Bad Moon Rising

“We can go over them on the way to the location.”

“Sounds good. I hope I’m nominated for an Emmy on this one.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ve got the juiciest part.”

“Oh yeah, and your chance to show a lot of range, where’s that?”

I said, “If Jeff Bridges can get nominated for an Oscar for portraying an alien in Starman, I figure I’m a cinch for an Emmy.”

Hondo shook his head, “Come on, Mr. Emmy Winner, let’s go so I can watch you perform.”

The shoot went fast and we had a good time. The director, Emma, let us improvise a few takes after I whined to her. The only problem for me involved the blue makeup. I accidentally got a smear of it in my eye, which set it to watering and smarting so I blinked every few seconds. Three female extras and one male extra thought I was flirting big time, so I had to shut that down between takes.

The male extra didn’t give up and slipped me a piece of paper with his name, address, phone number, email, and Facebook page. I looked at him and he held his hand with the thumb and little finger extended to indicate a phone and put it to his ear as he silently mouthed Call me.

I shook my head and said, “I’m straight.” He looked disappointed.

Hondo said in my ear, “That could show your range.”

“Oh you are a funny little blue man tonight aren’t you?”

Emma called a wrap on the day and we cleaned up, grabbed a breakfast taco from the table and ate them as we drove home. The sun broke the horizon as I turned on the street to Hondo’s house.

Two police sedans flashing their red and blue lights had parked in front of his walkway. “This isn’t good,” Hondo said.

Chapter 9

I parked behind a sedan and as we exited the pickup, four officers approached us. The sergeant, a baldheaded, rangy guy, stopped us as he looked at my friend and said, “Mr. Hondo Wells?”

Hondo nodded, then carefully pulled out his wallet and handed the sergeant his private investigator license. I asked, “What’s this about?”

He handed the license back to Hondo before speaking, “And you are?”

“Ronny Baca, his friend and business partner. If it helps, we we’re the ones who found the victims at the Artell Mansion last week. Captain Hancock can vouch for us.”

The sergeant said, “Wait here.” He walked to the sedan and used the radio to call. We couldn’t hear the conversation, but he came back to us in a few minutes. “What we have is a murder victim who texted Mr. Wells a short time before his death.”

I felt the hair prickle on my neck. “Who?”

“Wilson Berra.” He asked Hondo, “Is he a friend of yours?”

Hondo said, “Both of ours. We served together.”

“Where?”

“Afghanistan.”

“And where were you two last night?”

Hondo said, “Working. We were on a movie set.”

“Actors?”

“Yes.”

He nodded, “Where, and what movie?”