Kendra Ballantyne was Dante’s lady friend, a lawyer and pet-sitter whom I’d gotten to know a bit because of her relationship with the HotRescues patron. She was nice, if a bit offbeat at times. She considered herself a murder magnet since she’d wound up solving a bunch of crimes over the last few years.
I’d begun to wonder if that was somehow contagious, since I, too, had gotten involved in situations where someone had died and I’d needed to find the killer to clear the primary suspect—who, in one instance, happened to be me.
“No, she has a lot of pet-sitting and lawyering going on. I’ve got to run to the airport now”—where he would undoubtedly have a private jet waiting to sweep him to his Midwest destination—“and I suspect it would be good for you to head to Northridge as soon as you can.”
“Will do,” I assured him. “I’ll drive Zoey to HotRescues and take a quick look around, then head to the film shoot. I’ll be interested to hear more about that break-in,” I finished.
“Me, too.”
He hung up, and I rose. “Come on, Zoey. Sounds as if I’ll need to channel Dante today, and you can channel me.”
I called Matt before I left home. I wasn’t sure in what capacity I’d be able to sneak him into the filming but decided to try.
He had a meeting scheduled that morning with members of SMART, the Specialized Mobile Animal Rescue Team which he supervised. It was a recent amalgamation of all the L.A. Animal Services teams he had previously headed, including the Small Animal Rescue Team, the Department Air Rescue Team and more. Once the meeting with SMART members was over, he promised to head for the filming site.
That would give me time to lay some groundwork for his appearance.
I kept my time at HotRescues brief—always difficult when I wanted to greet every one of our residents with hugs. Fortunately, our staff and usual early morning volunteers had begun to arrive, so I was certain all the animals would receive some loving even without me. I again left Zoey in the welcome area with Nina.
It was nearly nine thirty when I reached the parking lot where I’d been with Grant the night before. I had a hard time finding a spot since the cast and crew were already there, and maybe a whole bunch of extras, too, considering how crowded it was.
I found a spot on a side street where parking looked legitimate, then hurried back. A security guard stopped me before I got too close and I explained who I was. I’d worn a jacket over my regular outfit but peeled it back so the guy could see the HotRescues logo.
Mentioning Dante DeFrancisco opened yet another door.
I immediately sought out Niall Cransley. He’d met Dante after interviewing him for research a few years ago. They’d clicked, and Niall gave Dante the screenplay to read. He’d loved it, and Niall promised to keep Dante informed about his progress in getting the movie made.
When nothing happened after Niall shopped it around, Dante stepped in waving money—figuratively, of course, but that did the trick. The production of Sheba’s Story was launched.
“Hi, Lauren,” Niall called, seeing me as I approached the lot with no available spaces. Holding a cup of coffee from a shop in this center, he stood in the middle of a crowd of people holding similar cups.
Niall was taller than most of them, a beanpole of a man with narrow shoulders, a long neck, and a receding hairline. His smile was all large teeth surrounded by thin lips. He maneuvered his way out of the group and joined me. “What happened with Dante? He didn’t tell me much.”
After Niall started walking away from his crowd, it had begun to disperse. I recognized a few people from when I’d visited the set before. Most were production staff, including some involved with costume, makeup, and animal handling. The human star, Lyanne, was with them, too.
I told Niall the little that Dante had related to me. “He’ll be back soon but apparently wanted to make sure everything was handled appropriately,” I finished. “He wants me to take pictures. I assume that’s okay?” I made the last sound like a question.
“For Dante, sure. Let’s go hear how it’ll all be set up. I saw Hans heading toward that side street. He may be giving some direction by now.”
On the way, we passed several poshly furnished crates along the sidewalk just outside the coffee shop and adjoining clothing store, dry cleaner, and deli. The crates contained a number of particularly young-looking Shebas. Maybe some of the white poodles were supposed to be her siblings. I’d understood that the scenes to be filmed here were to represent when the dog was still a fairly young puppy, just running away from an abusive situation.
Taking my camera from my purse, I shot a few photos, shoving back an urge to take the dogs out for a walk. Or at least a hug. Maybe I’d get that chance later.
“I saw the dog handlers walking this bunch just a few minutes ago, in case you were worried,” Niall assured me.
I smiled up at him. “Guess you know me pretty well already, even though we were just introduced a few weeks ago.”
“Dante’s told me about you.” He lifted a stringy hand as if to erase any complaints I might be ready to make. “All good things. He’s pretty proud of how you run HotRescues.”
My smile grew even broader. That comment could make my day. Maybe my week. But not much longer than that. Especially now. I needed to spend more time at HotRescues than I was at the moment to make sure it continued to run so well.
“I’m glad we’re in sync,” was all I said.
We reached the end of the row of stores and stepped onto the sidewalk leading to the nearest street. There, I saw the people I most wanted to hang around with while I was here.
Carlie was there, which surprised me. I’d thought she was going to send one of her veterinary staff today. She was talking with Winna Darrion, chief animal handler for the film. All underlings who exercised, walked, and fed the dogs reported to her.
With them was Grant, as well as the primary dog trainer, Cowan.
As Niall and I approached, I saw director Hans Marford coming from farther down the street.
“I need to ask Hans a few things before he gets started,” Niall said. “I’ll talk to you later.” With his long legs he had no problem pulling way ahead of me toward his goal.
I edged up to Carlie as the group moved to circle Hans for instructions on how the scene would work. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
Today she was dressed more casually than yesterday, wearing slacks and a shirt with rolled-up sleeves. “The key vets I’d assigned to help here were otherwise engaged.” She didn’t sound pleased.
“Doing what?”
“One had a class already scheduled, and the others…well, you asked. Two older dogs were brought in last night with rather nasty cases of diarrhea. Been there, done that, so this time I directed the rest of my staff to administer tests, figure out the causes, and deal with it. That meant I’d be the one to come here to twiddle my thumbs and watch the filming. I assume it’ll all go well, as usual, especially with your buddy Grant observing for American Humane.”
I felt my face turning red and I looked away from her. “He is a good, dedicated animal protector,” I said formally. “I wouldn’t exactly call him a buddy, though.”
“Of course.” I tried not to react to the irony in Carlie’s voice.
“Oh, and by the way, I brought my own filming crew.” She gestured to a couple of guys with cameras who stood behind us, talking. “I figured that since I was going to be here anyway, this was more material for my Pet Fitness show.”
She had gotten prior permission to film from the studio execs in charge of Sheba’s Story. She’d had a crew there the first day we were on the set together but not after that. This filming on the streets could be more interesting for her show. Maybe she could even fill a whole episode with how this movie was being shot.
Hans began speaking, and we edged forward to listen. I took a few pictures, and Carlie’s crew undoubtedly did, too. I noticed Carlie frowning. Good thing she wasn’t on camera. I supposed she thought Hans’s des
cription might not go over well on her show, although it sounded okay to me. At least at first.
Hans first explained what needed to happen. “In this scene, Sheba, her mother, and sister and brother poodles are all taken captive by a nasty man who treats them badly and wants to sell them and make a lot of money—no matter who wants to buy them. The narration to be dubbed in will indicate in Sheba’s human voice that she sees through that and decides they’d run away. Unfortunately, their captor is out walking their mom at the time so Sheba can’t save her, at least not yet. But the rest of them climb through an open window, run out of the yard, and onto the street to get away. The bad guy sees them and gives chase, but they all escape.”
He went into more detail after that, pointing to where the cameras and dogs would be, and where the actor playing the nasty captor would start and end up.
“I get to just watch today.” That was Lyanne talking to Niall, who no doubt already knew that she wouldn’t be in any scenes to be shot that day. Both stood near me. I hadn’t noticed when she’d joined us. I’d gotten the impression that she was quite a diva. Was she here to call attention to herself despite not being on camera?
“So you’re just filming the dogs running today?” Grant asked as Hans stopped talking. “As I understand it, the cars will be dubbed in later by computer animation.” Grant had stood quietly at the front of the crowd, today wearing a navy T-shirt beneath his American Humane vest.
“Mostly, yes. But for the best effect, we have some vehicles ready to drive down the street here. Some of our best drivers will handle them.”
“Then the dogs won’t actually go into the street during the shots.”
Hans stopped and stared at him. “Yes, they will, but only for part of the scene that will show up in the final film. Like I said, some of our best drivers will handle the cars.”
“That wasn’t how this was discussed before,” Grant protested.
“It’ll be safe. I guarantee it.”
Which sounded like BS to me. Obviously it did to Grant, too.
And to Carlie, who maneuvered away from my side and to the front of the crowd, where Hans stood. “You need to listen to the American Humane representative,” she said right into the director’s face. “You know how important that ‘No Animals Were Harmed’ rating is. It’s why we’re here, and this whole film is about saving animals.”
Carlie was always concerned about animal welfare, but even so, the intensity of her reaction surprised me a little. She usually tried to reason with people—on her show, at least—before verbally attacking them.
“You’re here because that American Humane group wants a vet here, Doctor Stellan,” Hans said coldly. There was something almost menacing in his gaze, as if he really disliked Carlie—not just her attitude. “And because you want to put this on your own show to boost your ratings. But this discussion is strictly between Grant and me.”
“I don’t think so.” Niall had left Lyanne’s side to join them. He probably wouldn’t have had much clout if he’d just been the screenwriter, but what he said would have weight, thanks to his relationship with the financial backers. Me, too, in a way, but I’d stay out of it as long as others to whom Hans was more likely to pay attention were in the discussion.
“I don’t think so either.” Carlie motioned for her filming crew to get a little closer. “You’re right about why I’m here: It’s because I’m a veterinarian. And over the past few weeks, when I wasn’t here I had to try at my clinic to save the lives of at least three dogs that were hit by cars. There was nothing I could do to prevent those accidents—although I was fortunate enough to save their lives. But I’ll do all I can here to make sure you do this filming safely and appropriately.”
That explained her overreacting—maybe.
“I swear it’ll be done safely.” Hans spoke through gritted teeth, which seemed to belie his words. But he looked away from Carlie. “You can always tell me if something looks too dangerous.” He nodded toward Grant, then Niall, who both nodded back. “Now, let’s get started.”
The first few takes were done in a manner where the dogs seemed safe enough despite their excitement in running down the street and barking, with no cars following.
Matt arrived around lunchtime. L.A. Animal Services didn’t generally show up on movie sets, but I still managed to get him okayed to join us as a friend of Dante’s. They had met and seemed to get along fine, even if they weren’t buddies.
Matt is six feet tall and nice looking, with brown eyes and short, dark hair. I liked seeing him in his official uniform—khaki shirt, green slacks, and jacket, with lots of patches and badges to show he was a captain in Animal Services.
And, yes, I’d seen him in a lot less.
I introduced him to Grant and saw them size each other up but we were all on friendly terms as we observed the filming.
If I’d been asked, I would have said that Marford had just been goading Grant, Niall, and Carlie. The takes even after lunch all seemed pretty mellow. Apparently Marford was in agreement. He wasn’t allowing any animals to be harmed. No cars were filmed with the dogs. As Grant had insisted, the scariest parts of the scenes for the canines would be added later by animation.
Take after take, cute poodles dashed everywhere, apparently running away from the bad guy. I could just picture how it would all look up on a movie screen when the film was done, hear in my head how the narrator, in Sheba’s point of view, would describe what was happening. It would be exciting and poignant and great filmmaking, or at least it had that potential.
But then came the last take. It made my blood freeze. Cars were used. And those sweet little poodles seemed much too close to the rolling wheels of at least one of them.
Grant called a halt to the filming. To my surprise, Marford agreed. Or maybe he thought he’d gotten the scene the way he wanted it.
“We’ll resume here tomorrow,” he said. “There are a couple more scenes that’ll be shot on the streets here under our permit.”
“No more endangering the animals, you freak,” Carlie demanded. “That last shot—it was scary. They could have been hurt, or worse. No more of this or even if you get the seal of approval from American Humane, I’ll make sure you’re depicted on my show as the monster you are.”
“None of the animals was hurt,” Marford insisted. “My drivers were careful. Everything is fine.”
“It’s not,” Carlie said. “Don’t even think about doing that again, or you’ll be sorry.”
Her crew, no doubt, got that on camera.
Which turned out not to be a good thing.
Somebody killed Hans Marford that night.
Chapter 4
Unsurprisingly, I didn’t expect that.
I didn’t like it either. In fact, I felt pretty awful about it. Hans was dead.
It wasn’t clear at first whether he’d been murdered or the subject of a hit-and-run accident. I suspected the former, though, and so, apparently, did the cops.
Sure, he hadn’t seemed as devoted to protecting animals as I’d have hoped for a director of the kind of film that Sheba’s Story would be, but at least he hadn’t allowed the dogs to be put in danger for most of the day.
Although I’d been concerned that his last take would be a harbinger of others to come…
Maybe someone else had felt the same way. But kill him for it? That seemed much too extreme.
Yet people sometimes murdered with even less motive.
The way I learned about Hans’s demise was rather unexpected, too. Matt told me.
His affiliation with the film production was even more tenuous than mine. But he’d learned about it in his official capacity.
“One of the crime scene investigators from the LAPD called Animal Services around four A.M.,” he told me as we spoke by phone early the next morning before I left for HotRescues. We’d postponed our dinner plans the previous night.
Talking on my smartphone at this hour was becoming a habit, one I’d be glad to break. Yes
terday’s call from Dante had changed the schedule of my entire day.
So would this one from Matt. I needed to find out what had happened.
Mostly to make sure…“Are all the dogs okay?” I asked Matt, realizing how taut my body had become at the thought they might not be.
Once again I was in my kitchen, Zoey at my feet. She regarded me curiously, and I patted her head reassuringly before planting myself at the table again for this conversation, willing myself to relax.
“That was why we were called in. Far as I know the dogs are fine, apparent homicide notwithstanding. A team of our officers is on the scene, which is why I heard about it. I reported in that I’d been there yesterday observing, so I’ve been directed to go there, too.”
“I’ll see you there, then.” I had to go, for Dante’s sake as well as the animals’. “Any idea what happened to Hans?”
“Sounds as if he was struck by a car on the street where the filming occurred—and where those poodles were endangered.”
It could have been a coincidence. An accident. Or so I tried to tell myself as I headed for the Northridge filming site.
The media had picked up on what had happened, at least part of it. As I drove I listened to the news report of a death at the site of a movie shoot in Northridge, with cops on the scene. But hardly any other details were given. For now, at least, they continued to report that it was an apparent hit-and-run. And maybe it was. Someone could have hit the director and panicked, driving off rather than calling for help. The coincidence of it happening on that street where the dogs had been somewhat in peril could have been just that—a coincidence.
I’d had to talk my way onto the set yesterday when all it had been was a filming location. Would it be harder today as a crime scene? Undoubtedly.
But Matt had gotten there first, in his official capacity. Today, he was the one to vouch for me.
“This is Lauren Vancouver,” he told a uniformed officer at the edge of the cordoned-off area. “She’s involved with animal rescue and is here to confirm that the animals are being handled safely.”
Oodles of Poodles (A PET RESCUE MYSTERY) Page 3