Poppy Harmon and the Pillow Talk Killer by Lee Hollis (famous ebook reader .txt) 📗

“Tanya Roberts was the Bond girl,” Pam said dismissively. “I would have been so much better.”

Poppy suddenly remembered that Pam had made a splash her first week moving to Hollywood from Boise, Idaho, when she was literally plucked off a movie line and screen-tested for Charlie’s Angels to replace Shelley Hack, who had been unceremoniously fired after the fourth season. Although she came close to snagging the coveted role, the producers ultimately had gone with another actress—Tanya Roberts. Poppy was certain that Pam’s career disappointment was coloring her opinion. Ms. Roberts could have delivered a performance on the scale of Sissy Spacek, Jessica Lange, or Meryl Streep, and Pam still would have thought she was lackluster.

There was a knock at the door of the trailer and a chubby, scruffy-faced, curly-haired, eager kid in his early twenties pushed his way inside. “Ms. Harmon, they’re ready for you on set.”

Poppy stood up. “Thank you, Dolly. See you out there, Pam.”

Dolly gave her a friendly wave as she got to work on primping Pam for the scene.

The rotund young production assistant held the door open for her and then hustled alongside Poppy as they hurried toward the set in silence.

Finally the kid seemed to work up the nerve to speak. “You were very good in that last scene, Ms. Harmon.”

“Oh, thank you . . .”

Poppy stopped midsentence. She could never remember the kid’s name. Was it Henry? Hank? She felt terrible. He had been working on the show for a couple of weeks already and she was usually good at memorizing everyone’s names on the crew. He was waiting for her to say it so she just took a stab in the dark. “. . . Hank.”

“Harold,” the kid corrected her with a grin. “Harold Lawson.”

At least he did not appear to be insulted by her memory lapse.

Searching for another topic to discuss, Harold asked Poppy if she had read the paper this morning to which she replied she hadn’t. Harold then went on breathlessly about how the police were still frantically searching for the man known as the Pillow Talk Killer, how he smothered his two victims, at least so far, and how he had probably seen both of them on television.

“There hasn’t been a crime that’s gripped LA so much since the Manson murders back in 1969,” Harold said. “It’s all anyone is talking about.”

Harold continued his dissertation, recounting to Poppy his disconcerting knowledge of the crime scenes and how the killer had so far left no clues that might lead to his capture.

“He’s a cunning SOB,” Harold remarked.

Poppy tensed, then smiled, and said gently, “Harold, I’m sorry, can we talk about something else?”

“Of course,” he said, chastised. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She felt bad cutting him off. But she also found the entire conversation utterly distasteful, and it was souring her mood, and she needed to focus on her performance in the upcoming scene.

Mercifully, Harold switched topics to the weather and the impending heatwave that was going to melt Los Angeles by the weekend.

They arrived on the set of a remote cabin in the woods where Poppy’s character, Daphne, was being held hostage by two escaped convicts, Butch and Smitty, and Butch’s girlfriend, the aforementioned Bloody Mary played by Pam. The well-known character actor Norman Alden was in the Butch role and a young up-and-coming newcomer fresh from New York and Stella Adler’s acting workshops, Kevin, was playing Smitty. Kevin was a heartbreaker, handsome face, playful brown eyes, a boyish grin and a gym-toned body. He had been shamelessly flirting with Poppy all week, which she admittedly enjoyed but did not take too seriously. As hard as Kevin tried, Poppy chose not to give him the time of day. Mostly because as much as she tried to deny it, her heart was elsewhere, specifically her co-star Rod Harper. During the audition process for Jack Colt, she had had a mild crush, figuring every girl auditioning probably developed one on Rod. When she got cast in the part and they began shooting the show, the crush morphed into full-blown romantic feelings. And now, as they entered their second season of the show, Poppy just did her best to keep her feelings under wraps. Rod, after all, was an infamous man about town, found most weekends cavorting with the Playboy bunnies at Hugh Hefner’s mansion. He certainly was not relationship material, and Poppy had long made peace with that.

Still, when they were posing for that TV Guide cover, he had been so focused on her, so interested. A small part of her could not help but suspect the feeling might, just might, be mutual. Of course, she would never be brave enough to come out and ask him. If she was wrong, it could harm the chemistry they shared and alter the dynamic of their working relationship. She just could not take that chance.

Pam soon appeared and they all waited for Jack to finally burst out of his dressing room. After a ten-minute wait with Poppy yawning and checking her watch, fearing Jack’s tardiness would lead to them shooting the scene late into the night, Jack finally sauntered onto the set, ready to shoot. He was in military-style cargo pants, shirtless, and brandishing an intimidating prop knife. The scene they were about to shoot was the typical “Jack rescues Daphne” scene, she in peril, he flying in at the last second to save her. They had done this scene in a number of variations about a dozen times already, but the viewers loved it. As a self-avowed feminist, Poppy cringed at the sexism of her role, but today, at least she got to fight back, according to the script, by slinging hot coffee in Bloody Mary’s face when Jack blows through the door in a surprise attack.

A couple of crew members hosed Jack down since in the previous scene, shot a few days earlier on location in Big