Eventually, they all headed out, ushered along by Vince Carlton. They said their goodbyes. Jackson, Angela and Bridget moved on ahead of Marnie and Bryan. She was able to turn to him at last.
“Is it me?” she whispered. “I don’t see Cara. But she was here...we were acknowledging her, right? This is a test for one’s sanity, to say the least.”
“We did see her,” Bryan assured her, a grin twitching on his lips. “She is quite a personality. She’s becoming a stronger apparition. Sometimes it’s difficult for the dead to maintain visibility, even to those who see them. After years, I don’t know how it all happens. Jackson and Angela work with a large number of people equally gifted—or cursed, as some believe—and no one really has the answers. Sometimes the dead linger for years. There’s an old guy near my cabin in Virginia who died in the American Revolution. He guards a certain part of forest there. Seems happy enough. Then I know of others who eventually move on. That ray of light thing you hear about, leading to the afterlife, seems to be a real thing. A pathway, when people are ready to move on. Anyway, let’s move on. We can talk more once we’re out of here.”
“Yes, of course,” Marnie murmured.
Carlton was still standing at the giant doors at the entrance to the studios.
“Maybe Cara is doing some investigating on her own,” Bryan said, speaking softly in her ear and waving goodbye to Carlton.
“That would be nice,” Marnie said.
They had almost reached the car. They could hear Bridget telling Angela and Jackson about some of the scripts she had worked on.
“Science fiction is really an interesting field, and I love it. There have been all kinds of studies done and people love it as a real escape—of course, a lot is really scientifically sound. You have books that deal with space flight, planets, black holes, all of which exist. So, who is to say a massive colony of giant insects doesn’t live on a distant planet in a galaxy far away? And yet, while it can be exciting and scary, a viewer doesn’t believe they will be attacked by a giant praying mantis in the shower.”
“But Dark Harbor was never sci-fi, right?” Jackson asked.
“No,” Angela answered, rather than Bridget. She smiled at Marnie. “I admit, I watched the show. I thought you—and the entire cast—were very good.” They were all looking at Angela, and she shrugged. “Hey, my life was weird. Made me like weird on TV. Half of America, so it seemed, was watching Dark Harbor, as well.”
“Thank you,” Marnie said. “It was a fun show to film, and I was a very lucky young person to have been working on it.”
“And I’m lucky because I’m Marnie’s cousin, and her connections got me out here and meeting people and finally working in a field I love!” Bridget said.
“So, today was good for you, right?” Bryan asked her.
“Excellent! I mean, I love what I do, but my contract stipulates I can work on other projects. I have a great manager,” Bridget said. “And Vince Carlton is an amazing man. He has a vision for several things as far as Dark Harbor goes, but he has more ideas on what could really go like hotcakes, too. He was great. Wonderful. We chatted and laughed a lot—he loved Return of the Turtle Beast. And he pointed out that every film like that makes it or doesn’t because of the characters, the emotion—and the humor. He said I have a wonderful sense of humor!”
“Excellent,” Marnie told her. She was happy Bridget was so very pleased with the day.
She was happy, she realized, to be with Bryan. Crazy—as crazy as seeing ghosts. She couldn’t imagine him not being in her life now, and he had barely entered it. Just the same, she refused to believe her children’s theater at the Abernathy might really be a dying dream, while she knew Bryan McFadden would head back East. One way or the other, his future led back to the Virginia area.
She didn’t want to think about that. And she didn’t want to psychoanalyze herself. She sincerely mourned Cara and hoped it wasn’t wrong to be so pleased to feel what she was feeling again—or had really never felt before.
“So, Marnie,” Bridget said. She was in the back seat, behind Jackson, who was driving, and next to Marnie, who was in the middle. “You basically announced to everyone that you and Bryan are sleeping together. It’s going to be in the gossip rags in a few days, you know.”
Marnie winced and flushed furiously. It had been one thing to make the announcement to Roberta when it seemed appropriate.
Here, in the car, with Bryan’s friends—FBI agents—it seemed far more awkward. She caught a glimpse of Jackson’s eyes in the rearview mirror; he was amused. Angela—next to her husband in the front passenger seat—turned slightly, smiling, as well.
“Um...thanks, Bridget,” Marnie murmured. “Helping out just in case...everyone didn’t know?”
“You said it to Roberta Alan! What are you expecting? Anyway, I’m thrilled for you.” She looked over Marnie to Bryan. “I told you about the last jerk, right? Marnie was so disillusioned. And you know what? That ass thought he was somehow entitled. I mean, I hated being in a restaurant with him. I was always afraid someone in the kitchen would spit in my food just because of association.”
“Again, thanks, Bridget.”
“I’m your cousin. I get to speak my mind.”
Bryan was laughing, Marnie realized. He caught her right hand and squeezed it.
“It’s my personal belief everyone should have to work in a restaurant and wait tables,” Angela said. “Learn how people can behave—and then learn patience for others.”
“This is Hollywood. Everyone has been a waiter or a waitress,” Bridget said.
“Not everyone,” Marnie said.
“Oh, come on. When is the last time you ate out and the waiter or waitress wasn’t a budding thespian?” Bridget asked.
“Last week,” Marnie said. “My waiter was a budding screenwriter!”
“There you go,” Bridget returned.
Everyone in the car was laughing. If it weren’t for a little thing like murder hanging over all of them, life would be unbelievably good.
They reached the duplex. Marnie was impressed by the way that wherever they were—and without words—the FBI agents and Bryan managed to surround her and Bridget, even getting out of the car and walking up the steps to the duplex.
Bridget had work to do. Angela accompanied her to the other side of the duplex, assuring Bridget she had her own computer in her bag and could connect and work with their main offices back in Virginia just fine.
“I’ll go out with George for a minute or two,” Jackson said. He nodded at Bryan. Again, Marnie realized there was a silent communication between them.
Bryan really should join that Krewe of Hunters group! she thought.
George barked excitedly.
“We’re going!” Jackson assured him.
“Excuse me a minute. I need to call the detectives on Cara’s case,” Bryan said. “I need to check in with Detective Vining and find out if he and Manning have made any progress. Jackson wants to plan a meeting with the local police tonight and naturally, we need them to assemble everyone they can.”
“Of course,” Marnie said.
It was just midafternoon. There were things that she needed to do, too. Two calls were important for her.
She didn’t want to make either call.
The first was to her parents.
The second to her agent, Cybil Sherman.
“I’ll be in my room,” she said softly.
She left Bryan to make his call in the living room. She talked to her mom and dad. She convinced them that, as always, the papers exaggerated everything, and she and Bridget were just fine. They actually had FBI agents and a PI staying with them.
She thought that would make her folks feel better.
It didn’t.
They wanted to know just how bad the situation was if federal agents had to stay with her.
She managed to make it sound as if Bryan and Angela and Jackson were there because of their family connection to Cara, and it was all just a precaution. Finally, she convinced them to stay in Australia.
Her second call was to Cybil.