He smiled. “No, I have to say—this is unique.”
She leaned on an elbow, watching him, truly curious. “I have to admit. I don’t really get this. You’re good friends with Jackson. You admire him—you’re all about his group of people, his Krewe of Hunters. Why aren’t you just a part of it?”
“I’ve been invited to join.”
“Why are you hesitating? I mean, you kind of obviously know your way around self-defense and guns and—ghosts.”
“Two things, really.”
“And they are?”
“Bruce and Brodie.”
“Your brothers? You don’t strike me as the type who follows anyone else.”
He scratched George’s ears thoughtfully. “It’s not a matter of following anyone. It’s about being in it together. Life was probably a bit strange for us from the get-go. Our parents were so well-known and adored. They knew everyone, from politicians to other famous actors and actresses, multimillionaires. Heads of state—even kings and queens. And they were just good parents, really nice people. Anyway, as you’re learning, it really got weird when they died.” He grinned. “I wonder what would have happened if we had just kept pretending we didn’t see them. I swear, it is difficult sometimes, knowing Mom will torment you until she gets what she wants. Though, thankfully, like I said, they were really good people. She asks good favors. Okay, she tells us a whole lot more than she asks us.”
“I’m confused. If your brothers are the same as you, with the same...”
“We never really had a chance to talk about our plans after our service, especially with regards to the FBI. My parents knew Adam Harrison. He’s a great guy—always. Before the Krewe, he did a tremendous amount of good. He didn’t just give money. He gave kids a chance at art and music and drama—and history and sports and life. He formed his Krewe a few years back.” He quickly filled Marnie in on Adam and Josh’s story, and the formation of the special unit. “Jackson called me one day soon after I’d gotten out of the military, and I did a job with him. I’ve worked with him several times since. But Bruce and Brodie and I had talked about forming a PI agency. Might be pretty cool to work with my brothers, using our skill, huh? Although, as you’re learning, the dead do not perform on command. They help the best they can. That doesn’t mean they have all the answers. Anyway, I might join the Krewe. But I owe it to my brothers for us all to have a talk first.”
“I see,” Marnie told him. “It’s pretty great—that you could work with your brothers.”
“Yeah, we’re lucky. We have a lot in common.” He laughed softly. “Much to my mom’s dismay, that includes the fact we definitely don’t want to be actors.”
“And what is wrong with actors?”
“Not a thing. My father was a very fine man and a very fine actor.”
That caused her to smile.
He leaned closer to her. She didn’t pull away. She was angled toward him on the sofa, the side of her head rested on her hand as she looked at him.
“I’d have liked your dad.”
“Yeah, you would have.”
“And your mom.”
“Well, there’s always the possibility you’ll meet them somewhere along the line.”
“Is she—here?” Marnie asked.
What a bizarre new way to “meet the parents.”
He smiled. “No, but if you knew my mother...she just might find a way to get herself out to Los Angeles.”
“I don’t understand. She’s a ghost, right?”
“Yes, and as unique a character in life as she was in death. Very talented, even as a ghost. I’ll try to explain. Not that I—or anyone—can really understand everything. It seems ghosts move around a great deal like the living. Except they can appear and disappear. Young ghosts—meaning newly dead, no matter what their age at their demise—don’t stay in a solid form very well sometimes. Most have to learn, gain strength, when it comes to appearing to those who can see them—to create sound, and sometimes, to do things like knock on a door, push the buttons on a coffee machine, a cell phone, flicker lights, et cetera. You know, I wish it were easy. I think that humans naturally have a fear of the unknown, which includes a fear of ghosts. But if you think about it, it’s not so bad. It means there is something, an energy that does last forever, and the concept of each person’s unique essence—a soul—is real.”
“But...only some people stay behind?” she whispered.
“Only some.”
She was quiet. At her feet, George whined.
“You think George can see Cara?”
“Possibly.”
“Why?” Marnie murmured. “The thought plagues me constantly, goes in circles in my mind—and still there is no answer!”
“Why are you seeing Cara?”
“Why did someone want her—or me or someone in the cast of Dark Harbor—dead?”
“You still can’t think of anything? Any slight somewhere along the line? Someone hurt or snubbed?”
She laughed softly. “Someone is hurt or snubbed in this city just about every minute of the day. But no. I can’t come up with any reasons that to me would stand up as motive for murder. Cara could be tough to get along with on the set sometimes, but that usually had to do with the writers or the director of an episode. Roberta Alan is a doll, very easy to deal with. Jeremy and Grayson had their moments of stress, but again, they were easy to work with.”
“What about Cara’s life since?”
Marnie hesitated. “I think she was okay. I mean, Cara had loved it when we were on top. When Dark Harbor was one of the most popular shows on television. She was recognized everywhere. But the public is fickle. New stars were shining, so to say. But we were making money through residuals, and she was getting a guest starring role here or there and doing an occasional commercial.”
“What about her personal life?”
“She was married three times. All three husbands were actors older than her, and two have passed away. One has been working in Atlanta on one of the important series out there, for years now. It’s too bad he couldn’t make it to her funeral.”
“What about you? Enemies?”
“Sadly, one might say I’m the doormat—the girl next door. Seriously? I can’t begin to imagine I could have made any enemies.”
“But weren’t you the most powerful member of the family? And didn’t you become the most popular among fans?”
“Maybe. Who can say?”
“Marnie, humility is one thing. But if anyone resented you being popular, who would it have been?”
She sighed softly. “Cara.”
“Well, Cara is obviously not trying to kill you. What about Jeremy or Roberta? Or Grayson?”
Marnie shook her head. “No way.” She shrugged. “They need me. Anything tied to Dark Harbor needs Madam Scarlet. Of course, there aren’t five of us anymore. No one knows how these things will go now. And I’m not at all sure if doing Horror-palooza is a good thing.”
“I’ll be with you. Jackson and Angela will be there.”
“I think I like Angela,” she murmured.
“Tough as nails and a crack shot,” he assured her, amused.
She smiled. “I guess her appearance is one of her strengths. No one would expect such a slim and attractive woman to be so kick-ass.”
“Sophie seems pretty kick-ass, too.”
“So she does,” Marnie agreed. “Do you think they give classes in being kick-ass?” she asked.
“They definitely have them in self-defense. Taking some of those might be a very good idea. Single women living alone should have some training and protection.”
“Beyond George?” she asked, half-teasing and halfway serious.
“Beyond George,” he said.
“There’s no instant kick-ass, right?”
“No, but maybe we’ll start at a shooting range. There’s little that’s more kick-ass than a bullet.”
*