Boris, Brad and Kevin didn’t need to look at one another; they stared at Fin and all nodded gravely.
“Anyway,” Fin said, leaning back. “What are your plans for tonight?”
“Uh...” Kevin glanced at Avalon.
“Frankly, we don’t have any plans,” Boris said.
“We’ve just been working all day,” Brad told Fin. “I mean...this sounds shallow, but we all still have to make a living.”
“Not at all. If it helps any, I imagine the movie will do well, if you get it finished. The caretaker at the estate in Mississippi where the other girl was left told me that he gets many more people these days than he did before the murder.”
They all just stared at him.
“People can be ghouls,” Fin said softly.
Boris let out a sigh. “I put everything into this. My own production. I had so much faith. And I now I feel like...a jerk.”
“You don’t need to feel like a jerk,” Avalon said.
“You didn’t do it,” Kevin said.
“No. And still, I feel it dishonors a friend if I get it into distribution, and dishonors others trying to make a living if I lose everything on it,” Boris said.
“Let’s catch the suckers who did this—that will help all of us, I think,” Fin said.
“Right. What can we do?” Boris asked.
“I’m so glad you asked,” Fin told him. “I need you to head out to dinner. There’s a place on Magazine that would be perfect. Boris—you specifically are in contact with the Christy heirs, right?”
“Yes.”
“Invite them to go with you.”
“Okay,” Boris said slowly. “I can ask...”
“They’ll come,” Fin said with assurance. “They’re stuck in the city. They’re enamored of the movies. They’ll come.”
“I—Sure,” Boris said. “The one I’ve been in contact with the most is Cara—she gets the others to agree or disagree on anything. I’ll give her a call. It’s about seven thirty already, though...”
“How about eight thirty? That sounds like something everyone could make?” Fin asked.
“Um...” Boris looked at the others.
“Lauren is practicing alien makeup on Leo and Terry,” Brad said. “I’ll run up and ask them if they can...clean up and be ready.”
“Great. Thank you. Excuse me, I have to make a few phone calls,” Fin said.
He rose and wandered away from the group, toward the gate.
“Who is he calling?” Kevin whispered to Avalon.
She shook her head. “Um, Detective Stapleton...or Ryder, as they call him. His headquarters? I don’t know.”
“Scary guy,” Kevin said, looking at Fin.
“He’d have made a hell of an actor,” Boris remarked.
“Yeah? You think so?” Kevin asked. And then he answered himself, “Yeah, yeah, rugged good looks, nice angles on the face, cool voice.”
Boris shook his head. “I don’t mean any of that. I mean that...his mind is turning constantly, and you can see it. But you haven’t the least idea of what he’s really thinking or feeling.” He paused, grinning. “He could be after one of us—even one of us specifically. And we wouldn’t know it.”
“He seems to think that the family might be guilty,” Brad said. He looked uneasy. “Me, too. I mean, they own the island, right?”
“But were they in Mississippi two years ago?” Boris asked. He winced suddenly. “I was thinking that this would make a good movie. My friend is dead, and...”
“Boris, it’s okay. Call Cara,” Avalon said.
Boris nodded, looking at her. “Do you trust him?”
“Do I trust that he wants to find Cindy’s killer?” she asked. “Yes. Beyond a doubt.”
“Okay, then.”
Boris took out his phone.
Avalon was tired—it had already been a hell of a long day—but she stood restlessly and told Brad, “Let’s go see what’s going on with Lauren, Leo and Terry. See if they can clean up in an hour, or even if they’ll come out tonight.”
She headed into the house; the door from the courtyard to the house had been left unlocked—naturally, three of their number had been in the courtyard. She hurried in and headed up the stairs, Brad at her heels.
The door to Lauren’s room was open. Leo was sitting on the bed, leafing through one of Lauren’s books, and Terry was at her dressing table.
Lauren had finished with Leo, apparently. He’d been given the appearance of an extended head that went with his huge “bug” eyes.
Terry was done up in green. His hair was covered by a wig cap and he was an excellent approximation of a little green man. Lauren was surveying her work.
Seeing Avalon and Brad arrive, she asked, “What do you think?”
“Wow,” Avalon said. “I hate to ask this, but do you want to do dinner on Magazine Street at eight thirty?”
“It’s not just dinner,” Brad warned.
“Fin Stirling wants us to go out and he’s asked Boris to call the Christy heirs,” Avalon explained.
“Oh,” Lauren said.
“I can see that you’ve been busy,” Avalon said. “And you can just say no—”
“Never, not if it could help. Does he think that one of them might be...a heinous murderer?” Terry asked.
“I don’t know what goes on his mind,” Avalon said.
“Maybe he thinks one of us is a heinous murderer,” Terry said.
“I don’t care—obviously, we’re suspects,” Lauren said. “I’m happy to do anything. I just finished with Terry and it was all for fun practice. It will take these guys at least thirty minutes to get out of the prosthetics and wash up, but yeah, I think we can make eight thirty.”
“And we need to eat, anyway,” Terry said.
“But I need some pictures,” Leo said. “For my portfolio. Brad, would you mind? Could you grab one of your cameras?”
“Sure. I’d be happy to,” Brad said. “Come on down—it’s dark outside, but the courtyard lights will be perfect for some great shots.”
“I’d love some pictures for fun in this getup, too,” said Terry.
“Come on down!” Brad said.
He headed out followed by “aliens” Terry and Leo. Lauren looked at Avalon, smiled and shook her head. “All right, well... I’m going to see what they get.”
They hurried out behind the three men, heading for the courtyard.
When they stepped out into it, though, they discovered that apparently, neither Terry nor Leo had realized that Fin Stirling was out there.
Leo slammed on the brakes.
Terry crashed into him.
“Uh, hi!” Leo said.
Fin walked toward him, a slight smile on his face as he marveled at the makeup.
“Wow. That’s amazing. Sorry, you both look amazing.” He looked at Lauren. “You do incredible work.”
Lauren was quiet for a minute. “Cindy was better at this,” she said softly. “We’d both been talking about the fact that we’d been approached by a director considering doing a science-fiction movie. We would have taken the work...together.” She shrugged, wincing. “I thought I should see how I’d do, but...not sure I can take the work now, anyway. I mean, that is the thing about being behind the camera—stars must vie for positions on big projects. We just need to...work.”
“Well, you do exceptional work,” Fin said. He looked straight at Lauren as he added, “I promise you. I won’t stop. We’ll find out who did it.”
Lauren gave him a weak smile.
“So, pictures!” she said.
Everyone had an opinion on where in the courtyard great shots could be taken. They laughed about the idea of walking out on the streets in their makeup, but Kevin reminded them all that they were in New Orleans—people might not even notice.
Terry suggested that they could go to dinner as aliens.
Leo said an emphatic no—he was hungry. He wasn’t going to eat in a prosthetic.
Avalon agreed to look like a terrified damsel in distress attempting to escape Leo’s alien, but when they finished that shot, she excused herself to run upstairs. She’d forgotten until just then that she’d spent the morning taking shots for Samara Stella; she wanted to upload them into her computer, which Ryder had dropped off that afternoon while she’d been out.
She did so, and then stared at the screen, remembering the site she had seen.
And the “cherry bomb” that had removed it.
There was a knock at her door. She stood and opened it; Fin was there.
“Hey, are you all right?” he asked her.
“Fine. I just... It’s been a really long day. I forgot that I accepted a job—I needed to get the pics I took onto my computer.”
He nodded. “Be careful on that,” he told her.
“Did your computer agent—Jodi—did she find anything?”
“She started and sent what she found up to headquarters. They’re taking it from there, but, well, they found lots of things. Whether they’ve found our guy or not, I don’t know.” He hesitated. “Ryder has seen to it that the Christy heirs have been watched. They haven’t done anything unusual. They’re staying at a hotel on Canal Street now—all four of them. They went to a movie this afternoon, prowled the French Market and spent an hour or so with one another at Café du Monde. Boris reached Cara—I believe they’re going to meet you.”
“But you’re not coming with us?”
“I am. I’m just going to show up looking for you once you’ve all been together for a bit.”
“I see. No, I don’t.”
He smiled. “In a social setting, with you and your friends, they won’t mind that I’m there, not after I’ve been accepted and greeted by you guys.”
“Okay.”
He lowered his head for a moment. “Angela found another possible victim,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“Possible victim. Remains of a young woman were found in a bayou in Terrebonne Parish about thirteen months ago. It took a while to find this one because the remains had degraded, and we don’t know if the incidents are related or not. I’ll be taking a ride out there tomorrow, most probably, if you want to come.”
“I—I don’t know. I should be working on this, um, website. But, of course, if you think that I can help...wow. Okay, you want to look at the Christy heirs—but they’re not even from this area, are they? And we’re looking at Christy Island, and Terrebonne, which is, of course, so near, and then the Biloxi area. The Christy heirs are from—”
“Cara and Gary are from Monroe, Louisiana. Julian Bennett is from Baton Rouge, and Kenneth Richard is from Beaumont, Texas. Beaumont is the farthest...and not that far. Not far from Terrebonne Parish, and not far from Mississippi. Beaumont to NOLA is a four-to five-hour drive, depending on traffic. None of them would have needed a ticket to get on a plane—all of this is easy driving distance. I could be wrong. I believe that the only way someone managed all this was to be familiar with people and places. Not the kind of friends the family knows, but...”
“Well, the good thing is that should rule my friends out,” Avalon said firmly. “I know them all very well.” She hesitated. “What if you follow them and you find nothing on them?”
“Back to the drawing board. Until I do find the truth.”
Avalon hesitated a minute. “I’ll be happy to do whatever is needed.”
He grinned. “Even spend time with me?”
She tilted her head. He was standing very close. The idea of shocking him, drawing him against her and applying the deepest, most evocative kiss known to man on his lips, absurdly occurred to her.
She didn’t step away.
Neither did she touch him.
She forced a smile.
“I don’t dislike you half as much as I did when we first met.”
“Good. You’re not half as annoying as you were, either.”
“I was never annoying.”
He grinned. “Well, at least you’re not-bad-looking.”
“Thank you. Nothing like being not-bad-looking and not too annoying.”
His grin faded. “Seriously? You’re something quite impressive. The dead can be...cautious. This afternoon, Alana trusted you.” He smiled again. “Okay, not-bad-looking, and you have an incredible inner beauty. Anyway, thank you. You do help.”
Avalon swallowed a little too hard.
“Thank you. Um, I need a minute before we leave. Oh, wait, you aren’t coming with us. But then—”
“I’m leaving here when you do. I’ll just follow a bit slowly. I’ll let you all get situated and then I’ll come in. Boris is going to welcome me and get me a chair.”
“Okay, then...”
He smiled, turned and left her.
She closed the door. She hurried into her bathroom, stared at her reflection in the mirror and decided on a bit more makeup.
* * *
“I’m going through videos from toll plazas, checking car service and rental records. You name it, we’re on it,” Angela promised Fin.
He was keeping back a block or so from the six close-knit members of the cast and crew of the movie as they headed for the restaurant. He wanted to make sure that they were seated and had at least ordered drinks before he entered.
“Are you heading to Terrebonne Parish tomorrow?” she asked.
“I am.”
“I’ve gone through what I could get from the sheriff’s office there. I told them that you were coming. They said anytime—they would have the case files ready for you.”
“She was dressed for a Roaring Twenties party?” Fin asked.
“Yep. Or the remnants of an outfit that was frilled and looked like a flapper’s outfit. She had a band around her head.” Angela was quiet for a minute. “The pictures I have are in your mailbox. When you have a chance...and here’s the thing. She was never identified. There’s a country bar out there that has decor like an old speakeasy and is, in fact, called the Speakeasy. The case jumped out at me because she was found in the bayou just down from the bar.”
“And maybe she was set up somewhere by the bar, and something happened. Or maybe they got scared away before they had chance to finish their setup,” Fin said.
“If she was their first, they might have panicked,” Angela said. “God, I hope she was the first! If these are the same people, it’s frightening to think of how long they might have been at this.”
“Do we know anything else about timing on the cast, crew and heirs?” he asked her.
“Yes, and you’re not going to like it.”
“Tell me.”
“Well, the heirs all live within possible driving distance of all the murder sites.”
“Right. And?”
“When it comes to this murder? The medical examiner couldn’t pinpoint the exact timing. But it was the same week that your close-knit group of rising artists was traveling to San Antonio for the internet show that they filmed.”
“All of them?”
“All of them in that group staying at the house now—Boris Koslov, Terry Jenson, Leo Gonzales, Brad Fallon, Lauren Carlson and Avalon Morgan.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“You don’t want it to be one of them, do you?”
“Angela, I promise you, I want to find the truth—wherever it may lead.”
“Right. Of course. I’ll keep you up on anything I get. Any reports on forensic finds by any chance that I don’t know about yet?”
“No, but at the mansion, there wasn’t much good sunlight left. They’ll start up again in the morning.”
“And now?”
“I’m going to
dinner.”
“With?”
“My suspect list,” he told her. “The entire list.”
* * *
There she was, eyes like crystal fire, a laugh that filled the air with melody.
A smile that could rival sunlight.
Hair...softest silk. She was truly poetry.
Wait...
He had to wait...
So it should be.
He didn’t want to wait. It was his turn. And he could watch her, envision her in his arms, feel her flesh as his hands slipped upon it, as he touched her, and touched her, tasted the sweetness of her flesh.
It was his turn.
And he hungered as he had never hungered before.
There had to be a complete plan, but that had been promised him. There had to be more than just the holding, the loving, the adoring, the moments that would live in his memory forever and ever.
There had to be the art, of course.
The artistry of display. The meaningfulness. All that mattered so very much. And it mattered that it was done right, that they could fulfill their dreams in all the time to come.
He reminded himself of the joy of anticipation.
Watching, stalking...feeling the air that was near her. Feeling the space where she had been, knowing that soon, soon...
Not soon enough.
The hunger was beginning to consume him.
The hunger to hold her, touch her, breathe her, taste her...
See those eyes on his. The color, the sparkle, the beauty in the depths.
See that fade...
And then have her as the warmth slowly left her body, and the fire filled his.
* * *
Her group took the St. Charles streetcar to reach the Magazine Street area and walked the few blocks from the streetcar down to the river.
There was a table almost ready for their group when they arrived; Avalon knew that Fin must have made the arrangements for them.
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