Krewe of Hunters, Volume 2: The Unseen ; The Unholy ; The Unspoken ; The Uninvited
Page 34
“Of course I believe he’s innocent. Now I have to prove it.”
“Oh, yes! I’ve tried to be there for him…. Eddie asked me to visit Alistair. They both say he didn’t do it. How wonderful that you think you can prove it,” Helena said. Her voice seemed thick with an air of insincerity.
“Helena, you know Alistair. You can’t possibly believe he could have done such a thing, can you?” Madison asked.
Sean couldn’t help giving her a little nudge with his elbow. He heard the grunt she tried to swallow. Luckily, Helena didn’t.
“I don’t want to believe it. But…I’ve worried so often about poor Alistair. I mean, Eddie is a genius, and most people in the business can tell the difference between reality and imagination—but I’ve warned Eddie! Sometimes, being around all that gore and all that make-believe blood…it has to have an influence.”
“You were with him earlier today, Helena. How is he doing?” Sean asked.
“Well, he’s in bad shape.”
“You didn’t let him know you don’t have complete faith in him, did you?” Sean half smiled to take the sting from his question.
“Oh, no! I do have faith in him,” Helena said.
“Mrs. Archer?”
Sean turned to see that Pierce had arrived at last. He was glad; Pierce was one person who truly loved Eddie. He made a good wage for what he did, and he was another factor in Eddie’s life on which he couldn’t be dissuaded. Pierce had handled the household since the very first Mrs. Archer, Alistair’s mother, had found him poring over classified ads at a coffee shop. She’d brought him home and they’d discovered that he could shop, clean and manage a school list without blinking an eye. He was indispensable. Pierce was gay and had been in a relationship with his high school love all of his adult life; his partner had died of bone cancer soon after Eddie’s first wife, and since that time, Pierce had given his total love and loyalty to Eddie and Alistair. In other words, Pierce was family.
But not, apparently, to Helena.
“What is it, Pierce?” she asked irritably.
“I was wondering if you would like to offer Mr. Archer’s guests some refreshment.”
Sean rose, walking over to Pierce and giving him a hug. “Pierce! Great to see you. How are you holding up?”
“Getting through, Mr. Cameron, getting through,” Pierce said. “Staying strong, because that’s what Eddie and Alistair need now.”
“It’s Agent Cameron, Pierce,” Helena drawled.
“Agent Cameron,” Pierce repeated.
“It’s Sean. You’ve known me forever, Pierce. I’m still Sean.”
Pierce wasn’t exactly the epitome of an old-fashioned butler. Or maybe he was the California equivalent. He was dressed in khakis and a short-sleeved cotton tailored shirt, and he wore sandals. He looked like an aging pool boy, still handsome with his blond hair turning silver and his year-round tan.
Sean imagined that it must be interesting to watch the dynamics between him and the newest Mrs. Archer—especially when no one else was around.
“Sean, what will you have?” Helena asked abruptly. “Madigan?”
“It’s Madison, Mrs. Archer,” Madison said politely. She had risen, too. Ignoring Helena, she walked over to Pierce and took his hand. “Eddie is in a bad way, and Alistair’s worse. I’m glad you’re here for them.”
“We all are!” Helena rose, as well, and walked over, handing Pierce the dog. “Will you take Perla for a walk?” she asked.
Sean wondered if she wanted him out of the way while they spoke or if she was just trying to prove that he was only the hired help.
“I’ll tend to drinks for our friends,” she went on. “Sean, a Jameson? That’s your poison of choice, if I remember.”
“To be honest, I’d go for some coffee right now,” Sean said. “Madison?”
“Coffee would be great,” Madison agreed.
Helena snatched the dog back. Clearly she wasn’t interested in the effort of actually brewing coffee. “Fine,” she sniffed. “Coffee, then, Pierce. Perla can run in the yard.” She hurried toward the French doors that led to the pool and patio area. “Now, no doo-doo by the water, Perla! Take it out to the back, that’s a good girl!”
“Coffee, coming right up,” Pierce said. He walked over to the kitchen and began preparing it. Helena caught hold of Sean’s arm, leading him back to the sofa and whispering, “Honestly…this house is impossible. These men—my husband, Pierce—they’re so lost. Oh, it’s dreadful. Everything is at a standstill. Did you know I was about to read for the part of Lady Macbeth in a new Shakespeare project? It’s going to be wonderful, filmed along the lines of Game of Thrones with lots of swords and sorcery. Even Eddie said that hot new director thought I’d be perfect for the role!” She pouted. “Of course now, God knows…”
The house phone rang and Pierce picked it up. “Yes, Eddie. They’re here now. Yes, I’ll tell them.”
He hung up a moment later and turned. “Mr. Archer is on his way,” he announced. He’d barely finished speaking when the phone rang again, and again Pierce answered it. As Helena looked at him expectantly, he covered the mouthpiece and said, “It’s Benita, Mrs. Archer. She’s calling to lend her support. Will you speak with her?”
Helena started to rise. “Benita?”
“Yes, the ex–Mrs. Archer,” Pierce said politely.
Helena paused, eyeing him with venom. Sean wasn’t sure if her dislike was now aimed at Pierce or Benita. She suddenly seemed to puff up. “No! You may tell her that I’m busy with the FBI. You may tell her that I’m far too distraught!”
Pierce dutifully did as bidden, assuring the second Mrs. Archer that he’d convey her feelings and support to her ex-husband. Sean suspected that Pierce used the word ex–Mrs. Archer on purpose, either to remind Helena that there were others who had loved Eddie and whom Eddie had loved, or that she, too, could be replaced.
“Oh, that woman! Calling now!” Helena said, shaking her head.
“I thought you two were friends.” Madison smiled sweetly. “I always felt it was so wonderful that you could have remained such good friends.”
“Yes, Helena. In fact, we met at Eddie’s marriage to Benita,” Sean said.
Helena waved a hand in the air. “Well, yes, we’re friends! But this is an intimate time. I’m here to support my husband.”
“I’m assuming you and Eddie were together when you got the call from Alistair last night?” Sean asked, keeping his tone sympathetic.
“Yes, yes. I was sound asleep,” Helena said. “And then the phone rang, and… My Eddie! My poor Eddie!” She hid her face in her hands.
“You’d both been here all evening?”
“Earlier, Eddie was out at some meeting, but I was here all day. Pierce can tell you that.” She turned, gesturing at him. He carried in a tray, then set it on the coffee table. He was quick and efficient; the silver serving tray had three filled cups and saucers, milk, cream, sugar and artificial sweetener—anything they might have wanted—as well as plates of cookies and scones.
“I mean, if you’re accusing me of anything!” she said, as if she’d just grasped the question, horrified at what it could imply. “Seriously? Sean! How could you even imagine that I…or Eddie! Oh, Sean! I thought you came here to be Eddie’s friend.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything, Helena.” Sean kept his voice calm. “I’m trying to get a complete picture of what happened last night. Eddie had a meeting, but you were here. And then Eddie came home. What about Alistair?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Pierce. I was out in the afternoon.” She paused, realizing that she’d just said she’d been home. “I was only out for an hour or so. Shopping. I was on Sunset. I can give you a list of the stores,” she said coldly.
“Helena—”
“How would you like your coffee, Sean? Do you still take it black?” Pierce asked.
“Yes, thanks,” he said.
“Alistair didn’t leave until seven-thirty las
t evening. He was up doing homework until then,” Pierce informed.
“So you weren’t home until after seven-thirty?” Sean said to Helena.
“Was it that late?” Helena asked Pierce. “I’m sure I was home by late afternoon.”
“No, Mrs. Archer. Alistair had gone about an hour before you returned.”
“Well, then, there you have it. Our living calendar and timepiece here—Pierce—can tell you exactly where I was!” Helena said. “And when,” she added.
Pierce ignored her, apparently accustomed to anything she had to say. “I saw her come home,” he told Sean. “She retired to her room after that and I didn’t see her again until the phone call came.” He smiled.
“I hear a car!” Madison set down her coffee and rose. “I think Eddie’s here.”
Pierce strode to the door and opened it quickly, waiting while Eddie Archer parked his car in the drive. Eddie trudged toward the house, looking haggard and sad. He seemed to perk up as he entered and saw that both Sean and Madison were there.
“Sean, welcome, and Madison, my dear, thank you for hanging in with this. In this town, the people who love you can turn against you in the blink of an eye, so it’s good to have friends,” Eddie said. “Real friends.”
“I just made coffee,” Pierce said.
“Yes, darling.” Helena walked over to Eddie, slipping an arm around him. “I was so enjoying conversation with your friends.”
Eddie didn’t seem to hear the edge in her voice. He was distracted, squeezing her in return and pecking her cheek, his eyes never leaving Sean’s.
“Well, can you help me?” he asked anxiously. “Can you at least stop them from crucifying Alistair without even looking into other possibilities?”
“Eddie, there’s definitely room for a great deal of investigation,” Sean said. “Don’t lose heart. I want to see the security videos myself and search the studio some more, plus the surrounding area, and check out everyone and everything in the immediate vicinity. The D.A.’s office will prepare their case against Alistair, but you and your attorneys have him at the best possible place for now. The kid has to be hurting, and they can help him there. Not only that, he’s out of harm’s way. Yes, you’ll hear terrible things—and you’ll have to expect that.”
Eddie nodded, and Sean prayed he could prove that Alistair was innocent. In the meantime, he wanted Eddie to remain positive, but it was going to be a long haul. He could imagine what the court case was going to be like.
“Thank you, my friend. Thank you. Where do we go from here?” Eddie asked.
“Tomorrow night, the rest of my team arrives. We’ve already been invited in, so we can set up at the police station. I met Detective Benny Knox. We’ll be working in conjunction with him.”
Eddie made a face, and Sean tried to reassure him. “Eddie, I’m with you all the way on this, but you have to see how it looks to others. As far as anyone’s been able to tell thus far, Alistair was alone at the Black Box Cinema, Colin Bailey was on guard at the studio and Jenny Henderson managed to slip in. We have to prove otherwise, and that means delving into everything. Alistair’s life, your life, friends, enemies—”
“And me,” Helena put in. “Eddie, Sean wanted to know where I was last night!”
Eddie remained distracted. He didn’t respond to her complaint, if he even heard it. “Anything—anything. Whatever you need. I’m here, and I’ll give you anything you want, and everyone around me will be as helpful as possible, too. Right?” He looked at Helena, and it was evident that he’d hardly been aware of her.
“Of course, sweetheart, of course,” Helena said.
Eddie stepped away to face Madison, taking her hands. “Thank you, thank you, Madison. I know this isn’t what you do…but I need you. This is Alistair’s life,” he said passionately.
Madison gazed back at him, and Sean saw himself, years before, when he’d first met Eddie. The guy was an absolute icon, an idol to anyone who loved special effects. And he was so down to earth, so generous…Sean could see that she was controlling her emotions as she listened to him and then spoke. “Eddie, Alistair is a great kid, a great person, and I’m happy to be there for him—and for you—in any way possible.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Eddie said again. “Sean, what do you need from me now?”
“Your schedule yesterday.”
Eddie nodded. “Woke up, ate bran flakes here and ran by the studio, just to see that everything was okay for lockdown. After that, I left and met with Myron Silver and Harvey Anderson, producer and director on the Shakespeare movie that’s gearing up. I went back to Harvey’s home studio to look at his storyboards. I talked to Alistair on the phone about seven to see if he was up for dinner, but he’d already eaten at home with Pierce, so I went to a fast-food drive-through, grabbed a veggie burger and came home. I watched a few of my cooking shows and went to bed. And then I got the phone call. I rushed to the Black Box, and then to the police station, where I called my lawyer. And soon after that, I called you and…” He shrugged. “Then I called the governor. I campaigned for him, and I said I needed help and that I thought I knew the people who could provide it.”
“When was the last time you saw Alistair?” Sean asked.
“At breakfast.”
Pierce cleared his throat. “Alistair was here all afternoon. He was on the computer for a while, and he took a swim.”
“If you think the kid’s innocent, why are you asking questions about him?” Helena demanded.
“Because it proves where he was before the murder, and that he wasn’t at the studio or the museum stashing the knife,” Sean said.
“But if he killed the girl in a jealous rage—” Helena began to say, then obviously remembered that Eddie was there, and that while Alistair might not be her biological son he meant the world to her husband. She flushed. “I’m just afraid that’s how the police will probably see it,” she mumbled.
“And that’s why we have to find out who might’ve been at the studio. Who knows it well enough to hide there and escape and to do it without tracking blood anywhere,” Sean said evenly.
“Someone could have planned this?” Eddie asked in horror.
“Someone would have to have planned it. Someone who knew the studio, like I said, but also your son’s schedule, the movie and special-effects business, and either knew about evidence or studied police and forensics procedure,” Sean told him. “The answer isn’t going to jump out at us. We’re going to have to dig until we find it.”
“We’ll dig. We’ll dig into anything and everything. Everything.” Eddie repeated the last word fervently.
“I’ll need to visit Alistair tomorrow,” Sean said. “For now, I’m sure Madison wants to get home, and I need to check in to my hotel.”
“You can just stay here, you know,” Eddie offered.
“Eddie, you made wonderful hotel arrangements for us. Actually, I wouldn’t mind some time alone, until my team shows up. Space to think.”
“Then, by all means, get checked in. I put your luggage in the little Prius outside. I figure you can use that while you’re here.”
“Great. Thanks, Eddie.”
Eddie groped in his pockets and came out with a handful of keys. He dropped several; they all bent down to retrieve them at the same time. Madison banged into Sean and he caught himself once again studying the young woman with the wide eyes who was supposed to help him.
The girl who spoke to ghosts, or so Eddie said.
He paused for a moment. She was stunning, and in a way a woman like Helena would never understand. Those eyes of hers! Blue as the sky and framed by rich dark lashes. Her face was a classic oval that no amount of money could buy. Her dark hair was long and naturally wavy. He couldn’t avoid noticing that her body was shapely, lean, athletic—with curves in all the right places. Curves that weren’t exposed by a low-cut neckline or contained in sausage-skin pants.
Startled by his assessment—and trying to tell himself that it was so positi
ve because he really disliked Helena—he stood again, glancing at her apologetically.
“I’m sorry, Madison. I’m fumbling all over the place.”
“No, I’m sorry. I dropped the keys,” Eddie muttered.
“It’s understandable, Eddie,” Madison said. “And I’m just fine.”
“I was driving competently all day, I swear it,” Eddie insisted, half-humorously.
Sean grinned. “We know. We drove with you.”
“All right. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Eddie said.
“As I said, I’ll see Alistair,” Sean told him. “Can you tell them I’ll be there, midmorning?”
“Definitely, and he’ll be glad to see you—and Madison, too. Will you come and assure him he has friends?” Eddie asked her.
“Yes,” Madison said. “Of course I will.”
Eddie nodded, his expression grateful. “They’re giving Alistair a sedative tonight. Doctor says he’ll sleep for hours.” He looked at Sean again. “If the cops could just understand what this has done to him, how he’s feeling…they’d know he couldn’t have done it.”
Helena put a hand on his shoulder. “Are they keeping the studio closed, Eddie? What about the work you have going on?”
“We’re still down tomorrow. We’ll be back up in a day,” Eddie said, frowning.
“You have so many people depending on you for their livelihood, dear,” Helena said softly. “Like Madison.”
“I’m okay with whatever you choose to do,” Madison told Eddie. “As I’m sure everyone at the studio is.”
Eddie almost smiled. “The police want to go through the studio once more. And then, apparently, it’s all right for business to go on as usual, even if your son had been accused of murder and a girl died horribly on your property. Oh, Sean, I’m assuming your team will want to search the place, too?”
Sean nodded. He was fairly certain that Eddie believed their relationship meant there was someone who cared actively seeking the truth. He also realized that Eddie Archer had read up on the Krewe of Hunters. And he might have called them in simply because he had a greater belief in the FBI—or because he’d learned something about the Krewe and hoped that one of them could just speak to a ghost and come up with the answer he wanted.