EPILOGUE

 

 

The phone rang, jarring me. I might have to reconsider having a landline in the office. I had only slept a few hours the night of the ball or even Sunday night. I yawned. Cherie had taken a personal day, so I was answering my own phone.

“Hello?” I pulled my gaze from the laptop and gave the caller my undivided attention.

“Good morning, Catherine.”

It took me a second to place the voice. “Good morning, Robin,” I replied perfunctorily. I softened my tone; I wished I understood my instant dislike for the talent agent. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m well. Happy this nastiness with Michael Onyx was wrapped up.”

“Indeed.”

“I heard that he was killed in your condo.”

I remained quiet.

“By Alexander Moore, one of your clients.”

I sighed. She called to gossip. Lovely. Well, none of that was a secret. It had probably been all over the early morning news. Not that I had watched, of course; I was trying to get some sleep, albeit restless, unfortunately. I refocused on the call. “That is correct,” I gave a neutral response.

“Interesting that Mr. Moore was in your condo in the middle of the night.”

I gaped at the phone. What are we, in middle school? “Did you need something?”

“I’m calling to say I’m glad you’re okay,” she said insincerely. “The councilwoman will be on Entertainment Daily this morning talking about the story.”

“Why?” It popped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Robin sharply inhaled. “Why wouldn’t she? She’s very involved in the community.”

Now I rolled my eyes at the offense she took. Good grief, was she the councilwoman’s lackey? “Of course, she is. I’ll be sure to watch. Was there anything else?”

At least she didn’t miss the tone. “No. I’ll see you at the next chamber meeting.”

“Have a good day.” I hung the phone up in relief. She was so odd – and I still couldn’t really explain why. I typed on the laptop keyboard, calling up the television show’s website. They didn’t stream the show live, but the videos were loaded almost immediately after.

My cellphone pinged arrival of a text and I smiled when I saw it.

Good morning sunshine.

Good morning Alex.

Did you get any sleep?

A little. Btw, Robin the talent agent called. She said to watch Entertainment Daily this morning. Councilwoman will be on.

The one that you were asking about?

Yep.

I’ll watch.

It’s on a time delay for me; I’m watching on the computer.

I’ll text you if anything interesting happens, in case you want to skip it.

Lol. Dinner tonight?

Pick you up at 7.

I sent a few smiling emojis, minimized the show’s page, and focused back on the documents I had been working on. About fifteen minutes later, my cellphone pinged another incoming text.

Definitely should watch the show…

Anything I should know…

Just watch. Curious about your take on it.

Now my curiosity was piqued. I barely maintained attention on my documents until the show finished and its website reflected the video upload.

Finally. I clicked start and maximized the screen. Elizabeth Addison’s smiling face appeared. After welcoming viewers, her smile dropped. “In a stunning conclusion to the Actress Murders, the serial-murder-at-large has been stopped. Councilwoman Barbara Knollman, a grand supporter of the film production community in the Valley, is here with us this morning to discuss what happened. Welcome, Councilwoman Knollman.” She turned and the image switched to the camera on the councilwoman. Barbara lifted her head, her brown hair shiny under the lights, and smiled her creepy smile. I imagined she meant for it to be ingratiating.

“Thank you for having me, Elizabeth.”

The camera pulled back for a two-shot of the women, seated next to each other on two matching blue cloth chairs, as though meeting for tea in someone’s living room. The councilwoman, in a severe charcoal pantsuit, paled in comparison to the newscaster-attractiveness of Elizabeth in a hot pink fitted dress. And yet, there was something that compelled the eye. Perhaps this was why she kept being reelected.

Elizabeth provided a quick summary of the case for any of her viewers who’d spent the last months living under a rock and then opened the floor for the councilwoman. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Of course.” Barbara stared directly into the camera, normally a no-no; however she clearly wanted everyone’s attention. It certainly worked on me. I stared at her obsidian eyes. “Two nights ago, following a masquerade ball hosted by a Las Vegas/Los Angeles-based production company—” interesting that she didn’t mention Mia by name “—at the home of talent agent Catherine Rodham, local actor Michael Onyx was killed in self-defense by another local actor, Alexander Moore.”

Buzzing filled my head. I considered her words. None of that was a lie and probably was mentioned in the newscasts this morning. But. I refocused on her continuing to talk. I already missed some.

“The police are confident that they have their man, so to speak, and that the city can sleep safe again tonight. Michael Onyx was an animal. A danger to civilized society. And we must be ever-vigilant to stop such threats from infiltrating our city.”

When the camera switched back to Elizabeth, she smoothed out her expression; not so fast that viewers missed her looking askance at the councilwoman. “That seems an… unnecessarily strong sentiment,” she said with a tight smile.

The camera returned to Barbara, her smile showing those small, sharp teeth that unnerved me. She shook her head slowly. “Oh, Elizabeth, it’s not. We’re at war.”

My jaw dropped open – along with Elizabeth’s, though she recovered faster. “Thank you, Councilwoman. It’s been interesting.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth. Always a pleasure.”

The video ended and I stopped it before the webpage could auto-play the next in the series. I sat back in my chair. Holy cow. I grabbed my cellphone.

What did she mean? We’re at war?

I have no idea.

Could she know about…?

Possible.

What will you do?

It’ll be discussed in the appropriate circles and dealt with as necessary.

Okay then. That was quite a statement with no real information. Lol

Better this way.

I have no doubt.

See you tonight.

Again, we exchanged smiling emojis and then I got back to work, troubled by what I had seen, unsure of what it meant, and knowing I was entirely out of my depth anyway. Better for Alex and the supernatural world to address it.

*****

“I heard you have a greater level of understanding of my needs.” She crossed her legs, blue and white polka dot stockings peeking out below her mid-calf blue silk dress.

Normally that could be a cheesy sexual come-on, but since this was the fourth vampire sitting across from me in my office in less than a week, I understood exactly what she meant. Plus, we had met previously, and I knew she wasn’t propositioning me.

“I do, indeed, Evie,” I assured her. I loved how she still looked straight out of the 1920s with her blond bob and blue eyes, dark red lipstick contrasting with her creamy pale skin. I guessed that was her thing.

I took her through my standard spiel and paperwork. “I think that about wraps it up,” I concluded.

“One final thing.”

Uh-oh.

“Thank you.”

That caught me off guard. “For doing my job?”

“For being here. For being understanding and sympathetic to us. Not everyone is, or would be.”

“I appreciate that.”

“If you haven’t already, you can definitely expect more of our kind, as word continues to spread about you, and the Peterson Talent Agency.”

“I hope so. These are exciting times.” In so many different ways, I was finding out.

Evie stood and I did the same. She walked to the door, turned to give me a high-wattage smile, and walked out the door.

Welcome to the Paranormal Talent Agency!

 

 

 

 

 

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