Shoot the Money by Chris Wiltz

Author:Chris Wiltz
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Open Road Media Mystery & Thriller

***

Earlier that day Ramon set up the lights for a shoot inside the nightclub. “No, no, LaDonna, turn it this way.”

LaDonna had called Karen and Luc, their phones vibrating one after the other on Karen’s bedside table, leaving them both messages to get to La Costa Brava pronto, Ramon wanted them for a scene before they opened for lunch.

“This way?” LaDonna had the light turned toward the bar.

“No. Jesus. Put it on him, directly on him.” He meant Luc.

“It is on him.”

“No it isn’t.” He walked over to her, snatched the pole out of her hand and said, “This is on him. This—” he turned the light back where she’d had it “—is on the liquor. Do we fucking care about the liquor, LaDonna?”

“Okay, that’s it. I’ve had enough. Find yourself another star, Ramon. You are an asshole.”

She stalked off toward the stairway. He ran after her.

“Please, LaDonna, bambina, I beg you, come back. I’ll try to be more patient, really, I’ll try. I know, I know. I am an asshole.”

She’d been slouched, weight on one foot, arms folded, looking anywhere but at him. Now she stood up and tried to get in his face, which was difficult. Ramon was a tall man, six one or two, and LaDonna seemed to be speaking into the big gold medallion around his neck. “Ramon, honey, I’m going to give it another go, okay? But if you ever speak to me like I’m your goddamn lackey again, I’ll quit on the spot and you go find yourself another fucking movie—because Buddha will sit on you if you ever step foot on this set again.”

“Okay, okay,” he said and went back to getting the light on Luc.

She moved off muttering something about fucking killing him.

Karen sat at one of the tables on the sidelines. Ramon had decided he didn’t need her after all. She and Luc looked at each other, smiles playing at their lips, but they knew they better not let LaDonna catch them at it. She’d turn her desire to kill Ramon on them.

LaDonna sat at the bar, Luc in the background shining wine glasses with a towel for the scene.

Ramon adjusted the tripod and got behind the camera. “Okay, LaDonna, whenever you’re ready, chiquita.”

Ramon liked to spice up his vocabulary with Spanish words and endearments, some of which Karen thought he made up, when he was behind the camera, but his name was about what was left of any Spanish ancestry. He was a New Orleans-born, light-skinned black man, good looking with his stubble goatee, huge brown eyes, and major bling in his ears—about five carats of what Karen assumed was cubic zirconia. He’d gone to the University of New Orleans in Film Arts. His major achievement had been to get an intern position on the movie Ray.

LaDonna had on the peplum dress Ramon had bought her. She’d made up her eyes with a little gold at the corners. She gathered her braids then shook them out, sat up straight, shoulders back, and looked directly at the camera.

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