Page 20 of I Did Something Bad
“Not… exactly,” she says in the same protracted tone as earlier. “Basically—” She coughs, like the rest of the sentence is lodged in her throat. “The coroner put the time of death between midnight and sevenA.M.The body was discovered around eight.” When she says, “The water damage is making the investigation difficult,” my knees almost buckle in relief. That small, sweet moment is quickly snatched away by her next words: “They think he was murdered.”
My gut gives out like I’m free-falling off of the world’s highest roller coaster.
“They don’t think it was an accident? Maybe he was drunk and fell over?” Tyler offers.
Yasmin shakes her head. “They’re saying it’s murder because they found scratch marks on his face. And bruises as well, although that might have been from hitting himself on the bridge as he fell over. But there was also some sort of injury in one of his ears. Looks like he might’ve been stabbed there, although we’re waiting on the official autopsy report to confirm this.”
“Damn.” Tyler exhales, tugging a palm down his face. “Okay, do they think one of the cameras caught something? Because we didn’t start shooting until six. We can hand over the footage if—”
“Tyler.” Yasmin says his name like a mother preparing a child for devastating news. “We closed off the park at noon.”
Tyler takes a second, his eyes darting around as he processes the information. “Butthisguy got in.”
“Yes, and they checked all the park security footage and saw him sneaking in past the entrance on the other side when the guard on duty went to the bathroom—”
“So it’s possible that someone else—”
“He was the only person who entered via that entrance all day. They’ve gone through all the footage on all of the cameras except…”
Tyler shakes his head. “Except what?”
“Except the ones thatwehad them turn off. Onourside of the park. And the only people who were allowed in through our entrance wasourpeople. We had five guards there.”
“I’m… not following,” he says, not fidgeting in the slightest. If I didn’t know firsthand that Tyler knew what he knew,Iwould believe his performance, and the knowledge that I would be just as gullible as Yasmin is now if he ever decided to lie tomyface doesn’t sit well—but I can’t contend with that fear right this moment.
“Tyler—” Yasmin sighs again. I feel a surge of pity for this poor woman who just wanted to shoot a rom-com with two of Hollywood’s biggest stars, and is now having to inform one of said stars what he and I already know: somebody got murdered last night, and the police know the culprit was—is—part of the movie crew. “They think it’s someone from the set.”
“That’s absurd!” Tyler says with a bark of laughter. “Loadsof other people were there! The park cleaning staff—”
“All left through the other entrance, and every single one of them was gone before the man entered the park. The cameras accounted for all of them. The only people in the park at the time were us.”
“So what are you saying?” Tyler asks with another half laugh, like surely there’s a miscommunication here. “The police are here to, what, arrest us?”
In a feeble attempt to blend in, I mimic Tyler’s laugh, although mine peters out in a sharp downturn. Thankfully, Yasmin joins in, snorting as though it’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard, more ridiculous than the idea that she might be working with a potential murderer. “Oh god, no!” she says. “Please, I would have our legal team here so fast they wouldn’t know what hit them. But they do want totalk to us. And in terms of the movie, this does throw a wrench into our shooting schedule. We’re trying to iron everything out ASAP, but our on-location shoots are called off for the foreseeable future. We’re going to be in this lot”—without looking, she points behind her—“until we’ve been given the all-clear. Legal doesn’t want to take any chances. The police will talk to you two in a couple of hours if that’s okay?”
I swear my heart outright stops beating. “The two of us?” Tyler asks.
“They asked me for a timeline of as much as I could remember from yesterday, and I mentioned that Khin had left early and that you escorted her out. I think they just want to double-check with you both that you didn’t see anything as you were making your way back to the car.”
In the most casual fashion, Tyler shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets like he’s heard everything that Yasmin has said, but doesn’t see how any of it affects him in any way whatsoever. “Okay,” he says. “I can talk, as long as it’s between takes.”
“I—”
“I think this is an absurd accusation, especially because everyone was so exhausted last night we barely had enough time to use the bathroom, let alone go murder a man, but I get that they’re doing their job. But similarly”—he waves over at the people striding around the lot—“wehave jobs to do, too. There are a lot of hardworking people on this set who were here long before we were, and will have to stay behind for hours after we leave. And unless the police are going to personally pay for their overtime, I’m not going to make this team work even longer hours than they already are. And if they have a problem with that, thenIcan call Legal.”
There’s a pause during which I worry that Yasmin is going to snap at him or, for some reason, turn to me and ask if I saw anything.I suddenly become aware of my posture, specifically, how quiet and hunched over I am, like I’m cowering with guilt, so I straighten my back, and—because who better to take cues from than a professional actor—put my hands in my own pockets like I’m chill, casual, innocent, just a woman hanging out while those in charge clear up this small, unfortunate hiccup.
At last, Yasmin nods and spins on her heels. “Send hair and makeup to his trailer. Is May ready?” she asks one of the staff who begins talking into their headset.
I seem to have loaded lead into my sneakers when I got dressed, because my feet will not move. I don’t notice Tyler hanging back until he shifts close enough to me and, now that everyone else is already scrambling back toward the main area, places a hand on the small of my back.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, and gives me the gentlest of nudges. It works. My feet remember how to walk.
“How?” I ask.
“We’ll figure it out.”
“How?” It’s a demand more than an ask this time.
