It had been a long day.
Bryan felt the emptiness of the living room with the others gone. Then George whined, setting a wet nose on Bryan’s hand.
“Okay, boy, we’ll go out for a last romp, huh?”
He took the dog outside. While they were strolling around the block, he suddenly had a thought and called Angela. “The car,” he said. “David Neal’s car.”
“Yeah. Blue Chevy Malibu,” she said. “You have something?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to call on Ben Madrigal again, see if he saw a blue Malibu the dead-man-in-the-pool day. When Blood-bone was just cruising the neighborhood.”
“We need the contents of the tea analyzed. I can take Bridget with me and drop it off first thing in the morning.”
“Not necessary. I’m going to call Sophie. She’ll get it tonight.”
“Call me again if you need to,” Angela said. “Or if you have any other ideas.”
He called Sophie Manning next.
She promised she’d be right there.
Bryan then dialed Ben Madrigal, hoping it wasn’t too late, that the man might be a night owl.
Madrigal answered his phone.
“I’ve kind of got a bit of a thinking question for you,” Bryan said pleasantly. “Because, we all see cars everywhere every day. Do you remember by chance if, on the day you saw Blood-bone, you also saw a blue Chevy Malibu?”
“Well, I’ve definitely seen a sporty blue car parked in the neighborhood,” Ben Madrigal answered him. “It’s parked here frequently. I thought it belonged to someone living in a house—apartment, or duplex, studio or whatever—in the neighborhood. Come to think of it, though, it moves. It’s on different blocks all the time. But yes, I’ve seen what I believe is a blue Chevy Malibu.”
“And on the day you saw the Blood-bone...did you see the Malibu?”
Madrigal was quiet. “I want to say yes. But...I just don’t know. I really just don’t know. Like I said, I know I’ve seen it. And like you said...days mix up, you know?”
“Of course. Yes, they do.”
“I wish I could be of more help.”
“You’ve been a tremendous help. Thank you.”
He hung up. Sophie Manning was on her way, but he called Grant Vining to tell him what he’d learned, and then he called Jackson.
By the time he finished his calls, he and George had made it back to the house, and Sophie was there. He gave her everything he had collected; she took it in an evidence bag.
“How long do you think?” he asked her.
“We’ll have an answer soon—by tomorrow morning. I have friends who work in the crime scene lab on the graveyard shift. They’ll help me out.”
“Thank you, Sophie. Seriously.”
“Hey. Thank you for being out here.”
She patted George and then left. Bryan locked the door and set the alarm.
Then he stared at Marnie’s door.
She had been angry. He figured she was resentful of how overprotective he was being, and she was thinking she was crazy to be involved with him.
He should just stay out.
He couldn’t.
It was silly, maybe... They’d spent just a night together. But she’d announced they were a duo; she had seemed to really care.
He couldn’t stay away.
“George, go to sleep, please,” he told the dog.
And he watched in wonder as the dog curled up to do as told.
He tapped lightly at Marnie’s door. It immediately sprang open.
It appeared she had fallen asleep at one point, but then had been waiting for him. Her wealth of rich dark hair was in a wild array around her head, her eyes were exquisitely blue green and slightly hazy, and warmth seemed to glow from the length of her. She was clad again in a long cotton T-shirt—the right attire, definitely, for a time when you weren’t sure who filled your house, and he approved of the way it softly draped over her curves.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” she returned and smiled, and something changed in her eyes. A light appeared in them that was wickedly delicious. She threw her arms around him and drew him to her for a kiss.
One that included the full pressure of her body against his, her hands running down his back, her tongue delving and playing and doing things that made him pay attention.
He eased her forward, closing the door behind him. He returned her kiss, tongue every bit as wicked and erotic. The pressure of her body was hot, the feel of her kiss wet. He couldn’t break that kiss, even as he tried to strip down.
Marnie was the one to break away.
She did so to move her lips and teeth and tongue across his body, down...
He was very glad that the action for Marnie wouldn’t begin the next day until after ten.
They made love. And then again. And then...again. She created a desire in him that burned, hot and constant.
And was like nothing in the world when it was appeased.
Late in the night, she slept in his arms. Curled partially atop him, beside part of him.
He couldn’t help but marvel. And pray that it would be forever.
First, of course, he had to make sure Marnie would be forever...forever, as in a full lifetime.
*
Horror-palooza was spectacular. Artists showed their creations and wares in large and small booths, in large and small quantities.
Creatures abounded—incredible creatures, created by the best in the business.
Zombies posed before a Cadillac. A family of vampires relaxed upon a Victorian couch. Aliens were here and there. Monsters created by toxic waste raged and growled in shocking tableaux. There were versions of old monsters—the Frankenstein monster, Dracula, the Wolfman, the Mummy and more. There were makeup artists offering spectacular face painting to conference goers—for a fee, of course—and also showing off with their own models, creating amazing creature effects. They were also selling their cosmetics—naturally, hoping for some big sales with the studios who would be working with makeup and prosthetics.
There were costumes, statuettes, prints, paintings.
So much art!
In Marnie’s mind, the life-size creatures were the most amazing, and the tableaux that had been created to showcase them.
She’d always been in awe of fabricators, artists who couldn’t really be defined in one area.
Like Madison Darvil.
Madison had arrived with her husband, Special Agent Sean Cameron, just before they’d left the house. Marnie and she hadn’t been inseparable friends back in the day or anything of the like, but Madison had been one those people she had instantly liked, admired and with whom she’d really enjoyed working. She didn’t just create costumes or makeup effects, she worked with just about everything and could create just about anything—from a life-size puppy selling insurance to a helpful robotic alien to a chilling, decaying vampire.
They’d hugged; Madison had been delighted to see her. And then she’d learned that Special Agent Sean Cameron had once studied under Eddie Archer, one of the finest fabricators to be found anywhere, as well.
In her living room, Marnie felt a little shaky as they all greeted one another.
She was lucky.
She’d come to realize she was protected and possibly alive because of Bryan McFadden; he’d brought in an elite unit consisting of Jackson and Angela, and now Madison Darvil and Sean Cameron.
While everyone hugged—and before Bridget arrived at that half of the duplex—Cara Barton made an appearance. She was delighted she’d managed to get Marnie so much help.
She was thrilled that an entire room of people could see her. She was so excited and dramatic she didn’t really last—or remain visible—long.
When Cara disappeared, Marnie said drily, “I’m haunted by a bit of a diva.”
Bryan sniffed, and she realized she did want to meet more dead people—she wanted to meet his parents.
Madison Darvil laughed softly. “Tell me about it.”
Sean spoke up. “Madison and Bogie were just like this.” He lifted his hand, showing his entwined fingers.
“Bogie? You mean Humphrey Bogart?” Marnie asked.