“Special effects can create amazing films,” Jennifer heard herself argue.
Joe nodded. “Yes, and there are great special-effect films out there. But look at the old Haunting with Julie Harris and Claire Bloom. Nothing happened. Nothing really. A few doors rattled. It was all atmosphere and psychological suspense. Spectacular. It’s still a scary movie, a very scary movie.”
“Fear is all in the mind,” Conar said. “And there’s nothing as frightening as what the mind can do, is that what you’re saying?”
“Exactly,” Joe agreed.
Across the room, Liam Murphy made something like a strangling sound. “There’s real fear, too, ladies and gents,” he said flatly. “Of course,” Conar said, walking across the room. He set his glass down on the bar, barely noticing Jennifer there. “Real … and psychological. You, Hugh, and you, Joe. You’re both obsessed with the films of Hitchcock.”
“Obsessed is a rather strong word,” Hugh protested.
“We admire him,” Joe said, looking defensively to Hugh for agreement, as if the two, who had argued just minutes earlier, were now the best of friends.
“Hm. Well, the ‘psychological’ with, say, Hitchcock’s famous shower scene,” Conar continued, “is that the knife never touched Janet Leigh. We saw the knife, saw her face, saw the flashing blade, saw the shadow of the killer. But the result was the ‘real.’ She was stabbed to death.”
“The point, of course, is that we don’t really need all the gore.”
“I agree. Hitchcock was a great filmmaker,” Conar said. He stared at Joe Penny. “So why do we try to imitate him? We should move on to something new. Especially in a soap.”
“Soaps should have suspense,” Joe protested.
“Thank God I do movies,” Hugh muttered. “And Abby, you’ve a part anytime. We’ll rewrite anything for you. And Jennifer. And hell, maybe we could talk Conar into a role. Wouldn’t that be the feat of the century?”
“Conar would never agree,” Andy Larkin said.
Conar shrugged suddenly. “Who knows? If Abby and Jennifer were to agree …”
“A whole damned family affair,” Drew Parker muttered.
“If you all will excuse me … ,” Abby announced. “I’m so delighted that you’ve all come, and I’ve had a wonderful time. But …”
Conar was instantly at her side.
“Let me help you, Mom,” Jennifer said quickly, setting down her glass and walking around the bar. Conar already had her arm, Jennifer could see that her tremors were beginning to set in. Abby had waited a bit too long.
“Jennifer, stay with our guests. Conar will see me to my room.”
She kissed Jennifer’s cheek. Jennifer was loath to let her mother go.
“Good night, Mom.”
“Good night, everyone. Once again, thank you all for coming.”
Conar escorted her, and Abby swept out. She kept her chin high. She might have been walking down the aisle after the Academy Awards.
“Jennifer?” Hugh Tanenbaum said.
“What?”
“Your mother looks wonderful.”
“Absolutely wonderful,” Andy agreed ruefully.
“She doesn’t want to work,” Jennifer said firmly.
“She didn’t say that,” Joe told her.
“Hey, lay off,” Serena butted in.
“Serena!” Andy said sternly.
“Abby is ill, and you are all fools if you don’t see it,” Serena persisted.
“Jennifer is here with her all the time; she’s her daughter, and she knows what Abby is really thinking and feeling,” Kelly said.
Andy started toward Jennifer, stopping right in front of her.
He smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. He was a solid man, tall and broad in the shoulders, and imposing when he chose to be.
“Maybe Jennifer is just a little jealous.”
“What?” she demanded sharply.
“You are like a pit bull, keeping everyone away from Abby. Abby looked great tonight. Abby was really famous. Maybe you’re just a little jealous, wanting to keep Abby out of the spotlight.”
Jennifer felt her face flood with color. She didn’t think that she had ever been so furious. She wanted to hit him. “Andy, you’re an a—”
She didn’t say the words that might have gotten her fired. Help came this time from an unlikely source.
“Andy, you can be an idiot,” Conar said, striding casually back into the room. He had obviously heard the comment. To Jennifer’s surprise, he came to her side. Smiling, he said, “My stepsister is surely one of the loveliest creatures to ever grace the earth. She adores Abby and wants to keep her from being tormented by money-hungry mongrels like you, Joe, and Hugh.” His eyes remained on her for a second. “She has an assistant pit bull, now, you know.”
Andy turned and walked away. “Maybe, just maybe, Abby wants to work,” he said.
“I’d never keep Abby from working,” Jennifer flared.
“Hey, we’re keeping that horror movie in mind, right, Jen?” Conar said dryly.
“Oh, certainly. Right.”
“Enough!” Vera announced suddenly. “This is Abby’s house, Jennifer was kind enough to invite us. Mr. Parker, do tell us more about the legends regarding the house.”
“Vera,” Jennifer protested, “you passed out when you saw Liam in the window.”
“I didn’t exactly pass out,” Vera protested.
“No,” Hank said teasingly. “You swooned. Far more ladylike.”
“Very Southern.” Jay Braden laughed.
“Are we supposed to be Southern?” Kelly asked.
“Southern Italian, if anything,” Hank assured her.
“I think my character was originally from the South,” Vera said, fluffing up her hair. She winked at Jennifer and smiled. Jennifer smiled back. Vera could act like an airhead, but mostly it was an act. Vera had been drawing the fire away from her.
“What else happened in the house?” Vera persisted.
“There was the magician in the box,” Doug said.
“I even heard that story,” Thorne announced. “He was supposed to escape—like Houdini. He wasn’t in the box when they opened it the first time, certain that he couldn’t make it out on his own and that he’d suffocate if they didn’t bring him out.”
“Well, what happened?” Kelly asked.
“This is a great story,” Hugh commented, sipping from his drink.
“A day later, the magician still hadn’t shown up. It was as if he disappeared into thin air,” Drew said.
“Where was he?” Serena asked. She grimaced to Jennifer—drawn into the story although she hadn’t wanted to be.
“Where he was when they couldn’t find him, no one knows,” Drew said. “Where he was when the police finally arrived was back in the box. Dead.”
“Of asphyxiation?” Kelly breathed.
“Heart attack,” Jennifer provided.
“But how—”
“No one knows,” Drew said, his voice throaty and suggestive again. He was the perfect storyteller. “He disappeared, and reappeared, dead. That’s all anyone knows.”
“Oh, my God, no wonder the house is said to be haunted,” Vera breathed.
“The house is not haunted,” Jennifer protested. She was back behind the bar again. This time she put ice into her drink and squeezed a lime into it. Her head was spinning. Dumb. She was going to have one hell of a hangover. She prayed her words weren’t slurring. Maybe the house was haunted. It seemed to be swaying and spinning a bit. Special effects in the wall, maybe. And the floor. It was dipping and weaving.
A few minutes later, Serena said she had to go. Jennifer walked out to the car with her and Kelly. “Well, life is interesting,” Serena mused as she paused by her bright blue Mazda. “Conar Markham is … compelling.”
“A hunk,” Kelly supplied dryly at her side.
“Of course. Why else hire him?” Jennifer asked, trying to sound blithe.
“Why else?�
� Serena asked, smiling. “Well, I am glad he’s joined the cast. He will improve our ratings. He has … a chemistry that kind of jumps out at you.”
“Animal magnetism,” Kelly supplied.
“He’s just a charmer,” Jennifer agreed, clenching her teeth.
Serena, studying her, laughed. “Okay, fine, don’t like him. But I do. You don’t mind that, do you, Jen? I mean, I understand about your mom and all, even if those assholes working around us don’t begin to get it.”
“Go right ahead. You should like him,” Jennifer said. “He, well, he doesn’t spend a lot of time in front of a mirror. Not that I know of, at any rate.”
“Too much raw animal in him,” Kelly teased.
“And you were telling me you’re afraid of that biological clock ticking,” Jennifer murmured. “He’s perfect, you’re perfect … It would all be …”
“Just perfect,” Kelly said, supplying an ending once again.
“Hey, guys, I just meant that I’d like Jennifer’s permission to be friends with the fellow, that’s all,” Serena said.
“Serena,” Jennifer said uncomfortably, “you don’t need my permission to be friends with him. You’re making me feel awful.”
“I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry—I just phrased it all badly,” Serena protested. “It’s just that … well, I am your friend first.”
“We’re just like the three Musketeers, ‘all for one, and one for all’!” Kelly said, her eyes alight, laughing. “But, Jen, it would be kind of sad to waste a studly hunk like that.”
“Oh, God, don’t waste the hunk,” Jennifer said, shaking her head.
“But if you feel—” Serena began.
“I’m serious. He’s trying to be decent—I think,” Jennifer murmured. “Get in your cars, go home, you all have my blessing to fraternize with the enemy.”
“That’s the point. I don’t want to fraternize with your enemy,” Serena said.
“Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, go away, biological clock!”
At the sound of Doug’s voice, all three of them spun around. He grinned, walking in among them, taking a seat on Serena’s car. “No, don’t panic. I’m the only one who happened in on this girl talk. Wonder Boy hasn’t heard a word. The studly hunk is inside, talking in a studly manner, with the studly cop.”
“Doug, it’s really rude to join in uninvited on the conversations of others,” Jennifer informed him.
“I’m just trying to save a few friendships here, so I’m going to insist on honesty. Jennifer, you don’t care if Serena makes a play for the new hero, even though he has come to usurp your position in life and the world, and you’re doing your best to be dignified and civil.”
“Doug, you’re being overdramatic. You’ll never write the great American novel that way.”
“Ouch, that hurts.”
“I never asked anyone to be rude or nasty to Conar.”
“Serena, feel free to sleep with him.”
“Hey, I didn’t say I wanted to make a play for him, or sleep with him, or—”
“Jennifer, you said that someone should sleep with him, didn’t you?”
“Doug, go home.”
“I’m staying here.”
“Not if you don’t behave.”
“I’m wounded. I came to protect her from the evil machinations of the stud muffin, and she stabs me in the heart.”
Jennifer gave him a sniff and waved a hand in the air, “Johnny Walker, I think.”
He sniffed back. “Vodka.”
“Don’t go sniffing me. I had one drink hours ago, and went to soda and lime and coffee. Go to bed, both of you,” Serena said.
“Good night,” Kelly said.
Motors seemed to be humming all over the grounds. Others were leaving. Jennifer said and waved good night in all directions.
Doug gave her a kiss on the cheek as they neared the house. “Good night, Jen. And hey, thanks so much for having me. I’m really enjoying the weekend.”
“You’re going to bed?”
“Before I pass out.”
“But …”
He didn’t seem to hear her. He started up the stairs. Then he paused, turning back. “Hey, Jen.”
“Yes?”
“You know, we have some pretty special friendships on that set. You and Serena and Kelly and me … and a few more, of course.”
“Of course.”
“So make sure you mean what you say.”
“Look, I’m really trying to be nice and knock the chip off my shoulder and—”
“I believe you. I just think there’s more. Chemistry, you know.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You drank too much tonight.”
“You drank too much tonight.”
Doug grinned. “Night, sweetie.”
She shook her head, starting back toward the den, then hesitating. She should just follow Doug upstairs, go to bed. Leave Conar to say good night to Liam and close the house down for the night.
She hesitated too long.
“Jennifer?”
Run up the stairs? Why? She wasn’t afraid of the enemy within. She squared her shoulders and walked on into the den.
They’d been sitting in the wing-back chairs by the mantel, but both men had risen, knowing that she was coming. She didn’t head toward them, but found herself veering for the bar. This wasn’t going to do. She was only a social drinker, one or two at a party. Tonight, she had probably changed her blood levels.
She could just imagine the conversation she’d eventually have with him. Could you leave, please? I really do love my mother, I’m trying to get through this, and you’re turning me into an alcoholic.
Ah, yes, he was already looking at her disapprovingly. I didn’t make you drink too much. Only you could make you drink too much, he would say. Mr. Perfect. Always right.
She poured herself a drink, ignoring them both for a moment. Then she smiled radiantly at Liam. “I’m so glad you came to the party tonight. Did you enjoy yourself? We’re an eccentric crowd, certainly.”
Conar approached the bar and took the glass from her hands after her first sip. She stared at him indignantly. “Don’t patronize Liam. He’s been around lots of movie and TV types before.”
Her eyes widened. “I wasn’t patronizing anyone, Conar, and I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d let me say what I like.”
She was startled to see Liam had come to the bar, too, that they were both looking far too serious. “Detective Murphy, I meant no offense.”
“I know you didn’t.” His smile was charming. He had a great, broad chest. She wished that she could throw herself against it. She’d definitely had a few too many because she was suddenly wondering if that would work. Telling Conar that he could go away, she was going to start sleeping with a big brave cop and she’d be fine.
Color rushed her cheeks with the thought. She didn’t know if the cop was married, engaged, or what. She gave herself a shake. She’d been taking care of Abby too long.
“I feel a little edgy here, like a cornered rat,” she murmured.
“We were just talking,” Liam told her.
She reached for her glass, feeling their scrutiny. Was there a large dirt smudge on her face? Spinach in her teeth—no, they’d had no spinach. And she hadn’t eaten.
Conar’s hands were firm on her glass. “Jen, enough.”
“Detective Murphy, could you inform Mr. Markham for me that it’s a free society, I’m in my home, I’m over twenty-one—”
“Liam was just telling me something I thought you should know,” Conar said.
“What?” she asked uneasily.
“You know what Luminal is?” Liam asked.
She frowned. “Yes, I think so. The police spray it to show traces of blood that can’t be seen with the naked eye.”
“That’s it,” Conar told her.
“We sprayed around Brenda’s home this evening, trying to trace the exact movements of the killer. Th
e house had appeared to be in perfect order, but …”
“She was definitely killed in the shower, Jen. Stabbed to death in her own shower,” Conar supplied.
She suddenly wanted to escape them both. “I’m so, so very sorry about Brenda!” she whispered. “But what does it have to do with—”
“Shades of Hitchcock, Jennifer,” Conar persisted, staring at her. “Who are the sort of people who would try to imitate Hitchcock?”
She felt a strange shivering of fear again, deep down inside. She recoiled from it, and she was furious with both of them.
“Just let us watch over you, huh?” Liam asked softly, meeting her eyes. “I’ve got to go; early morning,” he said. “Good night, Jennifer. Thank you. It was a great party.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Conar said.
They left the den and went outside. Jennifer hesitated, then hurried out herself. She wanted to get up the stairs and into bed before Conar returned.
Almost to the top of the stairs, she missed her step. She didn’t exactly tumble down the stairs. She slid. She landed at his feet. Her cheeks turned the shade of a cardinal’s robe. He reached down, helping her up, and managing to somehow pin her to the wall as he did so. He was tall. Whipcord hard. Chemistry. She didn’t want to feel it, she had denied it for years …
“You’re drunk. I’ll help you.”
“I’m not drunk. Anyone can tell you that I barely drink at all.”
“You’ve been making up for it tonight.”
“Well, you and a cop keep trying to tell me that someone is going to kill me.”
“I never said that.”
His face was close to hers, his eyes … The color was like steel, sharp, probing. His body was hot, nearly touching hers. He had a handsome face, well formed, and yet rugged. She found herself fascinated with the texture of his cheeks. His scent, at this close range, was intoxicating.
Chemistry …
He did have it. Yes, definitely …
“You and Liam are badgering me.”
“Because you don’t listen.”
“What am I not—”
“Let me look after you.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
“You’ve quite bluntly told me you resent my being here.”
“Look, I …” All she could picture was Kelly, laughing, telling her and Serena that he was a studly hunk. She started to smile.
Long, Lean, and Lethal Page 11