Hondo said, “They must have had a hundred people out here to repair everything so fast.” I nodded.
Bodhi met us at Sylvia’s office, along with Wilson. I liked it that he stayed close.
He must have read my thoughts because he said, “I’ll watch her twenty-four-seven for a while.”
“Good,” I said. I added, “Not your fault, amigo.”
“Yeah,” he said, but his eyes showed he didn’t believe it.
A white stretch limo came through the gate as Troy came down the stairs. He said, “I called them. We can go together this way.” His eyes looked as bloodshot as a vampire’s, with dark crescents like bruises under each eye. It appeared Troy slept as poorly as the rest of us.
We all sat in the rear, with Bodhi between Amber and Hondo. Troy, Wilson, and I sat beside each other. As we pulled away from the mansion, Troy said, “Anyone want a drink?” He didn’t wait for answers as he poured a tumbler full of vodka on the rocks for himself and drank it down without lowering the glass. He exhaled slowly, then poured himself a second one.
I said, “Easy does it, Troy. We still have to get through this.”
He looked over the glass at me as he drained the second one, then built a third. “I’ll sip on this one. This is way tougher than I thought it would be.”
I looked at Bodhi and she met my eyes, silently mouthing, ‘Thank you’. I nodded at her and said to Troy, “Yeah.”
The small service had been Sylvia’s request, with less than fifty people present. I hadn’t expected Jericho to be there but he stood front and center, giving the eulogy. His three female cohorts stood at the edge of the crowd.
He said the usual things about when and where Sylvia and Derek were born, their accomplishments and awards, when they died, and who the survivors were: Bodhi and Troy. Jericho then played several songs on his guitar, all originals written by him. I have to admit that Jericho is above average. He concluded the service with a moment of prayer, and walked to Bodhi and Troy to give his condolences. The others followed to do the same. It was over in less than an hour. Bodhi had a hard time leaving, and broke down again. Amber held her close and we made our way to the limo and the drive back to the mansion. Troy hit the vodka even before the limo doors closed.
Troy could barely walk by the time we arrived. I glanced at the vodka bottle when I left the vehicle: empty. Hondo and I helped him upstairs into his room. Troy fell on the huge bed, and began snoring.
We closed his door and descended the stairs to sit in the office with Bodhi and Amber. She had recovered and doing as good as she could in the situation. She said, “Thank you all so much, for everything.”
We hung around for another hour before we made our way from the mansion. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw Bodhi standing in the doorway, with Wilson a short distance behind her, keeping close.
The rest of the week passed routinely, with Hondo and I talking to Captain Hancock about progress on the case and doing some digging on our own. Hondo turned up nothing, again, on Jericho Moon. We talked to Bodhi at least twice a day by phone to check on
her, and we kept in contact with Wilson on anything that might set off his radar.
We also worked out at the gym, swam in the ocean, played beach volleyball, and studied our lines for our next scenes. In the evenings Amber came to my house, and Hondo came over several times, too. Sometimes Bodhi and Wilson showed up, and we cooked on the grill and talked about things, or watched a movie.
Amber and I grew closer, and I thought about her often during the day. I’d liked a number of women, and lusted after almost as many. A few of them I thought I loved, but none of them matched this feeling with Amber.
Hondo and I were scheduled to shoot a scene early in the morning, so I left Amber asleep and picked up Hondo on the way to the studio.
As we approached the guard gate I saw the familiar guard peek out at us and jerk back in the booth. “What the...?” I said.
I rolled to a stop in Shamu and six people jumped into view, and the guard hopped to my open window.
He hopped because he had a fake peg leg like Captain Ahab. Hondo laughed out loud and I looked at the other people. They all had wooden peg legs attached to their knees, with the foot sticking out behind. Half of them had rubber harpoons, and two of them, buxom women in low cut pirate shirts, held a sign saying Show us your White Whale.
The guard leaned on my side window and said, “Lonny over there found these in the prop department. We thought it was too good to pass up.”
I started laughing. “Brother, you got me right in the blowhole.”
He patted my arm and said, “Go on to work, and thanks for being a good sport.” Hondo and I gave the others a thumbs-up when we passed.
We reached the new sound stage in five minutes, and we dressed and had our makeup applied before anyone else showed up, except a few people doing finishing touches on the set. The two chairs with Baca and Wells stenciled on the back beckoned to us, so we obeyed and sat. We went over the script pages together since we had a good bit of dialogue. Once we had it down, Hondo and I sat back as Mandy, G, and Shells arrived. Shells held a lot of papers, and he looked sick.
G and Mandy moved to the cameras and conferred with the cinematographer while Shells approached us. He handed each of us a new script, saying, “I’m sorry men.”
I knew why he said it when I opened to the first page and then thumbed through the others. I said, “This isn’t the script we studied.”
“I know. G said he had an inspirational moment.”