Performing Murder

Chapter 1

Orney, Iowa — Sunday Morning, June 21, Present Day

A dead body is an unwelcome discovery during the heat of lovemaking. Hank Brewster learned this the hard way.

He stood in the grass behind the large, sprawling clubhouse, near the swimming pool. He and Holly Hanover, a former high school cheerleader, stood an arm’s length apart, catching their breath after scaling the country club’s fence and scurrying across the practice greens to the pool. They were illuminated only by the glow from landscape lighting at the edge of the pool deck and a sliver of moon above.

Hank had wanted Holly since they’d been sophomores at Southern Quincy High School. As a member of the basketball team, he had enjoyed an up-close view of the pixie-like blonde doing flips and splits in her miniskirt and tight sweater in the scarlet-and-black school colors. The fact he had spent his time at games watching Holly instead of his teammates probably explained why Hank had never made it off the bench to the first string. Sadly, the interest had not been mutual. Holly had ignored his efforts to talk with her, thwarting any thoughts of ever asking her out.

A girl as beautiful and smart as Holly was strictly a starter’s dating prospect. And even when she had been dating the captain of the team, Holly had earned a reputation for being uncompromising—fun, but unwilling to consider anything beyond kissing.

Now here she was, home for the summer from the University of St. Thomas in Minnesota, apparently excited to be alone with him in near-darkness, and ready to explore more than the shimmering waters of a swimming pool. Or was she? Hank found himself suddenly uncertain, afraid he had misread the signals. But hadn’t she seemed genuinely happy to bump into him while waiting in line for ice cream at the local Dairy Queen? Hadn’t she said she liked his new look, with longer hair and three days of stubble on his face? Hadn’t she suggested they leave her car in the parking lot and ride together in his truck? Hadn’t it been her idea to share drinks at the Iron Range Tap until almost 1 a.m.? More to the point, hadn’t she whispered in his ear, proposing he bring her here?

Now Hank was frozen in place, staring at the goddess who had been unattainable for so long. He ached to make a move but was terrified he would misstep and spoil the moment. He nearly squeaked when Holly looked him in the eyes and simply nodded.

Hank pulled off his SlipKnot T-shirt, letting it fall to the wet grass. He watched impatiently, and with no small amount of amazement, as Holly maneuvered the straps of her white sun dress off of her shoulders and let it slide to the ground. She stepped out of the bundle of material around her ankles and walked slowly toward him, a mischievous grin on her face. The grin disappeared as she reached him, pulled him tight against her, and began kissing his neck.

Hank slid his hands down her bare back and leaned in to kiss her. Lips parted and tongues entwined. God in Heaven, this is really gonna happen, Hank thought as the kiss continued. He felt her hands exploring the lump behind the zipper of his cargo shorts. Clearly Holly Hanover had learned more in college than just quadratic equations and regression analysis.

He broke the kiss long enough to take another look around and make sure no one was watching. Satisfied they were alone, Hank slid his hands further down Holly’s back and urged her panties downward. She slipped out of them easily, then unzipped his shorts and pushed them to the ground in a single motion. She then took his hand and pulled him to the edge of the pool. Hank would have preferred the soft grass and a more traditional first time, but he certainly wasn’t going to argue with the naked blonde urging him into the water. She dove in first, with Hank only seconds behind. They swam across the deep end to the other side, where Holly turned and faced him, her face flush with exertion, or excitement, or both. As Hank pulled her close, she locked her legs around him and found his lips again.

Suddenly, effortlessly, they were making love, she with her back against the concrete edge of the pool, and he standing on his toes on a narrow underwater ledge. It was the opposite of romance and tenderness, as Hank tried to fulfill seven years of pent-up desire in one explosive session of raw passion.

Holly did indeed like his shoulder-length hair. He fleetingly wondered whether this encounter might have happened sooner had he looked more rebellious in high school, rather than like a close-cropped, all-American boy. In any case, he liked that she liked it. One of Holly’s hands gripped his neck tightly, maintaining her ideal position, while the fingers of her other hand continually combed through his locks. The sensation of her fingers on his scalp was wonderful, but still placed a distant second to the other pleasures he was enjoying. When her fingers left his hair, he noticed, but just barely. Suddenly, she seemed to flounder and slip to one side. As Hank reached to steady her, he looked over his shoulder and saw her gripping his hair as it floated beside them in the pool. Floated beside…? But… no… that can’t be, Hank thought. What the hell?

He sensed… No, feared… what he was seeing. To his shame, he didn’t want to stop. He desperately wanted to finish before…

Holly screamed in terror, splitting the relative quiet of the night and numbing Hank’s left ear. She flailed wildly, desperately trying to climb up his torso and out of the pool, but hindered by the hair in which her hand was now tangled—the hair of a body floating face-down in the Orney Country Club swimming pool.

Chapter 2

Orney, Iowa — Sunday, June 14, Seven Days Earlier

Orney Mayor Tommy Bowman paced nervously in front of the Sapphire Skies Flight Service counter. The guests of honor were late, and everyone was waiting. In this case, the term everyone was not much of an exaggeration. The entire city council, the presidents of three international corporations based in Iowa, two state senators, and the governor were joined by nearly a thousand other people in the high school gymnasium, waiting to celebrate the arrival of the director and primary cast members of a movie to be filmed in Orney. Murder Beyond Them was a psychological thriller and best-selling novel. It would soon be Hollywood’s latest attempt to make a major success without featuring superheroes. The twin-engine Gulfstream carrying the cast from Los Angeles to Orney was provided by one of the Iowa corporations, a finance and insurance giant housed in one of the tallest skyscrapers in Des Moines.

"Where the hell are they?" the mayor barked at the city manager and two other staffers. Neither expecting nor receiving a reply, he resumed his pacing.

Charles Harrington sat off to the side on one of the vinyl couches near the window, suppressing a smile. He shared the mayor’s anxiety, but he was better equipped to deal with it. Harrington was the author of the novel on which the movie was based, as well as its screenplay. He had decades of experience working with Hollywood and knew that the primary activity within the motion picture industry was waiting. Despite this, he had to acknowledge he was anxious for the plane’s arrival, not because it was late, but because the director on board was Ramesh Bhatt.

Bhatt and Harrington had been close friends when they’d worked together in Europe many years ago. In fact, Charles had given Ramesh his first job in movies. Both men had been young and single then.

At age 26, Charles already had achieved success as a novelist and screenwriter. He had been on the set of his fourth movie, filming on location in Rome, when Ramesh had approached him. An immigrant from India and a recent graduate of the Paris Film Institute, Ramesh had expressed a willingness to do any kind of job that would get him in the door. Charles had liked Ramesh immediately and had convinced the director to put him to work as a continuity supervisor, one of the people responsible for ensuring consistency in the flow of the story. In other words, if the lead actor’s weapon had changed inexplicably from a revolver to an automatic during a lunch break, Ramesh would have found himself back on the street.

Charles and Ramesh had been inseparable for months during the making of that movie, called Three Nights on Vesuvius, and had been close friends for a long time after. Sadly, as often happens when separated by thirty years and an ocean, the two friends drifted apart. Charles settled in Chicago with his wife, Carlotta, and continued a successful career as an author and screenwriter, later moving to Iowa to teach. Ramesh lived in Europe while working his way up the ladder in cinema, and later moved to Hollywood, where he earned a reputation as a can’t fail director of dramas and action films.

Charles had been thrilled when Ramesh had agreed to direct Murder Beyond Them, the latest screenplay by C.A. Harker, Harrington’s pen name. Charles was even happier the director had accepted his recommendation to film it on location in Iowa. He couldn’t wait to see his old friend again. I should offer to take over the mayor’s pacing duties, Charles thought, allowing a smile to sneak its way onto his face.

Seated to the right of Charles was his wife, Carlotta, known as Carla to her family and friends in the U.S. He had met her in Italy thirty-two years ago while making that same drama, set on the slopes of Italy’s most famous mountain. A native Italian, Carlotta had black hair with hints of gray at the temples and olive skin. She had intelligence, grace, and a passionate nature that made her easy to love. Charles had known she was the one almost from the first time he’d met her. Likewise, she had fallen hard for the dashing young American writer. They had married in Italy after the filming had wrapped.

Ramesh had been best man at the wedding. His date that night, an American model and actress named Harriet Danziker, had become his wife a few months later.

Sadly, after more than thirty years of marriage, Harriet had died of pancreatic cancer. Charles had called Ramesh to express his sympathies, but the call had been awkward and uncomfortable between the two men who had been living separate lives for so long. Charles hoped Ramesh’s visit to Orney would give him the chance to eliminate the awkwardness and put their friendship back on solid ground.

Sharing the portion of the couch to Charles’s left was his only son, Tony, a writer for the Orney Town Crier, one of the smallest daily newspapers in the Midwest. Tony had inherited his father’s boyish grin and writing talent, but had fallen a couple of inches short of Charles’s six feet in height. Tony’s other characteristics, his dark hair and eyes, the touch of cinnamon in his skin tone, and his passionate nature, came from his mother.

In some ways, Tony was responsible for the airplane full of Hollywood bigwigs who were headed for Orney. When Charles had told his son about the successful sale of another screenplay, Tony had been the first to suggest the on-location shoots be done in Orney. He had pointed out that the story was set in a small, rural city. As a town of 15,000 in northwest Iowa, Orney qualified. As a county seat with a courthouse square, a nearby river valley, and beautiful homes on wide, tree-lined streets, Orney was an idyllic setting. Tony had pressed his dad to do all he could to bring the film project here.

Tony’s interest was multi-faceted. First and foremost, he loved Orney and hoped his town would benefit from the financial and perceptual lifts of having the movie based there. Secondly, as a news reporter, he wanted the chance to cover the multiple stories that would emerge during the six to eight weeks of filming a movie involving some of the industry’s biggest stars. Lastly, at least two of the lead actresses were gorgeous and single. Tony wasn’t foolish enough to think he had any chance at all with them. In fact, he was pretty certain he had no interest in having a relationship with a film star, but that didn’t stop him from relishing the thought of meeting and interacting with them as he covered the movie’s progress. He, too, was anxious for the Gulfstream to land, if only to see up close the adorable dimples and deep blue eyes that had helped to make Darcy Gillson a star, or to witness the latest outrageous behavior of her co-star, Charlotte Andresson.

The fourth member of the Harrington family was Charles and Carlotta’s daughter, Rita. She was absent from the airport in Iowa. As a recent graduate of the University of Chicago’s Master’s Program in Musical Performance, Rita was busy preparing for and attending auditions. Her dream was to secure a cello seat with a major orchestra.

By the time the announcement came of the Gulfstream’s landing, the mayor was nearly apoplectic. The Harringtons were less manic, but were certainly tired, bored, and sore from the unyielding vinyl on the couch. Regardless of disposition, they all moved in unison to the doors separating the flight service waiting room from the tarmac. The private jet taxied up next to the building. The door opened and the stairs unfolded before the engine whine had even subsided.

Suddenly, there they were. Director Ramesh Bhatt, lead actresses Gillson and Andresson, lead actor Kurt Rowsmith, and a mix of additional performers and support staff descended the stairs. Bhatt was first in line, carrying a small leather satchel and moving quickly through the airport’s sliding glass doors. He spotted Charles immediately but was headed off by the mayor.

Mr. Bhatt, welcome to Orney! the mayor said, beaming. It’s an honor and a pleasure to welcome you here. I’m Mayor Thomas Bowman, but please call me Tommy. Everybody does. I want you to know our entire city stands ready to serve you. While you’re here, anything you need, you just ask. I’m your man. Anything at all, we’ll make it happen.

Bhatt was polite by nature, but clearly was eager to move on. He shook the mayor’s hand, thanked him, and said, Mr. Mayor, I’d like you to meet my assistant, Witt Silverstein. Whenever I need something, Witt usually will be the person coming to you or whomever with the request. Witt, why don’t you and the mayor take a minute to exchange contact information?

The mayor’s smile morphed from warm to forced, but he turned to Witt and repeated his spiel. Bhatt used the opportunity to push past them and hurry up to the Harringtons.

Charles, Carlotta, what a joy it is to see you again. He embraced and kissed Carlotta and then turned to Charles. He started to speak, stopped, then threw his arms around Charles’s much larger frame. After only a moment, Charles, Carlotta, and Tony all realized Ramesh was trying to hide his tears.

Charles said nothing for several moments and simply clung tightly to his friend. Then he said, It’s wonderful to see you, too, Ramesh. I’m so happy we finally got you to Iowa.

As the men separated, Charles said, Ramesh, this is Tony, my son.

Bhatt’s eyes grew large. It cannot be. You’re just… You can’t be more than… Goodness, Charles, how long has it been?

The last time you saw Tony was when we had our brief reunion in Italy. I think Tony was four or five at the time, so it was a long time ago, my friend. Too long.

Yes, too long, Bhatt said. I can’t wait to spend some time with all of you. He turned away and rejoined his party.

Charles understood. The director would not want to linger with the Harringtons in front of his cast and crew, considering the emotions the reunion unleashed. Charles also knew Bhatt had a million responsibilities to which he had to attend, not the least of which was getting everyone to the high school gym, where they were expected to gladhand with everyone from elected officials to students.

Better you than me, Charles thought, just as he heard Ramesh call out, Come on, Charles, you’re riding in the limo with me!

Charles looked at his wife and son, smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and headed out the door.

Tony and his mother looked at each other and shook their heads, then looked back to watch the entourage climb into limos parked in front of the air service offices. Tony saw Darcy Gillson exiting through the revolving door and realized he had been so caught up in his father’s reunion that he hadn’t even seen her walk past. All he could see now was her backside as she strode toward the curb.

All in all, still not a bad view, Tony thought, smiling.

As if his mother could read his mind, she elbowed him in the ribs. Down, boy, she said, trying to look stern but failing.

Hey! Tony objected, rubbing his ribcage. I’m allowed to look.

Yes, to look, his mother said. But nothing more. You don’t want anything to do with these Hollywood types, believe me.

Tony was ready to agree, but his mother continued. Remember, I know from experience what a mess that world is. Early in their marriage, Carlotta would accompany Charles to shoots on location. She didn’t like being left at home, and it gave her a chance to see some exotic places. However, she quickly learned she wanted no part of it. The combination of big money, bigger egos, high stress, and lack of sleep inevitably led to a lot of bad behavior. But Tony had heard this story many times before, so Carlotta summed it up this time with a simple reminder. You know most of these people are intolerable.

Tony was tempted to object, still believing his mother was exaggerating, but he held his tongue as she continued.

There are exceptions, of course, like Ramesh. But they’re rare and, even if you found one, you’d have to put up with the nightmare world in which they live and the vultures who surround them.

Wow. Okay, Mom. I get it. If Darcy Gillson begs me to run away with her, I’ll tell her no, she has to quit Hollywood and get a job here. I bet she could make a lot of money as a pole dancer at the Iron Range Tap.

Carlotta jabbed her son in the ribs a second time and abruptly changed the subject. May I ride with you to the reception? I’ll just leave our car here so I don’t have to try to park it at the school. I’m guessing it will be a madhouse.

***

It was worse than a madhouse. Thousands of fans from all over Iowa and elsewhere were waiting at the school for the famous entourage to arrive. Those waiting outside the gym in the early summer heat were sweating and impatient. Many were people who didn’t want to have anything to do with the community’s formal program. They’d just stopped by to meet their favorite actor or actress, or to get a quick selfie. They were not prepared for the two-hour wait. Compounding their irritation was the fact the mayor was urging the cast and crew to ignore the throng outside, in favor of getting the delayed program underway in the gym.

When Tony and his mother arrived, they found the doors to the gym completely blocked by fans crowded around the guests of honor, waving and shouting for attention. Tony smiled as he heard both men and women expressing their adoration for their favorite stars. He was pretty sure Gillson and Andresson had received multiple proposals of marriage by the time the mayor had pulled them through the doors into the gym. Some fans tried to follow, but the local police officers and sheriff’s deputies held firm, explaining that the gym was full.

Tony knew it would be a mistake for him and his mother to wave their VIP passes as they walked past the disappointed crowd. He stopped at the edge of the school’s front lawn and took his mother’s arm to ensure she did the same.

Let me text Dad, he said. There has to be a better way in than pushing through the mob.

A few minutes later, Charles admitted his wife and son into the event through the football players’ entrance to the locker rooms behind the gym. With a smile and nod, the elder Harrington led the way through the maze of hallways and across the gym floor to their seats, which were positioned near the center of the basketball court, a few feet to the right of the podium.

Not bad. Thanks, Mr. Bhatt, Tony thought, assuming the seats were courtesy of the director and his relationship with Tony’s father. I guess it’s true that it’s not what you know but who you know. Other community and state VIPs were seated nearby, with the movie’s crew in similar spots on the opposite side.

The celebrities were nowhere in sight. They had been ushered behind a huge curtain which hung behind the dais.

When Mayor Bowman stepped up to the microphone, the crowd immediately quieted. His opening remarks were remarkably short. Tony assumed Bowman was a good enough politician to understand the crowd was already restless. The mayor quickly got to the heart of the matter.

Before I introduce our guests of honor, I want to say a word of praise, and of thanks, to Charles Harrington.

Tony’s dad gave a quick wave, but didn’t stand.

The mayor continued. In terms of praise, I simply want to congratulate Mr. Harrington on another successful novel and screenplay. Obviously, if Charles Harrington wasn’t a great writer, our friends from Hollywood would not be here making a movie.

The crowd applauded politely, and the mayor said, In terms of thanks, I want to express our community’s sincere appreciation for Mr. Harrington’s help in encouraging Ramesh Bhatt and his studio to select Orney as the setting for the movie. As many of you know, Mr. Harrington’s son, Tony, lives and works here…

Tony gave a quick, embarrassed wave.

…and I’m sure Mr. Harrington’s occasional visits to Orney to see his son planted the seed that Orney could serve as the quintessential rural city needed for his movie.

The mayor turned and looked at Tony’s father, So thank you, Charles, for everything you’ve done. More applause.

The mayor turned to Tony, And thank you, Tony, for letting Mom and Dad come visit once in a while.

The crowd laughed, and Tony smiled.

Then, with great fanfare, courtesy of a quartet of brass instruments from the high school band, the mayor introduced each of the cast members present. As each one passed through the curtain and took a chair on the dais, the crowd roared and applauded its approval. The final two stars, Darcy Gillson and Kurt Rowsmith, were introduced together. They held hands, smiled, and waved for several minutes, as the crowd welcomed them with a standing ovation.

Ramesh Bhatt was introduced last. The ovation was warm and loud, but nothing compared to the welcome the stars had received.

Bhatt stepped up to the microphone, and the crowd sat. Bhatt said, In case you’re wondering, yes, I noticed the smattering of applause I received in comparison to the actors and actresses. I guess if I want to be popular, I’ll have to start acting in the movies.

The crowd laughed.

Of course, if I want to be the boss and make all the money, I guess I’ll just keep directing.

The crowd laughed harder.

Now that Bhatt had them hooked, he proceeded with what he was there to say. After thanking the mayor and the horn players, the police and many others, he said, I would like to get serious with you all for a moment. Since landing at the airport, we have heard from Mayor Bowman and a dozen other local residents that they are here to help us. If I may paraphrase, we’ve heard comments such as, ‘Anything you need, just let us know.’ Well, we all appreciate that, really. One reason we chose Orney is because my friend, Charles, as well as our location scouting crew, told us the residents of Orney would welcome and support us.

More applause.

Allow me to tell you tonight, on day one, I already know something we need from you. Bhatt paused a long time. It had the desired effect of amplifying the anticipation. The room was as silent as a geometry classroom during summer break.

He finally spoke. We need your understanding, he said. "Making a great movie is not about receptions and autographs and glamour. Making a movie is hard work. It often involves twelve or fourteen-hour days; days filled with stress and frustration, fears and anxieties. The entire cast and crew will be under tremendous pressure, not only to produce great performances, great images, and great sound, but to do so on a tight timeline and a tighter budget.

So, he continued, we need you to be understanding when Darcy or Kurt isn’t in the mood to chat or pose for a selfie. We need you to accept the simple truth that when you see me in a restaurant, in a conversation with one of the actors or crew members, that might not be the best time to ask for an autograph. In short, please be respectful and give the cast and crew a little space. If you do that, we’ll make sure we create some opportunities along the way for interactions between fans and stars.

Bhatt added, There’s another side to our presence that requires your understanding as well. Please be tolerant of the disruptions we cause. Filming on location can require occasional blocked streets or closed businesses or a host of other interruptions to your normal routines. The more extreme the situation, the more we need your support, like when we’re in the streets at 3 a.m., making noise and shining bright lights around. There won’t be a lot of late-night shooting, but there will be some. It only makes it harder, and causes it to last longer, when someone opens a bedroom window and starts yelling at us.

Some in the crowd giggled.

And Mr. Mayor, please be understanding when we crash that dump truck through the front windows of City Hall… He paused and smiled. Just kidding.

The crowd laughed. Even Mayor Bowman joined in as the blood returned to his face.

In closing, Bhatt said, I want to tell all of you we are genuinely happy to be here and honored to be received so warmly. Obviously, we want you to love us. None of us would have jobs if you didn’t appreciate our work and look forward to seeing us. For the next six weeks or so, we’re going to be living together. Like any new roommates, we’ll need to make adjustments and compromises to make it work. On behalf of my cast and crew, I promise you we’ll work hard to hold up our end, and we’ll appreciate everything you do to support us. Thank you.

The crowd rose to its feet with an ovation that rivaled the one given to the movie stars. Bhatt smiled and waved his appreciation.

He’s good, Tony thought. It won’t help, but he’s really good.

For the next two hours, the stars were surrounded by people seeking autographs and selfies.

***

Later that night, a select group of people sat on padded benches around a fire pit on the backyard patio of Nathan Freed’s residence. Freed was the founding principal of Orney’s largest law firm. Now mostly retired, Freed was known as much for his philanthropy and community involvement as he was for his prior brilliance as an attorney. He and Tony had become close friends a few years previously, when Tony had dated Freed’s daughter, Lisa. A senseless murder had ended Lisa’s life, and the two men had grieved together. Later, at Tony’s urging, Freed had adopted a daughter, Trina, who had been rescued from an abusive father.

In addition to Tony and Nathan and Trina Freed, the group enjoying drinks around the fire included Tony’s parents, Bhatt, the mayor, a few other elected officials, and three