*
“This is wonderful! I love it!” Marnie said.
The Miraculous World of the Wizard Zim.
Marnie was an incredibly fast reader, but even at that, she had barely scanned the play. Yet she could tell it was wonderful. Scanning alone showed her that. The play was a treasure that had slipped through the cracks of time.
“I think we talked about it already. I’d like to have an ensemble cast of adults—and yes, work with kids. One of the shows I have wanted to do is Peter and the Starcatcher. I had a friend in the cast that played here locally. I fell in love with it. It’s based on the novel by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, and I love their work so much in novels... And the novel was then used to create a great play. With this one, though—public domain. That’s a nice way to start when we really have to watch a bottom line.”
David Neal grinned. “Are you happy I brought it to you?”
“Very.”
“We could make quite a team,” he said.
She could imagine opening her theater, using that play. She could talk some film friends into helping out so she’d have a spectacular opening.
It struck her that her life—at the moment—seemed to be on hold.
Cara was dead.
Another man was dead.
And while it really hadn’t been long at all since Cara had been murdered so viciously in the convention center, it seemed as if time had become bogged down with the fear and the hope and the waiting. Today, talking to David, planning the play, made it almost seem as if the world was back to normal.
“Truly. This is wonderful! I think it’s an opener. I love it,” Marnie told David.
He still looked a little uncomfortable. He shot a glance over at Angela, who was working at her computer again.
On his arrival, Angela had frisked him. He’d had nothing on him but his wallet and a bottle of aspirin.
“Sorry,” Angela had said simply. “There was a dead man in Marnie’s pool. We have to take precautions. You understand.”
“Of course,” David had said.
The reassurance clearly hadn’t really helped. He stared at Angela again. She was busy, but Marnie was certain she was listening in on them.
George was at Marnie’s feet. If anyone were to threaten her in any way, George could probably rip them to shreds. She’d been told that the command to defend her was “Protect!”
Bridget had appeared long enough to say hello, then went to work in the guest room. Unlike Angela, Bridget liked to work in quiet, unless she was in a session with other writers and they were throwing ideas or lines around.
Angela looked up suddenly and said, “Excuse me. I have to make a phone call. I’ll just be on the porch with the door open, so if you need me, a whisper will bring me back in.”
When Angela had stepped out, David looked at Marnie and said, “She’s very serious, isn’t she?”
“Good at her job,” Marnie said, still marveling at the wonderful play. “Would you like some tea or something? Soda? I’m sorry, I don’t have anything stronger in the house.”
“Uh, no problem,” he said. “Tea would be great.”
Marnie headed to the kitchen to brew a pot of tea. When she returned, David was where she’d left him on the sofa and still looked a little shell-shocked. She sat down with a tray laden with a teapot, sugar, milk, lemon—should he choose—and cups. He reached forward to help himself and his fingers brushed hers. He let them linger.
“We’ll make a great team, won’t we? I hope?”
It was just a brush, but the touch coupled with his words... She froze for a split second. He flushed and quickly withdrew.
She’d been uncomfortable. But the moment was over.
“Um, possibly,” she murmured. Then she excused herself. “Just a second. I’ll be right back. I’m going to check if Bridget would like a cup of tea. If Angela comes in, will you ask her for me? Thanks.”
Marnie hurried down the hall to knock at the guest room door. She took a quick look back.
David was just pouring his tea.
Entirely normally.
She had definitely read something into his touch and words that wasn’t really there. Hadn’t she?
*
Bryan saw it was Angela on his line.
“You’ve got something.”
“I do. I started checking out résumés and educations. You’re on your way here now, right?”
“We should be there momentarily. We just dropped Sophie off.”
“I have a few interesting pieces of information for you. Grayson Adair—his first job out here in LA was with a company called Bunny Studios. This isn’t really being a specialist, but it’s interesting. Bunny Studios provided just that—Easter Bunnies and more. Leprechauns for St. Pat’s Day, Santas, elves, Mrs. Clauses at Christmas. They could provide just about anything for any season. Grayson worked with them for about two years, and then he got a recurring role on a soap opera, some TV movie roles and then Dark Harbor.”
“Definitely interesting. Anyone else?”
“Yes. Jeremy Highsmith. He spent his first ten years in the business being what he referred to as a ‘fluffy’ at a number of the theme parks.”
“So he’s been all kind of comic characters,” Bryan said. Jackson was looking at him. “Angela, I’m going to put the phone on speaker so that Jackson can hear, too. Hang on and just let me repeat quickly.”
He did; Jackson listened and nodded.
“Okay, Angela, when you’re ready. What’s the rest?”
“Well, that’s it for the cast. I can’t find anywhere that Roberta Alan ever played any kind of a creature character, but—sorry, hang on,” she said. She must have had her phone on speaker, too, because they heard her talking to someone else.
“You’re leaving?”
The next voice wasn’t clear. It belonged to David Neal.
“Yep, I have to take off—appointment later this afternoon. I just saw the time. Marnie went in with her cousin. Can you tell her that I’ll be in touch and that I had to leave?”
“Sure. Take care,” Angela said. “How odd. Hang on again. I’m going in the house. Marnie? Bridget? No—no, everything is fine. Just checking on you.”
“Angela, they’re fine, right?” Bryan said.
“Yes, David Neal just left.”
“We heard,” Jackson said.
“I searched him and all, but I was just outside, so...”
“We’ll be there in one minute,” Bryan said.
They were turning the corner to Marnie’s street. Bryan drove up in front of the duplex, turned off the engine and hopped out of the car. He wasn’t sure why he was worried. Nothing had happened.
He hurried up the walk. “He’s gone already?” he asked Angela.
“He was in a blue Chevy Malibu. Drove off about sixty seconds ago,” Angela said. She was frowning. “Bryan, I wouldn’t let anything happen to Marnie.”
Marnie came to the door; she had evidently heard what Angela had said. “I’m fine. And Bridget is fine. George sat at my feet like a lion. Nothing happened. I was perfectly safe, really—and David brought me a play that I really, really love!”
Bryan let out a soft breath of relief; he wasn’t sure why he had panicked so much in the last few minutes.
“Anyway,” Jackson said, joining them and casually slipping an arm around Angela’s shoulders. “We have some FBI friends from back home arriving for the show tomorrow. Sean Cameron is coming with his wife, Madison Darvil.”
“I know that name,” Marnie said. “I think I’ve worked with Madison. Yes. She did some work with us for a werewolf story line on Dark Harbor years ago. She was great. Immensely talented and great to work with. Oh!” She paused, clapping her hand over her mouth and then removing it and explaining, “I remember! Sad case—a beautiful young starlet killed. And Madison worked for Archer’s Wizardry and Effects. And Eddie Archer also owned the Black Box, and his son was accused of murder. But in the end...”
Jackson continued as she hesitated, remembering, “The Krewe stepped in. The guilty party was caught. Yes, that Madison. And Sean, of course, was out here working with her.”