“What happened exactly?”
“I tried to save some money and it came back to bite me in the ass. It was a nightmare from the start. We were down in the middle of nowhere trying to shoot with a crew that spoke no English and only wanted to know when their siestas were starting. We weren’t prepared, we got behind right away, and once those location guys died, that was the beginning of the end.”
“Who died? Tracy didn’t say.”
“Three men, one woman. One of our locations fell out and they went searching for a replacement. They’d been warned by the locals not to wander off unescorted—but try and tell a film crew what not to do and they’ll just say fuck off. When they didn’t show up the next morning, we went looking and found them in out in the Mexican jungle in bloody pieces.”
“How could something like that happen?” Jess had a pretty good idea, horrific as it was. But he was interested in what James believed.
“They no doubt stumbled on a drug deal. Even though they knew the dangers, I still blame myself for what happened. It was my fault we were down there in the first place.”
“Santa Alvarado.”
For the first time, the actor eyed him suspiciously. “Thought you didn’t know anything about all this.”
“Tracy mentioned the town. I’d heard of it because that’s where Lena, our housekeeper, is from.”
“How do you think we ended up down there?”
Jess was confused. “Lena?”
“Well, not her exactly. When I was looking where to shoot The Seventh Day, I was at your folks’ house having coffee in the kitchen. I saw a photograph Lena had from where she grew up. The village looked beautiful and mystical, exactly what I wanted to capture on film. She told me where it was; we scouted it and fell in love with the location. Unfortunately, as it turned out.”
At least that was one mystery explained, thought Jess. He wondered if Lena was putting some of this back history together, and in a bizarre way, felt somewhat responsible for what was unfolding in the California desert years later.
“We shut down for a couple of days and to cap things off, I got sick as a dog. That’s when we decided to pull the plug, period.”
“How did Edward Rice fit in?”
“He was the movie doctor. I thought he was just one of those Dr. Feelgoods that usually end up on shoots. But he really stepped up. Got me on tons of fluids and pumped my stomach enough to have me survive the flight back to Palm Springs. He got your father to put me under wraps in Meadowland and keep the press away. Walter gave Rice a job on the staff for his efforts and I think you know how that turned out.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“The man is quite the accomplished opportunist.”
“He somehow managed to snag my sister in the process. I just found out they’re engaged.”
“I’d get a good lawyer to watch your father’s estate.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jess nodded toward the balcony. “If you don’t mind me asking, what were the two of you arguing about?”
“It was a private matter, actually.”
Jess realized he had pushed too hard. “Sorry. None of my business, really.”
“No worries.” James waved it off. “Just watch out for Rice, son.”
“Thanks, sir. I will.”
James addressed Harold the bartender. “Think I’ll take a rain check tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”
The actor offered his hand to Jess. As they shook, Jess asked the one question he had been saving up. “How’s Tracy doing?”
“She’s fine. Still trying to find her way.”
“Seen her recently?”
James didn’t miss a beat. “This afternoon, actually. We had a pleasant lunch up at the house.”
Jess knew that was a lie. From the contents in James’s refrigerator, it didn’t look like anyone had cooked a meal there in days.
“Tell her I said hello,” said Jess.
“I don’t think so,” replied James.
A sudden coldness swept over the actor’s face. It made Jess question everything the man had said since he had entered the tavern room.
“You broke her heart once, Jess. I won’t let that happen again.”
Clark James left the room before Jess could offer a comeback.
TRACY BEFORE
“I don’t think your father likes me very much,” said Jess.
“Don’t be ridiculous. And pass me one of those pickles.”
They were having a picnic at the top of the Aerial Tramway. Most tourists knew it as a place to build a snowman in the winter after taking a fifteen-minute funicular ride up from the desert floor. But the locals loved coming to the summit because it offered a drop-dead skyline view of the Coachella Valley and was a great way to beat the summer heat. Tracy and Jess had picnicked there at least once a week since they ran into each other on Palm Canyon Drive two months earlier.
Jess tossed her one of the kosher pickles and helped himself to a second sandwich. “I’m serious,” he said. “He didn’t say more than five sentences to me at dinner the other night.”
“You know actors. They’re helpless without having someone write their lines.”
“I think he’s worried I’m going to convince you to drop out.”
“Miss my senior year at Dartmouth?”
“Uh-huh. He seemed pretty upset you hadn’t picked your classes yet.”
Tracy bit the pickle in half and made a loud scrunchy sound. “That’s because I never decide till I get there. Even then, I still change my mind half the time.” She finished off the pickle and talked with her mouth half full. “I think you’re overreacting.”
“I don’t think so.” He leaned over and kissed her. They rolled around for a bit on the blanket, then came up for air and more lunch.
“And just what are your intentions?” she casually asked while spreading mustard on a piece of rye.
“Regarding you and Dartmouth?”
“No. About shipping off to Iraq.” She squirted mustard at him; he dodged it and they both laughed.
“I think you should go back.”
The smile dropped off Tracy’s face. “Really?”
“I think it’s important you get your degree.”
“And what are you going to do?”
Jess shrugged. “I’m definitely not going to stay in Palm Springs.”
Tracy turned her back and stared down at the valley. She pretended to study the traffic patterns, but the truth was she didn’t want Jess seeing the tears welling in her eyes. “You’d just leave, huh?”
“No point in sticking around.”
Tracy could feel Jess staring from behind, but she refused to let him watch her fall apart.
“You okay?”
She didn’t answer. Her lip was trembling.
“Trace?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
Jess moved a little bit closer and put his arms around her. He nuzzled her ear. “I’m sorry. Were you expecting me to ask you to stay? To drop out of school?”
Tracy shook her head. “No.” She raised a hand and wiped a falling tear. Then, she admitted the truth.
“I was sorta hoping you’d want to come back east with me.”
Jess used his strong arms to turn her around and look directly into his smiling face.
“That’s what I hoped you say.”
Tracy laughed. And began to kiss him all over.
She thought it was the happiest day of her life.
10
“I’d really like to see that movie,” Benji grunted between bites.
“Fat chance of that happening,” said Jess. They were back in the office of the Sands Motel. Jess had grabbed burgers from an In-N-Out off the highway. He picked at his Double-Double, which was already cold from the ten-mile drive to the outskirts of the Springs. This hadn’t stopped Benji from devouring two like they were marshmallows, and he was already working on his third.
“Yeah. But the footage would be a collector’s item.”
“Wonder if they got the dead guys on film.” Benji caught Jess’s look and tried to back off the ghoul factor. “Not in the movie. You know, using a location camera or something.”
“James never mentioned it, but who knows?”
“I’m just wondering if those location guys looked like your dad when you found him outside your motel room.”
“The same thought occurred to me.”
“What do you think James has to do with all this?”
“I’ve been trying to figure that out. Edward Rice was super pissed at him but James never lost his cool. Makes me think Clark is calling the shots, not Rice. Plus, whatever deal he’s got going with the doctor, it’s obvious James resents it. He told me as much.”
Jess continued to poke at the soggy French fries. “I’m more interested in how sick James got down in Mexico five years ago.”
“And the patients the nurse told you about,” Benji said between chomps.
“Only Clark made a full recovery while everyone else at Meadowland died.”
“You’re forgetting your father.”
“I wish.”
“Unlike the others, your dad came back.”
“That’s the part I’d like to forget.”
Benji plopped the remnants of burger number three into his mouth. That was enough to make Jess lose his appetite. He pushed his food away and Benji immediately eyed it.
“You done with that?”
“Have at it,” said Jess. “Just don’t wake me up in the middle of the night to get your stomach pumped in the ER.”
“You’ll be lucky if that’s the only thing that wakes you up.” Benji scooped up Jess’s half-eaten burger.
For some ludicrous reason, Tom Petty’s “Don’t Come Around Here No More” popped into Jess’s head. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the cereal box crucifix, and twirled it. “I get the feeling my dad’s not dropping by any time soon.”
“Told you that would come in handy,” said Benji.
“I don’t believe I’m even carrying it around.” Jess dropped the crucifix on the desk. He began rubbing his temple, hoping he would wake up back in his El Monte dispatch office and this time not return his mother’s call.
The phone by Benji actually rang, snapping Jess out of it. Benji answered it with one of his quips that only he thought was funny. “Sands. Your home away from home when you don’t want to be home.”
Benji listened for a few seconds. “Gimme a minute.” He covered the phone with his hand and looked at Jess. “Wanna talk to Edward Rice?”
“Seriously?”
Benji extended the phone. “I’ve never met the guy. But that’s who he says he is.”
Jess took the receiver. “Hello?”
Sure enough, there was Edward Rice on the other end of the line. “I tried your cell phone but it’s going straight to voicemail.”
This made perfect sense since it was six feet under in a watery grave. “I lost it. But you should already know that.”
Rice didn’t get defensive this time. “I understand.”
This caught Jess unprepared. It wasn’t an admission of anything but it certainly wasn’t a denial. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Sarah told me you were staying out there.”
Jess tightened his grip on the phone. “What do you want, Rice?”
“To continue our discussion from this afternoon.”
“You heard everything I had to say. I’ve got nothing to add.”
“You haven’t been told the truth about what happened to your father.” The physician paused, knowing he had Jess dangling on the hook. “Or where he is now.”
And suddenly he was reeling Jess in. “And you’re going to tell me?”
“Isn’t that what you were trying to pull out of me at Meadowland?”
Jess saw no need to answer that. “Where are you right now?”
“Home. I’m sure you know where that is.”
“I do.”
“I would have been shocked if you didn’t.”
“Why the sudden change of heart?” asked Jess.
“Let’s just say I’m getting tired of being other people’s lackey.”
“Who are we talking about? Clark James?”
“You know where I am.”
Rice hung up. Jess handed the phone back to Benji, who had caught Jess’s side of the conversation while only overhearing dribs and drabs from Rice. Jess filled in the missing pieces.
“You want me to drive?” asked Benji.
“Not this time. Rice sounds pretty skittish. I don’t get the impression he’d be comfortable talking in front of someone else.”
“What if it’s a setup?”
“You watch too many bad movies.”
“People make a lot of fun of me because I read tons of vampire crap and look where we are now.”
“You’re still staying here.” Jess stood up. “That doesn’t mean if you don’t hear from me by morning, you shouldn’t send the cavalry.”
“Gotcha,” said Benji.
Jess headed for the office door. No sooner had he grabbed the doorknob when he turned back around and moved toward the desk.
He grabbed the crucifix and put it inside his jeans pocket.
Rice lived near the border of Rancho Mirage, the upscale community just northeast of Palm Springs. Up the street from Tamarisk Country Club and the compounds that Sinatra and Groucho Marx had built the neighborhood was Desert Toney—old money from the Rat Packers and their ilk merged with new hedge fund payoffs that needed to be dumped somewhere two generations later.
It was close to midnight by the time Jess pulled the SUV up to the curb of Rice’s house, the only two-story structure on a neatly manicured block. Most of the other homes tried to stay true to the vintage fifties style from whence they came. Leave it to Rice to add a second story so he could look down on his neighbors and flaunt his newly acquired success.
Rice’s sports car was parked in the driveway. A green lawn that must have been watered fifteen times a week led up to the front door. Jess bet Rice didn’t even know the conscientious gardener’s name. Exotic cacti probably plucked directly from his mother’s garden lined both sides of the path. Jess kept glancing over his shoulder for things hiding in the dark.
He reached the door and began to knock. But realizing the lateness of the hour and the fact that he was expected, Jess tried the door handle. It clicked and he was able to swing it open.
Halfway. Something prevented it from going any further.
“Hello?” he called out softly, feeling a chill in the warm desert air.
There wasn’t an answer so he pushed harder. The door refused to budge. He was barely able to squeeze through the opening and almost tripped as his foot bumped into something.
Edward Rice’s head.
It was still attached to his body—but only because the neck hadn’t been totally ripped apart. The lone lamp in the living room threw enough light for Jess to get a horrific look. The physician had been torn to shreds as if set upon by a pack of rabid dogs.
Jess was sure there weren’t any murderous canines running amok in the streets of Rancho Mirage. He couldn’t say the same about a bloodthirsty vampire fresh out of the grave.
Another light flicked on.
Jess jumped. And then was filled with woe as he heard someone coming down the stairs.
“Edward…?”
Jess wanted to snap out all the lights and leave.
But his sister was already screaming.
11
Sarah’s screams threatened to wake the entire neighborhood. Jess’s first instinct was to reach out and calm her, like when they were children and he was the protective big brother. But she backed away before he could step forward, frantically pointing a finger at him, convinced he was the monster who had committed this atrocity.
If only she knew the truth, thought Jess.
“Stay
away from me!”
“Sarah, I just found him here.”
Her screams gave way to tearful blubbering. She collapsed on the stair landing. She was wearing Rice’s robe, a dark terrycloth number three sizes too big. As she buried her face in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably, the robe parted just enough for Jess to see she wasn’t wearing anything beneath it.
Sarah must have been sleeping when Rice had gotten up to unburden his conscience and called Jess. The doctor probably settled down to wait but a vampire came a-calling before Jess could get there. Sarah must have woken up to see her fiancé was no longer in bed, thrown on his robe, and started down the stairs.
Jess glanced at Rice’s mangled body. The blood was pooling beneath him. He must have been caught off guard and unable to yell for help. If he had, there was no way Sarah would have slept through it. She would have been downstairs by the time Jess arrived.
The sobs had quieted somewhat, so Jess tried to approach his sister again. Even though her hands still covered her eyes, she could sense his movement. “Don’t fucking come near me, Jess.”
“Sarah. I didn’t do this.” He took a deep breath and found himself unimaginably pleading with his sister. “I couldn’t do this.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing here?!”
“Rice called me less than an hour ago. He told me to come over. He wanted to talk.”
“In the middle of the night? That’s utter bullshit!” She took one more look at her dead fiancé and began sobbing again. She forced herself to look away and began to head out of the room.
“Where are you going, Sarah?”
“To call the police.”
Jess ran after her and caught up as they entered the kitchen. It was bachelor friendly with a center island and ample wet bar and stools to match. The masculine décor convinced him that Sarah hadn’t spent much time here yet; otherwise her fingerprints would have been all over the room.
“Can you just hold off a second?” Jess asked as he grabbed her shoulder.
Sarah immediately started pounding on Jess—slashing at his face with her fingernails and pummeling his chest with her tiny fists for all she was worth. He instinctively protected himself from the sharp nails but otherwise just took the assault. He figured at some level he deserved it. Finally, she shoved him away.
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