Chapter Fifty-Nine

The next few days dragged by. Stephanie’s warning echoing endlessly. What did she know? How could she possibly hurt Jesse? Matt asked himself as he met with the Miramax people about another screenplay collaboration.

“You okay, Matt?” his publicist asked.

“Too many parties, I guess.”

She nodded but her look held no conviction.

“Where’s Stephanie?” she asked as they were leaving.

“She doesn’t represent me anymore.”

The woman raised her eyebrows. “Okay, Matt, let me know who to contact.”

By the weekend, he was back in Boston, worried about what havoc Stephanie might have wrought in his apartment. She had a key and in her state of mind he didn’t know what she was capable of.

When he opened the door, he breathed a sigh of relief. Everything looked intact. But Stephanie had been there and taken everything that belonged to her, the glass swans from the bed and breakfast in Vermont, even her Monet prints from the dining room.

He was afraid for Jesse—needed to warn her. But heading for the phone he realized he didn’t know her number. It wouldn’t be in information, but he had an idea. He searched and dug out the old card for Webb Productions and called, leaving Lawrence his cell number, adding it was very important they talk. Then he hailed a taxi and headed to see Mario.

Just as the door shut, his cell phone rang.

“Hello, Matt. Did you decide to take me up on that collaboration offer?” Lawrence asked.

“No.” Matt hadn’t planned what to say. “This is about Jesse.”

“I see.” Lawrence’s tone sounded cautious. “How can I help?”

“Is she all right?” Matt asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Has she been different since the Academy Awards?”

There was a long silence. Lawrence cleared his throat. “Could be. Why?”

“I’m not playing games, Lawrence. I think something happened out there between her and my agent.”

“You mean Stephanie Halloran?”

“Stephanie’s been acting strangely. I’m worried and need to talk to Jesse.”

“I’m not following you.”

“I’m afraid Stephanie might do something to hurt her, because Jesse and I used to be…very close.”

“Hurt Jesse?” There was a long pause. “You think Stephanie might hurt her? Should I hire someone—a bodyguard?”

Matt sighed. “I don’t know. I have no idea what she’s capable of, but I think it’s more likely Stephanie would do something to hurt Jesse’s reputation.”

“Look, if you need to talk to her, I understand. But I’m not sure that—”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to her myself.”

There was another long silence. Matt heard a sigh. “All right,” Lawrence answered coolly. “Here’s her cell number.”

****

Matt met Mario at Flour, the South End bakery that had become their rendezvous. He told his old friend everything that had happened at the Academy Awards and his conversation with Lawrence. Mario listened quietly.

“I think calling her is a good idea,” Mario said, looking at his watch. “Let me know what happens. I have some urgent business to tend to.” He excused himself, hurriedly walking away looking lost in thought.

He took a taxi back to his apartment. There was something strange about Mario’s behavior. He was so laid-back, so casual. Yet he’d always been so concerned about every detail of Jesse’s life. Why the sudden change? Matt was confused.

He wondered what damaging secrets Stephanie could possibly know about Jesse. He’d been searching for years and found nothing.

Matt thought about Mario. Had he found out something about her—something that changed his attitude? Was that the reason for his quick, unexplained getaway?

He walked into his apartment. Everything looked the same, but the living room had a distinctive odor. Cigarette smoke. As he went to his desk, he saw a Marlboro crushed on its polished oak finish. The middle drawer was slightly ajar. Inside was an envelope addressed to him in Stephanie’s handwriting. His heart pounded as he tore open the envelope.

Matthew,

Have you called her, telling her I’m coming? I’m sure you have. If not, don’t worry. She already knows. Go to her and comfort her. She’ll need it. I hope you will. You do make such a handsome couple. I’ve decided to include her lovely daughter in my little game. But relax, take your time. You’ll both wait a long time before I keep my promise. Enjoy your summer!

Love and Kisses,

Stephanie

She’d been clever. There was nothing in her note that sounded menacing—unless you knew the source.

He raced through the apartment, checking the bedrooms, the closets, everywhere. She was gone. He ran to the phone. Matt had no choice now. He had to call Jesse. But first, he’d call a locksmith and a security company. He wanted no more surprise visits from Stephanie.

****

Jesse answered on the first ring.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hello. Lawrence told me you called. Thanks for worrying about me.”

“I found a note from Stephanie threatening you. I don’t understand. This is a nightmare.”

“It is. But it’s not your nightmare. It never has been. I’ve tried to keep it that way.”

“But I feel responsible. What is it, Jess? What’s she going to say?”

She sighed. “I’m not sure. She knows things the tabloids might be interested in. Some bad things happened to me, Matt—things no one knew about.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make any difference to me, but they might hurt Ali.” Her eyes overflowed onto her cheeks.

“Isn’t there something you can do—we can do?” he asked.

“There’s nothing,” she whispered.

“If I’d known, I—”

“Don’t, Matt. You’re right. This is a nightmare. I thought I could outrun my past,” she said, swallowing a sob. “Some things we just can’t escape.”

“Jesse, I don’t like the sound of that. What do you mean?”

She didn’t let him finish.

“Remember what I said in my letter.”

“Jesse…”

“I love you, Matthew. I always have. I always will.” She closed her eyes and her cell phone. All she could do was wait.

Stephanie kept her word. The spring and the early summer passed quietly.

Just when Jesse thought her tormentor had given up, there’d be a cryptic message on her answering machine or cell phone. Stephanie had no intention of giving up.

Jesse talked to her lawyer, the police, and more private detectives. There was nothing they could do. There was nothing in writing, and the phone messages were so vague they sounded meaningless.

To add to the tension, Stephanie had disappeared. Since the week after the Academy Awards, no one had seen her—not Coughlin, not her family, no one.

As July became August, Jesse waited helplessly for the day when Stephanie would let the next shoe drop. By mid-August, the waiting game was having its effect. Jesse wanted it to be over.