Marnie was amazed that she was actually feeling good. It wasn’t that she had accepted the fact Cara was dead—or that her dead friend was visiting her.
It was Bryan. She didn’t really know or understand how that could be—she hadn’t known him long enough to really know him, and yet she felt she did. They’d spent only one night together, but that night had been amazing. She had always been careful and hesitant in relationships, and she had straight-up asked him to sleep with her.
He was staying with her. There was no time limit. He would be with her until this was all over. And then...
He was an East Coast man and she was West Coast, which didn’t matter to her so much except for the plans in place for her theater, something she had dreamed about for years now.
After she and Bryan had talked, Jackson, Angela and Bridget had come to her side of the duplex and they had discussed Horror-palooza, one of Bridget’s absolute favorite events to attend. Her cousin was happy to go but still a bit scared.
Then Marnie’s phone rang. This time it was Jeremy Highsmith.
“Marnie?” Jeremy spoke her name almost hesitantly, as if he might be afraid that he had the wrong number.
“Hey, Jeremy. How are you?” She felt a flash of fear for him—she figured she might when she talked to any of her surviving cast mates in the future.
“I’m fine, fine. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, thank you. What’s up? I’ve agreed to come to the horror convention. I’m bringing an entourage, including a PI and the FBI.”
She didn’t know if she was saying all that as a way to make Jeremy feel better or as a warning, just in case he knew the wrong people.
“Excellent. But that’s not why I called,” Jeremy told her.
“Oh?”
“I have another proposal for you.”
“Aha. And what would that be?”
“Well, you know Vince Carlton? He contacted me again yesterday.”
Marnie could feel Jeremy’s miserable hesitation through her cell phone.
“He called me because Cara is gone. I guess everyone considered her the key in our family—when we were and weren’t in character.”
“I guess so,” Marnie agreed softly.
“Anyway, he was gung ho about getting it all together again. Not replacing Cara. He said she could never be replaced. But he’d be growing the cast. In fact, he promised an episode dedicated to Cara that truly honored her.”
“Jeremy, you know I don’t really want to work in television anymore,” she reminded him. “I believe I’m going to be able to start my theater—”
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
“What?”
“I guess you haven’t seen Seth Smith’s latest words to the press on the Abernathy.”
“What has he said?”
“Oh, he’s just gone on and on about how the Abernathy is truly a great old dame. She’s never been tainted by any scandal. That they’d never allow her to be part of anything that isn’t entirely legitimate and aboveboard—or involved with anyone who isn’t legitimate or aboveboard.”
Marnie felt the hardness in her tone. “I am totally legitimate and aboveboard!” she snapped.
“I know that. Anyone who really knows you knows that. But sadly, perception is part of every world—not just Tinseltown. I’m sorry, Marnie, and I could be wrong, but I don’t think you’re going to have an easy time—not at this moment—getting the Abernathy. Maybe in a while... Besides, Carlton was talking about reviving the series, but maybe they’ll just do a couple of tie-up specials. You know, perhaps mourning Cara’s character and setting the family back on a good path. Specials would be perfect. You could commit to just a few months, and then you’d be free again. It can’t hurt to earn a little extra to sock away until your thing gets going.”
“I’m not sure just what it is you want,” Marnie said, feeling a little deflated. What he was saying was true. Making some more money didn’t hurt, and Seth Smith was a snob. He and Wexler Realty might just sit on the Abernathy, rather than rent it, until they were happy. They controlled huge investments.
They could do it.
“Just meet with Vince Carlton? He’s invited us all. Same studio address. They used our old standing sets for a TV movie about werewolves last month.”
“I have to check out my availability,” Marnie said drily.
“This afternoon? He’ll be out at the studios this afternoon.”
“Okay, as I said—let me check my availability.”
Her availability? Sit here—except for Horror-palooza! Wait until someone else dies, wait until someone figures out what the hell is going on.
“You have to check with your guard dogs, eh?”
“Pretty much. And I have an actual guard dog now, Jeremy. He’s great. But yeah, I have a very fine PI working for me right now, and he has some really fine FBI agents with him. Hang on.”
She’d wandered into the kitchen earlier; she muted the phone and headed back out to her living room.
Angela was on the computer. Jackson and Bryan were reading over her shoulder.
Bridget was sitting on the sofa. She had gotten George to come up and sit next to her. He was a big dog; he didn’t look really comfortable.
He looked at Marnie, tilted his head and raised an eyebrow—as if she might save him.
She called him. He bounded off the sofa to her. She stooped to scratch his ears as she told the others, “Jeremy Highsmith is still on the phone. He wants me to come out to the studio this afternoon.”
Bryan, Angela and Jackson had looked up when she’d entered.
“Excellent,” Bryan said.
“Yes, very good. I think it is time we get to know the rest of the Dark Harbor family,” Jackson said.
“The surviving cast members,” Angela murmured.
“And this producer who loves the show so much,” Bryan added.
*
Through his parents, Bryan had been on set enough to have a pretty decent concept of how it all worked.
The massive studio building with huge double doors was still impressive, he thought as they pulled up in the seven-seater SUV Jackson had rented.
Dark Harbor had been filmed in a giant space owned by one of the cable networks. Every once in a while, an episode might be filmed on location. The studio was big enough that they didn’t need the space for other shows, and it was more useful to them to keep the Dark Harbor mansion and other sets as permanent shooting spaces.
The standing set had received many changes since the original show had been canceled, but much of that had been cosmetic—set dressing and decorating. The bones of the old sets were the same.
Arriving in the studio, Bryan was impressed with the quick reconstruction that the producer, Vince Carlton, had managed.
He peered around the plywood flats to see that the family living room had been set up with the original Victorian reproduction sofas, love seats, wingback chairs, hutches, fireplace and more. Carlton had clearly pulled some strings to impress the Dark Harbor family.
They’d been greeted on arrival by the other cast members and Vince Carlton. He knew Marnie already, and he and Bridget had met at some kind of award ceremony somewhere along the line, according to Bridget. He was extremely courteous to Bryan, recalling that they had met at the funeral, and to Jackson and Angela, as well.
The group stood just inside the studio building, half-immersed in the fantasy world of the show, but with the doors open to the lot behind them.
“FBI, huh? I suppose you can never be too careful,” he said.
“We really need to find a killer,” Jackson said politely.