Hours later, the cops were still trying to piece it all together while keeping the news trucks at a distance. Several detectives had now questioned Giles, Bryce, and the remaining estate staff numerous times. Their stories were surely a lot to take in. But they had all been mostly consistent and thus far more believable collectively than individually.
Likely simplifying the matters was Jacqueline’s full confession and directions as to where the authorities could find all the bodies in the morgue, the blueprints and plans for the game on her computer, and everything else they’d need to close the case quickly, despite its obvious, unique complications.
Bryce stood next to Giles on the steps of the mansion, watching as the cops put Jacqueline into the back of a squad car. As it drove away, the first rays of light from a rising sun hit the windshield and reflected a glare back at the mansion. Bryce shielded his eyes and turned toward Giles.
“So, what do you think she meant by that whole curse thing?” he asked.
“Such things are of course preposterous,” Giles answered calmly.
Bryce grinned and then nodded. “Well, I hope for your sake that you’re right about that, dude.”
Giles should have laughed at that nonsense about the curse. He knew that. But at the same time, he’d learned something from his experiences there at the Westlake Estate. And that was to always trust his gut going forward. If he had just trusted his gut in the first place, he never would have taken this godforsaken job.
And right then, at that moment, his gut was telling him that the curse was nothing to laugh at. That it would truly follow him wherever he went.
Which is what finally motivated him to visit a priest several weeks later.
Giles had never been a very religious man. Men of logic and reason, such as himself, generally had no use for organized religion. But at the same time, he’d felt a sort of darkness hanging over his shoulders since that day at the Westlake mansion. A darkness that he just couldn’t shake. A darkness that he could have sworn he’d even seen several times, blocking the sun, casting him in its vicious shadow.
The church was mostly empty, as he’d hoped it would be. There was a reason Giles had picked a Tuesday afternoon. He spoke to a nun in the entryway and she led him to a large office down a long hallway from the nave.
The balding, middle-aged priest smiled at Giles as he entered the office. He motioned for him to sit down. Giles glanced at the nameplate on the edge of the desk as he sat: FATHER JENKINS.
“So, I was told you needed to speak to me?” Father Jenkins said.
Giles nodded.
“But no confession?”
“Excuse me, sir?” Giles asked.
“You’re not practicing, are you?” Father Jenkins asked, still smiling.
“Not exactly,” Giles admitted. “Is that okay?”
“Of course, of course,” Father Jenkins said. “Please, what can I help you with?”
“Well, you see,” Giles started, not sure how to proceed. “Are there any cases of curses being… I mean, could a curse ever be real? Is that such a thing?”
Father Jenkins chuckled, but not in a mean-spirited way. He reacted almost as if he got asked that same question forty-five times a week and found its frequency funny.
“That depends,” he said.
“On what?” Giles asked.
“Curses come in many forms. A curse could mean many different things,” he said. “In a traditional sense, curses are not real, per se. But…”
“But…” Giles echoed, fearing what Father Jenkins might say next.
“But,” Father Jenkins continued, “some forms of curses can be very, very real if we allow them to be. If there is a true darkness within the bearer that he cannot expel, then it could very easily be called a curse. You see, Mr. Giles, some demons might never leave you. Your past and present are not always so dissimilar, and some things cannot be outrun.”
Giles swallowed but said nothing. He felt it then, the darkness all around him. Within him. Then he realized, with growing horror, as he sat there and looked into Father Jenkins’s unblinking eyes, that he had never told the priest his name.
And that the curse was real and he would never be able to escape it.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank Ellen Archer, Cris Abrego, Paul Lee, John Saade, Mark Bracco, Rob Mills, Laura Hopper, Chris Rylander, Bechara Gholam, Margaret Riley, Matt Weinberg, Kevin Yorn, Andy Stabile, Joe Cohen, Alex Kohner, Nick Gladden, Jonalyn Morris, Travis Oberlander, and all of our great partners at ABC Alternative.
Robert Voets/CBS Watch Magazine
ANTHONY E. ZUIKER is one of the most creative and multifaceted individuals working in Hollywood today. He is the creator of television’s hugely successful CSI franchise.
Zuiker is a pioneer in bridging the gap between Silicon Valley and Hollywood. Most recently, he created and executive produced Cybergeddon, a groundbreaking digital blockbuster, which launched globally on Yahoo! Cybergeddon brought to life the growing threat of cybercrime and engaged Yahoo!’s worldwide audience through an immersive storytelling, social media, and gaming experience.
Cross-platform storytelling has been a major theme in Zuiker’s career. He pioneered the “digi-novel” genre as author of the Level 26 series published by Dutton/Penguin Group. Zuiker is also the author of Mr. CSI: How a Vegas Dreamer Made a Killing in Hollywood, One Body at a Time published by HarperCollins.
Zuiker lives in Los Angeles with his three children and his wife, Michelle.
Copyright
Copyright © 2013 Greengrass Productions, Inc.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. For information address Hyperion, 1500 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.
eBook Edition ISBN: 978-1-4013-0591-8
First eBook Edition
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