Bad Moon Rising

“I know you will.” He rose, started toward the door, and stopped. He said, “You need to check on any tie-in with the guy murdered in Topanga Canyon. The killers used the victim’s blood to write on the walls there, too.”

Hondo said, “We will.” Archie nodded and left.

We departed the office an hour later. Hondo said he would meet me on set tomorrow, and Amber and I drove to my place. As I unlocked the door my phone rang. It was a local number, but no name. I said, “Hello.”

“Mr. Ronald Baca?”

“Yes.”

“I’m with the press and hoped we could talk about the case you’re involved in, the Artell murders.”

“You’d be better off calling the police.”

“The public deserves to know what you saw in the Artell Mansion, what types of sexual depravity occurred during the killings.”

I hung up. The phone rang again, so I turned off my phone. Amber’s phone followed, and she did the same thing. We grabbed two beers from the fridge and sat together on the couch.

“I am so tired,” Amber said.

“Me, too.”

She put the cold bottle to her forehead, “I’ve never seen so many dead people before.”

“I’m sorry I made you come with me. But I didn’t want us to be separated in case the killers happened to still be there.”

“You wanted to protect me. I know that.” She scooted sideways on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her so she could face me. She looked sad and serious, “I grew up in a home full of gentle people. My parents believed in a peaceful culture, and so did my brothers. And then I meet you and suddenly I’m in a violent world of the worst kind. I’ve been kidnapped and beaten up, and I’ve been to a murder scene right out of a nightmare.”

I said, “I’m sorry. This is not my normal life.”

She moved her hand to hold mine and slid her thumb in soft circles on the back of my hand “I understand that. And I’m here with you, but it’s an effort for me not to run away, not because of you, but because of the world you inhabit. It scares me to death. I’ve never felt as vulnerable as I did today. It’s like I stepped into a dangerous jungle, but one that doesn’t look any different from the one I knew a month ago. But it is different, your jungle is different.”

I felt bad, and not only from the emotional stress of today. I took both her hands. “I care about you very much.”

Amber said, “I know, and I’m crazy about you, Ronny.” She took a moment to gather her words and gave me an almost sad smile, “But if it gets too bad, I might have to leave. I’m with you now, and I’m gonna try as hard as I can not to run away, but…”

I said, “Stay with me, as long as you can.”

She half-smiled, and I smiled to reassure her, but inside I felt like I’d heard a death knell. We rearranged our bodies on the couch so she rested her head on my chest. We fell asleep in seconds.

I dreamt of losing things, from my wallet, to my dog when I was a kid, to Jordan S. Hammond, the Marine I left above Shok Valley, and lastly to Amber as she departed on a train and couldn’t hear me calling her name.

We rose early the next morning and both of us had dark circles under our eyes. I said, “You didn’t sleep well, either, huh?”

“Not so much.” She stayed close as I prepared coffee, lightly touching my back with her fingers as if to reassure both of us we were still together. We didn’t talk a lot, and Amber left for work as soon as we finished.

I checked my email and rechecked the call sheet to see what time we shot our first scenes. The times hadn’t changed since the last time I looked, so I planned to leave in an hour so I would arrive an hour ahead of schedule, just in case of any last minute changes. I struggled to keep my mind on acting, and my thoughts returned again and again to the murders. I cleaned the kitchen, made the bed, dressed, and climbed into Shamu for the drive to the studio.

Chapter 8

The guy at the gate recognized Shamu and grinned as he waved me though, saying, “When you show up, it makes me feel like I’m working at Sea World.”

“Har har,” I said. Hondo arrived ahead of me and I saw him park near wardrobe. He waited, and we both went inside to dress and get our makeup applied, because today we’re portraying war-weary soldiers who evidently never wiped their faces during their entire tour, because the makeup folks applied lots of grime and stuff on our skin. I said to Hondo, “You sleep okay?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nuh-uh, too many things up here.” I tapped my temple with a forefinger.

We left forty minutes later and walked on set. I spotted G there, and Shells and Mandy, along with several others. G motioned us over and positioned all of us in a huddle. He handed us new script papers and said, “I’ve made your enemies to be the Mafia, but the scene stays almost the same. I feel the change makes the entire story more significant, more vibrant.”