Chapter 6

It happened inadvertently. By that, I mean Amelia living in my house. The night was cool. We’d finally been blessed with a breeze, so I’d left my bedroom double doors open. I liked fresh air and Los Angeles’ version of cold was Clinton, Ohio’s version of late spring. Gauzy curtains rustled quietly with the breeze coming in from the patio.

Yet, despite it refreshing me, I hadn’t been able to sleep; my mind preoccupied with a new film in development, the script for which I was still wrestling with. Thus, when flashing red strobe lights briefly lit my ceiling, I became curious.

Rising from bed, I glanced out the window. The lights were coming from next door. Worried something might have happened to Amelia, I pulled on a pair of jeans and headed out.

In the Masterton’s drive, a police car and an ambulance had their lights flashing; red and amber lighting the front garden turning blue blossoms black. At the bottom of their drive, a fire truck sat, with firemen patiently waiting. What had happened?

Running up the drive, I was just in time to see medics wheel out a stretcher, Harold Masterton wearing an oxygen mask. Following close behind, Betty emerged from the front door looking flustered and worried in a rumpled dress.