“You seem to think you were prostituting your talent,” Brandon said.
“Wait a minute,” Felix said slowly. “Noah Street. I know that name…”
“Thanks a lot,” Ellery told Brandon.
Brandon’s smile was smug. “You’re welcome.”
“I thought you looked familiar. You were in all those Happy Halloween! You’re Dead movies!”
Ellery groaned, instantly reprising several highlights of his greatest role.
“Dude, those flicks are classic!”
“I thought it was Elliot Parker who played Noah,” Libby objected.
“He’s Elliot Parker. Look at him!”
Every pair of eyes in the pub seemed trained on Ellery.
“Oh-kay.” Ellery rose, grabbing his jacket. “It’s late, and I’ve got an early start tomorrow. Great rehearsal, everyone. See you next time.”
He fled, closing his ears to the laughter and clapping and calls for him to stay and have another drink.
* * * * *
“Ellery!”
A couple of yards down the street from the Salty Dog, Ellery stopped and looked back. To his surprise, Jack strode after him, his long shadow stretching like a hand across the cobblestones. His eyes gleamed, and his hair looked almost silver in the lamplight.
Ignoring his heart’s happy jump, Ellery shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, waiting until Jack caught up to him.
He was braced for, well, he wasn’t sure what. Anything from a pep talk to interrogation, but when Jack reached him, all he said was, “I thought I’d walk back with you to your car.”
Ellery shrugged. “Sure.” He gave Jack a sideways look. “This village is pretty dangerous at night.”
Jack made a sound that fell somewhere between laugh and snort. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
“Do they pay you big bucks?”
Jack laughed at the idea but said, “I’m not complaining.”
They headed in the direction of the Crow’s Nest, neither of them saying much at first.
The night air was moist—it was always damp by the sea—and ghostly mist rose from the cobblestones. Ellery was reminded of Nora’s warning to Brandon. To be honest, it had sounded more like a threat than a warning. He’d known Nora was bitterly disappointed over the historical society losing Skull House to Brandon, but her behavior that evening left him feeling uneasy.
“Your friend Abbott is a piece of work,” Jack observed finally.
Ellery groaned. “For the record, I was never a porn star.”
“I know that.” Jack sounded amused.
“I’m not sure everyone else does.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Maybe Jack had missed the predatory gleam in Sue Lewis’s gaze. Ellery hadn’t. He insisted, “They were slasher movies, that’s all.”
Jack said, “When we were looking at you as a possible suspect in Trevor’s murder, I went over your background thoroughly. I know about the Elliot Parker stage name. I can’t say I ever saw any of your films.”
“That’s a blessing for both of us.”
Jack laughed. A warm sound on a cold night. “They can’t be that bad.”
“Oh yes they can. They really can.”
Jack laughed again, and Ellery thought how much he liked the sound.
They continued down the narrow street, past tall buildings, some with high mansard roofs, some with gabled roofs, all seeming more shadow than substance in the moonlight. It seemed strange to think that a few of these structures would have been standing back when John Mansfield had first laid eyes on poor Ann Rathbone.
Ellery said, “Brandon was always a weird mix of arrogance and massive insecurity. We did have some good times together, though.”
“You had no idea he was moving to Pirate’s Cove?”
“No way.” He said curiously, “Did I look like I had any idea?”
“No,” Jack admitted.
“I found out this morning. I thought it would be months before he showed up, if he ever did. I still can’t understand it. He’s the last person who would willingly choose to live on an island, let alone on an island in a dilapidated mansion, miles from the nearest town. He’s a born and bred New Yorker. He loved the city. I can’t imagine him living anywhere else.”
“People change.”
“True.” Ellery had certainly changed. There had been a time when it would have been as unthinkable for him to move to a small island as he believed it was for Brandon.
They turned onto Main Street, and the harbor was before them: the starlit glitter of black water, the vague outline of boats, the ghostly rustle of sails and pennants. The moon hung in the sky like a crooked scythe.
“It’s hard to keep secrets in a small town,” Jack said.
“I don’t know. For all the gossip, I sometimes get the feeling everyone in the village knows something I don’t.”
“Sure, when it comes to the small stuff…” Jack did not finish the thought, and Ellery wondered if he had been thinking aloud.
By then they had reached the parking area behind the Crow’s Nest. Ellery’s navy VW looked like a large black snail in the wan moonlight.
“Have you had the dashboard wiring checked out yet?” Jack asked. Not for the first time.
“I haven’t had a chance.” Ellery jingled his keys in his pocket. “It seems to be working okay again.”
Jack opened his mouth, and to forestall a lecture, Ellery said, “Well, thanks for the company.”
“Yeah.” Jack sounded absent. His face was unreadable in the uncertain light. He said, “Ellery, would you—”
At the same moment, Ellery said, “Okay, then—”
They both stopped.
“Sorry,” Jack said. “Go ahead.”
Belatedly, Ellery realized what was happening. Excitement bloomed in his chest. He said quickly, “No, I was just… What were you saying?”
“Would you like to have dinner one night?” Jack sounded brusque. Maybe that was how he handled being nervous? Although it was hard to picture Jack nervous about anything, let alone grabbing a meal together.
And yet Ellery also felt unexpectedly nervous as he answered, “Sure. When?”
“I’d suggest Saturday night, but you’ve got the play. How about Wednesday?”
“Wednesday would be great.” Sudden doubt assailed Ellery. Was Jack asking him out on a date, or was this just the p.m. equivalent of their lunchtime get-togethers? He said, “Is this a date or…” He added hastily, “Either is fine, of course.”
“A date.” Jack seemed to clip the words off.
“Really?” Ellery corrected, “I mean, yes. That sounds great!”
“Okay. Well.” Jack was still brisk, still businesslike, but now Ellery was pretty sure that was just Jack feeling self-conscious. He knew because he felt self-conscious.
“I’ll be in touch.” Jack stepped back and nodded good night.
“Night,” Ellery said.
“Good night.” Jack added, in afterthought, “Maybe I should wait to see if your car starts.”
Ellery chuckled, climbed into the VW, and the engine roared instantly to life just as though a flooded carburetor was something that only happened to other cars.