Video Kill Read Online Free

shoot immediately, but he would have to rush to complete his cinema verité in time for a Christmas release. Would it be wiser to delay shooting for a few months and plan on a definite summer debut?
    Brother pondered the question as he finished his appetizer. The waiter had just served his entrée, the aroma was exquisite, when he reached a decision. Summer release, winter release, it made no real difference. The strength of his concept would guarantee its success.
    An hour later Brother was at home, in his mother’s five-bedroom, two-story, Queen Anne–style home, which sat on a choice lot in Beverly Hills. He still lived and worked in the “children’s wing” upstairs, a bedroom, a bath, and a huge playroom-turned-office, which his mother had designed for him thirty years ago. The downstairs had been his mother’s domain, and the housekeeper still cleaned it regularly, dusting the delicate china figurines and polishing the expensive antique furniture. Nothing had been altered since the day of his mother’s death, and Brother kept entirely to his own section of the house. The children’s wing had a separate entrance, and it was perfectly adequate for his needs.
    Brother sat at his desk and sipped a small cognac. He had checked his equipment and everything was ready. A video camera was tucked into his carrying bag, along with a shooting script for the first scene. The Academy Players Directory lay open on his desk, and brother felt a surge of excitement as he examined the picture of his actress again. She was an unknown, but she was perfect for this first, starring role. Sharee Lyons might not realize it, but she would earn her place with the immortals tonight.
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    It was past eleven at night when the crosstown bus dropped Sharee Lyons at the stop on Sunset Boulevard. Sharee, who had “startling sea-green eyes” and “shining hair the color of pale moonlight” according to her, sat down on the slatted bench and switched to old tennis shoes for the eight-block walk to her apartment. Then she tucked the gold, spike-heeled sandals she’d borrowed from a girl in her acting class into her tote bag and dashed across the busy intersection.
    As Sharee turned down a side street, she clutched her beaded evening bag tightly to her chest. There was a crisp hundred dollar bill inside, her tip for serving canapés and displaying her perfectly capped smile at a producer’s party in Beverly Hills. It had been a lucrative evening, and the producer had given her an ounce of caviar, a bottle of domestic champagne, and an invitation to come to an audition tomorrow for a small part in the series he was currently taping.
    Firecrackers rattled in the distance as Sharee hurried past the once-stately apartments south of the boulevard. The Fourth of July was going out with a bang. There had been a huge display of fireworks at the party, but Sharee had been too busy serving hors d’oeuvres to see much of it. If she did well at the audition tomorrow, she might be attending the same party next year as a bona fide guest.
    The Regency Palms was at the end of the block. Sharee cut through the deserted courtyard and took the crushed gravel walkway that led to the middle building. Plastic potted palms lined the narrow path at four-foot intervals, and she was careful not to brush up against the thick layer of grime that covered their fronds. Her gold lamé blouse was also borrowed, and she’d have to pay a dry cleaning bill if she got it dirty.
    There was a sack of garbage on the bottom step, which Sharee dropped in the Dumpster before she climbed the concrete stairs to her second-floor apartment. She could hardly wait to get into some comfortable clothes and practice the scene the producer had given her. For once she didn’t have to worry about being quiet while she rehearsed. Her neighbor in 19B was traveling for a week with his band, and the young actress on the other side