Her husband ignored the last sentence. "Tommy Newton," he repeated in disgust, "the guy who directed your last movie, was in love with Tony Austin?" When Emily nodded, he shook his head and said, "That business you've been in since you were a child reminds me of a human cesspool."
"Sometimes it is," Emily said with a laugh, "but most of the time it isn't—it's just business—just a lot of hardworking people living and working together for four or five months, then going their own way, meeting again someday on another film."
"It can't be all bad," he relented, "because you've lived in it for years, and you're straighter and sweeter than any woman I've ever known." Reverting to their earlier topic, he said thoughtfully, "It's amazing all that stuff with you and Tony and Diana and Rachel didn't come out during the trial."
Emily shrugged. "The police didn't look very far for other suspects or other motives. You see, they knew Zack put the bullets that killed Rachel into that gun. We all knew it. Besides the fact that he'd threatened to kill her the night before and that he had enormous emotional and financial reasons to kill her, he was also the only one of us with enough guts to do it."
"He may have had guts, but he had to have been arrogant as hell to think he could actually get away with it."
"He was definitely that," Emily agreed, but her smile was sentimental and her voice was threaded with admiration. "Zack was like … like an irresistible force, like the wind coming from so many directions, with so many sides, you never knew which one he was going to show to you. He could be incredibly witty or warm, gallant and sweet, or completely suave and sophisticated."
"He sounds like a damned paragon."
"He could also be brutal, cold, and heartless."
"On second thought," Dick said half-seriously, "he sounds like a multiple personality."
"He was complex," Emily admitted. "And private. He did as he pleased when he pleased, and he didn't give a damn what anybody thought of him. He made a lot of enemies because of that, but even the people who detested him were in awe of him. He didn't care about being hated, and he didn't care about being admired either. As near as anyone could tell, the only thing he cared about was his work. He didn't seem to need people … I mean, he didn't like anyone to get too close, except me. I was probably closer to him than almost anyone."
"Don't tell me he was in love with you. I couldn't stand another triangle."
Emily gave a shout of laughter. "I was a mere child to him, which is why he let me get as close as he did. He used to talk to me about things I doubt he talked to Rachel about."
"What sort of things."
"I don't know—little things, like the fact that he loved astronomy. One night, when we were shooting on location on a ranch near Dallas, he sat outside pointing out the stars to me and naming them and telling me stories about how the constellations got their names. Rachel came out and asked what we were doing, and when I told her, she was dumbfounded that Zack was interested in astronomy or that he knew anything about it."
"Given all that, how do you explain the fact that he made a threatening call to your father tonight?"
She swung her legs over the side of the chaise. "I think it was a crank and my father was mistaken," she said. "My father also said he thought he saw someone who looked like Zack hanging around across the street from his apartment last night."
Her husband's concerned frown faded to a look of irritated comprehension. "By any chance was your father drunk when he called you?"
"I … I couldn't tell. Maybe. Don't be too hard on him," she said, putting her hand on his arm, "he's lonely with me gone. I was his whole life, and then I deserted him to marry you."
"You didn't 'desert' him! You're his daughter, not his wife."
She put her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "I know that, and so does he." As they headed inside, she added, "A few minutes ago, you congratulated me on staying so sweet and straight after all my years in the business. Try to remember that the only reason I managed to become what I am is because of his vigilance. He sacrificed his own life for me."
Her husband kissed her forehead. "I know."
Chapter 56
By the time Julie pulled into her driveway, it was midnight, and she'd spent all seven of the hours since leaving Zack's grandmother fighting a mental battle against the insidious doubt and confusion that had haunted her at that house. She'd won her battle and now that she was home, she felt much better. She opened the front door, turned on the living room lights, and looked at the cheerful, cozy room. Here, the idea that Zack was insane seemed so ludicrous that she was angry with herself for ever entertaining the notion. In this very room, she remembered as she hung her coat in the front closet, Matt and Meredith Farrell had spent a wonderful evening with her and bade her good luck and good-bye. Matthew Farrell, she realized, would have laughed in Mrs. Stanhope's face for suggesting Zack was insane, and that was exactly what she herself should have done!
Shaking her head in self-disgust, she walked into her bedroom, sat down on the bed, and took Zack's letter from the nightstand drawer. She reread every beautiful, loving word, and her shame for ever doubting him was as great as her sudden need to scrub away the traces of her journey to his home. Putting his letter aside, she pulled off her sweater, stepped out of her skirt, then she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
She washed her body and her hair as if they'd been contaminated by the malevolent atmosphere of that gloomy pile of rocks that Zack had once called home. There was no warmth there, not in the house nor the people who lived in it, she thought as she blew her hair dry and brushed it. If anyone was suffering from vicious delusions, it was his grandmother! And her butler! And Zack's brother, Alex!
Except, her mind argued, that his grandmother had actually seemed more despondent than vicious, at least toward the very end. And the butler had looked a little forlorn but absolutely certain of what he said. Why would they both lie about Zack's fight with Justin, Julie wondered. Shoving the question aside, Julie yanked the blow dryer's plug out of the wall, tightened the belt of her bathrobe, and walked into the living room. Maybe they only thought Justin and Zack had quarreled, she decided as she turned on the television set and turned it to CNN so she could watch the latest news.
But there was one fact she couldn't avoid, justify, or dispute: Zack had lied about the way Justin died.
"Sometimes it is," Emily said with a laugh, "but most of the time it isn't—it's just business—just a lot of hardworking people living and working together for four or five months, then going their own way, meeting again someday on another film."
"It can't be all bad," he relented, "because you've lived in it for years, and you're straighter and sweeter than any woman I've ever known." Reverting to their earlier topic, he said thoughtfully, "It's amazing all that stuff with you and Tony and Diana and Rachel didn't come out during the trial."
Emily shrugged. "The police didn't look very far for other suspects or other motives. You see, they knew Zack put the bullets that killed Rachel into that gun. We all knew it. Besides the fact that he'd threatened to kill her the night before and that he had enormous emotional and financial reasons to kill her, he was also the only one of us with enough guts to do it."
"He may have had guts, but he had to have been arrogant as hell to think he could actually get away with it."
"He was definitely that," Emily agreed, but her smile was sentimental and her voice was threaded with admiration. "Zack was like … like an irresistible force, like the wind coming from so many directions, with so many sides, you never knew which one he was going to show to you. He could be incredibly witty or warm, gallant and sweet, or completely suave and sophisticated."
"He sounds like a damned paragon."
"He could also be brutal, cold, and heartless."
"On second thought," Dick said half-seriously, "he sounds like a multiple personality."
"He was complex," Emily admitted. "And private. He did as he pleased when he pleased, and he didn't give a damn what anybody thought of him. He made a lot of enemies because of that, but even the people who detested him were in awe of him. He didn't care about being hated, and he didn't care about being admired either. As near as anyone could tell, the only thing he cared about was his work. He didn't seem to need people … I mean, he didn't like anyone to get too close, except me. I was probably closer to him than almost anyone."
"Don't tell me he was in love with you. I couldn't stand another triangle."
Emily gave a shout of laughter. "I was a mere child to him, which is why he let me get as close as he did. He used to talk to me about things I doubt he talked to Rachel about."
"What sort of things."
"I don't know—little things, like the fact that he loved astronomy. One night, when we were shooting on location on a ranch near Dallas, he sat outside pointing out the stars to me and naming them and telling me stories about how the constellations got their names. Rachel came out and asked what we were doing, and when I told her, she was dumbfounded that Zack was interested in astronomy or that he knew anything about it."
"Given all that, how do you explain the fact that he made a threatening call to your father tonight?"
She swung her legs over the side of the chaise. "I think it was a crank and my father was mistaken," she said. "My father also said he thought he saw someone who looked like Zack hanging around across the street from his apartment last night."
Her husband's concerned frown faded to a look of irritated comprehension. "By any chance was your father drunk when he called you?"
"I … I couldn't tell. Maybe. Don't be too hard on him," she said, putting her hand on his arm, "he's lonely with me gone. I was his whole life, and then I deserted him to marry you."
"You didn't 'desert' him! You're his daughter, not his wife."
She put her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "I know that, and so does he." As they headed inside, she added, "A few minutes ago, you congratulated me on staying so sweet and straight after all my years in the business. Try to remember that the only reason I managed to become what I am is because of his vigilance. He sacrificed his own life for me."
Her husband kissed her forehead. "I know."
Chapter 56
By the time Julie pulled into her driveway, it was midnight, and she'd spent all seven of the hours since leaving Zack's grandmother fighting a mental battle against the insidious doubt and confusion that had haunted her at that house. She'd won her battle and now that she was home, she felt much better. She opened the front door, turned on the living room lights, and looked at the cheerful, cozy room. Here, the idea that Zack was insane seemed so ludicrous that she was angry with herself for ever entertaining the notion. In this very room, she remembered as she hung her coat in the front closet, Matt and Meredith Farrell had spent a wonderful evening with her and bade her good luck and good-bye. Matthew Farrell, she realized, would have laughed in Mrs. Stanhope's face for suggesting Zack was insane, and that was exactly what she herself should have done!
Shaking her head in self-disgust, she walked into her bedroom, sat down on the bed, and took Zack's letter from the nightstand drawer. She reread every beautiful, loving word, and her shame for ever doubting him was as great as her sudden need to scrub away the traces of her journey to his home. Putting his letter aside, she pulled off her sweater, stepped out of her skirt, then she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
She washed her body and her hair as if they'd been contaminated by the malevolent atmosphere of that gloomy pile of rocks that Zack had once called home. There was no warmth there, not in the house nor the people who lived in it, she thought as she blew her hair dry and brushed it. If anyone was suffering from vicious delusions, it was his grandmother! And her butler! And Zack's brother, Alex!
Except, her mind argued, that his grandmother had actually seemed more despondent than vicious, at least toward the very end. And the butler had looked a little forlorn but absolutely certain of what he said. Why would they both lie about Zack's fight with Justin, Julie wondered. Shoving the question aside, Julie yanked the blow dryer's plug out of the wall, tightened the belt of her bathrobe, and walked into the living room. Maybe they only thought Justin and Zack had quarreled, she decided as she turned on the television set and turned it to CNN so she could watch the latest news.
But there was one fact she couldn't avoid, justify, or dispute: Zack had lied about the way Justin died.
