“I don’t want to be an idiot,” she murmured. “But...we have no idea who the dead man in our pool might be. Bizarre, maybe, but it’s possible someone just decided to murder someone in our backyard. We seriously don’t know the guy.”
“I believe you. We all believe you. That’s not the problem,” McFadden said. He gave Marnie something of an understanding smile. “These things really can’t be random. Cara butchered. A man breaking the window in your bedroom. Now a man being killed and left in your pool.”
“He’s right. It is getting late, and we can’t get the alarm system yet. We do have George now. And he’s already proved himself to be a great guard dog. George would die for us, I’m quite certain,” Bridget said valiantly.
He smiled. It was a damned good smile, Marnie had to admit.
“What’s sad is that George might die for you, and you might still die, too. Don’t get me wrong—George is great.”
As he spoke, Sophie Manning came over to join them. She hunkered down, too, her smile a little grim as she reached out a hand carefully for George to sniff and then patted him, as well.
“I’m so glad you have the pup,” she said, scratching his ears. She looked at Marnie. “I’d stay if I could, but...” She hesitated and then shrugged. “A friend of mine...is ill. I try to spend time with him, too, and...long story, but...”
“I can stay,” McFadden said. He looked at Marnie, waiting for her to protest.
She didn’t protest. She didn’t understand why—certainly not under her circumstances—she was watching both McFadden and Sophie Manning. The young detective was really attractive. The petite bundle of lean energy and determination would probably be perfect for such a man. McFadden was so...alpha. Ah, but maybe two alphas didn’t mix so well.
They were both so...desirable.
Such crazy thoughts.
Like speaking with the dead.
Where was Cara Barton? Had the ghost of her friend been hanging around her house? Had she possibly seen what had happened?
Why was she feeling jealous regarding Sophie Manning and Bryan McFadden?
“Marnie?” Bridget said.
She was about to answer.
“I don’t want to put anyone in an uncomfortable position,” McFadden said. “If you’re really disturbed by the idea of me in here, or...if there is someone in your life who could be upset, we’ll have to start looking at other options. But I really suggest you two not stay here alone tonight—even with George.”
“Oh, there’s no one in our lives, not at the moment,” Bridget told him. “I was seeing Chip Denson—he’s an actor. Or he claims to be an actor. I swear, no one knew that he’d starred in that porno when he was hired for Revenge of the Venus Flytrap. Oh, he is good-looking, I’ll give you that. And...in good shape. But...trustworthy? And an actor? Revenge of the Venus Flytrap might have been a bit believable without him!”
“I’m, uh, sure,” McFadden murmured.
“Anyway, we are long over, and I’m feeling very, very punch-drunk when it comes to men, thanks to him. And Marnie was dating Ethan Hook—the host on that adventure series—but that just kind of went away with a whimper, you know? He’s a little hung up on himself. I think it was when he was so rude to the waiter at the Beverly Hills Hotel and Marnie decided that was it.”
Marnie felt her face flaming. She did not need her personal life exposed so...pathetically.
“We’re fine with it. We don’t want to put anyone out,” she said, her tone cold and flat.
“As you know...” McFadden said.
“Yes. You’re here—because of me. And Mom,” she added sweetly.
“Oh, did you know Maeve McFadden?” Sophie asked.
Marnie looked at Bryan McFadden. “No,” she said softly. “But Cara did.”
“They were friends. Well, that’s it then,” McFadden said. “When the cops clear out, I’ll stay. Pick a side of the duplex. One takes her own room, the other the guest room and I’ll take the sofa.”
“Lovely,” Marnie murmured.
“We were at my place last night. We’ll do your place tonight,” Bridget said.
“As you wish,” Marnie said. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
George woofed, as if approving the arrangements.
“Excuse me, then. I’ll let Detective Vining know what I’m doing,” McFadden said.
When he was gone, Sophie looked apologetically at Marnie. “I really like you both so much, and I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I would really love to just stay until... I just...”
Marnie told her, “You’ve been great—above and beyond. And it’s all right. You don’t owe us anything, certainly not an explanation. Not many off duty detectives would have stayed with us last night.”
Sophie blushed, giving her attention to George. “I know I don’t... It’s just...my friend Andrew doesn’t have much time left, and he needs a great deal of help. There are organizations, of course, but...we were a thing, all through high school. Then college. And we drifted and came back together and then drifted and...I still love him very much.”
“Oh, my Lord, I am so sorry!” Marnie said.
“Oh, Sophie,” Bridget said, and being Bridget, she slid down by Sophie and hugged her. “And you go to work each day, working so hard. And you still worry about us.”
“Hey, it’s...life,” Sophie said. “But thank you both.” She let out a breath, glancing at Marnie. “I have to say, I can’t imagine I’m causing you a hardship—having McFadden stay with you. The man is...the man is!”
“Funny, I was thinking you two would be perfect for each other,” Marnie said.
Sophie laughed softly. “You think? How bizarre. You haven’t noticed the sparks between the two of you, huh? I do believe my chemistry radar must be much finer than yours.” She rose, helping Bridget back to her feet.
“I’m taking off for now. We’ll be waiting for what information Doc Priss and the crime scene people can give us. Take care—with every move you make,” she added softly.
“I’ll make sure she does,” Bridget said. “I’m going to run next door and get a few things,” she told them, looking at Sophie.
Bridget hugged the detective one more time.
“You’re amazing,” she said.
Sophie looked uncomfortable. “Just getting by—like most of us—the best way we can. Andrew is such a great guy. Did so much for so many people, and now... Anyway! Bridget, I’ll step over to your place with you while you get what you need.”
“Do you really think anything could happen now?” Marnie asked. “This place is crawling with cops and techs and—guns!”
“I imagine at this moment, this is certainly one of the safest places anyone could possibly be,” Sophie said. “But just be careful—in the days to come. We will find out what’s happening. Cara’s killer will be brought to justice.”
“I believe you,” Marnie said. “And I will be careful, I promise.”
In another hour, her house had cleared out.
There was still crime scene tape all over her backyard.
She wondered if she’d ever be able to get back into her own pool, if she’d ever feel that the dead man’s blood was entirely washed away.
She wouldn’t think about it now.
It was nearly midnight when she, Bridget, McFadden and George were finally alone. Bridget bid her a good-night, telling her she was going to try to be bright and perky and brilliant for the writers’ meeting.
George asked to go out; McFadden insisted on taking him, just out in the front yard.
When he returned, Marnie found she was still restless. She needed to go to her own room—with its nice new glass, all the broken stuff cleaned out now.
She needed to sleep.
But she had no meetings the next day. If anything, she needed to call her agent and find out if there were any offerings out there that might earn her a bit more money while she waited anxiously on her children’s theater.
But that was it.
She perched again on the wingback chair in the living room as McFadden walked back in with the dog.
The house seemed incredibly quiet.
They seemed very much alone.
She reminded herself Bridget was sleeping in the guest room.