Page 84 of The Attic on Queen Street
“As I told Marc and as you know full well, I have no control over what goes on in that house. And besides a few electrical mishaps, I wasn’t aware of anything else.”
“Yeah, well, those ‘mishaps’ have caused some serious delays.” She chewed furiously on her second croissant, then took a gulp of her coffee. “Marc’s doing his best to keep quiet about it because he doesn’t want to upset Harvey, who is already halfway out the door. Katherine Heigl just pulled out because she’s on a tight schedule to start her next project and can’t have any overlap, which is pretty much guaranteed at this point because they’re so behind schedule. Rob Lowe is starting to make noise, too, which is giving all of the producers the jitters. Without those two big names, the whole production is at risk.”
“I can’t say I’m sorry. But I can say that I had nothing to do with any of that. Neither did Jack.”
Rebecca began unwrapping her Snickers bar, attacking the paper with sharp pink-painted fingernails. “And those hateful articles in the paper. I met Suzy Dorf yesterday for lunch. We had a nice chat.”
I kept my face neutral. Rebecca and Suzy had once worked at thepaper together, so it made sense that they kept in touch. But it still made me nervous. “And what did she say?”
“She told me everything she’s written has been entirely her doing, without any coercion from you or Jack.” Rebecca pressed her lips together. “Not that I believe her, of course.” Her mouth turned up in a half smile. “We were considering suing her for libel, except all those negative comments about his book created a real boost in sales. Buxton Books had to order three more cases to keep up with demand.”
“How nice,” I said, and took a sip of coffee to wash down the sour taste in my mouth. “I can only promise you that I have not put words into Suzy’s mouth. We did a short interview about my family’s experience during the filming so far, but the rest is from her own research.”
“I could almost believe you, except...” She looked at me with wary, tearstained eyes. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. Marc would hate me even more.” She hiccupped.
I resisted the urge to tell her that if she thought her husband hated her, her marriage was in worse shape than she thought. “Look, Rebecca. We’re family, right?” I almost bit my tongue saying it, but I hoped it would be the one thing to make her listen. “I’m trying to help you. I’m simply suggesting that Marc... maybe isn’t the man you think he is. Or the husband he should be.”
Fresh tears spilled from her big blue eyes. “But he is. I know he is.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “And I know you’re behind the rest of the stuff going on at the house. Admit it.”
“Really, Rebecca. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do! Every time Marc or one of the film crew goes anywhere near the stairs when Jayne is up there with the twins, icy hands shove them away. The first guy who quit broke a finger when he fell, so it’s not like he’s imagining things.”
“Maybe he’s just clumsy?” I asked, feigning hopefulness.
“And the other three guys who say the same thing? They’re clumsy, too?”
Before I could come up with a plausible explanation, she said, “And whatever or whoever it is won’t allow Marc near the grandfather clock.He says his hair stands on end whenever he enters the parlor, and he feels actual hands grabbing at his shirt, pulling him away, whenever he gets within five feet of the clock.”
I didn’t say anything, but I was sure that Louisa was protecting the children and wouldn’t allow anyone she didn’t know up the stairs. And she more than likely was messing with the electricity to show her displeasure at the invasion of her home. As for whoever was prohibiting Marc from getting too close to the grandfather clock, I had my theories. I couldn’t help but remember the girl with the melted face and her dog, Otis. I’d seen her in the parlor before, with Nola. I just couldn’t think of why.
I took a deep breath. If I wanted her to be candid, I needed to reciprocate. “First of all, Marc has no business messing with the clock. Now, I do admit to having a... conversation with Louisa. She’s always been protective of the children, and I made it clear that she had my full approval to continue during the filming. If she got a little... carried away, I wasn’t going to stop her. Maybe when you’re a mother, you’ll understand.”
She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes again with her wadded napkin.
Gently, I asked, “Why hasn’t Marc said anything to me if he thinks I’m responsible?”
Rebecca was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure. I asked him the same thing. And he...” She stopped.
“He what?”
She looked down at the crumbs and wrapper shreds on the napkin in her lap and shook her head.
“I can’t help you, Rebecca, if you don’t tell me everything.”
After a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes met mine. “He... smiled. Not his usual friendly smile.”
I wanted to ask her if we were talking about the same Marc Longo, but I didn’t want to interrupt her.
“He said not to worry about it, that he had everything under control and that I should go back to growing our baby. Which was kind ofsweet, but I was once a journalist and I suppose I always will be, so I had to keep asking questions.”
I bit my lip so I wouldn’t be forced to contradict her about Marc’s comment being misogynistic instead of “sweet,” and remained silent, my telltale crossed leg bouncing with impatience.
Rebecca continued. “So I kept asking. He’s always so proud of himself when he figures something out, so I knew it wouldn’t be difficult to get him to tell me. It’s too hard for him to keep it to himself. He’s such a brilliant man, I can’t really blame him for wanting to share some of that brilliance, you know?”
I thought my lip might start bleeding if I kept biting it. Instead I forced a smile and nodded, my leg continuing to bounce.
“Anyway, he said that he’d found some kind of proof about the existence of something valuable. Something that he said would get us out of debt and secure our financial future.” She looked at me. Swallowed.
