“Even better.” Cecily smiled at her, clearly glad she wouldn’t have to deal with the complications of juggling cars in the driveway. “I can’t promise we’ll be quiet, not with this one around” — she transferred the baby to her other hip — “but he mostly sleeps through the night now.”
“It’s fine,” Audrey told her. “Really, I’m just grateful for a place to crash.”
“I’m glad we had it for you to use.” She glanced over at her sister. “If you could show Audrey around — ”
“Sure,” said Rosemary. “I’ll give her the grand tour. Of course, since the guest house is only about five hundred square feet, that shouldn’t take very long.”
Cecily only shook her head, then waved at Audrey in an off-hand way and headed back to her house, which was a handsome Craftsman-style cottage, sturdy and square. From what Audrey could tell, the guest house was much newer construction, probably built in the ’50s or ’60s. There wasn’t much to it, as Rosemary had pointed out, but it was neat and clean, with laminate floors and wood blinds at the windows, a kitchenette, and a small but immaculate bathroom. Everything looked fresh and new, as if it had been remodeled recently.
Audrey set her suitcase down near the foot of the bed. “This is just perfect. Thanks so much.”
Rosemary put the tote bag on the floor next to the suitcase. “It’s not a problem. You’ve been through a lot — you need someplace to stay and get yourself together. And it is safe. Cecily’s property is protected. Nothing should bother you here.”
She had to hope Rosemary was right. Nothing here set off any alarms, but Audrey would be the first to admit that her nascent psychic powers — if they were even real, and not something Michael had made up to make her believe she would have any chance of prevailing against a demon attack — weren’t exactly trustworthy when it came to determining whether a place was safe to stay in or not. “Well, that’s good to know.”
“So, what’s your next step?”
Go to bed and sleep for a hundred years, she thought, but Audrey knew that was no solution. If nothing else, she had to meet with her clients the next day, keep up her end of the bargain.
Before she could reply, her phone rang from within her purse. She contemplated not answering it, but that wasn’t really an option. While she had no wish to talk to Michael — and she thought it likely he would be the one calling — she used a service to answer client calls, and it was entirely possible her phone was ringing now because one of her clients needed to get in touch with her.
The call was from somewhere in the 213 area code. Audrey didn’t recognize it, but touched the screen to accept the call anyway. “Hello?”
Colin’s voice, clipped and furious. “Michael told me how you walked out on him this morning. What you two little lovebirds do in the bedroom is your own business, but if you think this is going to keep you from going to Tucson for the next shoot — ”
Audrey had to hold back her own wave of anger. Speaking as calmly as she could, she said, “I’m sorry, Colin, but circumstances have changed. I don’t think I can do any more shows.”
Rosemary, looking subdued, mimicked holding a phone to her ear and mouthed, I’ll call you, before she headed out the door. While Audrey possibly could have used her moral support, this was probably a conversation better played out in private.
Sounding angrier than ever, Colin spat out, “Do I have to remind you that you signed a contract? Or that you’ve already been paid one-third of the sum stipulated in the contract? You can’t just back out like you’re changing your mind about what you ordered for dinner.”
“I know I signed a contract,” Audrey said wearily. “And I haven’t spent any of the money. I can get a cashier’s check and return it all to you.” Technically, this was all true. She’d written the check for the property tax and had planned to mail it, but the sealed envelope was still tucked inside the desk in her office.
“That’s not the point!” Colin snapped. “Even if we could find a replacement for you at the last minute, there’s the little matter of the episode we’ve already shot. There is no way we could edit you out and put someone else in.”
Audrey wanted to say that there had to be some way, Hollywood effects wizardry being what it was, but she guessed that any solution would be costly, and therefore not something Colin would want to pursue. There was the footage they’d gotten of that thing trying to crawl its way out of the mirror, and then hers and Michael’s battle with the demons in the basement…both of those scenes would be incredibly difficult to replicate.
“Did the contract cover threats to life and limb and property?” Audrey asked, her tone acid. “I mean, there were the medical provisions, but that doesn’t count the damage done to my house and car, or — ”
“What damage?” Colin demanded.
She hesitated. After all, the damage had been repaired, or at least it looked as if it had been. Maybe that had all been an illusion. At this point, it was so hard to tell reality from fantasy, she just didn’t know anymore.
“Someone trashed my house, and vandalized my car,” Audrey said briefly. “Michael can corroborate that. He saw the damage, too.” Which was true enough, although it didn’t tell the whole story.
“I’m sorry to hear that, but can you prove that the damage is connected to your work on the show?”
“Well, no, but — ”
“But nothing.” Colin’s voice hardened. “Let me tell you, Ms. Barrett — if you try to renege on this contract, if you try to pull out of the show and leave us all holding the bag, you will be in a world of hurt. My lawyer eats sharks for breakfast, and I have no doubt that he will have no compunction about turning your life into a living hell.”
Was it possible to be scared to death and yet angry as hell at the same time? It must be, because that was how she felt right then — frightened over the prospect of what Colin and his lawyer might do to her, and furious that she’d been put in this position in the first place. “Do you know about Michael?” Audrey asked, playing the only card she had left.
This response was clearly not what Colin had been expecting, because there was a pause before he responded. “What am I supposed to know about Michael?”
Oh, hell. Mad as she was at him, did she really want to betray his secret? Because although neither of them had mentioned any specifics, Audrey was almost positive that Colin didn’t know anything about Michael’s past, didn’t know that the two of them were already connected by a shared tragedy long before they’d ever met. Maybe Colin wouldn’t be fazed by knowing that Michael was related to a man who’d killed so many people, but even if the news didn’t bother him personally, it was very likely that sooner or later he’d let the information slip, and the identity Michael had spent more than a decade building would be wiped out, just like that.
For the longest moment, Audrey hesitated. Then she realized that even if she could gain some kind of advantage by telling Colin the truth about Michael, she wasn’t sure whether she could live with herself afterward. She remembered how he’d said that it had been Colin’s idea to recruit her for the show, that he’d done what he could to suggest other possibilities. They were both victims of circumstance here.
Even so, that didn’t mean Audrey could continue working with him. Not when he’d kept such a horrible truth from her.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just that…I don’t think either of you were completely truthful with me.”
“We were as truthful as we could be. Neither of us could possibly know what we were up against at the Whitcomb mansion.” Colin paused for a few seconds, then added, “And while I understand that a drunken tumble might make things awkward on set, I don’t have time for your theatrics. You’ll be at the Thunderbird B&B in Tucson on Monday morning, or you will hear from my lawyer.”
She knew it wasn’t an idle threat. The real question was, could she even find anyone to defend her in such an obvious breach of contract case? And, if not, could she find it in herself to endure five more weeks of shooting the
damn show, of being around Michael Covenant?
Michael Stanek, she thought. Brother of Philip. Philip Stanek, who shot your parents for no reason except he’d decided to set the world on fire that particular day.
Five weeks wasn’t so long, was it? All right, these past few days had felt like weeks, and she had no idea what sort of horrors awaited in Tucson, or the other locations where Colin planned to film the show. But better to endure those weeks than to have her life ruined by a lawsuit she couldn’t afford. She might lose the house, the only thing she had left from her parents. Her existence wasn’t a perfect one, but it seemed idyllic compared to what it might be if she lost what little she possessed in this world.
“All right,” Audrey said, not bothering to hide the defeat in her voice. “I’ll be there.”
Of course, the planned road trip with Michael was out of the question. She did a little research, found out she could fly Southwest from Ontario into Phoenix, and then do a short hop from Phoenix to Tucson. Since she didn’t have any real alternatives, Audrey forwarded this information in a text to Colin, letting him know of her plans and the time her flight would be getting in on Sunday. In response, she got a message that said, Good. Will have Susan pick U up @ airport at 3 p.m.
Obviously, P.A. Brooke was history, and everyone left was doing double duty. Audrey couldn’t really blame the girl; she’d tried to run, too, but Colin had neatly outmaneuvered her.
Well, at least he was being diplomatic enough to have Susan show up to fetch her rather than Michael. But possibly Colin had realized that the whole affair was resting on some very thin ice, and so he didn’t want to push things any more than he had.
Once Audrey was done with those plans, she called Rosemary. She’d barely said “hello” before Audrey told her, “Colin threatened to sue me into the next century if I didn’t do the show, so I caved. I’ll be going to Tucson on Sunday — I had to wait until then because I’m seeing clients on Saturday.”
“Are you sure?” she said, her tone doubtful. In the background, Audrey heard people talking, which meant Rosemary had probably gone to work at the store after she was done dropping Audrey off at her sister’s house. “I mean, the situation at the Whitcomb mansion was rough enough, and that was with you and Michael working together. If you’re going to be continually fighting each other — ”
“We’re not,” Audrey cut in. “That is, we’ll just have to be adults and work together as professionals. Then, when this is all over, we can promise not to talk to each other ever again.”
Rosemary let out a sigh that was loud enough to come through clearly on Audrey’s cell phone’s speaker. “I’m not just talking about acting like adults. I’m talking about going up against otherworldly forces when your energies are out of rhythm. That could make for a very dangerous situation.”
Possibly she was right, but Audrey had already agreed to this whole mess and had no way to back out now. Maybe, just maybe, if things got bad enough, even Colin would come to the conclusion that they couldn’t continue.
Right.
“I’ll be careful,” Audrey said. “There isn’t much more I can do than that. Anyway, I’ll be here tonight and Saturday night, but then I’ll be out of town until the following weekend. What do you want me to do with the key to the guest house?”
“Just leave it under the mat when you leave on Sunday,” Rosemary replied, sounding resigned. “I’ll let CeeCee know. I’d have you give it to me, but I have to go to a retreat I signed up for months ago, and I need to head out to Idyllwild tonight. Shitty timing.”
That was for sure. It would have been nice to have Rosemary around for moral support this weekend, especially since Audrey knew she really couldn’t tell her friend Bettina about any of the things that had happened over the past few days. Well, she was going to be busy Saturday from nine to six, and after that she’d probably want to collapse anyway, so it wasn’t as if she would have had the time and energy for much socializing anyway.
“It’s okay,” Audrey said. “I have to work all day tomorrow, and then I’ll be heading out of town. But have fun at your retreat.”
“I’ll try to. Can you call or text from your location in Tucson? I know I — and my sisters — would feel better if we knew everything was going okay.”
“Of course,” Audrey replied. “At least, I don’t see why not, unless the cell reception is bad there. But even if that’s the case, I’ll figure something out.”
“Good.” The voices in the background of Rosemary’s phone got a bit louder, and she added, “I have to go — the cash register is getting swamped. Take care of yourself, Audrey.”
“I will,” Audrey said — an automatic response without any real conviction in it. “’Bye, Rosemary.”
The call ended there, probably because Rosemary had to shove her phone in her pocket and get to work. Audrey looked around at the guest house, at the unfamiliar furnishings, and let out a sigh.
Well, at least she didn’t have to worry about packing for her trip to Tucson. Thank God she could take the tote bag as a carry-on.
Unfortunately, that was about the only positive thing she could find about her current situation.
The next day and a half went faster than she thought it would. She spent that first afternoon getting her office tidied up in readiness for all her client meetings the next day — luckily, the office was in walking distance from Cecily’s house — then got takeout that night and went to bed early. Saturday was spent in seeing clients, taking notes, and getting all their appointments set up for the following weekend. Audrey had to hope the shooting schedule in Tucson would be basically the same as it had been here in Glendora, with everything wrapped up by Friday. She and Michael hadn’t really talked about it, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to call him — or Colin — now. She’d just have to wait and see, and hope for the best.
She didn’t sleep particularly well, but she still dutifully rolled out of bed at seven o’clock the next morning and got herself together. Her flight to Phoenix didn’t leave until eleven-thirty. Still, she wanted to make sure she got to the airport in plenty of time, especially since she had to take a shuttle, thanks to her car being out of commission.
Or maybe it was actually fine; she hadn’t gone back to the house to check. However, if her home wasn’t safe to stay in, then her car probably fell into that same category. At some point, she’d have to get all that sorted out — she couldn’t stay in Cecily’s guest house forever, after all — but for right now she would allow herself to be focused on the week ahead, on the uncomfortable prospect of spending way more time than she would like in Michael Covenant’s company.
For some reason, it was easier to think of him that way. “Michael” on its own was too intimate, made Audrey remember the touch of his lips, the sound of his voice…the way their bodies had become one in a moment that had felt so right and yet was completely, terribly wrong. She hated how she reacted to those memories, the flush of need that went through her, even as angry as she still was.
Maybe some dry desert air would clear her head.
The ride to the airport was uneventful, as was the flight from Ontario to Phoenix, so short that the jet barely reached cruising altitude before it began to descend once again. Two hours’ layover at Phoenix International Airport, a huge maze of a place, as confusing in its own way as LAX. Then boarding a 737 for the short hop down to Tucson, the whole time her stomach growing tighter and tighter with dread and anticipation.
Audrey had thought she could do this. But could she? Right then, she didn’t know what intimidated her more — facing demons, or facing Michael Covenant.
Well, she was here now, watching the sharp-edged mountains that formed Tucson’s border to the east come into focus as the plane descended toward Tucson International Airport. Not so many minutes later, they were taxiing up to the terminal, and then there came the inevitable wait as the plane was connected to the tube that would allow the passengers to disembark.
Not a long
enough wait, though. Even though Audrey remained in her seat while everyone else jostled to get their luggage out of the overhead compartments, eventually she had to get up, retrieve her tote bag, and make her way off the plane. She followed the signs to baggage claim and collected her little rolling suitcase, then trundled it out to the main terminal. Nothing here actually stood out to her — in terms of architecture, Tucson International bore a striking resemblance to the airport in Ontario, bland and utilitarian — but she wasn’t really looking at the building. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Susan’s tall, lanky form, her long dirty-blonde ponytail.
There she was. Their eyes met at almost the same moment, and the sound operator waved and gave Audrey a relieved smile. She came over to her, and Susan said, “How was your flight?”
“Fine,” Audrey replied. Not much else to say about it, and the topic felt awkward in general, considering just a few days earlier they’d all thought they would be caravanning together.
“I’m parked just across the way,” Susan said, pointing to the lot across the street. “Do you need help with any of that?”
Audrey handed over the tote bag with some gratitude, since it was awkward trying to manage it, her purse, and the rolling suitcase all at the same time. “Thanks, Susan.”
“No problem.”
The two women threaded their way through the crowd in the terminal, then went outside to wait for a green light so they could safely cross the access road that separated the terminal from the parking lot. The car surprised Audrey a bit; it was a big black Lincoln with heavily tinted windows, the kind of car she associated with limousine services, not private drivers.
Susan must have noticed her reaction, because after she closed the trunk, she explained, “I had car trouble on the way here, so it’s at a repair shop in town while we do the shoot. This one was the only thing the car rental place had available on such short notice.”
“Ah,” Audrey said. The last time she’d rented a car, they’d given her a Hyundai Sonata, but she had to admit she wasn’t too savvy about the sorts of cars rental services tended to use.
Unquiet Souls Page 23