“How do you know that?”
“Speculation. So far, all they’ve said is a dead man was found in the pool of an actress living off Barham Boulevard. People who have any clue know it’s you, and people with any suspicion go ahead and say it, and then...”
“Okay,” she said quietly.
“Please, Marnie. We can show solidarity, how we’re still friends.”
She had excused herself to her bedroom to take the phone call. She heard a commotion in the living room, and figured Bridget and Angela Hawkins had returned. Maybe even Bryan McFadden.
“I promise, if I can, I will. I’ll let you know tonight,” Marnie said.
“Okay, goodbye, thank you, please don’t forget to call me back,” Grayson said.
“I won’t.”
“Promise.”
“Promise.”
She hung up and was about to go to see if there were any new developments and discover just who was back in her house, when her phone rang again.
Caller ID told her that it was Roberta Alan.
Of course.
Her Dark Harbor brother had called her. He’d probably already lined it up with Roberta—her Dark Harbor sister—to call right after.
“Hey, Roberta. Just talked to Grayson. If I can, I will.”
There was silence for a second, and then Roberta let out a soft laugh. “Okay, okay. And I had my speech planned. It was a good one.”
“You can give it to me quickly if you want.”
“Never mind. The way you answered, it all just went out of my mind,” Roberta told her. She sighed. “Marnie, it is a good opportunity for us.” She was silent for a minute. “And maybe you. That theater thing of yours isn’t looking so good.”
“What? Why?”
“Apparently, that Seth Smith, the property manager for the Abernathy Theater, heard about the dead man in your pool.”
“What?”
“Oh, you know reporters. When we need some coverage, it seems we can’t get it through any means. When they can rag on someone, it’s all over the place. No one says the dead man was in your pool. But they’ve said what happened took place in your neighborhood. Marnie, you are hot right now. Some people think you are some kind of supernatural character, clouded with dark shadows and evil. Some think you’re a pathetic creature having a run of bad luck. But I guess, to a lot of people out there, you’re looking kind of cursed.”
“Great,” Marnie said. “Okay, I don’t know what’s happening with Seth Smith or the theater at the moment—”
“Go online—check out the news. He didn’t say he wouldn’t rent to you, but he did give a speech to some reporter about the Abernathy having a long and proud history, adding that anything for children needed to be above reproach.”
“But I am above reproach. I’m not involved in any scandals—”
“Someone died in your pool.”
“I didn’t put him there!”
“Perception, Marnie. Perception is everything,” Roberta reminded her.
Marnie sighed softly. “Either way, I’ll let you know about Horror-palooza for sure by tonight, okay? Seriously, no one would expect us all to be there. Cara hasn’t been gone that long.”
Roberta sighed deeply. “It doesn’t matter what people expect. There will be a giant memorial to her. To be honest, one of the organizers told me we are in high demand. They want some pics before another one of us is...gone.”
“Great. Just great.”
“I’m sorry. And please.”
“Okay, I just have to check with people.”
“Like tall, dark and handsome.”
“Roberta, that describes a large part of this city.”
Her friend laughed softly. “Love you, Marnie. Call me.”
She hung up.
Marnie hurried on out.
Bridget and Angela Hawkins had returned—so had Bryan McFadden with the dog.
George really had decided he was her dog. He pulled free from McFadden’s easy hold on his leash and bounded toward Marnie. She dropped to her knees, delighted. George greeted her with vivacious licks and kisses and a wild pummeling of his tail.
“You’re amazing, George,” she told the dog.
Bridget sniffed and laughed. “Hey, George. I’m the one who has promised to look after you come what may.”
“He loves you, too,” Marnie said.
“He probably senses Marnie needs the most protection,” McFadden said.
“Speaking of which...is there any news?” Marnie asked.
“There was someone in the neighborhood dressed up as Blood-bone. I confirmed it with a man who lives down the street,” McFadden offered. “The man in your pool was one William Capello. He was identified today through his fingerprints. He was a known criminal suspected of committing a number of murders by hire. I sincerely believe he was the one who killed Cara.”
Marnie looked at him and swallowed.
“So whoever killed the man in the pool is the conspirator or killer who hired the killer who killed Cara?” she asked quietly.
“So it seems,” McFadden said.
“Anyway, the killer killed his killer,” Angela finished, watching them all.
“What?” Bridget asked, completely confused.
“And we still have no idea who wanted Cara—or someone from Dark Harbor—dead,” McFadden said.
Bridget’s phone rang.
She was startled, having been intent on the explanation being given her.
She cried out and then made a face and apologized, “I’m so sorry. That’s the alarm company. Their people are getting here. Two gentlemen. Steve and Jerry. I have a picture.”
She showed all of them the faces on her phone. The alarm company was into safety. Two smiling faces were on the screen along with their names and expected time of arrival.
Even their timing was top-notch.
A van drove up in front even as they spoke.
“I’ll let them in,” Jackson said.
“Should we get out of the way?” Bridget asked.
“Only when they do the work. You’re going to have to know your system and set your codes,” McFadden said. “It will take a couple of hours. And by the way,” he added, glancing over at Jackson and Angela with approval, “the FBI is now part of the investigation. There’ll be a joint task force on this.”
“Not just any joint task force,” Angela said. “You have the Krewe of Hunters. Marnie, we will get to the bottom of this, and we will find the real killer.”
Marnie smiled at her. “I believe you,” she said softly.
She just prayed that she lived to see it.
*
So much commotion.
Police. FBI. And now a nice new alarm company.
Oh, yeah. Not to mention the dog.
All that protection, and yet...
When he wanted her dead, she would be dead!
He still wasn’t sure if he would do the deed. The first—Ah, it had been surreal. Had he done it right? Yes, he believed so. If he’d been seen, so what? What could anyone say? Blood-bone had killed the bad man and pushed him into a pool. And that pool? Oh, it had belonged to Marnie Davante.
How delicious.
He’d been such a coward before. He’d never imagined just how incredible it was going to feel. The rush that swept over him.
At that moment, he had been Blood-bone in truth.
He had been a god or a demon or both rolled together.
He’d held the ultimate power, the power of life or death.
He chose death.
The stunned look on the face of the man as he’d died! So shocked. And he’d been laughing, the fool. Laughing to see another Blood-bone costume.
Now he felt something of the same thrill again. He was here, so close to her house. He was watching. He could be caught.
But what if he were? There was no reason he shouldn’t be there. Even if she didn’t consider him to be a close friend, he was a friend. Or a good acquaintance, if there was such a thing. Oh, no. She would say friend. Marnie being Marnie.
The odd thing was, like the rest of the world, he loved her.
He really did, he realized. He loved her.
Maybe that was best. Maybe he would do it, make it personal. Because he would do it gently; he would do it with love.
That made the power all the greater. He didn’t even begin to understand it—it just was.
He loved her, and he would kill her.