Hollywood Dead: Elisabeth Hicks, Witch Detective

by Rachel Graves

  “Yeah, but that wasn’t always an option. Special effects solved a lot of problems for the studio. It used to be that if you wanted to blow something up, the only way was to actually blow it up. And that gets real hard on the actors.” A smile stretched over his face at the joke, but when I brushed up against him my magic told me it wasn’t real. Inside Jeremy was filled with regret and sadness. I was ready to ask him about it when he said, “That’s strange.”

  “What?” His body blocked my view.

  “Someone left a rosary on the door knob.” He held up the sting of wooden beads, finished with a silver crucifix. I grabbed it and stuffed it in my pocket.

  “That means we’re in the right place.” I pushed past him and opened the door. My jaw dropped in horror.

  Samuel was on a table, like an autopsy victim. His throat had been cut, sliced from ear to ear. As a vampire he hadn’t died, just dried out. He looked dusty and drained. Draped over him were at least forty crosses on silver chains. The ones touching his bare skin had burned their likeness into him. His mouth opened in a frozen scream at the pain. I said a small prayer of thanks that his eyes were closed.

  “Why would they do this?” Jeremy whispered.

  “We don’t know.” My throat tightened. The smell from the corpse took me back to that hillside in the war and the last time I’d had my own limbs. Jeremy’s drama didn’t seem so important anymore, not compared to my own. I wouldn’t leave a dog like this; let alone a man I knew. I had to help Samuel but I didn’t want to move. Fear froze my limbs. Then I looked down at what real paralysis looked like. Samuel might be trapped in there, aware and in agony. I wasn’t going to leave him under those crosses for another minute.

  I started picking the crosses off. The skin crackled and peeled with some of them, the breaking sound making me gag. The flesh underneath was burned an unhealthy gray-black. He felt like plastic or wood underneath my fingers, hard and brittle. With each cross, he lost a little more flesh. By the time I had half a dozen off, his hands were pictures from an anatomy book, all muscles and sinew, no skin. Jeremy hadn’t moved—he stood back, mouth gaping. A plume of decay-scented air hit my open mouth and I wanted to stop. I wished I had that option, but even though my pockets were already filled with crosses and chains, there was still more to go.

  “Is he going to wake up?”

  “I’ve been promised he won’t.” My answer wasn’t comforting but it wasn’t a lie either. If Samuel did wake up, Jeremy, who stood closest to his head was the most likely victim. I was grateful for that.

  “How long?” He paused to swallow hard as I dug a chain set with crosses each about the size of my fingernail out of the flesh around Samuel’s ankle. “How long has he been like this?”

  “A week,” I grunted, prying out one particular crucifix that had burned in deep.

  “A week,” he repeated, barely speaking.

  “Did I get all of them?” I checked the body up and down. It might not have been an issue to leave one in place—the vampire’s equivalent of a splinter—but Samuel had been hurt enough.

  “There’s a few inside his neck. I should get them.” He swallowed hard and nodded to himself before he went after it.

  “You don’t have to, it’s not like you did this.”

  “No directly, but you can’t ignore that it’s related to me.” His face pressed down in front of Samuel’s mouth but Jeremy didn’t seem to care.

  “Aren’t you scared?”

  “Of a vampire?” He put the cross on the side of the table, and went after the next one. “I work for worse, don’t I?”

  What did that mean? He’d gone right back to taking out crosses so obviously now wasn’t the time to ask but why stay with the studio if he was that unhappy with them? What did they have on him that he didn’t just walk away? Was he protecting someone? “I’ll put the tarp on if you’ve got the rest.”

  He barely nodded. I’d be writing Jeremy off as an idiot or a dastardly villain. Now he acted more like a decent guy forced to deal with shitty circumstances. I unfolded the tarp around Samuel’s legs, wishing I had more time to pin Jeremy down and force him to tell me everything. Because if he was a good guy stuck in the middle of something, I might be able to help. I wrapped the tarp tightly, securing it with a bungee cord before moving up, being careful, lifting the body and wrapping, leaving nothing open. I got to his waist before Jeremy stepped back, staring at the crosses in his hand. They were smaller—like a handful of coins—but the gore coated edges meant they’d gone onto Samuel’s skin before he’d bled dry.

  The blood-stained shirt, the expression on his face, all of it spoke of pain but I couldn’t feel any emotions underneath my hands. Samuel just felt well and truly dead, the way vampires did during the day, the way Jo had. Thinking of her like this made my stomach clench. I turned away trying to clear my head.

  “Here. I’ve got it.” Jeremy stepped in, wrapping with care. I let my hands brush his as I took a few deep breaths. Once the smell of death was gone from my nostrils my stomach calmed. I watched him move—the carefulness, his mouth silently praying or maybe asking forgiveness – and read him with my magic at the same time. He felt responsible for this.

  “You really didn’t know this was going on, did you?”

  He shook his head as he moved the blue plastic tarp up Samuel’s body, stepping away from my skin.

  “The phone call threatening Jo, the car coming after me… You didn’t have any idea?”

  “No.” He shook his head again. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t try to put an end to it. Let’s get him out of here.”

  I nodded. Samuel was wrapped up like a package, a light but awkward one. I walked with his legs in my hands, Jeremy at his head. My pockets were stuffed with crosses and my hands full. I’d left the suitcase behind but it was still a long trip out of the building. Every few minutes I started to stumble, and had to grab again. The plastic went slippery with sweat, the dust from the roof caked on my hands. The effort felt like more than I had done in ages.

  By the time we opened the door to the outside, a million years had passed without a word between us. It was long enough that when I heard someone talk, I looked up startled.

  “Hey Jeremy! What’cha’got?” The portly senior citizen coming toward us had a touch of limp. He walked in a rhythm—left foot first, swing the right leg around, then left foot again. If it wasn’t for the grace of God and the beauty of tissue regeneration technology, I’d be walking the same way.

  Jeremy gave him a smile I guessed was fake. “A pretty lady and a heavy load. I bet I know which one you’ll help with, Oscar.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” Oscar held out a hand to me and I let Samuel’s feet down to shake it.

  “Oscar, security relic and village idiot,” the man introduced himself. The touch of his hand brought no guile—no hidden depths, just a pleasant outlook on the world.

  “Ah, don’t listen to him, Elisabeth. He’s been around here almost as long as I have.”

  Oscar snorted, the sound amplified by his bushy white mustache. “Now who’s lying? No one’s been longer than you have. Let me take that for you.”

  He grabbed Samuel’s bottom half and started walking to my car. “What am I carrying? ’Cause I’ll be damned but it feels like a dead body.”

  “It should,” I grunted, completely not sure how to cover this one up.

  “It’s a vampire prop. One of the wax ones that melt so easy. The face is off so Elisabeth is taking it in for repairs,” Jeremy lied smoothly.

  “Guess a prop is better than the real thing!” His eyes opened wide while he made a ‘poof’ noise. The idea was so funny to him he rocked with wheezy laughter.

  I shook my head wondering how a guy like that saw vampires. Hollywood people didn’t seem to be as impressed with the supernatural. For some reason I expected everyone to act like the people in my hometown: respectful but skeptical. Hadn’t we all had the same “supernatural citizens are people too” presentation in fift
h grade?

  Ignorant of my musing, the old man went on with a wink. “The prop won’t poof though, just melt. It’s spooky how they go. Get ’em close to any kind of heat or just a little sunlight and the face is ruined. Got to be repainted.” He winked at me. “Guess you ladies know all about that. Faces and paint that is.”

  “Actually, my sister’s the makeup artist in the family.”

  “She around here?” Oscar asked Jeremy.

  Jeremy shook his head before I could answer. “She’s too good for Hollywood.”

  “The best ones are,” Oscar agreed.

  We reached my car and I popped open the trunk for them. It was an awkward fit but Jeremy took over like a champ, directing the elderly guard and telling me when to move the jumper cables and other trunk debris out of the way. Soon, Samuel was safely wedged in place. The trunk shut out any chance of sunlight getting to him. I tried to foist Jeremy off on Oscar but the older man wouldn’t leave. He kept telling Jeremy to hurry up and find a nice girl like me then finally he left. The last comment got to Jeremy though, making me curious.

  “How can you be such a decent guy and be so dangerous?” I said bluntly.

  Jeremy watched the people walk by us for a minute, studying faces, then took my arm and hauled me between two of the sound stages.

  “You need to leave this alone. You don’t have any idea what’s going on. I’m not the one who’s dangerous.”

  “You could tell me. Give me all the details and let me decide for myself. I might surprise you.”

  “I can’t. It’s a long and complicated story that’s too dangerous for you to know.”

  His hand was still on my arm. We weren’t skin-to-skin thanks to my shirt but if I flexed, I’d be able to read his thoughts. After the way Calvin had reacted, I’d been doing my best to keep my head to myself. But screw it. I wanted to know what Gina had gotten herself into.

  “What about Gina?” I asked. The mention her name took him to someplace happy, someplace light. There was nothing dangerous about how he felt for my sister. If I had to guess I’d say he loved her, rock solid, true love but tinged with sadness. “Why the sad face?”

  He looked at me, a little startled, and his grip tightened. “My face wasn’t sad. I’m an actor. My face is always what they want it to be. How’d you know I was sad, Elisabeth?”

  “That’s not what matters here, what matters is why.” I did my best to stare him down, eye-to-eye even though he was taller than me and had a good fifty pounds of pure muscle more than I did.

  “It’s a long story, but Gina is safe with me. You don’t have to worry about her.” He wasn’t lying but it didn’t make me feel any better.

  “What about when she’s not with you? If Samuel ended up bled dry in a basement, how’s Gina going to end up?”

  “She’s not.” His answer didn’t make a lot of sense. He was pissed—anger and rage came through his skin.

  “Whatever this is, I might be able to help. I run with a pretty tough crowd, one of them could—”

  “No,” he barked. “You need to stay away. I’m not going to risk anyone else. I’ll send your suitcase back with Gina next time I see her.”

  I’d seen people shut down, get worried they’d said too much and clam up. That wasn’t what Jeremy did. There was no worry, no concern—he just dropped my arm and backed away from me like he’d guessed I was reading him.

  With no goodbye and no real answers, I left Hollywood.

  18

  I called my client during my drive home. After I explained I had the hard evidence she wanted, she claimed she was busy all afternoon. I suspected her reluctance had more to do with not wanting to know and less to do with actual obligations but I kept my mouth shut. Maybe there were things people shouldn’t pry into. Privacy wasn’t an outdated concept, and if my client wanted some I could give it to her.

  When finished with the call, I made plans. Things to do that afternoon, places to go, how I’d hand the OPS paperwork off to Ted while William slept. All of it was a clever way of not thinking about Samuel wrapped up like a piece of meat in my trunk. He deserved to have the photos I’d found in his hotel room. Calvin would be asleep for most of the day but I called his cell phone anyway. Those pictures were the one piece of comfort Samuel had in the world. I didn’t want him to think they were lost.

  I drove straight to Jo’s place, emptying my pockets after I parked the car. It was late afternoon. There was a good chance Jo would be up. I didn’t want to risk burning her. Free of the burden of ecclesiastic treasures, I looked at the mound of crosses. They were mostly silver—heavy silver, even though vampires didn’t have a problem with that metal. In a way, they were stolen. The studio probably owned them. The same studio that paid the security guards, paid Jeremy, and maybe owned the car that almost killed me.

  Before this afternoon, I’d thought Jeremy was the problem. Now I wasn’t so sure. It might be him. It might be the studio. In the end his life was knotted together with the studio so tight I’d never be able to unwrap them. If I wanted to keep Gina safe, she’d have to stay away from both of them. I didn’t want to ruin my sister’s love life but I didn’t want her mixed up with anything that left vampire corpses behind.

  I’d distracted myself through the whole drive, but pulling up to Jo’s fountain made everything real. I heaved myself out of the car and toward the trunk. The back of the car was dirty from the drive. My sweaty palms made hand prints as I opened it. I looked at the lumpy package, trying to decide if it was Samuel or just his body. He’d scared me once, threatened and intimidated me but now he was nothing, dead. Wrapped in a plastic tarp from the hardware store and a bunch of brightly colored bungee cords, he somehow seemed more human. I dragged him inside, his weight strangely easier now that we weren’t in Hollywood.

  The front door was open but the house was quiet. I went toward the kitchen, not stopping to admire the harpsichord or check out the décor. I wanted to be done with this. As I went down the steps to the basement, the muscles in my arms finally gave up. They wouldn’t be struggling with slippery plastic any more. They were done. Samuel’s body fell down the stairs in graceless way that made me wince. He knocked and bounced on the way down, finally skidding to a halt by the four coffins outside of the bedroom door. Three coffins with people to match, one decoy, and I expected the decoy was booby-trapped.

  I could guess the newest of the four belonged to Douglas. The shiny steel looked like something out of a modern funeral, so I passed it. The decoy coffin was easy enough to find as dust covered the handles. That left two, both empty. The first one I opened, dark wood-carved with curling roses on the outside, held a small locket on the inside of the lid. I opened it, saw Samuel’s wife or maybe his daughter, and knew I’d made the right choice. After unwrapping him and putting him inside, I whispered he was home now, safe, and shut the lid.

  I thought about leaving, just turning around and going but the day had been full of obligations. It was time for something I actually wanted to do, like chatting with Jo or evading LaRue’s flirting. Sure, the flirting was meaningless, but I could use the ego boost—the safe, dependable, lecherous nature of someone pretty. It was sad what a girl could start to look forward to. Just pathetic really.

  After two knocks LaRue told me to come in. Inside, the two of them laid close in a bed smaller than my own. A refuge heaped with silk-covered pillows and soft-looking blankets.

  “Can I take that spot?” I asked, gesturing to the space on the other side of Jo.

  “There is always a place for you in our bed, Elisabeth. I made that offer long ago.” LaRue’s green eyes smoldered at me. He pulled the blankets back to invite me in, then stood naked, long, entirely too lean, and with that wonderful blond hair curling around his shoulders.

  “Uh-huh. Go make her breakfast.” His place in the bed wasn’t warm. Vampires didn’t have body heat to leave behind, so I pulled up the blanket. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for not being seduced and realized too late I was grinn
ing over just a few words.

  “Hi,” Jo said softly, still half asleep.

  “Hi back.” I smiled over at her, not the least bit upset I felt comfortable and protected in a vampire’s bed. “I brought Samuel home. He looks pretty bad.”

  Jo yawned. “Doesn’t really matter. He’ll be dead tonight.”

  “What?” All feelings of safety and comfort left me.

  “Samuel screwed up,” Jo answered, as if it explained everything. She stretched to the tip of her toes, making them long like a ballerina en pointe.

  “He didn’t screw up. He got jumped or beaten. You should see him, Jo. He looks like hell.”

  She rolled over to me, heart-shaped face framed by a thousand blonde curls, a pale blue nightgown making her look young. “He got caught. He made us send Calvin after him. But even if that wasn’t true, Jean-Laurent doesn’t really need him anymore. Why keep someone around after they screwed up when you don’t need them?”

  “Wait, why don’t you need him anymore?” Even as I asked it, I wondered why they’d needed him in the first place. What did Samuel do around here? What about Calvin? Calvin mentioned something about setting up the house but Jo and LaRue were pretty set up now. That chore wouldn’t need to be done for a while.

  “Jean-Laurent kept them to find me when I went back to Maman. I’m not going back to her again—we’re all one family. So why keep two detectives? Besides, we have Douglas now. He could replace Samuel.”

  “But…but you can’t just kill him like he’s nothing—just a servant or a machine. That’s just…”

  “Just what?” LaRue walked into the room with two mugs. He passed one to Jo and held the second out to me. It smelled like heaven, the perfect mix of coffee and cream. The first sip told me he prepared it just the way I like—one cream, one sugar.

  “You bought a coffeemaker?” I couldn’t recall ever seeing one in the kitchen.

  “A French press.” He slipped into bed next to Jo, not me, the three of us making it a tight fit.

  “Mmm, and this is good coffee, too.” I nearly swooned, drinking deeply. A dark roast with the flavor I loved—a hint of nuts, a little toasty.