She added very reluctantly, “I guess I should tell you—I was attacked at DJ’s estate this evening.”
“What?”
“Attacked?”
It was like having a stereophonic parental explosion. Her cousins’ voices ran together, topping each other in outrage.
“You didn’t tell us?”
“And you came here anyway?”
“Was it DJ who attacked you?”
“I’m not sure,” Barrie said in a small voice. “But...it was a vampire.”
Rhiannon’s gasp chilled Barrie’s blood.
“A vampire would have the strength to spear a were and lift him up to hang him on that fireplace,” Rhiannon said. “It makes sense.”
“And he knows the scene from the movie. DJ, of all people,” Sailor said, incensed. “Did he seem guilty? When you saw him this afternoon?”
Barrie paused to think about that. “He seemed like...not like anyone I’ve ever met. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking...or anything about him, really.”
“Vampire,” Rhiannon said.
“Actor,” Sailor said darkly.
“Whatever this is, it’s gone far enough,” Rhiannon said. “Barrie, you can’t just go off investigating on your own like this. People and Others are being killed, and it looks to me as if you were meant to find Branson’s body the way you did. A warning.”
“I agree,” Sailor said. “Someone knows you know things they don’t want you to know.”
“But if I am being warned, then I’m getting close,” Barrie said. Her cousins drew themselves up as if they were about to kill her, and she added quickly, “Yes, all right. I’m not going to do anything alone again. But if that was a warning, then someone is going to a lot of trouble that they wouldn’t be going to unless I’m close to the truth.”
“What truth is that?” Rhiannon asked.
“That Johnny Love was murdered on the set of Otherworld, and the killer is willing to kill anyone who knows about it to keep that secret, and maybe other secrets, from coming out. Anyone, including Mayo and Tiger and Branson.”
Her cousins were silent for a moment, processing that.
“Well, what did DJ tell you?” Sailor demanded.
Barrie paced in the moonlight, frustrated. “I don’t know, that’s the problem. He talks in more riddles than the Mad Hatter. Except that—he did say Johnny and Branson were talking about using the movie to break the silence and make the existence of Others generally known.”
Her cousins stared at her. “That’s pretty big,” Sailor said.
“You mean, you think Johnny’s death—and Branson’s—were political?” Rhiannon asked.
Barrie considered this. Do I think it’s political?
She was shaking her head before she even had a conscious thought. “No. I think it’s personal. It feels personal.”
“Why?” Rhiannon said, and her voice was soft, supportive and encouraging.
Barrie frowned, and let herself answer again without thinking. “Because everything about Johnny Love was personal. I don’t know about Branson. But Johnny? People had personal reactions to him, not political ones. People got obsessed with him, for heaven’s sake. He made people feel, not think.” She pounded her fist on the pillar of a trellis. “Johnny is the key. He’s the one I need to talk to.”
And then she lifted her head. “Johnny’s the one I need to talk to,” she repeated dazedly.
She stood straight. “Merlin!”
Chapter 17
Barrie ran straight through the main house to Merlin’s room and skidded to a stop on the polished hardwood floor of the back hall, then reached out to pound on the door. It wasn’t very polite, but things had progressed far beyond polite. She was sure Merlin would understand.
Sailor and Rhiannon were at her heels almost instantly, mystified.
Merlin opened the door, and his kind face lit up when he saw the cousins gathered in the hall.
“My, my, all three of you! To what do I owe this happy...” Then he frowned, looking more closely at them. “But you don’t look happy. Is something wrong?”
Barrie could barely speak; her words were tripping over each other. “Merlin, I know you weren’t able to find Johnny Love in the afterworld. But is there any chance of reaching him if we tried to call him? Call him to come here?”
“You mean a séance?” Sailor asked, startled.
“A summoning,” Merlin corrected her gently.
Barrie had never done either before, and she didn’t care what it was called as long as there was a chance it might work. “Either. Both. Whatever might get us in touch with Johnny. I think it’s the only way we’re ever going to get to the truth.”
Merlin’s sky-blue eyes clouded as he considered. “Of course, my dear. It may not be the only way, but it is almost certainly the most direct way.” He paced, thinking. “For this, I think we need the library.