There was a sudden surge of humanity in another direction, just across the hall.
It was Malcolm Dangerfield. The man, surrounded by “his people” and what looked like an army of media, was taking up his position at his own booth. It was a little surprising that he was there, being so very popular at the moment, but he had a science fiction movie coming out soon and must have been convinced it was worth his time.
Bryan’s phone rang; Detective Vining was calling back. “Still waiting on the officer at Highsmith’s. But I do have something interesting for you. Lab results back on the remnants of tea you asked Sophie to have analyzed.”
“If there was any kind of poison,” Bryan said, his muscles tightening, “you can find David Neal and arrest him immediately.”
“There wasn’t poison,” Vining said.
“Ah,” Bryan said, cursing himself. Where the hell were his instincts?
“But there was something,” Vining said. “Traces of gamma hydroxybutyric acid, a date-rape drug. Looks like David Neal was trying to get a lot closer to Marnie than she may have expected. He seemed to want more than a job.”
“You are going to arrest him then, right?”
“Yes. He could be facing a felony charge for lacing her tea—and we’ll have to prove it somehow, which we may not be able to do, but...at the very least, while he may not be a cold-blooded murderer, he is one hell of a slimy bastard.”
“You’ll get him down to the station?”
“I’ve got Sophie on it. As soon as she can find him, she’ll bring him in.”
“Thanks. Let me know.”
“You bet. The minute we have him.”
He rang off. Once Malcolm Dangerfield had come into the room, the line at Marnie’s booth had died down a bit. She looked up at him.
He set his hands protectively on her shoulders.
Marnie frowned.
“Tell you later,” he said.
Vince Carlton walked up to their table. “Good to see you all—Wow! The enthusiasm over Dark Harbor.”
“There was lots of it—until Malcolm Dangerfield walked in,” Roberta said.
“See? There you go. If I put Malcolm Dangerfield together with Dark Harbor? Wow. We can just wait and see. But where’s Jeremy Highsmith? Jeremy told me he actually loves Horror-palooza. I can’t begin to imagine he would blow it all off!”
“I can’t either,” Marnie said, looking up at Bryan.
She was getting worried. He was worried, too. Now about two things. He still needed to hear that Detective Manning had gotten her hands on David Neal.
But did being a disgusting piece of slime make David a murderer?
They needed to prove what he had done. Had he wanted to lure Marnie into an assault, or even worse? Either option was unthinkable.
Bridget and Angela returned to the booth then.
Marnie’s cousin was excited. “There’s a fantastic Horror-palooza Cave back there,” she said. “So cool—it has Murderers’ Row, with Jack the Ripper, H. H. Holmes and more, all on a foggy, creepy Victorian street. And then it turns into a monster’s mansion, and all the famous ones are there—Frankenstein’s monster, Dracula, the Wolfman, a few different mummies...and the swamp creature. I swear, it gave flight to the imagination!”
Bryan saw Marnie try to smile.
“Jeremy Highsmith is still not here?” Angela asked.
“Call him again?” Bryan said to Marnie.
She did. No answer. She shook her head, looking at him worriedly.
Bryan called Grant Vining back. “Detective?”
“Our officer knocked at the door, trying to get Jeremy Highsmith to answer. Nothing. We’ll break in. We shouldn’t legally. But I suppose we have just cause for emergency entry.”
Bryan looked across the room at Jackson, certain he would have his friend’s support. “The federal government will support that decision,” he said.
“I’ll call you right back.”
He hung up again. There was a roar of applause in the convention hall, and suddenly people were surging toward the Dark Harbor booth again.
The Krewe unit drew in close. Bryan was behind Marnie, while Angela and Jackson flanked the table, and Sean was just to the side of Angela, watching, with Madison just to his left, next to one of the Archer studio’s werewolves.
“Malcolm and Marnie!” someone cried out. “You’re going to do Dark Harbor together?”
“Pictures together? Hey, can’t you guys let us get some pictures together?” someone shouted, not at the front of the line, but near.
Vince Carlton apologized quickly and half-heartedly to Marnie, “I had a press conference a few minutes ago. I announced the possibility of a revamp, with Malcolm and Marnie playing together. News must be spreading. You know how fans can get!”
Bryan did.
Fans could get dangerous.
“I’m here with this cast today,” Marnie said.
“But maybe—just maybe—you could go over and take a few pictures with Malcolm?” Carlton asked her. He frowned. “You don’t...dislike Malcolm or anything, do you?” he asked softly.
“No, of course not, Malcolm is fine,” she said.
“Marnie, damn it, go,” Roberta whispered. “If it were me, I’d be over there in his arms already. Then again, I’m not sleeping with—”
“I’m on my way—It’s okay, right?” Marnie interrupted, looking at Bryan.
“Sure. I’ll walk you over,” Bryan said.
“I’ll flank on the right,” Sean Cameron said.
Bryan nodded. With Marnie between the two of them, they made their way across the floor.
Things that would normally seem amazing bothered Bryan then. He was hypersensitive to every mannequin and mask in the place, even those he’d already walked by.
Malcolm, with members of his security team, met them in the middle. “Just a few pics! Just a few pics—in case!” Malcolm told the crowd, delighting them.
Marnie smiled.
She stepped forward, letting him slide an arm around her.
Flashes went off. People crowded, holding up their cameras and smartphones.
Bryan was about to step forward, not because he felt any jealousy, which somewhat surprised him, but because he was being made just a little bit too nervous by the amount of things around them that just might be people in costume and not mannequins at all.
Marnie put a stop to it all herself.
“Thank you. Thank you all so much,” she said, smiling and looking all around her. “I have to head back to the ‘family.’ What the future will hold... Well, we’ll all see, right?”
A line had formed at the table again.
Vince Carlton was still there, beaming. Marnie took her chair.
“Scarlet, Scarlet, Scarlet!” came a yell from the crowd.
She smiled and waved, but as she took her seat between Roberta and Grayson, she asked, “No Jeremy yet? I’m getting really worried.”
As if she’d been heard, the question was suddenly voiced loudly from the crowd.
“So where’s Jeremy Highsmith?” someone called.
Bryan’s phone rang. It was Vining.
“You found him? You found Jeremy Highsmith?”
“Yeah. We did. We found him.”
“Thank God. And?”
Vining was silent for a minute.
Then he spoke, and he sounded old and weary, almost as if his voice was composed of nothing but dry and brittle leaves, shaking in the wind.
“He’s dead. Jeremy Highsmith is dead.”
*
He knew—the Mr. Macho-Man PI son-of-the-famous now knew.
Yes, Jeremy Highsmith was dead.
Delicious to watch. And now, of course, he had to spread the news.
Marnie! Oh, poor Marnie. The look on her face. She was just devastated. And the cops! Confusion!
Oh, so delicious.
And so sad. Think of it. Mom and Dad, both gone from Dark Harbor.
Don’t laugh out loud. Don’t laugh out loud...
And watch the smile!
14
Jeremy Highsmith was dead.
Unbelievable and unacceptable. Marnie had just sat next to him at lunch yesterday.
It was understandable the Dark Harbor table was empty; the surviving members of the main cast of the show had left.
They were devastated.
Marnie felt as if she were actually in the show, as if what was happening just couldn’t possibly be real.