“How did funding work, exactly?” Roz asked, snapping photos.
“We had a contract and an escrow account we were both supposed to contribute to,” Sebastian replied. “Only he provided the lawyer who was supposed to oversee it, and I think the guy wasn’t totally honest. Because Wayne hadn’t invested his share by the time he died, even though we’d signed the agreement. I blame myself for taking him at his word.”
“What happens now that he’s dead?” Alden asked.
“That’s a good question. I need to ask my lawyer to look at the agreement,” Sebastian said. “I know I should’ve paid more attention, but I never foresaw any of this happening—Wayne flaking on me and then him dying.”
They walked on for a minute toward the odd structures before Roz asked, “Is that the movie street you told me about? If the warehouse isn’t interesting, maybe we could see the set.”
“‘Set’ is a strong word. I’ll show you what we’ve got. It’s not much.” The builder led them forward. As they rounded the curve, more of the colorful structures came into view.
They were—houses. Only something wasn’t quite right about them. They were cute—a cottage with white siding, a two-story brick affair, a yellow stucco bungalow, all with colorful trim—set close together on a paved road. They looked plucked from an idyllic suburban neighborhood, complete with green lawns (fake grass, Alden thought), pretty landscaping, a sidewalk and mailboxes. But the paved “street” stopped several feet beyond them on either side. And a fourth “house” stood half-built, a fraction of facade surrounded by wood framing, with nothing behind it at all.
It became clear as they got closer that the three perfect houses were also illusions, fancy fronts with convincing side walls and partial roofs, if you didn’t look at them from too much of an angle. With no dressing on the windows, it was easy to peer inside and see that the empty indoor spaces stopped a few feet beyond the front walls.
Sebastian halted in the middle of the paved street. “We had plans to build them out, make real buildings with some interior locations as well as exteriors. Add to the street, maybe make a town square.”
“Like a real backlot,” Alden said. “That’s ambitious.”
Sebastian caught Alden’s skeptical tone. “Like I told Roz, movies aren’t my business. I trusted Wayne. I have no idea if this would’ve worked. If filmmakers would come here.”
Roz seemed fascinated. “These look great, even if you didn’t finish them. We have a lot of beautiful locations in the area, too. I could totally see this working. I mean, if it was ever completed. But I’m not in the biz either.”
“There you go,” Sebastian said. “It’s easy to forget the practicalities. I’m not a creative type, but the idea caught my imagination. Maybe I got in too deep.”
“Mind if I walk around to take some pictures?” she asked.
“Go ahead.” Sebastian waved a hand at the mini street.
So she did, snapping Sebastian talking in front of the structures, getting a few shots from the back to show the illusion. Finally, she asked, “Are there any other sets or locations?”
“This property goes all the way to the lagoon, but we haven’t done much with it yet. There’s a small lake and a wooded area. Both would be great for filming, or so I was told.” Sebastian seemed resigned to his “studio” becoming a ghost town.
Yet Alden could see how he’d been enticed to build this. He, too, could imagine movies shooting here. “We’d love to see the rest.”
“It would involve hiking through the scrub,” Sebastian answered. “I’d rather we didn’t.”
“Oh, well.” Roz stuffed her camera back in her bag. “Too bad we don’t have a drone. We could shoot it from above.”
Sebastian’s face lit up. “I can do you one better. Want to fly over it?”
Chapter Fourteen
“This day has taken a turn.” Roz couldn’t hide her excitement as Alden drove them toward Comet Cove Airport, following Sebastian’s SUV. They were back on the paved road, and Sebastian had locked up the nascent movie studio.
“Did you know he was a pilot?” Alden asked.
“I had no idea, but how could we turn down his offer?”
“Flying over the site is not strictly necessary for the story, but I suppose it’ll be good photos.”
Roz looked over at him, sensing something else in his tone. “Are you nervous?”
Alden shrugged, focusing on the road. “I’m more comfortable in boats than small airplanes.”
“Even after—you know?” She flashed back on an unfortunate boat ride during the pursuit of their last big story.
He humphed. “Yes. Boats don’t fall out of the sky.”
