“Must have been so cool doing a lot of things you did on that show!” Josh said.
“Yeah, it was,” Marnie said. She realized it had been. The show had been a positive thing in her life, and a deranged human being had tried to take it all away.
The show had been good to her, and through Josh, she could see that more clearly and appreciate it.
“I’ve had some training in fencing and a few classes in martial arts.” She laughed. “Nothing extensive—enough to get through the different scenes before our very talented stunt workers slipped in.”
“Never hurts,” Adam said. “Knowledge, even when we’re not sure we want to know, is seldom a bad thing.”
“Adam, can I get you a cup of tea or anything?” Angela asked.
“I don’t think I’ve ever turned down a cup of tea.”
“Dad really does love tea,” Josh said. “I have to admit, it’s one of the things that I do miss.”
“Oh! We don’t have to have tea,” Marnie said.
“Please—I love the very smell of it,” Josh assured her.
The women headed into the kitchen. As she reached into a cabinet for tea bags, Marnie looked over at Angela.
“He seems like an incredibly nice man. He runs...everything?”
“Yeah. The trick with Adam is that when he encounters anyone who doesn’t agree with him, he always has a friend above that person in the pecking order. He is nice—he’s also as strong as steel inside. Don’t let him fool you,” she added with a whisper and a smile. “He can be as hard as proverbial nails.”
“He lost his son when Josh was so young. It must have been excruciating.”
“I met him later, when he first formed the Krewe. But yes, it was agony for him. However, he managed to turn his loss around. So many people have been helped.”
“Me included,” Marnie said.
“Well, he has something up his sleeve,” Angela warned.
As they sat with their tea, Adam spoke up. “As I was saying. I realize that your case is ongoing, but I have infinite faith in the agents you have out here. You can’t have better people helping you.”
“I know,” Marnie said.
“So, anyway...I own a theater.”
He waited.
“You’re lucky,” Marnie said.
“I am. In many ways.”
And in many, he had not been so lucky, she thought, and she wanted to kick herself for the words.
“I’m an idiot,” she murmured.
She felt something on her hand. Josh was by her, grinning.
“It’s okay,” he said.
Adam continued, “My theater is in Washington. I have some incredible people working there, but they deal with adult theater. You would love them—three young women, like yourself, all involved with agents. Not that that is a prerequisite! What I’m saying is that if you want to leave Hollywood, and you really want a children’s theater, I have one for you.”
For a moment, Marnie just stared at him. Then she frowned. Hollywood had definitely made her careful.
And skeptical.
“It’s a bribe,” Adam said flatly.
“He’s been chasing Bryan for a while,” Josh explained.
“I value his military background as well as his abilities. But I don’t want Bryan unless he wants to be in the Krewe. Because we are a different kind of unit, being with us isn’t just a day job. It becomes a way of life. And our lives wind up twined together.”
“I...I don’t even know what to say,” Marnie told him. “I can’t speak for Bryan.”
“No. They are decisions you have to make separately—and together.”
She flushed slightly, glancing over at Josh. “Actually, we’ve never really talked about...”
“About the future? Yes, a future usually does depend on survival,” Adam said sagely.
Marnie sat silently, letting it all sink in for a moment.
“I have a meeting,” Adam said, rising. “I don’t need an answer now. I was just throwing it out to you.” He shrugged. “I heard that your children’s theater is a big dream for you. I obviously can’t offer you any kind of a big movie role,” he said. “So...”
“He could somehow—if that is what you really wanted,” Angela said, interrupting in a soft whisper.
Marnie looked at Angela and laughed. “You knew Adam was coming, and you knew why he was coming to see me?”
“I knew about half an hour ago—when Jackson called to tell me. You were sleeping.”
“Yes, then I was awake and—Oh!” Marnie said, turning to Angela. “I forgot to tell you. Jeremy Highsmith swears that he didn’t take any kind of pills. That—”
“He was having an affair with Cara. News travels fast in the Krewe.”
“We try to keep communication going at all times,” Adam said.
“Naturally,” Marnie said.
“Jeremy is a weak ghost... Cara is trying to help him. I never knew that they were a duo. But...they are together now. Jeremy believes he was poisoned through the salmon mousse at lunch yesterday.”
“And no one else had the mousse?” Adam asked.
“I didn’t try it—you know me. I never really eat when we’re working,” Angela said. “Jackson doesn’t like mousse, and Bryan doesn’t like salmon. As to the others...I don’t know.”
“I’m sure they’re on it,” Adam said, starting to head to the front door. “You have my offer. There is no pressure. But know that if you’re willing to come East, the opportunity is there. By the way, it’s a gorgeous historic theater. We’ve been working on it a few years now. It’s alive and well and thriving. All it needs is a children’s program.”
He smiled. “I have been a fan. A true pleasure, Miss Davante.”
“Bye, Adam,” Angela said.
“I’m out here until this one is wrapped up,” he said.
“Excellent,” Angela said.
Marnie hugged him impulsively. “Thank you. And I will let you know. Assuming that I survive.”
Josh could actually open a door; he did so for his father.
When Adam was out, Josh looked back at Marnie before she closed the door, and he said, “I am really—really, really, really—a huge fan. And, Miss Davante, you will survive.”
* * *
Jeremy Highsmith lay split open, his Y incision making him look like something unreal—something created just for Horror-palooza.
If he were to come back as a ghost himself, Bryan thought, he would definitely never attend his own autopsy.
Thank goodness Jeremy had decided to reach out to Marnie instead of trying to visit his own body at the morgue.
The ME on call was an older woman named Dr. Helen Franks. She looked as if she were continually tired, but then the morgue had been built to accommodate approximately 300 to 350 bodies, but often held over 400.
The death of Jeremy Highsmith had been given a high priority despite the fact that by all initial appearances, it seemed as though he had simply died from a heart attack. With a possible serial killer at work, this autopsy had been moved to the top of the list.
Jackson had told Bryan that Adam Harrison was in town. He was pretty sure that Adam’s presence meant that they would get anything they needed.
What was frustrating was that, even with all the help of the LAPD, they weren’t getting anywhere.
Maybe they were by pure process of elimination.
David Neal had acted criminally, but there was no way that he could have gotten to Jeremy Highsmith.
That left Roberta Alan, Grayson Adair, Vince Carlton and Malcolm Dangerfield.
“Special Agent, Detective... Mr. McFadden,” Dr. Franks said, addressing the three men around her and the split-open body on the gurney. “I will run more tests, but whether he was dating Miss Barton or not...this looks like an acci
dental death.”
“Is there any way to tell how he digested the drug?” Bryan asked Dr. Franks.
“I’m having the stomach contents analyzed. He hadn’t eaten for perhaps six or so hours before he died. Digestion had begun. But...we’ll see,” she promised them. “His heart...it wasn’t particularly bad. I have a list of his medications. Cholesterol levels seemed under control, but each year of our lives, we’re putting more and more pressure on our hearts.”
“What about the rest of his organs?” Detective Vining asked.
“Sound. Lungs were clear. He wasn’t a smoker. Good kidneys. For his age, he was in good shape.” She sighed. “I know you want more from me. Mr. McFadden, I know that you’re convinced he was somehow poisoned with the drugs or that he was given them by mistake, and yet, I’m afraid I can tell you—I’ve seen it too many times. People don’t realize that more of something isn’t necessarily better. I’m not meaning to be cruel, but the gentleman might have been looking forward to a really nice date, or...”
Her voice trailed. She thought he might have hired a prostitute. Bryan couldn’t blame Dr. Franks for her opinion. This wasn’t something that hadn’t happened before to many an older man anxious to prove he could get it up when he wanted.
“He wasn’t expecting a date.” He couldn’t tell her that he knew it because Jeremy had said so himself. “Mr. Highsmith had been seeing Cara Barton. Men that deep in mourning don’t usually hire prostitutes.”
“People deal with mourning in all manner of ways,” the doctor said. “I’m not judging. Just stating facts.”
“You’re going to find that the pills were ground up and put in his food somehow,” Bryan said with certainty.
There was nothing else he was going to learn from the autopsy.
He looked at Vining. “I’ll go back on guard duty,” he said.
Vining nodded. “We’ll be here.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Bryan promised.
He walked out of the morgue and headed to his rental car, fully intending to head back to the duplex.
But outside the morgue, he hesitated. He called Sophie Manning.
She didn’t answer.
Worried, he called Marnie. She answered right away.
“We’re fine,” she said. “Actually, Adam Harrison just left.”
“Yes, Jackson told me he’d come in. He’s...exceptional.”
“I agree. Bryan, he offered me a theater.”
“A theater? Oh, yes, I should have remembered that he owns one. My mom goes on and on about it—beautiful historic place. He’s giving it to you?”
“No, I’m sorry, not the whole theater. The children’s division of it. It’s mine if I want it.”
“Wow. He’s a fan of yours!”
“I think he’s a fan of yours. I think he put forward the theater as incentive for you to join the Krewe.”
“What did you tell him?”
He realized he was holding his breath. What if they just ran away? What if he swept Marnie up and carried her thousands of miles across the country? She’d be safe. LA—Hollywood—was this killer’s beloved place, his chosen venue, and had to do with his agenda.
Bryan knew it wouldn’t work. The questions would always remain. Blood would literally lie between them.
“I didn’t tell him anything. He didn’t ask for an answer right away.”
“Ah.”
“Do you have an answer yet?”
“I can’t answer about your theater.”
He felt her smile over the line. “About the Krewe.”
“I don’t know. Probably. I think.”
“Then...maybe. Probably. I think.”
A surge of warmth swept through him. He was pretty sure that it was happiness. Was it possible? They hadn’t known each other long enough.
“Are you coming home?” she asked him.
Home. It was thousands of miles away.
And yet it wasn’t. It was becoming anywhere...any place he could hold her in his arms.
They even had a dog.
“Soon. I have to stop by the police station. Any more Cara or Jeremy sightings?”
“No. All is quiet.”
“I will see you soon.”
Before he’d even hung up, Sophie was on the line, returning his call.
“I need to look at some of the video footage of Cara’s murder again,” he said. “Can you help me?”
“I was about to head out,” Sophie said. “But for you...”
“I don’t mean to ruin your life.”
“At the moment, this place is my life. Well, it’s more of a life—than my life. Never mind. Ignore me. I’ll be here.”
* * *
“Marnie, are you good with a conference call?”
Grayson Adair wasn’t going to let it rest.
“Grayson—”
“I have Roberta, Malcom Dangerfield and Vince Carlton on hold. Conference call?” he asked.
She was already outnumbered, she knew.
“No matter what we say—”
“You’ll have to talk to the cops, the agents and Bryan McFadden,” Grayson said.
“Right.”
She heard a click as she was connected with the others.
“Okay, so...we’ve spoken with the organizers. Everyone is devastated. Everyone loved Jeremy—those of us who knew him loved him as a friend. Those fans who didn’t know him, well, they still loved him. Marnie, he died of natural causes! Heart attack!”
She was glad there seemed to be no news out about the true cause of his death or the reason he had the heart attack.
“He’s still dead,” she said.
“But you knew him. He’d love it. And Cara would love it.”
“Would love what?”
“The entire convention stopping at noon tomorrow. I have a congregational pastor friend. He’s happy to say a few words that would be inclusive to many religions. He won’t even offend the atheists. We go back—we make money and we survive—and we honor them both, as well. You can give a eulogy if you want...or someone else can talk. We can allow the fans to mourn, and even if a fan isn’t a best friend, it’s still important. People need to have those they love and put on pedestals. And what if, by some chance, they can look down from heaven... Cara and Jeremy both would love it.”
“I’m happy to be a part of anything you want to do,” Malcolm Dangerfield said.
“He’s not being crude, really,” Roberta said.
Vince Carlton cleared his throat. “Marnie, it will be truly tasteful. At noon, they’ll announce a moment’s silence for the beloved stars of Dark Harbor so recently lost. And the pastor will speak. And anyone else who wishes to speak may do so—well, by anyone, I mean any one of us.”
“I don’t know,” Marnie said. “I don’t think it would be in the very best of taste.”
“That’s because you have other options. You were smart enough to sock money away,” Grayson said. “And good for you. All hail Princess Marnie, who was just talented and smart—right from the very beginning. Marnie, I am honestly sorry. But I have to live. Please. Jeremy would not mind.”
“Too bad we can’t ask him,” she said.
Then again, maybe she could ask him.
“He died of a heart thing, Marnie,” Roberta said. “I’m going to miss him, too. And I guess we’re really dead in the water when it comes to a new show—”
“Maybe not,” Vince said. “I’ve got the financing all lined up. I’ve called in a lot of favors for this. I’m committed to making it happen. We could do the kids—on their own. Grown-up, suddenly both parents gone, and they are on their own. All that stands between innocents and the hidden monsters that plague the world.”
Hidden monsters.
Hidden human monsters.
“I will le
t you all know.”
“Tonight, Marnie, please?” Grayson begged.
“I’ll do my best,” she promised.
She’d been on the phone in her room. When she hung up, Cara and Jeremy both began to appear before her.
“I’d love it,” Jeremy said.
“I would, too,” Cara said, clapping her hands together and looking heavenward as she spoke. “Stopping everything at Horror-palooza to honor us. I think it’s a fitting tribute. Marnie, you could speak. And you could tell everyone that we were a couple in real life!”
“And you could tell them all that I wasn’t taking drugs. I wasn’t trying to get it up. I wasn’t after sex.” He paused and looked at Cara. “The love of my life had just died.”
“Let me talk to Bryan when he comes in. You two, come out to the living room. Now! While you’re visible. Talk to Angela. She’s really good at...”
Dead people.
She couldn’t say that!
“She’s far more experienced with situations like this than I am,” Marnie said.
“Love to meet her,” Jeremy said.
Marnie hopped up and opened the door. She hurried into the hallway, calling to Angela, who was in the living room, still on the sofa, working with her computer.
She rose quickly.
“Angela, Jeremy is here. He’s going to tell you about his feelings, about everything that happened yesterday.”
“We’re going to find the truth,” Angela assured him. “Jeremy, you could tell me...”
No, he couldn’t.
Jeremy had made it out of Marnie’s room and down the hall. And then he had faded away.
“Almost,” Cara said simply.
And then, as if racing off to join him, she disappeared, as well.
* * *
Sophie set Bryan up at one of the station computers with three different cell phone videos of the murder of Cara Barton.
He’d already seen them. Over and over again.
But this time, he watched faces.
Roberta Alan sat on the other side of Cara Barton. She didn’t rise when Blood-bone came to the table; she was looking up as Cara and Marnie improvised...
Then she looked horrified—but not until Cara’s blood spilled on her.
David Neal stood in front of the table. He didn’t seem to have any reaction at all.
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