“Wow. That's...”
“Pretty awesome?” Seth asked with a smug look on his face. Isabella tried to look like she wasn't impressed, but she was. Theophilus's voice echoed through the vents and pulled Isabella's attention back to their conversation.
“Catherine is under a tremendous amount of stress, you know.”
“I think it goes beyond that, Theo. Isabella and this hotel should be her primary focus right now, but instead she's letting it crumble to the ground.”
“At this time, it's no surprise that the hotel is having its fair share of struggles,” said Theophilus. “What's more concerning is the Violet Fire, but we're taking steps to fix it. If we involve Isabella now, it will be much easier.”
Robert grumbled audibly. Apparently, Theophilus had said something he did not like. “You and your Light—”
“Robert, please! These walls can't be trusted,” Theophilus said, sounding not at all like himself. He was angry. Authoritative. His next words, however, were a bit more relaxed. “She is just being protective of her granddaughter. Right now, the health of the Fire is only affecting the hotel and some of its operations. Before long, it will begin to affect the people inside, outside and underground.”
Isabella gasped. “Underground.” She covered her mouth. It was getting very warm in their hiding place. Seth's body was very close. Her heart started beating as images of the maps she and Micah had found filled her head.
“Is it possible that Isabella will succumb to the darkness, like he did?” Robert asked, quiet all of a sudden.
“He gave into fear,” said Theophilus. “Isabella is brave. I've watched her grow up, as have you.”
Robert went on. “She hasn't even seen your world. How do you know she will handle it well? He couldn't.”
“He was in despair over Beatrice. It turned him dark, made him lose his connection to everything and everyone. Isabella will never and could never be like him.”
“Let's not talk of him any longer. Just know that we will protect the Violet Fire no matter what we have to do. I want to bring Isabella to the lost heir. He'll never come here. With Catherine being so against it, we may have to do take care of it the hard way.”
“I'll watch over her if anything happens.”
Theophilus laughed. “You, old codger, need someone to watch over you...”
Isabella withdrew from the vent and looked at Seth with a blank stare. “The Underground. Micah and I found maps that said something about that and this ‘he’ they keep talking about. I think he's the guy in my dream. Robert's brother.”
“Hold up,” said Seth. “You had a dream about Robert's brother?”
“People say he had a thing for my Aunt Beatrice and doesn't like to come here. But it seems like everyone had a thing for her. My Uncle Robert did, too, I think, but it was really Leonard she was in love with. That was Robert’s other brother. Then there was that director—”
“Yeah, she was kinda hot,” said Seth. “I've seen her pictures.”
Isabella shot him a searing glare. “That's gross. They are super old. Anyway, I don't know much about him. Maybe he didn't really have a thing for my aunt. Maybe that wasn't it at all.”
“What do you mean?” asked Seth.
“Maybe he was protective of her for a different reason. Maybe he's the lost heir.” Isabella pondered these thoughts as the voices through the vent continued on.
“But she's a mere child, Theo!” Robert snapped, obviously displeased. Isabella and Seth shared a look and scrambled back on to the bench to listen better. “Do either of you plan on telling her all of this?” Robert continued. “Catherine can't be ready for that.” What had they said? What had she missed of the conversation?
“I've given her the necklace,” Theophilus went on.
“Catherine can't have approved that!” Robert blustered.
“I had no choice. She is approaching the sixteenth year. Catherine will come around as the rest of the Council has done—”
Seth nearly lost his footing and took Isabella down with him. “Remind me never to hire you to help me save the world,” Isabella hissed. “You can't even keep quiet in a closet.”
“Who's in there?” A sharp voice infiltrated their hiding spot from outside the closet. “What are you kids doing?” Elyse stood there, free of her waiting staff apron, tapping her right foot.
“Sorry,” said Isabella, jumping down from the bench. “Just, uh...”
“Eavesdropping, hmm?”
“No.” Isabella and Seth emerged from the closet. “It was, I mean, we— Wait. You know you can hear into...”
Elyse lifted her eyebrow.
Isabella sighed. “That's not what we were doing.”
“Then if I were you, I'd stop getting caught in precarious situations with boys,” Elyse said with a small smirk. “Come on. I'm on my way back to the lobby. You two are coming with me.”
“But—we need to...”
Elyse looked at Isabella expectantly.
“You're right. Let's go, Seth.”
“What's precarious mean?” Seth whispered to Isabella as they started back behind the dark-haired waitress.
Isabella shrugged, though she knew full well what it meant. She was accustomed to a few staff members like Elyse taking on a parental role when her grandmother was busy. Sometimes she was fine with it, loved them for it. Other times, like right at that every moment, it irritated her to no end.
When they got back to the lobby, Elyse touched Isabella's shoulder. “I'm serious. Behave. You're nearly sixteen.” The reminder made Isabella's stomach sour. Robert and Theophilus said something about her being sixteen, like it meant something more than just being sixteen. Succumb to darkness? Was that it? Maybe it meant she was going to go crazy. “You can't do the same things you used to when you were younger,” Elyse finished.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“You have a reputation to uphold, honey. You're the only living Foxworthy.” Another waitress gestured for Elyse to join her from across the room. “I have to go. Behave now, you hear?”
When she had gone, Isabella said, “I'm going back to my room. I'm tired.”
“Wait,” Seth said as she started toward the elevator. “What did Theophilus mean when he said he gave you the necklace? What necklace?”
“I don't know,” she said, turning back toward the elevator.
“You're lying.”
She sighed, turning to him and planting her fists on her hips. “So what if I am? Thank you for going with me and all, but that still doesn't mean I can trust you. We barely know each other, remember?”
Seth's expression was earnest, and she let out a deep sigh. She hadn't had any luck reading either of the guarded Logan boys—with the exception of Micah's breakdown in the speakeasy room—until that very moment. Disappointment was written all over his face. She pursed her lips and turned away from him, wondering if she shouldn't have said what she just did. She punched the up arrow and waited for her ride up. She just wanted to go upstairs and make sense of all this alone.
Apparently, Seth's disappointment didn't last. “Who's the lost heir, then? Does that mean the hotel isn't yours?”
Isabella shot an annoyed look at Seth. “It's not that. They're talking about the lost Foxworthy heir. The next in succession, but apparently he isn't lost. The weird thing was they said he's met me before, and I had no idea. No one ever said. I think maybe he could be someone they don't want me to know about.”
“Let me guess, the guy in your dream?” Seth asked, leaning against the wall.
“Don't you have somewhere to go? The multiplex down the road has a midnight showing of some movie that blows up aliens or something, I think.”
“But I still don't get it,” he went on without responding to her suggestion. “Aren't you the heir in your father's will?”
The elevator opened, and she stepped inside. To her surprise, he followed her. Of course, he was probably going up to his room. He'd be gone soon. He looked
at her and seemed genuinely curious. “We're broke. Only the next in succession can open the family vault, which is hidden somewhere. I know that much, but I thought it was, like, some legend. I've never actually seen the vault. I have no idea where it is.” She noticed he hadn't pressed the button for his floor and continued the ride up to the penthouse with her. She tried to fight a hot feeling that swept over her at the thought. She had no idea why that made her feel warm. She wanted him to go back to his room, didn't she? Or maybe she didn't.
“Well, they obviously do,” he continued, shaking her from her thoughts. His eyes were blue-green, not just blue, like she’d thought. “Why don't we just ask them?”
“They'll never tell us,” she said, clearing her throat.
“Theophilus will,” Seth insisted.
Isabella laughed. “Over my grandmother's dead body.”
“This all seems a little sketchy to me,” he said as the elevator arrived at her floor. He didn't get out. Instead, he held the door open with his hand, and then placed his foot over the threshold so that the elevator door would not close. “They're keeping a lot of secrets from you. And what did Uncle Robert mean about you succumbing to darkness? That's a little scary, don't you think?”
“They just think I'm crazy,” said Isabella.
“Why would they think that?”
She shrugged a shoulder, not wanting to tell him that she worried about it herself and her weird “empathy” feelings. Then she remembered Theophilus saying the boys were a part of the whole thing, too. Seth seemed more confused than she was about all of this. She gave in and spilled more information to this boy she'd only just met and didn't even know if she liked all that much. “Theophilus tried talking to me after one of our meetings in the theater, but he didn't go into great detail.” She started toward her door through the small foyer that separated the elevator from the penthouse suite. “I have to go call my friend Lana. I'll see you at rehearsal.”
Isabella heard Seth mutter “girls” under his breath as he let the elevator door close. She knew he was right. The lost heir had to be found, and one of the things she hadn't told Seth was she had an idea of where he might be.
Isabella's room was perched high enough for her to see right into the backlot of Brightwood Studios. The black of night hung over it now and its grounds were bare. In the daylight, though, she could see past the studio into Culver City and on out to the new metro line. Though her Uncle Robert's father once owned the studio, Brightwood had been out of the Heel family's hands for decades. But she'd begun to see from time to time a strange man who resembled Jack Heel, starting about a year ago.
For the past few days, she’d often caught sight of the man. He had hair as dark as hers and each time had limped from a tiny bungalow, around a path, and down some steps that seemed to lead underground. Sometimes he would emerge on the studio front lawn; from where, she had no idea. Then he'd disappear. One morning after she’d seen him last week, she’d taken out her binoculars to try and get a better look at him. He’d had on a dark blue or black suit and looked to have an air of deep purpose. He reminded her of the man in her dreams. But it couldn't be Jack Heel; he looked to be no more than thirty-five. Still, peering at him through the lens, she could feel his essence all the way from her bedroom window.
He had to be the lost heir. Jack Heel or not. She knew it with everything inside of her. She'd never been on the studio lot. There was always a wild essence emanating from it that made her want to stay away. That, and it was nearly impossible to get past security. There was something different about Brightwood Studios. Something powerful. Something, she guessed, that had very little to do with making movies. It scared her beyond reason, but she had to try.
Deciding to call Lana in the morning, Isabella went over to her drawer and took out the necklace Theophilus had given her. She slipped it on. For some reason, she knew she would need it. She was in this a hundred percent now, even though she had no idea what it was. She fell asleep, clutching the necklace in her palm.
***
The next morning, after looking for the man and being disappointed when he did not appear, she positioned herself in front of her computer, and, like clockwork, the ring of Lana's call vibrated through the speakers of her PC. With the click of a button, a window opened with Lana staring at her, smiling. Isabella echoed the events of the night to her best friend, as she sat still, listening in amazement.
“None of this makes any sense,” said Lana.
“I know.”
“What are you gonna do?” Lana asked.
“Try to find him... or her.”
Lana looked on with curiosity. “Do you really think it could be a woman?”
“No.” Isabella walked away from the computer to retrieve a newspaper clipping taped to her vanity mirror.
“Where'd you go?”
She returned to Lana, sticking the black-and-white newspaper to the eye of the camera. The headline read, Ferocious Fire Consumes Hollywood Couple. There were pictures of Clint Foxworthy and his wife, Carmen Vega-Jones, below it.
“Your mom and dad.”
“This is why I have to do this.” She snatched the clipping back toward her and returned it to her scrapbook. “My parents died that night, and I am almost sure the guy who saved me was Jack Heel. I don't know why I believe that, but I just feel it. Now people are whispering about me dying or going crazy or something. Or maybe it's more than just me. Something is going on. I thought Theophilus was crazy, but now I'm not so sure. He said he's my protector. And Uncle Robert, he seems so worried. The main reason is I want this hotel to stay safe. I want things to be normal, like my parents would have wanted them to be for me. That's why they lived in a house just off the grounds of the hotel. They didn't want me to have to be around whatever all this is. But now, I don't have a choice. This is all I have.”
“And, of course, you don't want to die.”
“Well, that, too.”
“You got one thing right,” said Lana. “Theophilus is crazy. Maybe this is all some kind of elaborate trick, an early birthday prank, which, by the way, I promise to be back for.”
Isabella yelped with glee, not something she did often. “Really?”
“What kind of best friend would I be if I missed your birthday?” Isabella smiled. Lana always made it to her birthday, but every year she feared she'd call her with a change of plans because of her high-powered parents' schedule. Lana changed the subject. “Maybe you should go live your mother's family or something.”
“What? I don't even know where they are. They're like your parents.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry. I just mean, they live fast lives outside of the country. Your parents are different. They're in politics. The music industry is so much weirder.”
“Yeah, I guess they live fast lives inside the country.” Lana seemed to be growing uncomfortable with the conversation. “So, do you really think it could be this Jack?” She popped a piece of gum into her mouth. Her little sister appeared on the side and waved her hand back and forth at Isabella. She had the same cinnamon-brown skin and loopy curls as Lana. Unlike her sister, she had the deepest dimples ever, making everyone who met her want to pinch her little cheeks.
“Hi, Dot.”
“Guess what, Isabella? I lost two teeth.” She grinned, advertising her missing incisors.
“That's awesome.”
“Get out of here now!” Lana screeched, pushing her sister off camera. A rustle followed by a slamming door was heard. Lana returned with a calm, smiling face. ”Continue.”
“I want to go to Brightwood to try to find Jack,” said Isabella.
“Yeah. You said something about seeing this fake Jack guy creeping around before, and I'm gonna say what I said before. That cannot be him. He would be like a hundred.”
“More like eighty,” Isabella said.
“Closer to ninety,” Lana argued. ”I read up on my Foxworthy-Heel family history books in the library.” Isabella knew this is w
as true. Lana was a history nut.
“Yeah. Yeah.”
“Listen, Isabella. That Jack guy is dead. If he's got a person dressing up like him at the studio, I don't think you should go looking for him. That means one hundred percent that he's what you call a creeper.”
“I think it's more than that,” said Isabella. “I've been thinking Jack could be the lost heir.”
Lana had been drinking some bottled tea and nearly spit it out, but instead she swallowed demurely before composing her response. ”Huh? Why would you think that?”
“Because I feel crazy connected to the guy when I see him crossing the lawn.”
“Look, I know you need the lost heir to open your family vault and save the hotel. That's what I know. But you have to let your grandmother contact him. They seem like they know where he is, right?”
Isabella nodded.
“Then let them figure it out,” said Lana, “and if they want to introduce you, they will. And then you'll see it's not a ghost but a real person.”
Isabella tried not to roll her eyes. “Fine, then, but what about all that other stuff?”
“I hate to say it, because I know you don't like him, but I agree with that Seth guy. Ask Theophilus.”
Isabella knew Lana was right, but she knew that wouldn't be enough. The lost heir was the only one who could help her open the vault, save the hotel, tell her what the hell all this Violet Fire stuff meant, and get everything back to normal. She was sure of it. “I'm sorry, Lana, but I think I should get going. Love ya, and I'll talk to you soon!”
They blew each other kisses, and with that, Isabella shut down her computer and made her way to her bathroom to shower and change. There was no turning back. She had a studio to infiltrate.
The Lost Heir Page 8
