Video Kill by Joanne Fluke Read Free Book Online Page A

Free Fire had been released. Tony had been sure his future as a screenwriter was assured, and they’d opted for the top-of-the-line, four-bedroom Colonial at Studio City Estates. They had spent the previous eight years of their marriage in a tiny Los Angeles apartment, and neither Allison nor Tony had anticipated the upkeep that was necessary on such a large home. There were gardeners, pool maintenance men, a pest control service, and, over Allison’s objections, a weekly cleaning crew. Allison still felt guilty about the cleaning crew—she’d been raised to believe that a woman should take care of her own house—but Tony had insisted. To alleviate her guilt Allison went into a flurry of dusting and vacuuming before the crew arrived so they wouldn’t think she was a bad housekeeper.
    While she waited for the dinner rolls to brown, Allison switched on the kitchen television. The announcer was saying something about a stabbing in Hollywood and she half-listened as she tidied up the kitchen. In the middle of the report, she took the rolls out of the stove, wrapped two of them in aluminum foil, and put everything into a basket for carrying, including the pan of double-fudge brownies she’d picked up at a local bakery. Even if her mother didn’t eat them, she could dole them out to the nursing staff.
    Methodically, Allison locked up the house. There were four sets of sliding glass doors leading to the pool area, two side doors, one double front door, and the attached garage door. Then she got into the silver convertible that Tony had bought her for her last birthday and backed carefully out onto the circular driveway.
    Allison didn’t think of the news flash again until she was walking up the brick steps of the convalescent center. The newscaster had said something about a disc the killer had left at the scene. Now she wished that she’d listened more carefully. The whole thing reminded her of the movie idea that Tony and Erik had pitched last year.
    Â 
    Â 
    Tony was on the phone with Alan Goldberg, and Erik half listened as he paged through their Video Kill treatment. He was still sickened by the account he’d seen of the murder. Sharee Lyons, the young victim, had been stabbed repeatedly. The thought of the killer planning the whole scene, setting up his video camera on a tripod in the bathroom, and cold-bloodedly capturing her death was gruesome.
    Erik remembered the morning, almost two years ago, when Tony had first approached him with the Video Kill idea. Both men had been intrigued with the possibilities. Erik recalled using words like promotable and high concept as they’d settled down to work out the logistics. It had been fun spicing up Tony’s “hot” idea with bits of evocative dialogue guaranteed to sell the project. Then it had been pure fiction, a wild flight of fancy. Now that their idea had become a grisly reality, it had turned into something else altogether, something revolting, something evil, something that Erik wasn’t prepared for at all. He felt almost as if their idea had been stolen and violated in some unspeakable way.
    Tony laughed, and Erik tried to concentrate on the one-sided conversation. He caught phrases like If we’re lucky, he’ll do it again and Let’s just hope the police don’t catch him right away . Naturally, Erik was glad that Cinescope was interested in Video Kill . He certainly could use the money. But Tony seemed to be totally ignoring the fact that a brutal crime had been committed.
    Erik barely noticed as Tony said his good-byes and hung up the phone. He didn’t look up until he felt Tony’s hand on his shoulder.
    â€œWhat’s the matter, Erik? Are you turning squeamish about doing this movie?”
    â€œOf course not.” Erik frowned. “It’s your attitude, Tony. You’re completely forgetting a girl was brutally murdered and the killer is loose. It’s a cause for alarm,