Page 57 of The Attic on Queen Street
“I know, I know. And I’m sorry. It’s just that with three kids, a house, a job—”
“Stop.” She held up her hand. “I know. And with Marc Longo practically living in your house and directing the film. I keep waiting to get the call to write about the homicide.”
“Really, Suzy. Marc’s pretty awful and underhanded, but I can’t imagine him committing murder.”
“It’s not him that I’m worried about.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yes, well, even after he’s dead, there’s no guarantee that he won’t bother me anymore. Assuming I’m able to talk to the dead.”
Suzy turned a hard gaze on me. “Right. Assuming.”
I didn’t blink. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
She let out a long, satisfied sigh. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. As I’ve mentioned before, and assuming that you are a conduit to the dead, I’d like to interview you about your abilities, as wellas witness you”—she made a vague gesture with her hand—“doing your thing with ghosts. My goal is to write a series for the paper or put it in a book. Or both. I’ve already started on the book—about fascinating Charleston residents past and present—and as I’ve already told you, I think you’d be a pivotal figure because you can be the bridge between them.”
I was careful not to give her any indication that I’d heard what she’d said or agreed to any of it. I bit my bottom lip, carefully considering my words. “You once told me that you’re not a fan of Marc Longo. That he bankrupted your brother in a sour business deal.”
Her gaze didn’t stray from my face. “Yes. That’s all correct. It’s why I’ve helped you several times, despite your unwillingness to return my phone calls. He did more than bankrupt Kenny. He destroyed him. Kenny spent two years in a psychiatric institution and is still trying to put his life back together.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I looked down at my crumpled doughnut bag. “My ‘abilities,’ as you call them, aren’t something I’ve ever wanted to advertise or even make use of. But that could change. Marc has backed us into a corner and I’m willing to do anything to get him out of our lives.”
Suzy raised her pixielike chin. “I think we could work together. We have a common goal. I could help you send Marc running with his tail between his legs, and then I get to ‘out’ you in my book. The pen is mightier than the sword, right? I could really mess with Marc with just a few well-placed columns.” She tilted her head. “Except I’m assuming that you’ve made some sort of devil’s deal with Marc to allow him to film in your house, so sending him running might be complicated. And with all the online chatter about there being a missing half of the Hope Diamond that might be connected to your cache, I can only imagine that’s the main reason why Marc has insinuated himself into your house, to have a closer look.”
I returned her gaze, recalling how she’d once told me that she’d seen Jack in a bar, apparently bargaining with his demons before ordering a ginger ale. Despite our somewhat cantankerous relationship, herwarning had been offered with concern instead of the malicious gloating I would have expected. Nor had she publicized what could have been a humiliation that Jack couldn’t have afforded. Her kindness had surprised me, had even altered my perception of her, and was the main reason why I’d finally agreed to meet with her.
“Possibly,” I said, my reluctance to admit the full extent of our deal due more to embarrassment at our gullibility than uncertainty as to whether or not to trust her. “We made the mistake of believing that Marc had changed along with his hair, and he and Rebecca appealed to us because we’re ‘family’—distantly and only by marriage, thank God.”
“So what happened?” she asked gently. When I didn’t respond right away, she said, “My brother tried to kill himself after Marc was through with him. It’s taken him nearly five years to get his life back on track. Believe me when I say that I will do everything in my power to bring Marc Longo down to his knees.” She shrugged. “Besides, I like you. I like your family and the way you’ve made the Vanderhorst house a home even though I know you’re not a fan of old houses. Maybe it’s your sense of doing the right thing that I admire. I know Nevin Vanderhorst would approve.”
“You knew him?”
She smiled softly and nodded. “I met him only once or twice, but we were sort of pen pals. He wrote to me years ago about an error in an article I’d written. He was right, of course, and the way he criticized me was so gentlemanly that I wrote back to thank him. We continued to exchange letters over the years, pretty much until the day he died. And I know how much he adored his house and how happy it would make him to see you and your family growing and thriving in it.” Her lips thinned. “Just as much as he’d dislike Marc Longo darkening your doorstep.” She tilted her head. “So, what happened?”
I took a deep breath. “Marc threw a wrench into Jack’s career. Not just by stealing Jack’s book idea, which resulted in Jack’s publisher canceling his book. Marc—who apparently has connections everywhere—spread lies and rumors about Jack and those he’d worked with so thatJack’s supporters in the publishing world were all gone. Marc promised Jack he would fix things if we allowed the filming, even promised to make introductions to several top literary agents. He also agreed to split his gross fifty-fifty with us. More than anything else, I think the lure of finally earning money for his own story idea is what made Jack cave and agree. But despite our due diligence, I’m convinced that this is just another lie Marc has told us, and he just wants to get inside the house to find treasure he believes might still be hidden there. I have no doubt that when this is over with, he will find a way to somehow weasel out of his promises and leave us right where we were. Except it will be worse because we will have allowed the filming of a movie based on a book that Marc stole from Jack. Not only that, but we both signed a contract stating that whoever breaks the contract loses everything.”
“Assuming you’re caught.” Suzy gave me an impish grin. “And what does Jack think?”
I studied my hands, opening my left one, where my wedding and engagement rings winked the sun’s reflection, reminding me of Jack’s bare ring finger. “I’m on my own here. It’s... complicated with Jack and me right now. I just know that I can’t sit back and wait for the train to crash without trying to stop it first.”
I looked up at the sound of her clapping. “Brava, Melanie. Brava.” She grinned impishly again. “I think we have a lot in common, and I expect we’ll enjoy working together.”
I returned her smile, then quickly sobered. “My only hesitation is from wondering if I’m wrong about Marc. What if he has every intention of following through on his promise and I inadvertently take this opportunity away from Jack?”
“What does your gut instinct tell you?”
“That a palmetto bug can’t change its wings.”
“What?”
“Sorry—that’s Charlestonese for ‘a leopard can’t change its spots.’ My own regional adaptation.”
Suzy nodded slowly. “Okay. I happen to agree with you regarding Marc. Once a low-down dirty liar, always a low-down dirty liar. He’sgreedy and dishonest and I could see him selling his own child if it might benefit him.”
I refrained from voicing my thought that if the child Rebecca was currently carrying had the opportunity to be raised by different parents, it might not be a bad thing. “It looks like our thoughts have been running parallel to each other. I’ve been thinking of a way to stop the filming and to get Marc right where it hurts—his wallet and his ego. It would involve using my... ‘abilities.’ It would also involve your journalistic skills and bringing back your series on buried treasures in the Holy City.”
Suzy leaned forward. “You’re right. We have been having parallel thoughts—which is a very good thing. I’m eager to hear more and even more excited to get started.”
I met her gaze. “Me, too. But I’m hesitant about getting started because the outcome will be the same—Jack’s career will be permanently stalled whether or not Marc gets his movie filmed. Marc will probably make me the scapegoat so that Jack blames me.”
