Fame Is A Killer

  Fame Is A Killer

  Meredith Potts

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter One

  I stared down the murder suspect who was squirming in her chair in front of me. Fiona Bolton looked for a way to wriggle out of this situation, but there was none. I had her right where I wanted her and wasn’t about to let her off the hook.

  Instead, I turned up the heat on her. “Stop the lies. Not only did you kill your husband, but I know how you did it. After discovering that your husband, Steve, was having an affair with Wendy Zebb, on the night of his birthday party, you ordered a sheet cake from Zebb’s Bakery. Then, when it came time to serve dessert, you made sure that your husband ended up with the slice of cake that you had doctored with poison. You were convinced that the police would discover traces of the poison in the cake and would suspect Wendy or Arthur Zebb of murdering your husband. By implicating the Zebbs, you thought you’d be able to get away with murder, but I know the truth. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Fiona tried to hold strong.

  I went after her again. “Aren’t I?”

  Fiona couldn’t stop from cracking as she saw me and Detective Eager glaring at her.

  Finally, the truth spilled out of her mouth. “Fine. I admit it. I killed him. I poisoned that cake. He deserved to die after what he did to me. I gave my heart to him. I was always there for him. I trusted him, and he betrayed that trust. As far as I’m concerned, he got what was coming to him. I don’t regret what I did in the least.”

  I folded my arms and narrowed my eyes at her. “Let’s see if you start regretting what you did when you’re in prison.”

  “Take her away,” Detective Eager said.

  A police deputy then handcuffed Fiona and hauled her away.

  With Fiona now in custody, Detective Eager turned to me.

  “You did it again,” the detective said. He shook his head in disbelief. “That’ll teach me to doubt you. I don’t know how you do it.”

  I got a gleam in my eyes. “Are you kidding, Detective? This case was a piece of cake.”

  I then held my position, waiting for a cue from the director, who was watching us from the edge of the television set we were standing on.

  A moment of silence followed, then I heard the very word that I had been loathing all day.

  “Cut,” the director yelled. “That’s a wrap.”

  I stood on my mark and looked around the TV studio at the cast and crew that were assembled in the soundstage and couldn’t believe it was really over. We had just finished filming the series finale of the television show Sassy Sleuth. That was our last scene. I couldn’t believe it.

  For the last seven years, I, Hope Hadley, had played the lead role of Victoria Sassy, a bookstore owner turned amateur sleuth who solved a new murder case each week. Now, instead of being Hope Hadley, TV star, I was Hope Hadley, newly unemployed actress. The network’s recent cancellation of the show had come completely out of left field.

  I, along with the rest of the cast and crew of Sassy Sleuth, had gone into filming this episode thinking it would be the season seven finale, but the network had pulled the plug on our show at the last minute, turning this episode into the series finale. Everyone was still in shock over the network’s decision—although, me more than anyone else.

  “I can’t believe it’s actually over,” I said.

  Grant Jennings, the mustached, middle-aged actor who played Detective Eager on the show, turned to me.

  “Don’t remind me. I have been seeing my shrink every day since I got the news of our cancellation,” he replied.

  “Is it helping?” I asked.

  “Only to drain my wallet,” he deadpanned.

  “I’m sorry about that.” I let out a deep sigh. “I still can’t believe this is the end.”

  “You’re telling me. When I got news that the network had canned our show, I had just gotten done putting a nonrefundable deposit down on a new boat.” He groaned. “Coincidentally, you’re not in the market for a new speed boat, are you?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  Grant grumbled at me, exasperated. “Just my luck.”

  I tried to lift his spirits. “Hey, maybe you’ll land a new role soon.”

  He scoffed. “At my age? I can’t even get shot in this town anymore. Hollywood isn’t kind to actors over forty.”

  “Would a little optimism kill you?”

  “I’m too old for optimism,” he barked.

  “Well, I’m still holding out hope,” I said.

  “Good for you.” Grant then shuffled away. “I need a drink.”

  ***

  Grant wasn’t the only one in a lousy mood. There was plenty of low morale to go around. The majority of the cast and crew started dispersing, leaving the set looking like a ghost town. They seemed to be in a hurry to get away, to move on, but I couldn’t. I stood dead in my tracks, staring at the soundstage that had been my acting home for the last seven years, wondering how things could have fallen apart so quickly.

  While I was caught up in my wistful thoughts, my friend and costar on the show, Jenna Norton, approached. On the show, Jenna had played the character of Trisha Tomlin, Victoria Sassy’s feisty pastry chef best friend and sidekick who always had sage advice when my character needed it the most.

  In real life, Jenna was a thirty-six-year-old brunette with hazel eyes, a round face, and a tall, trim body. We were best friends both on and off screen, but unlike with the TV show, I couldn’t think of any words of encouragement she could share with me in real life right then that would cheer me up.

  “What a tough day,” Jenna said.

  “You’re telling me. Seven amazing years, and it’s over just like that,” I replied.

  She put her hand on my shoulder. “You’ll get another role.”

  “By the way, congratulations on that new part you just landed,” I said.

  Unlike me, Jenna already had another role lined up. She would be playing the sidekick on a new medical drama that was premiering in the fall. While she would much rather have gotten the lead, she was counting her blessings that she was able to get another part so quickly.

  Jenna smiled back at me. “Yeah. I got really lucky.”

  “You deserve it.”

  My friend got wrapped up in the somber look on my face and tried to cheer me up.

  “Your next break will come, too,” Jenna said.

  “I hope so,” I replied.

  “I know so. You’re a great actress.”

  It was safe to say that the depressing conversation I had just finished with Grant had gotten to me. It was hard not to let pessimism take hold.

  “Unfortunately, show biz success isn’t always about having the most talent. I don’t like to admit it, but like Grant said, Hollywood isn’t kind to actors over forty,” I said.

  “Hope, don’t believe that rumor about the show being canceled because of your age,” Jenna insisted.

  I corrected my friend. “I have it on good authority that it’s more than a rumor. I’ll tell you this—regardless of what the network claims, this show definitely wasn’t canned because of low ratings.”

  “I know it’s a sore spot, but what’s done is done. You can’t ch
ange it.”

  I didn’t heed her advice. “No, the real sore spot is that I heard the network is replacing our show with a new detective show about an eighteen-year-old investigative prodigy.”

  In my mind, the only thing worse than my show being canceled because the network thought I was too old to headline a TV show was to replace it with a new one featuring a lead character that was half my age.

  Jenna tried to calm me down. “Stewing about what happened in the past isn’t going to help your future any.”

  It was ironic that Jenna had tried to use one of Victoria Sassy’s most famous lines from the TV show as a way to cheer me up.

  “That was easy for Victoria Sassy to say. She’ll live on forever in reruns. I have to start over from scratch.”

  Jenna kept trying to cheer me up. “You’ll find something.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I just have a good feeling.”

  “I’m glad one of us does.”

  Jenna stared deep into my eyes and tried one last time to talk some sense into me. “Hope Hadley. I never thought I’d have to say this to you, but don’t lose hope.”

  “You’re right.”

  Jenna smiled. “Of course I am.”

  “I just need some time to piece my life back together,” I said.

  “Don’t take too much time. The wrap party is in half an hour,” Jenna replied.

  Chapter Two

  The wrap party was the last thing on my mind. I headed back to my trailer and tried to decompress. Part of me foolishly didn’t want to change out of my Victoria Sassy wardrobe, as if staying in the clothes of my character would somehow change the fact that the show was no more.

  It was just so hard to say good-bye. To me, this hadn’t just been an acting role. It was possibly the role of my lifetime. It had certainly been my career for seven years. Deep down, I knew that the show could have easily kept going for seven more seasons if the network hadn’t pulled the plug.

  I looked into the mirror at my long blond hair, my blue eyes, my oval face, and my toned body. What I saw staring back at me wasn’t an actress who was too old to headline a TV show. If anything, I thought I looked young for my age. I was forty years old but didn’t look the part. I thought I could easily pass for thirty-five, but what did I know? Maybe I was just deluding myself.

  At the same time, no one asked me what I thought, especially not Hollywood. As I continued to look at my reflection in the mirror, I didn’t think I looked any different. To me, I was still the same Hope Hadley as ever. I hadn’t changed. It was just Hollywood’s opinion of me that had shifted. That was the hardest thing to grapple with—the fact that my fate was out of my control.

  While I was deep in thought, a phone call from my agent, Larry Leibowitz, brought me back to reality. For the first time all day, I felt excited. Larry had been frantically at work trying to land me another role. I didn’t care if it was a movie, TV show, or commercial—anything, really. Hopefully, he was calling with good news.

  “Larry, please tell me you found me something,” I said.

  I heard him let out a big sigh on the other end of the phone line. “I wish that was the case.”

  It would have been easy to fall into despair. Instead, I took Jenna’s advice and tried reaching for hope.

  “Any bright spots? Leads? Anything?”

  Larry was usually a straight shooter. That evening, hesitation was in his voice.

  “Larry—”

  He blurted out his answer. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s over.”

  “What do you mean, over?”

  “I mean, no one is biting. I can’t scare up anything for you. A TV part, commercial, or even a voice-acting gig.”

  “But, I don’t understand. How could no one be interested in hiring me? It’s not like I’m a pill to work with. Sarah Quinn is off throwing temper tantrums on the set of her show and making millions.”

  “Sarah Quinn is also twenty-six.”

  “So, you’re telling me this is an age thing, then?”

  This wasn’t doing anything to help my insecurity. Instead, as a middle-aged actress, it was my worst fear coming to life.

  Larry groaned. “It’s just a tough business.”

  “How could there be no roles for me in all of Hollywood?”

  “I didn’t make up the rules. This is just how show biz works.”

  “I just can’t believe this.”

  “Hope, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but you can’t change Hollywood. And, like it or not, Tinseltown thinks you’re over the hill.”

  He had uttered the dreaded phrase that made me seethe.

  “Over the hill? I’m only forty years old,” I said.

  “Hope, trust me, as a fifty-seven-year-old man, that fact isn’t lost on me. Unfortunately, the rules are different for agents than they are for actresses,” Larry replied.

  I pleaded my case. “But Larry, I still know how to act. I show up on time, I have all my lines memorized, and I’m willing to throw my heart into whatever role I can get, no matter how big or small.”

  My agent didn’t budge. “I know that, and you know that, but Hollywood operates by its own rules.”

  I got a head full of steam. “No. This can’t be the end. I could be great in something if someone would just give me the chance.”

  “I know you would. Unfortunately, no one in the industry seems to be willing to take that chance.”

  I groaned.

  My frustration wasn’t getting me anywhere. At the same time, I wondered how much Larry was truly advocating for me. He seemed to have given up on my career already, which was strange considering he only got paid his ten percent commission if he was able to secure me another part.

  I decided to take a different approach. Perhaps buttering Larry up and massaging his ego a little would get him to ramp up his efforts to land me a new role.

  “Come on, Larry. You’re the best agent in the business. If anyone can get my career back on track, it’s you. I know you can find something for me,” I said.

  “Look. Just have fun at the wrap party. I’ll see what I can do,” Larry replied.

  Even though he hadn’t promised anything, it at least seemed like he was willing to make another effort. While I would have liked a little enthusiasm on his part, at least he hadn’t given up completely. Either way, I was forced to play the waiting game.

  Chapter Three

  While I was still trying to fight off the fear that my acting career could be over, Jenna swung by my trailer.

  “Are you ready to head out to the wrap party?” she asked.

  By that point, I had finally managed to change out of my Victoria Sassy wardrobe but wasn’t feeling very festive.

  “It seems surreal to be having a party at a time like this,” I said.

  Jenna attempted to lift my spirits. “Parties make everything better.”

  I forced a smile. “I hope you’re right.”

  She tried to wave me along. “Come on.”

  Jenna was in better spirits. Then again, she had a new acting role to look forward to. She also had the benefit of not having turned forty. Luckily for her, she was still four years away from reaching that career-killing artificial expiration date in Hollywood’s eyes.

  As I turned to Jenna, I was reminded of what a good friend she was. She seemed determined to cheer me up no matter what. And hey, maybe she was right. Perhaps a party was just what I needed after all.

  Jenna and I exited my trailer and began walking to my parking spot on the studio lot. Before I had the chance to reach my car, I spotted my boyfriend approaching us.

  Trent Harper was a fellow actor—quite a successful one, might I add. He was a tall, square-jawed thirty-nine-year-old man with a lean figure and movie star good looks.

  His soap opera, As The Drama Churns, filmed on the same studio lot as mine did. Or, that mine used to. I was still trying to get a hang of the fact that I didn’t have a show anymore. Or a job, for that ma
tter.

  In a strange twist of fate, while I was now out of work, Trent’s star was rising. He had just landed the lead role in a new police procedural show called Detective Mayhem and would be leaving his soap opera shortly. In Detective Mayhem, Trent had been cast as a quirky yet brilliant middle-aged sleuth. Much to both my befuddlement and my frustration, it turned out that Hollywood didn’t have the same age problem with men as it did with women. Go figure.

  Instead of becoming fixated on that double standard, I gave my boyfriend a smile.

  “Hey there, stranger,” I said.

  “Hey. Can I talk to you for a second—alone?” Trent asked.

  I nodded at Trent then turned to Jenna.

  “I’ll catch up with you,” I said.

  “Don’t take too long,” Jenna replied. “Otherwise, all the best hors d’oeuvres will be gone by the time you get there.”

  My friend then kept walking to the parking lot while I brought Trent back to my trailer.

  I then turned to my boyfriend, hoping to see some comfort in his eyes.

  “I’ll bet your day went better than mine,” I said.

  “I don’t doubt that,” he replied.

  What an odd response. Not so much the wording, as Trent’s body language. When I was feeling low, I could always count on Trent to lift my spirits. He had the kind of warm smile and soothing voice that made me feel like everything was going to be okay.

  This time, I did not get that sense from him. I couldn’t figure out why, of all the times for him to be distant with me, he had chosen the exact moment when I needed him the most. After all, the man was an actor—he was practically born to emote.

  The only thing I could think was that maybe he had gotten some bad news of his own before coming over to see me. The troubled expression on his face seemed to be foreshadowing something to that effect. Had the network executives changed their mind about picking up his new show? Had they decided to recast the lead role? Or was it something else?

  I tried to get him to warm up to me by draping my arms over his shoulders and giving him a kiss.