Krewe of Hunters The Unholy (10 page)

“And get in, get in!” Helena called. “Eddie, that car over there—it’s paparazzi.”

“So let them take a picture of a grieving father,” Eddie said. “I don’t give a damn.”

Eddie really didn’t give a damn.

Sean observed rather cynically that Helena joined him, and that she posed, her face arranged in a mask of deep concern, her hips jutting out and her breasts high, hands draped with loving tenderness over the arm of her famous husband.

5

T
hey walked to the car, with Sean pausing to open the passenger-side door for Madison. She slid in silently. He came around to join her, and waved as Eddie opened the gate. Then he eased the car out into the cul-de-sac.

“I’m sorry you have to drop me,” Madison said. “Do you need some directions? Oh—there
is
an In-N-Out Burger on the way.”

“I was with Eddie today when we picked you up, remember?” He laughed. “And I know I can find a burger place
.
”

“Yes, of course, but you don’t live here anymore. I wasn’t sure you’d remember how to get around.”

“I lived here long enough,” he told her. “Although it’s a little much to get used to again, after living in San Antonio. But I
do
still know my way around. I’m about to prove it—In-N-Out Burger
ahead on the left. Shall we get something to go, or eat in?”

“I’m starving, so eat in, if you don’t mind,” she said.

They ordered and brought their food to a table. For a moment, Vghtblm" they ate in silence; he was hungry, too. He found himself liking the fact that his companion ate with enthusiasm. She didn’t play with her food or pretend she didn’t intend to down her entire burger and fries, but she was fastidiously neat as she did so. It seemed they’d tacitly agreed not to speak about the case during dinner. Instead, they casually discussed California weather and the differences between Texas and California.
She
thought that Texas created a breed all its own;
he
thought that was equally true of California, whether people were born there or became Californians by choice.

Twenty minutes later, they were done and back in the car.

“I’m not sure I’m much help to you,” she said as they entered freeway traffic. “I felt you knew the studio as well as I did.”

“Not really. So much depends on the latest project. And that’s especially important with this case.”

“How so?”

“Whoever killed that girl knows the studio, beyond a doubt. Knows everything about it—as it is right now.”

She shook her head. “There are dozens of people who work there—probably forty full-time staff, and another twenty brought in on special projects, some of whom end up staying. And there are the different actors and actresses, set designers, directors, cinematographers, prop masters and so on who come in.”

“No, the killer is not going to be a producer who stopped by to check on props or the costumer who drops in once. Whoever did this
knows
the studio. Backward and forward.” He frowned. “This particular movie may well be a factor, too. Unless the connection—between
The Unholy
and the
Sam Stone
film—was intended to throw us off track.”

“So, why didn’t you start with the studio workers?” she asked.

“Everyone who’s worked at the studio in any capacity is being questioned, and alibis will be examined. I’m sure that Knox already has a list, and if there were any red flags, he would’ve told me. When my team gets here, we can divide and conquer. But I have a feeling it’s not going to be a regular employee or film person, unless it’s someone really close to Eddie. Whoever did this not only knows the studio, as I said—they know Eddie Archer. And Alistair…”

“Someone like a stepmother? Because that little visit was…interesting,” Madison said. “I’m sorry, I guess
interesting
is the wrong description. Were we making a courtesy call, or were we trying to make sure she’s supporting Eddie?”

He flashed a smile. “
Interesting
was exactly the [ exignright word. And we were doing both of those things. In this kind of situation, you do try to draw out everyone who’s close to the victims—and I’m considering Eddie and Alistair victims, too.”

She looked down at her phone and then at him as he continued. “I haven’t been here in a while,” he said, “and it’s been several years since I worked for Eddie. I’ve met Helena before, but I can’t say I really know her. Still, they haven’t been married that long.”

She looked away from him then, and Sean thought she’d pursed her lips, trying to keep certain opinions to herself.

Then, apparently, she couldn’t. “But it doesn’t sound as if they’re sharing a room.”

“What makes you say that?”

She grinned, lifting her phone. “Just got a text from Pierce. I quote, ‘Not trying to cause trouble, but FYI Helena and Eddie in different rooms. Eddie wouldn’t know if she was there or not.’”

“Good old Pierce! Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean the marriage is rotten—some people snore, or toss and turn, and if you’re rich enough and have enough rooms, you can afford to sleep separately if you choose. But most people married a little more than a year are still enamored of being married and happy to sleep together regardless of the snoring, tossing, morning breath—whatever.”

“I get the feeling that Helena likes her personal world to be ruled by her own desires,” Madison said.

“Yes, and I’ll bet she has Eddie believing that they’re happiest having their own private domains. I think Eddie’s still committed to his marriage. And who am I to judge? Maybe they do love each other.”

“She won’t treat us the way she’d like to in front of him, that’s for sure. Well, me especially. I’m definitely
servant
status. But she’s smart enough not to let Eddie know that,” Madison said.

“Exactly.” Sean chuckled. “Ah, come on, spit it out. You don’t like her.”

“And you do?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I never had much to do with her,” Madison explained. “I was at the wedding, and all she did was sweep by the tables as a beautiful bride on Eddie’s arm. They filmed the wedding and reception, so she was all smiles. She comes through the studio now and then, and never acknowledges any of us. I didn’t think anything of it—I was always working. Today is probably the most I’ve ever spoken with her,“Exa [ithnowle Madison said. She was quiet for a minute. “No, I can’t say I like Helena.”

“Good instincts,” he said.

“Eddie loves her. He must love her, right? He married her.”

“I imagine.”

“She doesn’t love Alistair. It’s funny, I always thought she at least liked him and cared about him, but today I realized that her affection for Alistair is really just a show for Eddie.”

“I agree, because I think Helena loves Helena too much to be interested in someone else’s child. But to be fair, she’s hearing what everyone’s heard so far—that Alistair was the only person with a young woman when she was brutally murdered,” Sean said.

Sean turned down her street, noting that Madison remained pensive. When he pulled into her driveway, she took a deep breath. “Mrs. Archer is superficial, she’s a caricature and she gives dozens of really great actresses a bad name. She’s indifferent to Alistair at best, and I’m not convinced she loves Eddie for anything other than what she figures he can do for her. But I don’t believe she murdered anyone.”

“Oh?”

“As far as I can tell, she’s not bright enough to have done it, and no person with the ability to pull off that kind of stunt would have her as a conspirator.”

He had to grin at that.

“And,” Madison continued, “
why
would she kill a budding actress who’d never be up for the same roles, not to mention the fact that Jenny was just breaking in, trying for bit parts?”

“I don’t think it mattered that it was Jenny. I think the killer knew Alistair liked to go and watch movies alone on Sunday nights.
And
that Jenny planned to slip in and try to get Alistair to take her into the studio to learn what she could about
The Unholy.
That’s what I’m saying. It’s someone close to Eddie, someone who wants to hurt him.”

“Alistair’s the one being accused.”

“Alistair being accused is important. But Eddie’s had more time to make enemies.”

“Everyone loves Eddie.”

“Obviously, someone does not,” he said. He saw her lips tighten and discovered that he liked her more and more. [orene She was a loyal friend—and, of course, he shared her admiration for and love of Eddie Archer.

She stepped out of the car and peered at him through the window. “Thanks for the ride, Agent.” She gave him a smile. “And the burger.”

“Thank you for the escort,” he told her.

He watched her as she walked up the pathway to her house and he found himself noting the way that she moved—the lift of her head and the sway of dark hair down her back. She turned and waved. He raised a hand in return. He liked her, he recognized again.

She was the real deal.

Sometimes that was hard to find in Hollywood—or anywhere.

She paused at the door, saw that he was still there and returned to the car, coming around to the driver’s side. He lowered the window.

“Just curious—but are you this honest with everyone? I mean, should I be quiet about what you’ve told me?” she asked him worriedly.

“In my book, practically everyone is a suspect, Madison,” he said. “But Eddie trusts you, and wants you to be my right hand. So, I may say things that really are just between us—or you, me and the team.”

She nodded. “Okay. Thanks. I guess I’m not a suspect, then.”

“Where were you last night?” he asked her.

She laughed. “Here. Except that I’m not so sure I do have an alibi. I
was
with a friend at a coffee shop until about five, and that I can prove.”

“You’re not a suspect.”

“Oh?”

“Gut instinct. It’s never failed me yet,” he said.

“Glad to hear it, Agent. Well, good night.”

“Good night.”

“You’re not driving away,” she said, eyebrows raised.

“I will when you’re inside.”

[ wiill when
“I’m fine here—”

“It’s a Texas thing,” he told her, grinning.

“All right. Good night again.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“To see Alistair?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be ready.”

He waited until she’d unlocked her door, pulling out his cell phone as he did, then watched her door close.

He sat another minute, gazing thoughtfully at her house. The last half year had been hectic; he’d made an enormous change in his life. And before that…

Before that, for a long time, he’d been going through the motions. He still loved film and effects—he always would—and in his new capacity on the team, film was his specialty. Work was the great panacea. It was odd to feel that he already knew Madison Darvil better than half the friends he had back in Texas, although the team had become his family. Of course, one member of the team actually
was
his family. Kelsey O’Brien was his cousin, and maybe it wasn’t so unusual that they’d come to the same place at the same time, since they shared their strange talent. But before they’d been brought together to solve the bizarre murders in San Antonio…

He’d been going through the motions. Today…today had felt real. Something about Madison Darvil had gotten to him. She was smart, and she was beautiful in a completely natural way. But it was more than that.

He hit the cell number for LAPD’s lead detective on the case. A weary-sounding Benny Knox answered and gave his grudging promise to meet Sean at the morgue in twenty minutes.