Michael McGarrity - Nothing But Trouble

What Kerney thought would take no more than a few minutes to accomplish took almost an hour. Usher’s attention to detail was impressive, as was the amount of work that would be needed to get a one-minute scene on film.

He asked the art director, a portly, middle-aged Englishman named Ethan Stone, if such thoroughness was normal.

“With Malcolm it is,” Stone replied in a clipped British public-school accent. “Some directors are far more freewheeling, of course. But no movie ever gets made exactly as planned. There are too many variables: cost, weather, equipment failure, the decision to improvise. You’ve seen The Wild Bunch?”

“Several times,” Kerney answered.

“Remember the scene where William Holden attempts to free a member of his gang? Sam Peckinpah shot that on the spur of the moment and it worked brilliantly.”

Ward, the transportation captain, waved everyone toward the vehicles. They were ready to move on.

“So, even with all this careful planning,” Kerney said as he walked with Stone to the cars, “the actual filming can change.”

“It’s bound to,” Stone replied with a chuckle. “But too much change will have Charlie Zwick tearing his hair out.”

At the ranch headquarters the group was met by Julia Jordan. Joe and Bessie did not join them, although Kerney caught a quick glimpse of a figure standing at the living-room window inside their house.

Before Usher started working on the next location setup, the catering vehicle arrived, and everyone broke for coffee. Julia, who’d glued herself to Kerney’s side, shook her head when he asked if Joe and Bessie were planning to come out and watch the goings-on.

“Dad wants nothing to do with this. It took Mom browbeating him for weeks to get him to let Johnny use the ranch in the movie.”

“Why is that?”

“Dad doesn’t like the fact that Johnny is using other people’s money to pay back a tiny portion of what he’s borrowed from him over the years. He doesn’t think it’s the same as paying the debt yourself.”

Kerney couldn’t think of a polite comment on such a grim assessment of the relationship between father and son. He watched Roger Ward take a folding card table and several chairs out of the back of a vehicle and set them up for Susan Berman and Charlie Zwick, who sat and busily got to work.

“Looks like you’ll be here for a while,” Julia said.

“All morning,” Kerney said, handing her his copy of the scouting location schedule. “Six different exterior scenes are to be filmed here, over a period of three days. For each sequence they have to map everything out and decide exactly what they need. Then they move on to the cattle drive.”

Julia scanned the schedule. “My, don’t you sound like an expert.”

Kerney laughed. “Hardly.” His cell phone rang. The screen flashed an unfamiliar number, and when he answered Flavio Sapian identified himself. “Hang on for a minute,” he replied.

“The wife?” Julia mouthed silently.

Kerney didn’t rise to the bait. “Will you excuse me?”

Julia frowned briefly, then grinned and stepped away.

“What’s up?” Kerney asked.

“We can’t ID the victim,” Flavio replied, “but the autopsy revealed that he was heavily sedated on barbiturates at the time of death. The pathologist says the vic was definitely unconscious when he was thrown from the vehicle.”

“I see,” Kerney said as he watched Johnny gesture to Julia to join him. She waved and smiled winningly at Kerney before hurrying off.

“Plus,” Sapian said, “he had ligature marks on his wrists, which suggests his hands had been tied prior to the time he was dumped.”

“Anything else?” Kerney asked.

“According to the autopsy the victim wasn’t a teenager, and probably not a Mexican national. The pathologist pegged him to be in his early to mid-twenties. Based on his dental work he was most likely either a U.S. citizen or a permanent resident. It seems like you were right, Chief, this was a homicide.”

“A premeditated killing with an interesting twist,” Kerney said.

“What twist is that?” Flavio asked.

“Why go to all the trouble to bind and drug the victim, only to throw him out of a moving vehicle to die in the middle of the road?”

“That makes sense if the killer wanted the body to be found,” Flavio replied.

“Or to send somebody a message,” Kerney added. “But what kind of message and who was it for?” The questions had been in Kerney’s head since yesterday, and he’d yet to come up with answers that made sense.

“Well, Mendoza is my only lead,” Flavio said. “I’ll do a little more digging into his personal life before I approach him. Maybe something interesting will pop up.”

“Good idea,” Kerney replied. He disconnected, fished out the business card Supervisory Special Agent Fidel had given him, and dialed his direct line.

Over by the catering vehicle Julia and Johnny had hooked up with Ethan Stone, and the trio were walking in the direction of the barn. When the agent answered, Kerney gave him the gist of his conversation with Sapian, and suggested that Fidel should be the one to get Flavio to back off on his investigation. Gruffly, Fidel agreed, told Kerney to stay in touch, and disconnected.

Somewhat piqued by Fidel’s attitude, so typical of federal officers who looked down their noses at local cops, Kerney put the phone away just as Malcolm Usher called him over. He asked a few questions about how cops would serve a court order to the rancher and, armed with the information Kerney provided, began talking to the cinematographer about the shots he wanted to use.

Johnny, Julia, and Ethan Stone had returned from the barn and were clustered around the construction supervisor, a man named Barry Hingle, who had the good looks and hard body of an actor.

Kerney joined them and listened as Stone told the man he wanted all the buildings to look weather beaten and dingy.

“Hardscrabble and impoverished best describes it,” Stone said. “This must appear to be the ranch of a man who is barely hanging on.”

“Daddy will absolutely hate that,” Julia said with a laugh.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Stone said. “It’s all magic, smoke and mirrors. Barry and his crew will put every thing back as it should be once we finish.”

“You’d better,” Julia said teasingly.

Stone and Hingle moved away to inspect the buildings.

“Where’s the old man?” Johnny asked Julia, his gaze locked on his parents’ house.

“Dad is probably inside,” Julia replied. “He doesn’t get around as much as he used to.”

Johnny squared his shoulders. “I’d better go see him.” He marched off to the house and paused at the screen door to the porch for a long moment before entering.

“That should be interesting,” Julia said as she rested her hand on Kerney’s arm. “It always is when those two get together.”

Kerney wondered why Julia seemed so pleased about the tension that existed between her father and brother. He studied her expression, looking for an answer. All he saw was the face of a self-indulgent, attractive middle-aged woman. Although her eyes danced and her lips smiled, it was surface charm. The thought occurred to him that she was very much like her brother: both were vain, lacked empathy, and craved excitement. He took her hand off his arm.

Julia reacted with a teasing smile. “Oh, was I being too familiar?”

“As a matter of fact you were,” Kerney said.

“Come on, Kerney. We’re old friends. Don’t be so uptight.”

“Old friends, and nothing more,” Kerney replied.

Julia tossed her hair and gazed up at him. “Maybe we should change that.”

“Not likely.”