Chapters (48)
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- CHAPTER 37
- CHAPTER 38
- CHAPTER 39
- CHAPTER 40
- CHAPTER 41
- CHAPTER 42
- CHAPTER 43
- CHAPTER 44
- CHAPTER 45
- CHAPTER 46
- CHAPTER 47
- CHAPTER 48
“They’ve sniffed the air,” said Milo. “Smelled Court TV, screenplays, book deals. The warning from on-high is no O.J. on this one.” He drew a remote control module from his jacket pocket and flicked on the monitor.
Sat down next to me, slumped and closed his eyes and stayed that way.
* * *
Blue screen, video menu printout. Time, date, D.A’s evidence code.
I took the remote from Milo’s hands. His eyes remained shut but his breathing quickened.
I flicked.
A face filled the screen.
Big blue eyes, tan skin, symmetrical features, shaggy blond hair.
Jane Doe Number One.
Milo had asked if I wanted to start out of sequence with Michaela. I’d considered that, said let’s do it in order.
Hoping lack of personal contact would help.
It didn’t.
* * *
The camera stayed close.
An off-screen voice, male, smooth, amiable, said, “Okay, audition time. Digging it so far?”
Zoom shot of the girl’s smile. Moist, white teeth, perfectly aligned. “Sure am.”
“Sure am, Brad. When you’re presenting yourself to a casting agent or anyone else, it’s important to be direct and specific and personal.”
The girl’s smile altered course, became an ambiguous crescent. “Um, okay.” The camera moved back. Nervous blue eyes. Giggle.
“Take two,” said Brad Dowd.
“Huh?”
“Sure am...”
“Sure, Brad.”
“Sure. Am. Brad.”
The girl’s eyes shifted to the left. “Sure. Am. Brad.”
“Perfect. Okay, go on.”
“With what?”
“Say something.”
“Like what?”
“Improvise.”
“Umm...” Lip-lick. A glance back at battleship-gray walls. “It’s kind of different. Down here.”
“Dig it?”
“Umm...I guess.”
“I. Guess...”
“I guess, Brad.”
“It is different,” said Brad Dowd. “Hermetic. Know what that means?”
Giggle. “Umm, not really.”
“It means isolated and quiet. Away from all the hassle. The Sturm und Drang.”
No response from the girl.
“Know why we’re auditioning you in a hermetic place?”
“Nora said it was serene.”
“Serene,” said Brad. “Sure, that’s a good word. Like one of those meditation things, ohmmmm, Shakti, bodhi vandana, cabalabaloo. Ever do any meditation?”
“I did Pilates.”
“I. Did. Pilates...”
“Brad.”
Off-screen sigh. “A hermetic place means less distraction. Right?”
“Right— Brad.”
“A hermetic, serene place strips away superfluous elements so it’s easier to find your center. Not like back in class where everyone’s looking and judging. No one will judge you here. Never.”
The girl smiled again.
“What do you think of that?” said Brad.
“It’s good.”
“It’s good?”
“It’s real good.”
“Brad!”
Blue eyes jumped. “Brad.”
“It’s. Good— ”
“It’sgoodBrad. I’m sorry I’m kinda nervous.”
“Now, you interrupted me.”
“Sorry. Brad.”
Ten-second silence. The girl fidgeted.
Brad Dowd said, “Totally forgiven.”
“Thanks. Brad.”
Ten more seconds. The girl worked at relaxing her posture.
“Okay, we’re serene and hermetic and ready to do some serious work. Do you like Sondheim?”
“Um, don’t know him— Brad.”