Curse of the Kissing Cousins

by Kelner, Toni, L. P.

  “Don’t use it.”

  “Understood. Will Cooper be available this week to help me pull it all together?”

  “As long as it doesn’t get in the way of his regular work.”

  “What is this all about?” Nicole asked again. “Do you need me to help? I’ve got time this week.”

  “Is that right?” Jillian said frostily.

  “I mean, if it’s okay with you,” she said hurriedly.

  “I’m sure Tilda and Cooper will tell you if they need you,” Jillian said with an edge in her voice. Tilda had never been sure if Jillian truly trusted Nicole or if she was just giving her enough rope to hang herself, and she still wasn’t sure. But since the conflict benefited her, she wasn’t going to complain.

  “Thanks for the offer, Nicole,” Tilda said. “We’ll let you know.” She yawned. “As soon as I get my article handed in, I’m going to go home to catch a few z’s before hitting the phones. I’ve been short on sleep all weekend.”

  “It shows,” Nicole muttered.

  It took only a few minutes to link into the magazine’s network to e-mail her article. Tilda felt a little more kindly toward it now that she’d added a sidebar of her own. As she headed for the door, she saw Nicole making a beeline for Cooper to start picking his brain. She felt a little sorry for him, but not enough to delay her. As it was, she nearly conked out on the subway and was sound asleep precisely four minutes after she got back to her apartment.

  The next few days were probably the busiest of Tilda’s life, and she wondered why it was she thought being a freelancer was easier than having a real job. First she had to get in touch with the folks she needed for her plan and let them know it was definitely going to happen. Then she had to make plane and hotel reservations, arrange for limousines and security, and round up costumes and an endless variety of props and incidentals. Everybody involved had to be kept up to date, but different people needed different information, and it gave Tilda no end of problems keeping it all straight.

  She also had to deal with Vincent’s panic as the week went by. He was convinced that somebody was doomed to die on Thursday, though he couldn’t make up his mind about who it would be, and though Tilda was sure everybody was safe, after a while she got nervous too. Finally she got Nick involved. He made a few calls and arranged for full-fledged security details to protect the surviving cast members. Still, Tilda guessed that Vincent didn’t sleep all day Thursday—she didn’t get to bed until well after midnight herself.

  Finally it was Friday night, and Cooper insisted that she spend the night at his place. His stated reason was to make sure she drank enough wine to get a decent night’s sleep, instead of being up all night worrying over details it was too late to change, but not so much as to give her a hangover the next morning. She knew the real reason was that he wanted to make sure she stayed alive until their plan came to fruition, but since she was in favor of the concept, she didn’t argue.

  Chapter 27

  A lot of teen shows like Kissing Cousins were forgotten on

  award night, but I used to tell the actors not to worry about

  awards. Awards are great to hang on your wall or put on your

  mantle, but they don’t mean squat to a career. If you want a

  career, respect the fans. Take care of your fans, and they’ll take

  care of you.

  —SOPHIA VAUGHN, QUOTED IN “CURSE OF THE KISSING COUSINS,” ENTERTAIN ME!

  AT eleven o’clock Saturday morning, Tilda was standing outside the Bayside Expo Center. The Beantown Collectibles Extravaganza had opened at ten, but while a few of the attendees had gone inside to start stocking up on must-have collectibles like McDonald’s Happy Meal toys, pirated videos from British television shows, collector cereal boxes, and Neopets trading cards, the majority were waiting outside to see the arrival of the surviving members of the cast of Kissing Cousins, who were going to be reuniting for the first time since the show was canceled.

  Had it been before the advent of the Web, Tilda doubted she could have gotten the word out in time. Or rather, she doubted Vincent, Rhonda, and Javier would have been able to—they’d been burning up the Internet ever since she’d called them on Monday to let them know that Entertain Me! was sponsoring the event. They were so excited that she’d hardly needed the bribes she’d offered them. Except for Javier of course.

  Tilda had considered arriving with the Cousins, but had decided she’d rather be there to watch and, if necessary, direct the photographer and videographer Jillian had sent. More importantly, she wanted to watch the crowd. So far she hadn’t spotted the face she was looking for, but she could have easily missed it in the mass of fans. And what an enthusiastic mass they were.

  They were armed with cameras, autograph books, and memorabilia to be signed, and carrying posters professing their love for whichever Cousin they favored or just “Kissing Cousins 4-Ever!” The were dressed in Kissing Cousins T-shirts—the one Tilda liked best said “Cousin Kisser”—and surprisingly elaborate costumes from the show. She saw three blondes in cheerleader costumes more or less identical to Sherri’s, two biker dudes, a lab-coated scientist drinking something green from a beaker, and at least a dozen Mercy look-alikes in various guises, including three in the lacy black dress and veiled hat from the homecoming dance episode.

  Somewhere in the crowd, Tilda was sure, was a killer.

  Just after eleven, the first black limo pulled into the parking lot. There were cheers until the limo turned so the crowd could see the banner on the door that said “Gabby & Gwen.” Tilda knew the twins would have been awfully unhappy if they’d heard the disappointed murmurs, including the start of a chant of “shark jumpers.” Then the limo driver and a tuxedo-clad Vincent hopped out to open the two doors simultaneously and, in unison, out stepped the twins. The fans gasped.

  No Barbie outfits, no hair ribbons on bouncy ponytails. Their hair hung down, though Gwendolyn’s looked shorter because she’d curled it into ringlets while Gabrielle had left hers straight. Both of their dresses had corset bodices with long filmy skirts, and they were wearing ridiculously high heels. But Gwendolyn’s outfit was pastel pink, with white stockings and pumps, while Gabrielle was in black, and the fishnet stockings she wore with black ankle boots were red. The two posed for photos, Gwendolyn looking sweet but flirtatious, and Gabrielle looking not at all sweet and even more flirtatious. The crowd broke out into applause.

  Cooper, who’d been the twins’ stylist and was now acting as emcee, stepped up to them with a portable microphone and said, “Welcome to Boston, Gabby and Gwen. Is there anything you’d like to say to the fans?”

  Gwen said, “We’re both so happy to be here with all of you. Working on Kissing Cousins was such an awesome experience, and you fans are the best.” Then she looked sad. “Though I guess some people think our joining the cast was when the show jumped the shark.”

  There were shouted denials, including one from a guy who was surreptitiously stuffing a poster of a shark eating the twins into a trash can.

  Then Gabrielle said, “Jump the shark? I thought we were supposed to hump the shark. And I say, bring on that bad boy.”

  This time, the applause was thunderous. With that as an exit line, Vincent offered one arm to each to escort them inside, looking as if he were caught betwixt heaven and hell and loving every minute of it. A phalanx of security guards, some in the uniforms of the expo center and some in black T-shirts with “SECURITY” emblazoned on the back, opened a corridor through the crowd and inside the center.

  The fans were so busy watching the twins strut away that they hardly noticed when the next limo pulled up. This one was labeled “Felicia,” and there were scattered hisses in the crowd as well as a new chant: “Tattletale.” When the limo driver opened the door, Kat Owen stepped out, dressed in a striking plum pantsuit with an Hermès scarf around her neck and wearing the kind of gold earrings fashion writers call important. She beamed confidently at the crowd.

  Cooper
offered his welcome and the microphone, which she accepted with a smile. “I’m so glad to be here to meet up with my old friends. Now some people say I was a Goody Two-shoes on Kissing Cousins, and it’s true that Felicia didn’t drink and didn’t smoke. I’m still that way myself. Don’t drink, don’t smoke.” She paused while Cooper surreptitiously turned on a backup tape, then ripped into a cover of “Goody Two Shoes” by Adam Ant.

  The crowd went crazy. They sang along, they bopped in place, a few even danced across the parking lot. Some of them had decent moves too, Tilda was pleased to see. The Entertain Me! photographer and videographer were even more pleased.

  When Kat finished, there were shouts of “Encore, encore!” but the singer only smiled and handed the microphone back to Cooper before letting Javier walk her into the expo center, escorted by more security people.

  The next limo, bannered “Elbert,” drove up. The chauffeur came around, opened the door, and stood at attention. Nothing happened. A minute passed. The crowd grew restless. Finally the chauffeur reached into the limo and came out with a white lab coat in one hand. The man shrugged his shoulders, then reached into his pocket, produced a packet of powder, and threw it down onto the parking lot. There was a flash and smoke and more than a few yelps of surprise. As the smoke cleared, Tilda saw that the chauffeur had shed his cap and livery, and had pulled on the lab coat. As everybody watched, he produced goggles from a pocket, put them on, and in his trademark squeaky voice gave Elbert’s trademark line: “Time to go back to the lab.” Noel Clark, sitcom scientist and soap opera chauffeur, had arrived, showing no ill effects from his recent poisoning.

  There was a pause, and Tilda was afraid the joke had fallen flat—it had been a gamble, but the man couldn’t sing and he couldn’t very well dress like the twins. Then she heard a chuckle, and another, and soon laughter was running through the crowd. Noel bowed, nodded at Cooper’s welcome speech, and repeated his line for the mike. The fans said it with him, and went on to chant it as his security people got him inside. Rhonda had been the only actual passenger in the limo, and she emerged with a big grin on her face to walk in with Noel.

  There was one limo left, and the crowd grew quiet as it pulled up. This banner said “Mercy.” The driver came around to hand out a figure in yet another version of Mercy’s homecoming dress, but this one was—though not the actual dress—almost indistinguishable from the original. Even Cooper seemed daunted by the presence and barely remembered to give his welcome spiel. The veiled figure didn’t reach for the microphone, only raised one gloved hand to the crowd in greeting before taking Cooper’s arm. They swept inside to the sound of cheers.

  The Kissing Cousins had arrived.

  Chapter 28

  Episode 15: Cousins Detective Agency

  When Brad is accused of stealing a wallet from a fellow team

  member’s locker and gets suspended from the football team,

  the Cousins join forces to find the real thief. They stage a

  denouement involving Sherri and Mercy dressing to distract,

  Elbert and Felicia booby-tracking other lockers, and Damon

  intimidating witnesses, but it’s Brad himself who catches the

  supposed victim retrieving the wallet from a hiding place. He’d

  faked the theft to get Brad off the team so he could be quarterback.

  —FANBOY’S ONLINE KISSING COUSINS EPISODE GUIDE, BY VINCENT PETERS

  ONCE Mercy disappeared inside, the throng on the sidewalk started making its own way into the expo center. The cast was scheduled to appear on stage in an hour and a half, but in the meantime there was plenty of memorabilia to look at and buy. Tilda passed the intriguing displays to go through to the back of the hall, where the celebrity guests had been stashed in private rooms just off the exhibit hall. A cluster of reporters, photographers, and cameramen were waiting at the door to the secured area, but the security guard kept waving them back, saying, “Give us a few minutes to get them settled, and you’ll have your chance.” Tilda sailed right past them, quite enjoying the grumbles she left in her wake.

  The door opened onto a long corridor lined with more doors. Though each of the cast members had been assigned a private room for downtime and interviews, as Tilda walked past the twins’ room, she saw that Kat and Noel were crowded in with Gabrielle and Gwendolyn, all of them chattering like . . . like former stars who’d just been given the kind of attention they hadn’t received in years. Cooper was pouring champagne provided by Entertain Me! as the performers congratulated one another on their entrances. They hadn’t been able to rehearse, and the performers were clearly stoked from having nailed it. Vincent, Rhonda, and Javier were in there too, looking as happy as only fans getting personal time with celebrities can be.

  Cooper caught sight of Tilda and called for her to join them, but she only waved and kept going. The door on the very end was labeled for Mercy, and she tapped on the door and let herself in. The room’s one inhabitant was sitting on a battered vinyl sofa, still wearing the veil.

  “Are you okay?” Tilda asked.

  A nod was the only response.

  “Do you need anything?”

  A shake of the head.

  “I’m sorry you missed everybody else’s entrances—they were spectacular! Even better than we’d hoped.” She went on to give more details, but after a few minutes, she realized she was babbling. “You can watch the video later, if you want to.” She paused. “Are you nervous?”

  Another head shake.

  “Good,” she said. “There’s no reason to be nervous.”

  A gesture for Tilda to come sit on the couch. She did, but found it somehow disturbing to have only a veil to look at.

  As if sensing her discomfort, her companion reached for Tilda’s hand and squeezed, then pulled the hand up under the veil and kissed her palm.

  Tilda knew it was the absolute wrong time to be aroused, but it was impossible not to be, especially when a greedy mouth sucked in one of her fingers. Tilda’s heart, already beating fast from nervousness, went even faster.

  She was wondering how much further they were going to go when the door to the room opened and a man stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind him. He didn’t bother to lock it—the nasty-looking pistol aimed at them was plenty enough to keep them in place.

  “Bitches!” he hissed. “Disgusting, perverted bitches!” His normally handsome face, with the tan Tilda had so admired, was blotchy red with fury.

  “Hello, Lawrence,” Tilda said as calmly as she could. “Or should I call you Wallace?” Without making any sudden moves, she scooted far enough away on the couch to leave room to maneuver. “Are you here for an exclusive?”

  “I’m here to end this once and for all,” he said, looking directly at the veiled figure. “I’m just sorry it’s going to be quick—I’d like to drag it out to make you pay for all the years it’s taken me to find you. If I could, I’d make you tell me where you’ve been hiding.” He barked a kind of laugh. “Hell, it doesn’t matter. I found you. I win.”

  Tilda said, “Found her? Dude, her appearance here was in the Globe, on TV, and all over the Internet. A cockroach could have found her.”

  “Shut up! You’re dead too.”

  A gloved hand lifted to warn Tilda to be quiet, but it wasn’t something she needed to be told. Her intent was to distract the man, not make him act faster.

  Lawrence barked, “Take off that damned hat. I want to see your face before I blow it off.”

  Slowly, deliberately, the black-clad figure reached up and lifted the veil and then the hat. Knowing what had been hidden, Tilda was watching Lawrence, and she saw his face go slack with shock when he realized it wasn’t Mercy after all. It was Nick Tolomeo.

  Lawrence’s hand shook just for a second, but that was long enough for Nick to fling the hat into the other man’s face. Then he shoved Tilda to the floor and flung himself at Lawrence. Tilda threw her arms over her head, waiting for a gunshot, but instead there was the s
ound of men bursting into the room and tackling Lawrence. Dom, who’d led the way, was the one to wrest the gun out of Lawrence’s hand, and he stepped back with it as the other security guards handcuffed the killer’s arms behind his back, despite his kicking, spitting, and truly impressive cursing. It took four men to drag him off, and Tilda couldn’t help but wince when she saw his head bouncing off the floor. She already knew where they were taking him. Out in the loading area, where the fans couldn’t see, a van was waiting to deliver Lawrence to the nearest police station.

  Tilda heard worried voices coming from the twins’ room, but she also heard a security guard assuring them that everything was okay.

  Nick helped her up off of the floor. “Are you okay?”

  “Peachy. You?”

  He grinned. “I’m stoked! We got the bastard!”

  “You got the bastard. And we didn’t get shot. That’s a plus.”

  “Hey, I’m wearing my vest. You wore the one I gave you too, right?”