“I’m not alone,” Rowan said. “Quinn is with me. He’s just talking to a few of his men before heading over.”
“Oh.” Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, her smile widening when she saw the man in question. “He’s something to look at, isn’t he?”
Rowan shifted, uncomfortable. “He is. He’s got a personality to match the looks.”
“You’re lucky.” Rebecca turned back. “You could both sit with us if you want. I would be more than happy to introduce you to people. I know you’re a fan of the work so it might be fun.”
On a normal day, Rowan would’ve jumped at the chance. Weariness – and a general lethargy – stopped her. “Actually, Quinn and I are going to eat a quiet dinner and then turn in early. Another night perhaps.”
“Oh, sure, but you don’t want to miss the big show after the dinner,” Rebecca argued. “They’re going to show clips of all the nominated work. It’s supposed to be a big extravaganza.”
“That sounds fun, but I think I’ve already seen everything.”
“Not put together like this.”
“No, but … I really am tired. It’s been a long day.” Something about Rebecca’s demeanor set Rowan’s teeth on edge. She seemed to be putting on a show and her new persona was vastly different from the woman she met earlier in the day. It was … jarring. “We’ve spent the better part of the day looking for Callisto and I’m pretty tired.”
“Oh, right.” Rebecca had the grace to look abashed. “Any news on that? You obviously didn’t find her because she’s not breathing fire about the fact that I’m sitting at her table.”
“No, we haven’t found her.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
Rowan couldn’t decide if Rebecca was genuinely curious or digging for information. She hated being suspicious of the woman. She never considered herself a suspicious person by nature. Snarky? Absolutely. Suspicious? Not so much. Now she couldn’t stop herself from doing just that, though.
“It means that we have no sign of her but can’t rule anything out.” Despite everything Quinn said only twenty minutes before, Rowan believed she was telling the truth. “We’ve called the Coast Guard for help and the searches will continue tomorrow.”
“You called the Coast Guard? What can they do?”
“Search the water. There’s always a chance Callisto accidentally fell in.” Even though she knew it was a lie, Rowan plowed forward. “It’s happened before. They find people who fell off ships and transport them to safety. Heck, they could already have her. They don’t always call the people who file reports right away.”
“Well, that’s something to look forward to, isn’t it?” Rebecca remained wide-eyed and happy. “It’s too bad you’re going to miss the video showcase. I’ve heard it’s something to behold. I’m looking forward to seeing it myself.”
“I thought you hated this whole thing,” Rowan said.
“Who said that?”
“You did.”
“I didn’t say I hated it,” Rebecca clarified. “I said that I wanted more. I also think I was feeling a bit sorry for myself when I said that. I hate feeling sorry for myself. It’s not productive, so why waste time?”
“That’s what I always say.” Rowan found Rebecca’s personality shift bizarre, but she didn’t feel comfortable enough with the woman to call her on it. “You must be excited about the awards ceremony. That’s coming up soon. People think you have a real shot at winning?”
“Really? Are they saying that?” Rebecca’s smile hinted at smarm rather than charm. “I don’t think I have a shot. Callisto is the sentimental favorite. She’ll definitely win. Plus, now she’s missing, that will increase the vote for her.”
“But … aren’t the votes already tallied?”
“No, people have until an hour before the ceremony,” Rebecca explained. “Everything is tallied electronically and all the votes are placed online. Even though Callisto ticked off a lot of the voting block, now that she’s missing she’ll probably see a run of votes toward the end. It’s not really fair, but what can you do?”
“Right. Um … are you upset? I’m sorry if you are. I’m sure the award means a lot.”
“It generally means you get a shot at some better roles, but I can’t begrudge Callisto one last award, can I?”
“I guess not.” Rowan was growing increasingly uncomfortable with Rebecca’s attitude. The fact that she referred to the award as “Callisto’s last opportunity” was jarring. “Well, here comes Quinn. It was nice talking to you … and thanks for the dinner invitation.”
“Don’t mention it.” Rebecca smiled happily at Quinn as he slid around her to take his seat. “You’re Quinn, right?”
Quinn nodded. “I am. You’re Rebecca. Rowan has told me a lot about you.”
“Isn’t she sweet?” Rebecca offered up a giddy wave before turning on her heel. “I’ll see you guys later. Everyone is waiting for me to join them. Have a good night.”
Quinn waited until he was sure Rebecca was out of earshot to speak. “She seems … nice.”
“Try manic,” Rowan corrected. “She seemed manic to me. She was like a completely different person.”
“Maybe she’s putting on an act like everyone else. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary with this crowd.”
Rowan knew he spoke the truth and yet something else felt off. “I don’t know what to think. She did give me one tidbit to consider, though.” Rowan related the voting rules to Quinn. “So, basically, Callisto could still win thanks to being missing.”
“Do you think she would hide just to win?”
Rowan nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely.”
“But what about the omen?”
Rowan’s smile slipped. “Huh. I didn’t think of that.”
“Yeah. We have more than one thing to consider here. Still, it’s interesting to think about. Good job.”
Rowan smiled at the accolades. “Let’s eat and get out of here. I’m sick of hanging around these people.”
Quinn was more than happy to embark on a quiet evening. “Start shoveling it in, sweetheart. I can be finished in twenty minutes.”
“Ah, a race, is it?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re on. I’m going to dominate you.”
Quinn’s smile was quick and easy. “Ah, well, there’s something to consider.”
14
Fourteen
Quinn held Rowan’s hand as they made their way from the dining hall, both of them heaving out a sigh when they escaped through the doorway. Instead of heading straight to Rowan’s room, Quinn led her to the deck so they could enjoy a bit of fresh air before retiring for the night.
“What are you thinking?”
Rowan stared out at the ocean, her skin glistening due to the rampant humidity. The air was thick, another storm clearly nearing. It would be both a blessing and a curse given the reactions of the horror movie crowd.
“I’m thinking that there’s something off about Rebecca,” Rowan admitted, catching Quinn off guard. He thought she needed to get the guilt she felt about Callisto going missing off her chest. Apparently he was wrong.
“That’s what you’re thinking about?”
Rowan bobbed her head.
“You never cease to amaze me, Ro.” Quinn slid behind her, wrapping his arms around her slim waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder. Despite the heat, she felt good pressed against him, like she belonged there. “I thought maybe you were feeling guilty about Callisto.”
“I considered it, but I’m not sure what else we could’ve done so it seems like a waste of time.”
Quinn’s eyebrow winged up. “I believe that’s exactly what I told you earlier today.”
“Yes, but I needed to get to a point where I could tell myself that for me to believe.”
“Ah. Are you saying you’re an irrational woman after all? I’m crushed.”
“Ha, ha.” Rowan playfully knocked her elbow into his stomach, causing him
to choke out a laugh as he rocked from side to side. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but I can’t help feeling guilty. I’ll always wonder if I could’ve done something to save her.”
“Yeah? I’m wavering on whether or not she’s dead,” Quinn admitted, causing Rowan’s heart to skip a beat.
“What?” She was breathless as the thunder began rolling, goosebumps popping up on her arms.
Quinn ran his hands up and down Rowan’s arms to ward off the cold, internally cursing himself that he’d probably gotten her hopes up when it was an offhand comment. “Well, I should clarify that,” he hedged. “I think there’s a chance she’s alive. It’s something I didn’t believe two hours ago, but now I can think of a scenario or two where she could be alive.”
“Because of what Rebecca said about the votes?”
“Yes.” Quinn answered without hesitation. “It’s exactly because of what Rebecca said about the votes. I’ve never heard of an awards system where you’re allowed to vote – and apparently online – right up until the event. I thought the votes were already tallied.”
“This isn’t a real awards ceremony, though,” Rowan pointed out, pursing her lips when she felt Quinn’s eyes on her profile. “Don’t get all high and mighty. I know what you’re thinking. You never thought the horror awards were a real thing. I get it.”
“That’s not what I was thinking.”
“It is so.” Rowan kept one hand resting on top of Quinn’s against her abdomen as she haphazardly scratched her cheek with the other. “It’s okay. I know I was naïve about the actors and industry. I get it. For the record, though, I never thought the Indie Horror Awards were anything akin to the Oscars or anything.”
Pity stirred in Quinn’s chest. “Ro, that’s not what I was thinking.”
“No?” Rowan was genuinely curious. “What were you thinking?”
“That I’m truly sorry this has been tarnished for you. I didn’t even know you liked horror movies and now it seems as if they’ve been sort of ripped away from you before we could enjoy them.”
“You don’t like horror movies so how could you enjoy them?”
“I don’t dislike some horror movies,” Quinn corrected. “The types of horror movies they’re glorifying here are never going to be my thing. They’re your thing, though, and you’re my thing so I would’ve been perfectly happy spending a lazy Sunday afternoon watching them with you.”
“Really?” The simple admission made Rowan unbelievably happy. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the perfect man?”
“No, because it’s not true. No one is perfect.”
“I’m starting to think that you might be.”
Quinn grinned before kissing the tip of her nose. “I’m going to keep letting you think that because it bodes well for me.”
“It does indeed.” Rowan rested her head back against his shoulder. “Go back to what you were saying about Callisto. Do you honestly think she could be hiding to garner more votes?”
“I think it’s a possibility,” Quinn replied. “I only talked to her very briefly, but it seems like something she would do. In fact … .” Quinn narrowed his eyes as he focused on two figures sitting on loungers about thirty feet away. It was dark, but the deck lights allowed for some illumination and Quinn recognized Phil and Brimstone with minimal effort. “Come on.”
Quinn tugged Rowan after him, keeping his eyes on the two men to see if they would lower their voices or act suspicious when they knew security was heading their way. Neither one of them so much as glanced up when Quinn and Rowan stopped in front of them.
“I think you’re full of crap,” Phil said, a fruity drink with an umbrella clutched in his hand. “There is no way that Halloween Sharks would kill it at the box office.”
Quinn pulled up short, confused by the conversation.
“Just picture that Halloween score and scary houses with sharks popping up out of the corners,” Brimstone argued. “I think it’s a potential sleeper hit.”
“I think you’re a crackhead,” Phil argued. “I do think the shark market is primed for a rebound, though. The Sharknado movies were a big hit and burned out fast. Now would be the time to tip that market on its ear.”
“How about A Sharkmare on Elm Street?” Brimstone suggested. “Evil sharks invade people’s dreams and if you’re eaten by a shark in a dream, you die. That would allow for a lot of nudity and scantily clad women.”
“You had me at nudity.” Phil beamed. “What about sharks in space? We could do something reminiscent of Alien but with astronauts finding mutant sharks on a distant planet.”
Brimstone slapped his hand against the chair’s arm, thrilled. “That’s a great idea.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Quinn asked, his agitation getting the better of him.
Rowan couldn’t stop herself from joining the conversation. “I think you guys should do lava sharks,” she suggested. “They travel through the lava vents underneath the Earth’s crust and thanks to an ecological disaster, they start popping up through the ground in various places … like Disney World.”
Phil’s mouth dropped open as he stared, agog. He and Brimstone began speaking at the same time. “I thought of it first!”
Quinn touched the tip of his tongue to his top lip as he watched the laughing trio, his attention splitting in several different directions. On one hand, he wanted to talk to Phil and Brimstone and get their take on the Callisto situation so this drunken shark talk was beyond annoying. On the other, Rowan got so excited about her lava shark idea that her face flushed with color despite the darkness and she was absolutely adorable.
It was a tough call.
“Yeah, you’re a geek.” Quinn poked Rowan’s side, amused. “As for you two, I have a few questions if you have several minutes to spare.”
Brimstone sobered a bit as Phil kept cackling. “What’s on your mind?”
Quinn sat on the lounge chair across from Brimstone, putting his hand on Rowan’s hip and urging her to sit in front of him as he got comfortable. He didn’t care if it was unprofessional. He wanted her close because he was desperate to keep her safe. Okay, he was also sending a message because he didn’t like the way Brimstone perked up when he saw Rowan, but he intended to keep that internal admission to himself.
“What do you guys know about Callisto Collins?” Quinn decided to hop straight into the questions rather than waste time. The quicker they got through this, the quicker he could curl up next to Rowan and get some sleep. He believed they both needed it.
“I know she’s missing and you’ve been asking questions about her all day.” All traces of drunken revelry fled Brimstone’s face. “Is that the kind of thing you’re looking for?”
“Not really,” Quinn replied, not missing a beat. “We’ve heard conflicting things and I was hoping you might be able to add your weight to the argument.”
“I like how you say ‘add your weight’ instead of ‘clear things up.’” Brimstone’s grin was cheeky. “What do you want to know?”
“What are your general impressions of Callisto?”
“She’s basically exactly what you see,” Brimstone offered.
“She’s a total bitch,” Phil said.
Brimstone bobbed his head. “She’s that, too.”
“I figured that out myself,” Quinn noted, his fingers lightly brushing over the back of Rowan’s neck as he considered how to proceed. “I only got a chance to talk to her for a few minutes, but she seemed full of herself.”
“She also seemed desperate for relevance,” Rowan added, her voice low.
Brimstone shifted his gaze to Rowan, contemplative. “You read people well.”
“Oh, geez,” Quinn muttered under his breath.
Rowan ignored him. “I don’t think she was hard to read,” she said. “She came up to me because she thought I was taking photographs for a tabloid. She acted irritated, but when I informed her I worked for the cruise line all of that fake irritation faded aw
ay and I could tell that she was disappointed.”
“That sounds like Callisto,” Phil said. “Do you know that one time she called the paparazzi on herself because she was having lunch with a big director and when no one showed up she threatened to kill herself?”
Quinn stilled, surprised. “Is that true?” He looked to Brimstone for answers.
Brimstone held his hands up and shrugged. “I heard that story for the first time about six months ago. Is it true? I don’t know. Very little in this business is true. Gossip flies fast and furious, though. That’s not the type of story that would garner Callisto attention – not even in a negative way because it would actively work against her – so I tend to believe it.”
“Why would it work against her?” Rowan asked. “I thought all news coverage – even bad stories – was good because it drew attention to the work.”
“In theory, that’s true,” Brimstone confirmed. “In this particular case, it’s not true. Callisto is an actress. The last thing she wants to get around on low-budget projects is that she’s unreliable or might off herself. That would mean people don’t want to take a chance on her in case she commits suicide and they have to start over filming her parts. No one has that in their budget.”
“Oh.” Rowan tapped on her bottom lip. “I didn’t consider that.”
“Callisto is a piece of work,” Brimstone added. “I’ve never gotten along with her and there are times I wish I could be the lava shark where she’s concerned, but I also feel bad for her. She’s in her late thirties. That means she’s due to age out of the system. All she has left are mother roles and then retirement.”
Brimstone was matter-of-fact as he delivered the words, something that made Rowan feel sick to her stomach.
“That’s kind of harsh,” Rowan lamented.
“That’s the reality of the movie world,” Phil corrected. “No one wants an older leading lady. They want someone young and fresh. Speaking of fresh … I need another drink.” Phil looked as if he’d had more than enough to drink as he staggered to his feet and focused on Brimstone. “Are you coming?”
“I’ll be right behind you.” Brimstone waited until his boss was gone to continue talking. “He’s going to be hungover tomorrow and blame it on me. Just you wait.”
Stormy Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 3) Page 13
