Perfect.1
Yeah, that was the first thing that crossed my mind as he walked into the scene. Though dressed casual in a pair of black slacks and a light brown shirt, he commanded immediate attention. His voice was deep, respectful, and didn’t rise above a normal level, yet I could tell that he was someone that was used to being obeyed, and his orders followed.
Hovering just over six feet tall, he had the aura of someone much larger. Light brown hair tousled lightly by the breeze, and nearly emerald eyes topped off an image that seemed… perfect. 2
Now, I just had to figure out why, at first glance, I felt an immediate hatred for him. 3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~4
Aliens were closing in. A sickly green in appearance, they nearly oozed slime as they crawled over the uneven stony ground. Although slow in their manner, the rock face they drew near blocked off escape from the two individuals that the aliens had been chasing. 5
Looking around wildly, the woman started to cry when she realized that all avenues of escape were cut off. Tensing as a comforting arm went around her shoulder, she immediately fell into the man that was standing beside her. 6
“Hold me,” she whimpered.7
“I am,” he replied in a soothing tone, his eyes alternating between her face and the approaching hordes. “And I’m never letting you go.”8
“Oh, Geoff,” the woman whispered. “I love you.”9
“Right back atcha, babe,” Geoff replied, turning to her and delivering a soul-searing kiss.10
“And, cut!” a voice called out. “Excellent take. Kyle, I need to talk to you.” 11
The couple immediately broke apart from the kiss, and the woman walked away. Geoff, or Kyle as he was known, sighed as the director approached. 12
“Who writes this crud?” Kyle asked. “I mean, ‘right back atcha?’” He shook his head. “Come on.”13
“It’s the character’s catch phrase,” came the reply. “You know, the same character that’s made you very wealthy these past few years?” 14
“Made my agent wealthy, you mean.” Kyle headed for the buffet table and grabbed a bottled water. Opening it, he took a long drink. “And Jesus, Matt,” he said, swiping lightly at the water that beaded on his lips, “make sure Sabine lays off the cigarettes if we have to reshoot that scene. It’s like licking an ashtray.”15
“Anything else?” 16
“Sarcasm?” Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you gave that up for Lent or something.”17
“I’m not Catholic.” 18
“My mistake.” Kyle sighed lightly. “Look, I appreciate the movie, the character and I get a kick out of playing Geoff Saturn…”19
“But?” came the prompt.20
“But does it have to be so damned cheesy?”21
“Yes. Yes it does.” Matt glanced up as a stagehand approached carrying a cordless phone. “Closed set,” he reminded him. “No phone calls.”22
“This one is important,” came the reply as the phone was passed to Kyle. 23
A thousand and one scenarios went through Kyle’s mind as he took the phone, and not one of them was anything remotely close to a good situation. “Hello?” he listened for a moment, and frowned. “Whoa, slow down, Davy.”24
Sensing a complete change from the previous jovial banter, Matt had already worked out a rescheduling in his mind. It was never a good sign when a phone call warranted interrupting a closed set, and even worse when it involved the main actor. Regardless how good Kyle Ryders was, an upsetting phone call could do enough to make it useless to continue shooting until whatever it was calmed down. 25
Lowering the phone slowly, Kyle handed it back to the stagehand, and then looked at Matt. “I gotta go,” he said in an oddly calm tone. 26
“What happened?” Matt asked, wondering if it was anything that would need damage control. 27
“I don’t really know,” Kyle replied. “Davy’s freaking out. All I got was something about cops being at my place.” 28
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~29
It took less than ten minutes to change out of the wardrobe for the movie, and once back in his normal clothes, Kyle Ryders headed for his car. Hoping that he would be able to make it off the studio lot without reporters giving chase, he slapped on a pair of dark sunglasses and headed out.30
That was the main problem with being the current ‘golden boy’… everyone wanted something from him. Autograph seekers he could handle. It was the reporters that dogged his steps and the paparazzi that chased him around snapping photos that tended to piss him off. 31
Luckily, the few reporters that were hanging around seemed content with just snapping pictures as he left, then went back to watching for their next victim. Traffic was surprisingly light for eight in the morning, and Kyle made it back to his property in less than thirty minutes. Slowing as he approached, he tried not to let his imagination run wild at the amount of police cars that were there. 32
Now he knew why there had been so few reporters at the studio… they were all camped out in front of his property, each one vying for the honor of taking a picture of whatever had happened. 33
Kyle didn’t want to stop until he was in his yard, but logic told him that to get in he would have to open the gate, and that would be like an invitation for the paparazzi to storm in. Pulling off the road, he got out, exhaled away most of the tension, then put his ‘acting’ face on. 34
Making it farther than he thought he would before being recognized, he prevented the cringe from being too noticeable as a reporter shouted out his name. Then, he was bombarded with flashes from digital cameras and questions. 35
“Whoa, hold on,” he said loudly, getting a fair amount of attention. “I have no idea what’s going on, and I’d really appreciate you moving so I can find out.”36
“Kyle!” a reported shouted, not moving from right in front of the actor. “Reports have a dead body on your property. Who is she?”37
Blinking, Kyle looked at the gate, and the police officer that was standing on the other side staring at him. “I don’t know,” he said, then motioned to the officer. “Little help, please?”38
The door to the gate opened, and Kyle made his way through the sea of bodies before a hand reached out and grabbed him by the arm. Pulled into his own property, he turned, slammed the door to the gate, then looked at the officer. 39
“Dude,” he started, but was silenced by the person that had pulled him in through the fence.40
“No time for that,” Greg said. “Come on.” 41
Following his old friend in to the house, Kyle looked around at the mess. “What the hell happened?”42
”Small party last night,” Greg replied. He pointed to the couch, and waited for Kyle to sit. 43
Opting to stand, Kyle stared at Greg. Ten years previous, he, Greg, and another friend Davy had arrived in California together. They had made a promise that whichever one made it big would take care of the others. Now, Kyle was a major motion star, and the other two plus one more childhood friend lived in a large guest house on his property. 44
“Where’s Liam?” Kyle asked. Since he’d spoken to Davy on the phone, and Greg was here, that left one pal unaccounted for. 45
“Talking to the cops,” Greg answered. He looked up as a uniformed officer entered. 46
“Kyle Ryders?” the man asked. 47
“Yes?” Kyle replied, not really knowing why he was suddenly experience major guilt. “What’s going on?”48
”Where were you from nine last night to five this morning?”49
”On set,” Kyle replied, the major guilt upgrading to massive guilt. 50
“All night?”51
”Arrived a little after seven last night, and came back after Davy called me. Night shoot, closed set, and what the hell is going on?” 52
“Do you know a Laine Carmichael?”53
“Should I?” Looking from the officer to Greg, then back, Kyle was discovering that his guilt was quickly morphing into annoyance. “Is she the body the reporters mentioned?”54
”She was at the party last night,” Greg supplied. “But she left just after midnight. A cab came, picked her up and I don’t know how she ended up back here.” 55
Rubbing hands over his face, Kyle exhaled. “Okay. Who do I talk with to find out what the hell is going on?” 56
Motioning with his hand, the officer led Kyle out of the house, along the small path that led past the pool, tennis court and guesthouse, coming out in a clearing that overlooked a pristine manmade lake. 57
Stopping in his tracks, Kyle stared at a group of people that were crouched around a body on the ground. One woman looked up, gave him a less than polite once over, then immediately dismissed him. 58
His friend Liam was sitting on one of the lawn chairs that had been dragged over from a fence side table, and was staring at his hands, which were covered in blood. Kyle watched as Liam accepted a towel from an officer and tried to wipe his hands clean. 59
“He found the body,” the police officer said, his tone a little more gentle than it had been in the house. “Was still trying CPR when the paramedics arrived.”60
Sighing to himself in relief that Liam had nothing to do with the death of someone, Kyle continued to look around. It was all too surreal, and in times of stress Kyle reverted to what he knew best… acting. “What’s going on?” he asked, pulling all eyes to him. 61
“I could ask you the same,” the woman who had originally dismissed him said. She stood and carefully approached, peeling see-through gloves off her hands as she walked across the lawn. “Can you explain this?” 62
“Not really, no,” Kyle told her. “As I told the officer here,” he paused to motion behind him, “I’ve been on a closed set since early last night.” 63
“How far away is this closed set?”64
”Studio Nineteen, Maxwell Pictures,” Kyle said, not really liking the insinuation that came with that question. “Look. I don’t know who she is, or why she’s dead on my lawn. I’d appreciate you doing your job and finding out why.”65
Raising an eyebrow at his manner, the woman decided to push a few buttons to see what reactions she’d get. “So, you’ve never seen her before today?”66
“Who are you?” Kyle asked. 67
“Detective Isobel Grant.” A badge was produced, then quickly put away. “So, have you?”68
”Have I what?”69
”Seen the vic before today?”70
“I don’t know,” Kyle said. “It’s possible, but if I did, I didn’t know her name until a few minutes ago.”71
“Do you usually allow people you don’t know onto your property?”72
“My friends live here, Detective,” he said coolly. “There’s probably a lot of people that come through here that I don’t know.” He glanced at the body, and could feel the façade slipping. 73
“What’s with the look?” Detective Grant asked.74
“What look?”75
”The one that’s saying ‘how long is this going to take? I have a party tonight, and I need to hose the blood off the lawn’.” 76
Finally having enough, Kyle glared at her. “Look, Detective,” he said in a deceptively calm tone. “I’ve been up all night shooting and re-shooting scenes, and I’m frigging tired. I’m not used to getting a panic call from a friend and then coming home to find nearly every reporter in the city camped out at my fence, and a dead body of someone I don’t even know on my lawn.” He paused, then took a step back.77
“I don’t know her,” he continued. “I doubt I’ve ever seen her before, and I have no idea why anyone would want to kill her, or why she would want to kill herself.”78
”Who said anyone killed her?”79
“The blood all over the grass is a pretty good indication,” he said. “Can I go, or is there anything else you’d like to grill me over?”80
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~81
“Holy fuck.” 82
The words were growled with such vehemence that it caused more than one person to stop and look. Ignoring those staring, Kyle glared at the mess that seemed to have multiplied in the time it took to walk back from the murder scene. Concentrating on the mess took enough energy to nearly banish the memory of the dead body on the lawn. 83
“Kyle,” Greg said, turning from watching the police cover every surface with some powder for fingerprints. “They need the key to your office.”84
“My-? Why?”85
“We need to check for prints,” an officer said. 86
“I’m the only one that has a key to my office,” Kyle said. He took a step back, his mind too tired to comprehend a lot of what was going on. “I can’t do this,” he muttered, and turned to go back through the large patio doors. Coming up short as a woman blocked his path, he stared at her.87
“Going someplace, Mr. Ryders?” Detective Grant asked. 88
“I need the key to his office,” the officer said from behind. “He won’t pass it over.”89
“I’m the only one with a key,” Kyle repeated. “Since I wasn’t here, there’s no need to be looking through my private things.”90
“I’ll remember to tell that to the victim’s parents.”91
“You do that,” Kyle said, his patience limit finally breached. “Look, Detective… when I’m not here, that room is locked, alarmed, and I’m the only one with a key or the combo.”92
“Why would you lock and alarm a room?”93
“To keep people out,” he replied, making it sound simplistically obvious. 94
“The key, Mr. Ryders,” she said. “Or we break the door down.”95
Kyle laughed gave a short laugh, and shook his head. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered. “This cannot be happening.” Holding out the keys, he waited until the officer took them then walked away. 96
Detective Grant watched as he crossed the room, and studied him as he stopped and looked down at a pile of things that was being tagged for investigation. Running his fingers through his hair, Kyle then turned away and came back. 97
“Could some one at least tell me what happened?” 98
Greg looked from his friend, to the detective then back. “We had a party,” he said. “Sort of an impromptu thing. Laine showed up with a few friends, asked about you, then hung around for about an hour before taking a cab back home.”99
“You said you didn’t know her,” the detective said. 100
“I don’t,” Kyle replied. He gave her a brief look, then stopped. Her eyes were about the most beautiful shade of green that he’d ever seen, and in a land of beauty, that was saying a lot. In those eyes he could read a hardness directed at him that immediately set off every alarm in his brain. 101
“Yet she asked about you.”102
“Everyone asks about me,” he replied with a sigh. “I don’t know. It’s possible I’ve seen her before, but the name doesn’t sound familiar, and I didn’t exactly take a good look outside.”103
The detective looked at Greg. “You handed over all pictures from last night?” 104
He shook his head. “No cameras allowed in the house,” he said. “Kyle’s rules.”105
Expecting the detective’s attention to return, Kyle wasn’t disappointed. “I like my privacy,” he said, trying not to sound defensive.106
“Security recording?” 107
“Already handed over,” Greg confirmed. “Look, Liam’s the security guy, and he’s always hooking up something or other, so you should ask him about anything else we might have.”108
Taking a step back, the detective nodded briefly. “Thank you.” She looked at Kyle. “Inform us if you’re planning on leaving town during this investigation.” She turned to walk away, but stopped and turned back. 109
“Tell me, gentlemen,” she said in a conversational tone. “Are you, or any of your friends fond of biting during sex?”110
“Say what?” Kyle asked, blinking.111
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~112
All things considered, things could have gone completely better than they had. Still sitting on the lawn chair, Liam Hunter stared at the blood that was still staining his hands. He had wanted to go clean up, but a detective was intent on keeping him there until he asked every question a dozen or so times. 113
“Let’s go through it one more time,” the detective asked. 114
Staring up at him, Liam sighed. “She was at the party, and left sometime around midnight. Cab came, got her, and that was it.” He paused as he noticed the other detective approaching again, this time followed by both Greg and Kyle. Grimacing at the sight of his friend, Liam went back to retelling the truth. 115
“Party broke up around three or four, and after everyone left, Davy and I made a general search to make sure no one was hanging around outside.” His gaze went back to the body that was now covered. “I thought she was sleeping or passed out first, and when I realized she wasn’t, I told Davy to call 911 and I checked her ABC’s,” he said, referring to her airways, breathing and circulation. 116
“She was still warm to the touch so I started CPR.”117
“You’re qualified?” the detective asked. 118
“Certificate’s in the house,” Liam said, tired of the detective’s questions designed to trip him up. He stood. “Look, I didn’t harm her. Hell, I tried to save her. I don’t know how she got back here, because I didn’t let her through the gate.”119
The detective glanced at his partner. “Anything?”120
Detective Grant shook her head slightly. “They seem clean.” She looked at the body, then at Kyle. “I need you to take a look and tell me if you knew her.” 121
Balking slightly, Kyle inhaled, then nodded. Walking over with the detective, he waited while the sheet was gently pulled back. He stared, amazed that the body looked like someone sleeping. Her face was pretty, with a small mouth, perky nose and high cheekbones. His eyes traveled down slightly and he took a step back when he saw multiple bite marks on her bare shoulders and upper chest. They vanished under the sheet, and he felt bile rise in his throat as his imagination worked overtime on what lay beneath. 122
Pulling his gaze back to her face, he started to shake his head, then stopped. Something about her was familiar, yet distinctly different. 123
“I hate to ask,” he said in a voice low enough so that only the detective and medical examiner could hear. “But is she a natural blonde?”124
Detective Grant looked across the body to the medical examiner, who shook his head in response. “Redhead,” came the reply.125
Closing his eyes, Kyle nodded. “I think I knew her as Michelle Lane.”126
“What?” Greg said, hearing the name. “No. It can’t be.” 127
Both detectives looked at the men. “Who is Michelle Lane?” Detective Grant asked.128
“Met her when we first moved out here,” Kyle said, his gaze still on the woman’s still face. “She had this wild red hair, all sorts of piercing, and dressed like… well, in her words, a punk trash-bitch.”129
“And you knew her?”130
The underlying question irked him and he finally looked away. “I knew her,” he said. “We all did. She used to hang out at the same places we did, and was always trying to worm her way into someone’s house so she could wear out her welcome.” 131
“And did she?” 132
Kyle shrugged. “She stayed for about a week, then I noticed things missing, so she was asked to leave.” 133
“And where did she sleep during this week?”134
“She slept on the couch,” Kyle said, finally moving from the body. He glanced as the sheet was returned to cover the face. “Last I heard, she moved back to Las Vegas.”
Author notes
Check my disclaimer on the list page. 
In a list
A contest entry
- The Oscars 2009 - Best Characterization by Asfand.
700 points, ended July 22, 4 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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Duuuude! This was awesome!
I love the back and forth with the detective. She does come off a little bitchy but I guess when you're trying to solve a murder you can't be a princess. Also, being in Hollywood I'm sure she deals with douchey celebs all the time, that can leave a person jaded. Great beginning to a story, I am so going to read more. Not a single grammar/technical flaw that I could spot (and I tried!).
Only two things bugged me. One was the locked door. Could they really break it down w/o a warrant to search that specific room? Again, I don't know all the legalities of a murder investigation and how much freedom they have to search but it just seemed odd to me. Although, now that I think about it, she could have been bluffing. Two, wouldn't he call his attorney/agent/publicist etc. like all famous people? I guess it could come up in later chapters.
Once again fantastic.
Jack
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Thanks
As I mentioned in my disclaimer on the list page, I know Jack (no offence 
) about the way Hollywood works, or the police. This on is written for fun.... and with a huge amount of liberties taken. 
...but yes, calling the agent would be wise... and the agent does appear later. (and yes, Izzy is a wee bit bitch-ish... she was bluffing about the door... sort of a 'if he really fights it, then he's hiding something' type of thinking.)
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I think this was pretty good, but the dialogue was missing a little pace and action. But the character you developed was pretty good... I would read more of this, but I can't judge this contest based on anything other than this piece of writing, not the other parts.
I enjoyed this piece and wish you the best luck in the contest. I hope to read more of this after the contest has ended, so that I can read the chapters without having to judge them.
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My favorite part about this is that it not only focuses on developing the main character, but also on developing the story, and doing both amazingly without punking out on either.
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This story/poem is hereby officially accepted as a nomination for the SW Oscars. Congratulations on your nomination! You will be notified [via IM] to submit this story in its specific category when the contest opens. Congratulations, once again! Keep up the excellent work!
Admin
SW Oscars -
First off, I love the name Geoff Saturn! It's so... Hollywood tacky. And, uh, it happens to be my husband's name, and I'm assuming this is why you asked if I'd mind a character named Geoff.
If I didn't know that you never watch Entourage, I'd mention that this has soem similarities. But that's okay... Hollywood is a flaky place. Although, not sure of any actors that would be that chummy with the director.
Wow. Izzy seems a little caustic.
Nice introduction of the characters. You didn't go overboard and drown the reader with backrounds or description that would take away from the flow.
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I actually do watch Entourage now... started when I got VOD a couple weeks ago.(AFTER I started this story, of course)
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Wow Barbara... I think this is probably one of the first stories I've read from you You are a great Nova Scotian Writer (The only other one I know is Don Aker).
Overall, I thought this story was extremely well written. I was easily able to picture the scene at the movie set, outside his house, the tennis court, and even the lake it overlooked.
While the images were realistic and pure, your characters were understandable and believable. Already they have unique personalities and styles, and are very entertaining to read about.
I didn't note any grammatical or spelling errors, and the only criticism I could give is to detail more emotions. Rather than saying "he asked," write "he asked hesitantly," or "he asked, confused."
On a final note, I plan on following this series. It seems very enjoyable and I'm glad to finally read something great from Nova Scotia
All the best,
Kevan.
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Thanks
This is going to be one of those novels/stories that are written purely for fun. It's going to be cliched in the good sense, and have all the elements of a good murder mystery from the '50s.
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Edited... I really like the humor inserted, the flow, the description, the characters, the mystery plot, and dialogues. They gripped me. From the description, I know what the characters are doing, feeling, perhaps thinking, etc. It makes me want to continue reading the story
P.s. I really like the way you wrote this story-so I think I got ahead of myself in my initial comment-sorry...
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Tnank you. Good critiques are always welcome. I try to put description in without having massive paragraphs telling everythng, and hopefully I've managed to pull it off.
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