Mistaken Identity by M.A. De Neve

Mistaken Identity by M.A. De Neve

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” the funeral director shook Laura Shane’s hand.

“Thanks, so much,” she said. He’d been a godsend. Laura didn’t know what she’d have done without his kind help arranging her sister’s funeral. Her sister, a widow without children, had died in a fall. There had been no one else to make the arrangements and Laura hadn’t been able to immediately take time off her soap opera duties. The show’s writers had to do some quick rewrites, so she could get the needed time off. She’d had to do two days of filming before she could take off for Michigan and attend to the funeral and burial.

“My wife and I are big fans,” the funereal director told her.

Would he ask for an autograph? She’d have give him a dozen autographs if he asked. He’d been so helpful.

But she was exhausted and anxious to get home.

She needed to get back to the fictional town of Echo Falls and start causing trouble again. Truth be told she loved her role. Her character was vastly different than she was. That made the role fun.

She hadn’t been close to her sister. They exchanged phone calls for holidays and birthdays. They got along, but Alice was ten years older than Laura. Still they were sisters and she felt a sadness, like she hadn’t felt since their parents died.

The funeral was over, and the burial was over. A real estate agent would take over sale of the house. There’d be an estate sale. All of that would be handled by business professionals.

Before she got in her car, she looked around at the rows of one-family homes that surrounded the funeral home. How many Dead of Night fans lived here? She came into their homes every day in her role as Gina Marsh, a woman America loved to hate.

But few fans knew she was here in Michigan. She’d asked the newspaper obituary writer to print her old name, Laura Marquetti. That way no one would know the dead woman’s sister was a famous actress. The few neighbors and friends who attended the funeral had, of course, recognized her, but they hadn’t made a fuss. Laura appreciated that.

Mrs. Jannsen, one of her sister’s neighbors, made one of the few references to Laura’s profession. “Your sister was so proud of you. We’d get together every afternoon, and we’d watch the show together. I even saw your show today. I watched it while I got ready to come to the funeral. I loved that red dress you wore.”

“It was filmed,” Laura said. “We’re about two days ahead with filming. That’s why I have to get back.”

“I can’t believe you’re as sweet as sugar apple pie. However do your manage to play such a scoundrel?”

“I do enjoy my job,” Laura said.

“You’re a great actress.”

Now the funeral was over. She’d said goodbye to her sister’s friends at the graveyard, and    back at the funeral home, she’d signed the last of the necessary papers.

She was grateful that people had been so nice at the funeral. There were those who confused her with the character she played on television. She’d once had a whole carton of milk poured on her head in a supermarket. Another time one of the show’s fans hit her with an umbrella. She’d barely escaped injury that time.

Laura pulled into traffic. She drove slowly, unsure of the streets. She was halfway to the airport when a semi trailer pulled in front of her.

The famous actress came into the emergency disoriented. She complained of a splitting headache and a nurse handed her two Tylenol tablets. The doctors wanted to keep Laura overnight, but she had to be back to New York for filming. She called her manager and he arranged for a car to pick her up and take her to the airport. All she needed was a driver and a few hours of sleep.

Geri Dabb swept the hospital hallway. When she saw the famous actress, she nudged her friend, Bea. “It’s her. It’s her. It’s Gina March.”

“Oh my god, it really is her. What’s she doing here?”

“That bitch. I hate her. Did you see what she did today to that sweet Jeannie Cooper.”

“I want to strangle her. She’s such a meanie.”

Geri agreed. “Let’s go talk to her.”

Laura smiled when the two women approached. Was one of them her driver?

“Hello, Gina.”

Laura nodded. She’d been called Gina before. People who watched the show everyday thought of her as Gina March. In soaps, few people bothered to learn the actor’s real names.

“A-Are you my drivers?” Laura asked.

Bea smiled. “We sure are, Sweetie. This way please.”

A few minutes later Bea and Geri had Laura strapped into the back seat of Bea’s car. Bea closed and locked the doors.

“We can’t take time off to drive her to the airport.” Geri said.

“Who said anything about taking her to the airport? You go punch us both out. Tell the supervisor, I’m sick and you’re driving me home.”

While Geri rushed off; Bea took some sleeping pills from her purse.

Laura blinked tears from her eyes. “My head hurts.”

Bea gave her some pills and a water bottle. “This will help.” Bea told her.

When Laura Shane didn’t show up for rehearsal, the director called her agent who made additional calls, and an hour later, he called the director back. “We’ve got a serious problem. Laura seems to have disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“The driver I hired said she’d already left the hospital when he got there.”

“Then she’s okay.”

“If she’s okay, where is she?”

The producer spent the rest of the day on the phone, but learned little.

“The police are looking for her,” he told the director the next time they spoke. “They’ve checked all the hotels. There’s been some activity on her credit cards. They’ve checked camera footage at the ATMs.”

“What did they find out from the security cameras?”

“The woman using the card wore a hoodie and never faced the camera.”

“Hoodie?”

“She wasn’t dressed like Laura would dress. Sweat pants, sweatshirt. Does that sound like Laura?”

“She might have been seriously hurt in that car accident. She could be running around with amnesia.”

The director called an emergency meeting with the writers. They’d already gone two days without the popular actress in the story. They needed her back.

“Well get another actress to play the part,” one writer suggested. He didn’t relish rewriting pages of script.

“She’s too good. The public will never buy another actress in this role.” The director paced for awhile. “Her character has to disappear. Write in some kidnappers.”

The writers looked pained as they filed from the room. This wouldn’t fit with the story line so far. “Concentrate on the kidnappers,” the director instructed. “They’ll have her locked in a closet. The camera won’t see her.”

The tabloids picked up the story. The studio offered a $100,000 reward for information that would lead to discovering the whereabouts of actress Laura Shane.

Laura regained consciousness in a small room. The drapes were drawn. She struggled to sit up and to move her legs. Her head ached. She felt the after effects of some drug. She tried to stand up, but the headache was too intense.

She remembered sitting in the back seat of a car; she remembered the two women. One of them had given her pills to swallow.

Laura tried to get out of bed, but fell backwards.

The door opened. A woman hurried to her bedside. “We can’t have you getting up now. You’re too weak.”

“Where am I?”

Where you can’t ever hurt anyone else you selfish, disgusting bitch.

Bea helped the actress get settled back in the bed and gave Laura three more sleeping pills. She watched the actress sink back into unconsciousness.

“It would be nice if we could collect that reward,” Bea said looking at the tabloid headlines.

“Who would’ve guessed a bitch like that would be missed?”

“Says here she’s a nice person, and her cat misses her.”

“We can’t do anymore ATM’s. They’re being watched.”

“But the reward.”

“Forget the reward. We could go to prison. They’ll accuse us of kidnapping.”

“We didn’t ask for any money.”

“But we drugged her. We kept her against her will.”

“She never said she wanted to leave. We found her confused and in lots of pain. We’ve been helping her.”

“We’ve been using her credit cards.”

“We’ll say she asked us to get things for her.”

“No good. We should have called the police.”

“So what do we do? We gotta get rid of her.”

“We can’t kill her.”

“Well, just give her a few more pills.”

A police detective took over one of the ground floor offices at the hospital. When Geri went in for her interview, she liked the detective. He looked just like the actor Jack Soo. How she always loved him in ‘Hill Street Blues’.

“You were on duty when Laura Shane was brought in,” he said. “Is that correct?”

“I was sweeping the floor.”

“Did you see her?”

“I saw a woman waiting for a driver.”

“Did you know who she was?”

“Who she ‘is’. You mean, ‘Did I know who she is?’ She ain’t dead. At least I hope she ain’t dead.”

Geri’s hands trembled, but she couldn’t do anything about that.

Laura awoke alone in the bedroom. She found the rumpled clothing she’d worn to her sister’s funeral. She put on the clothes. As an actress she cared a great deal about her appearance, but at the moment, she just wanted to be away from this house. She feared the two women who kept her here might return.

She was too unsteady for the high heals. Instead she put on a pair of old slippers she found in a closet. They were a size too large, but they worked better than the heels. On her way out, she saw a stack of mail and slipped a few of the letters into a plastic Kroger shopping bag. She left the house.

Outside cars whizzed past. Where was she? She stumbled down the sidewalk and read the street signs. Coolidge and Normandy. She turned to her left.

She saw traffic lights and the ‘WALK’ sign. A bicyclist swooshed past her. She followed him, and made it safely across the street before the light changed. She stumbled, but managed to regain her balance.

A man gardening outside asked. “Are you okay, lady?”

His wife ran out of the house. “It’s her. It’s her. It’s that actress.” She clutched her cell phone. “She’s here. She’s here,” she told the 911 operator. “Laura Shane is here.” She rattled off her address and ran after the disoriented actress. “Can I have your autograph?”

Bea slammed the newspaper on the kitchen table. “I told you we should have turned her in for the reward.”

“That would’ve meant they’d look too closely at us. Do you want to get arrested? We’re just lucky she can’t remember much.”

Later, the mail arrived; it included a letter, and an autographed picture of Laura Shane. ‘Good thing I’m not the bitch I play on television. The studio would love the publicity of a trial. I just want to put the incident behind me. Best wishes, Laura.’

THE END

Copyright M.A. De Neve 2021