Good Day In Hell by J.D. Rhoades Page B

corner. On one wall was a pair of cheap bookcases filled with books on filmmaking, texts on acting, and biographies of Hollywood stars. One shelf contained a set of three-ring binders, and it was one of those that Roy took down as he sat at the desk. He called them his “shooting scripts,” and they contained the plans for each of his productions. He had scouted locations, mapped out entrances and exits, even drawn a few cmde storyboards of the scenes he envisioned. Some of those would have to be changed, he thought, as his eyes danced over the crude cartoonish images of mayhem he had drawn. He felt a sudden sharp pain in his head, like an icepick jammed brutally between his eyes. Roy gritted his teeth and rubbed his eyes, willing the pain to go away. After a few moments, it subsided to a dull throb. The headaches were getting closer together and increasing in severity. Laurel hadn’t rushed things by much. It was time to make his move.
    As if to reassure himself, he went to the desk and took an envelope out of one of the cubbyholes. He unfolded the paper inside and looked at it again, even though he had the words memorized by now. Inoperable…some experimental procedures…some chance of success… The letter tried hard to be optimistic, considering that it was a death warrant.
    For years Roy had held on, knowing that someday, somehow, he was going to make it back. The people who had used him, the people who had shoved him aside, would fall, and he would rise. It was an article of faith with him. Sometimes he imagined walking back onto the set, pausing for a moment in the doorway a all heads turned to look at him, a shadow backlit by the sun outside… the image faded. It wasn’t going to happen now. There wasn’t time.
    He considered the advantages that having a third player would give. The kid hadn’t had the rehearsal time that Roy and Laurel had, but he could do some of thegrunt work, like driving. That would free up Laurel to take a bigger part in the production. That would make her happy for a while. Until it didn’t matter.
    Roy and Laurel had fallen in together because each of them saw their own fury mirrored in the other. Laurel had been Roy’s audience, the perfect sounding board for his vision of revenge. She was the closest thing he’d had to a friend in a long time. But in the end, she was expendable. When this was all over there’d only be one name on the headlines. It was tough, but that was show business.
    After dinner, Marie called Keller. He answered on the second ring. “Hey,” he said.
    “Hey yourself,” she said. “How’re you doing?”
    “I’m okay,” he said. “You?”
    “Fantastic,” she said. “I’ve got a chance to work a murder case.”
    She heard him chuckle at that. She laughed as well. “I know, I know,” she said. “Only a cop would call that luck.”
    “So,” he said, “that mean you’re working this weekend?”
    “Possibly,” she said. “Shelby--that’s the detective I’d be working with--says he’s going to try to get the overtime authorized. But I kind of have to stay around here. Can you come up?” Before he could answer, she added, “We’ve been invited to dinner with Shelby and his family.”
    “We?”
    “Yeah,” she said. “You and me. Like a couple.” There was a long pause. “You there?” she said finally.
    “Yeah,” he said. Then he laughed. “Dinner with the boss. It sounds so … normal.”
    “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
    “No,” he said, “not bad. Just new for me. I haven’t lived what you’d call a normal life.”
    She thought back to her father’s words. “Maybe that’s good,” she said. “New things, I mean.” She paused for a moment. “I miss you, Jack,” she said. “I want to see you.”
    Another pause. “I miss you, too,” he said finally. “So yeah. I’ll be there. What time?”
    “Dinner’s at six-thirty,” she said. “Pick me up at six?”
    “Okay,” he said. I love you, she wanted to