The Once and Future Scream Queen: Marlene Ambrosia Mysteries Read online

  “You didn’t see a car yesterday,” Marlene said. “You saw Gwen’s car that morning. When you drove by to park across the street.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “You slipped up too.” Marlene shook her head. How could she have forgotten about this? “That morning, when you called me, you actually slipped. I remember you pointed out that I wasn’t at my office yet, or something to that effect.”

  He nodded crazily. “I had a lot going on that morning.”

  “Why?” Marlene asked. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but the longer she kept him talking, the better. Maybe she could get him to see reason. Or maybe somebody else would stop by.

  “Why?” she asked again.

  “Just like everybody else, she didn’t think twice about me. Just like my boss, my girlfriend, all my friends who are always too busy to get together. Nobody cares, Marlene. Nobody cares anymore.”

  “Come on, Bob. Why’d you do it?”

  His grip on the gun was tight. His knuckles whitened. “She didn’t read the screenplay.”

  Marlene was incredulous. It was no big slight. “That must have made you mad.”

  “I was already mad,” Bob said. “About everything that had gone wrong for me.”

  His words were like bullets. Each one slugged her.

  Bob’s run of bad luck had stemmed from her counsel.

  Marlene, you were the cause of this.

  She thought about the mechanics of that morning. Gwen had gotten to the office first, probably. Bob had parked just past the laundromat, where he always did. There were already fifteen, maybe twenty cars parked there in the big lot so Mrs. Lee wouldn’t have noticed him. He’d parked there, nowhere near Marlene’s office, and waited.

  “Did you come that morning to hurt me?” Marlene asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I was just … I couldn’t even think straight.”

  Marlene silently thanked Cromwell for making her late that morning. He couldn’t help her now though.

  And by being late to the office, Bob had run into Gwen instead of her.

  Bob said, “I lost my job. I lost my girlfriend. I had no career prospects. I was hanging on by a thread. My health is failing. They can’t get my diabetes under control. I have nothing left, no one to turn to. So when I saw Gwen that morning, I thought maybe that was my thread. It was a million to one shot, but it was the only shot I had. So I walked over and asked her if she’d read the screenplay. And she apologized. She couldn’t get past page five. PAGE FIVE, MARLENE!”

  “Everyone’s tastes are different,” Marlene said. “And who was Gwen to talk? She played the bimbo in about twenty cheap slasher movies.”

  But Bob wasn’t listening to her. “When she saw how angry I was, she tried to play it off. Gwen promised to try it again and offer me feedback. And I lost it. Just lost it.”

  He started to cry.

  “Bob, you’re under tremendous stress right now.”

  “That just means what I did is manslaughter as opposed to murder. Doesn’t help a whole lot.”

  “So you’re going to shoot me?”

  “You’re the only one in the world that suspects me right now. I’ll shoot you and make it look a robbery or something. Then I’ll leave town. Nobody will come looking for me. The cops aren’t thinking about me at all.”

  “Bob, just think about what you’re saying. I want to help you.”

  “Help me?” He laughed ferociously. “None of your advice helped. It’s all your fault my life is hell right now.”

  Marlene, you were the cause of this.

  “You can’t do this, Bob. You can’t kill me.”

  “I killed Gwen. And that was with a knife! The same one I was thinking about using on you and then on myself.”

  “Bob.”

  He raised the gun. He was really crying now. “I’m sorry, Marlene.”

  She acted without thinking. Marlene flicked her wrist toward him and some invisible force pushed Bob backward. As he toppled, the bullet tore through the ceiling. If she’d hesitated one more half-second, that bullet would have been lodged in her brain.

  Marlene tried to use the same wrist-flick to tear the gun out of his hands, but nothing happened. She still had much to learn of her powers. Thankfully, Bob was too stunned for a moment by what had just happened to react quickly enough.

  “What did you …”

  Marlene jumped backward and swiped her phone off the desk. There was another gunshot, but she had rolled out of the way, behind the wall. Picturing the sword in her mind, Marlene’s phone morphed into Excalibur.

  “Marlene!” Bob yelled.

  She held the bright, powerful sword in front of her and in that crazy moment, felt no fear. She knew, somehow, the sword would protect her. An ancient, powerful energy flowed through it.

  Marlene stepped into the doorway.

  “What the hell is that?” Bob yelled.

  The sword was long and glowed in her hands. Marlene didn’t answer him. Bob’s anger overcame his shock, and he pulled the trigger.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Three times.

  But the bullets didn’t hit her. They didn’t seem to hit anything. She pointed Excalibur at him.

  “PUT THE GUN DOWN!” she roared.

  She spoke in a voice not her own. Not just her own. She spoke with an ancient force that extended back fifteen hundred years and which she drew from her ancestor. Bob Balin was already utterly terrified of the sword, and that would have been enough by itself to make him do Marlene’s bidding. But when she spoke with this new, terrifying air of authority, he dropped the gun and did a backwards crabwalk against the wall and cowered.

  Thirty-One

  Marlene waited in her car in front of the police station.

  “You did better than I expected.”

  Marlene screamed at the top of her lungs as the Merlin appeared in her passenger seat. He was in the same old robes as before, his beard down to his lap.

  “You have to stop sneaking up on me.”

  “You should have sensed me coming.” He shook his head. “And rule thirty-four, the Merlin never shows fear.”

  “Your rules suck, pardon my French. And what I meant was, you need to stop underestimating me and paying me back-handed compliments. Where have you been?”

  “Elsewhere, my dear.”

  “You know, I could have used your help a lot in the last week.”

  “It’s important for the Merlin to find their own way.”

  “But if I had failed?”

  He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Then you would have failed. And that would be that.”

  She stared at him, incredulous. “But you told me it was of the utmost importance that Artie become a great leader.”

  “Indeed.” He nodded sagely and stroked his beard. “Indeed, it is. But there will be more Arthurs and more Merlins. History always repeats itself. There is no guarantee this Arthur will become a great man.”

  “He already is a great man.” Marlene looked back at the police station and felt something she’d never felt in her life. “He doesn’t need to be elected to office for that to be true.”

  She felt the Merlin’s eyes boring into her.

  “You cannot have feelings for that man.”

  She had to be honest with herself. “Too late.”

  Merlin nodded and looked out the windshield too. “Yes. He is a great man. He would make anyone a great husband. I can understand the appeal.”

  “I was wrong about him. My whole life I thought he was …”

  “Yes.” Merlin stroked his beard some more and grew thoughtful. “Yes, we often don’t know people until many years later. Sometimes after it is too late.”

  “Like Nimue?” she asked. “Or Morgana, or whatever her name is?”

  Merlin pursed his lips. “Like all of them. I was wrong. The Merlin is great at many things, but like everyone else he has a fatal flaw.”

  “Or she.”

  “Or
she.” He laughed. “I’m starting to get comfortable with the idea you’re a woman.”

  “Well, you better get used to it.”

  “You know, I was thinking. In your time, there are procedures that could—”

  “No! I’m a woman.” She smiled. “Hear me roar.”

  He smiled. “That’s the spirit.”

  Marlene rested her head against the car seat. “Now what?”

  “That is for you to figure out,” Merlin said. “But be prepared. Dark times lie ahead. You will face more difficult challenges than ever before.”

  “He said ominously.” Marlene shook her head.

  “I believe in you, Marlene.”

  “Even though I’m a woman?”

  His old face crinkled into a smile. “Even though.”

  “And I’ll take your help any time. Even though you’re a man.”

  “I will return.” Merlin was beginning to fade away again. “But heed my words, Marlene. You and Arthur cannot consummate your relationship. It will doom you both.”

  As Merlin disappeared, Arthur stepped out of the police station. Beaming his thousand-watt smile, the morning sun lit him up and he walked like a god toward her car.

  Thirty-Two

  Marlene couldn’t find a parking spot. The lot was full and parked cars stretched nearly a half mile in each direction. Finally she gave up and took the nearest one and walked.

  Diamond Lake looked beautiful. The water had never seemed so clean. And to think just one month ago, it had been totally polluted. But right now it looked pure enough to drink.

  Marlene made her way through the crowd, earning the stares of a lot of people as she went. The triathletes were congregating along the beach further south. Marlene saw her sister, Ganny, in the middle of the crowd. She wore her full body swim gear, very much looking like an Olympian. Ganny didn’t see Marlene, though. Her sister was busy chatting up two, no three, of the guys right around her.

  Marlene decided not to cramp her style.

  Instead, she wended her way through the athletes till she found Artie. He was wearing a pair of swim trunks and nothing else. She couldn’t help but be impressed by his physique. She also couldn’t help but notice the scars than ran along his right side or the ones that criss-crossed his back.

  Jill Lauer’s interview of Artie had turned things around. Though he’d just been cleared of the murder, word had gotten around that he’d fathered a child with Gwen O’Vear. People could forgive a lot of things, but a deadbeat dad wasn’t one of them. Artie’s only saving grace was he had no knowledge of the child. Gwen had gone away for a year to have the child before giving him up for adoption. The interview had humanized him, endearing him once more with the people.

  “Hey Marlene,” Artie said. This time she offered her hand, but instead he gave her a hug. It was yet another awkward moment between them.

  “You look great,” Marlene said, instantly regretting it. Why had she said that?

  “Oh, I’m a shadow of my former self.” He shook his head. “In just a year I’ve gotten so out of shape.”

  There was absolutely nothing wrong with that man’s body. Absolutely nothing at all.

  He smiled. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t sink.”

  “Well,” she said. “I’ll be out there in the pontoon. If I see you drowning, I’ll toss you a life preserver.”

  “I think you already did, Marlene.” He laughed. “Do you remember Lance?”

  Marlene looked to Artie’s right and saw the other man there. She hadn’t recognized him in his speedo and swim cap. He was in as good a shape as Artie and clearly very proud of his body.

  “Marlene! Long time!” He came in for a hug and Marlene was a little skeeved out hugging a man she hardly knew who was just wearing a speedo.

  “Yes, it has been.” She broke the hug as quickly as she could. “Good luck today, both of you.”

  Artie put his arm around Lance’s shoulders. “Lance here is in, Marlene. He’s going to fund the campaign. Isn’t that great?”

  Marlene was a little sick to her stomach all of a sudden. “Yes, that’s wonderful. Very generous of you.”

  “Anything for my best friend,” Lance said.

  They made small talk for a few minutes, then Marlene headed for the dock. She’d volunteered this year to man the rescue pontoons. If swimmers got into trouble, they could latch on for help. It would disqualify them from the triathlon. But disqualified was better than dead.

  Before she got to the dock, she saw the crowd split as the mayor’s luxury, designer SUV pulled in to the lot. The man himself climbed out at the same time as his retinue. Two bodyguards with the Secret Service postures and sunglasses stood vigil while the mayor got out.

  “Mr. Mayor. Do you have a minute?” Marlene asked politely.

  Mal A. Gant turned on his fake smile. “Marlene! Great to see you!”

  The reporters that had shown up now turned from the burgeoning crowd and hurried over to the mayor hoping for a quote.

  “I’ll be with you in a few minutes,” the mayor said. “First, I’d like to address the media.”

  “Of course,” Marlene said.

  Of course.

  As she watched Mal A. Gant, she had to admit begrudgingly that he was very smooth. He was so polished, the words flowed out of him like they were both genuine and spontaneous. And maybe they were. But Marlene knew that the mayor had honed his rhetoric over the years and had it down to a science.

  Now that Artie had been exonerated and the public had been reminded of his service record courtesy of Jill’s article, he was a bona fide contender. Mal A. Gant was scrambling all his jets, for the first time in many years opening the Spring Triathlon.

  “Thank you all for coming.” His voice boomed in front of the dock. That year’s Triathlon t-shirt was stretched tightly across his chest. It was intentionally a size too small so Gant could show off his admittedly impressive physique. It was a subtle suggestion to the people that he might have been in his fifties, but he was still full of vim and vigor.

  “We come together today for a great event! It amazes me this is the thirtieth anniversary of the Medboro Triathlon, where local athletes come to compete in our great town. And to think I’ve had the honor of serving the community for almost as long …” He shook his head, then gave an aw shucks grin when the crowd started clapping.

  He went on. “Through our tireless remediation efforts, we were able to clean Diamond Lake up in unprecedented time, and I promise you I’ll work with state lawmakers to ensure the factories up north never do this to our great town again.”

  Of course he would deflect all blame. But then again, Marlene thought, it wasn’t really his fault the lake had been polluted. That had been the work of the Dark One, who had just been sent away to a mental hospital. He’d been ruled not guilty by reason of insanity, not being able to provide the court with a name or a personal history that made rational sense to anyone. At least that was one less thing she didn’t have to think about.

  For now. He’d probably get out some day.

  When the mayor was done stumping, the reporters threw a bunch of softball questions at him. Then Jill brought up Artie’s arrest and subsequent release.

  “I’ll tell you what. We’ve got a great police force in this town. They worked tirelessly on this case and all cases. While Artie was ultimately exonerated, at the time of the arrest, based on the information in their possession, they believed him to be their prime suspect. It’s easy to play Monday morning quarterback, but at the end of the day the police force has an impossible job and they handle it without complaint and with a lot of grace. We should be thanking them for their great service over the years and continue to fully support them in the future.”

  The mayor knew how to deliver a message. Marlene also liked how he kept all the blame for the wrongful arrest off of himself. How so casually, he’d used the words “they” and “their” as if the mayor had had nothing to do with it.

  “Now, I know I’ve b
een wishy-washy about this November.”

  Marlene’s ears perked up.

  The mayor paused dramatically and smiled. “But I’ve decided to run for mayor again. This will be the last time. I feel there’s a lot of work left to do, like protecting the environment of Medboro, and I feel I’m the right man for the job. Now, without further ado, I want to wish the triathletes luck. Let’s have a great race.”

  There were cheers. Marlene couldn’t believe how many people applauded the mayor. His administration had only gotten more corrupt, the schools were a mess, the fire department …

  The mayor had finished and was going to walk past her without stopping.

  “Mr. Mayor.” She smiled. “Did you have a minute?”

  “Of course.” He pretended like she hadn’t already asked to speak to him.

  He motioned her out onto the long dock where they could speak out of earshot.

  “Marlene.” All smiles. Charm oozing. “Marlene. I never got to properly thank you for bringing Bob Balin to justice.”

  Next thing she knew, he was hugging her. This was obviously a play for the cameras that were no doubt capturing every moment. After the awkward embrace, he gave his back to the reporters. Maybe he was afraid somebody would be able to read his lips.

  “Mr. Mayor,” Marlene said. “Please don’t hug me ever again.”

  “Oh, don’t be like that.” He beamed another smile. “We don’t have to be enemies.”

  “I think maybe we do.” She folded her arms. “I helped Artie when you asked me not to.”

  “Well, come on, Marlene. I can hardly blame you for that since, as it turns out, Artie didn’t kill Gwen.”

  “You steered Bors the way you wanted him to go.”

  “Excuse me?” He was still jovial, pretending they were friends in case the crowd was watching closely. He was tall and so wide that Marlene couldn’t see if they were.

  “Let’s drop the charade,” Marlene said.

  He would not stop smiling. It was infuriating. “Now, Marlene. You’re just getting into politics. So you’ve got a lot to learn. Me? I’ve been doing this my whole life.”