waved. “Be along in a minute.”

  Penelope hesitated, then turned to go. She took one last glance at the two of them over her shoulder, standing together in the middle of the large lawn, still talking closely, his head bent down to hers.