He could clearly remember her saying this with a dour look on her face that, in later years, was as permanent as her smile had once been.
He also remembered being dazzled by the film, but would now be hard-pressed to tell you what it was about. It was different, he knew that much. And he figured the poster on Reed’s wall was a way of saying, I’m different, too. I’m an independent.
Joanne would undoubtedly label Reed a pretentious piece of crap as well.
This all, of course, shot through Donovan’s mind like grease through a hot pipe as Reed escorted them into the office. Donovan was still reeling after that moment of darkness he’d encountered back on the soundstage. The blackness of Gunderson’s eyes haunted him, along with the feeling that-for just an instant-he had been staring at himself.
Where the hell had that come from?
Reed crossed to a refrigerator in the corner of the room and grabbed a can of Coke. He didn’t offer any to Waxman or Donovan.
“Look,” he said, popping the top. He was trying for nonchalance, but the undercurrent of nervousness Donovan had sensed in their previous encounters was still present. “I realize you gentlemen have a job to do, but I’m in the middle of a bitch of a shoot right now, so why don’t we cut past all the crap and get to the point?”
“You first,” Waxman said.
“I haven’t seen him, I don’t know where he is, and I don’t expect to hear from him anytime soon.” He took a sip of Coke, smiled at them. “Anything else you need to know?”
“We’re still waiting for you to cut past all the crap.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, I barely know the man. Met him, what-twice? And that was before he made the transition from annoying to homicidal. Marrying my sister doesn’t make him my best friend.”
“Uh-huh,” Waxman said, unimpressed. “You happen to watch TV last night or read the papers today?”
“Are you kidding? Who has time?”
“Get any calls from friends or relatives?”
“I told you. I’m in the middle of a shoot. That pretty much takes up every second I have. And you two aren’t helping much.”
“Then I guess you haven’t heard.”
“Heard what?”
Waxman looked at him. “Your brother-in-law is dead.”
Dead, Donovan thought, Rachel’s words drifting back to him. They told me you were dead.
He watched Reed, looking for a reaction to Sydney’s news. All at once Reed’s nervousness drained away. His whole body relaxed. He set his Coke on a desktop and sank into a leather executive’s chair. He didn’t have to say a thing to communicate exactly what he was feeling.
“You don’t seem very broken up about it,” Donovan said.
Reed looked at him. “Name me three people on this planet who would be.”
“Sara, for one.”
“Leave her out of this.”
“She’s smack in the middle of it, Tony. Whether you like it or not. Always has been. And I think it’s time you told us the truth.”
“About what?”
“Alex came to your house, didn’t he?”
“I already told-”
“Come on, Tony, we both know it’s true. Right after the crash. He sat in your living room watching CNN. And when they showed Sara in a coma, and me being rushed to the hospital, Alex turned to you-looked right at you-and said, ‘I’m gonna put that motherfucker away, and you’re gonna help me.’ Isn’t that how it went, Tony?”
Reed was trying hard not to show it, but every word Donovan said had hit home. Donovan couldn’t explain it, but he knew-he knew — that that was exactly how the scene had played out. In a corner of his mind he could see Gunderson sprawled on Reed’s living room sofa watching television while Reed paced nervously. He didn’t know where this image was coming from, but there it was.
“Well, Tony?”
“I want a lawyer,” Reed said.
“Christ on a cracker,” Waxman muttered.
“We don’t have time for lawyers,” Donovan said, feeling his adrenaline rise. “Just tell us where she is.”
Reed gave him a puzzled look. “Where who is?”
Donovan had had enough. Grabbing a handful of Reed’s shirt, he pulled him out of the chair, slammed him against the wall. The framed One From the Heart poster rattled, threatening to fall.
“Don’t fuck with me, Tony.” His head was starting to throb. “I’m very short on patience right now.”
Waxman moved toward them. “Easy, Jack. Take it easy.”
“Stay out of this, Sydney.” Donovan kept his eyes on Reed. “Where is she? Tell me now or you’ll be directing videos from a wheelchair.”
“Come on, man, I don’t even know who she is.”
Adrenaline buzzed through Donovan’s body, his head pounding now. He spun Reed around again and shoved him back into the leather chair. The force sent Reed toppling to the polished wood floor.
Donovan started toward him, but Waxman blocked his path. “That’s enough, Jack. Take a couple of deep breaths.”
“He knows. He’s hiding something.”
“He ain’t Nemo. And this isn’t gonna help.”
“You have any other suggestions?” Donovan pushed past Waxman and moved toward Reed again. “Your sister’s in a coma because of me, Tony. At least that’s what your buddy Alex thought. Maybe the two of you didn’t share a whole lotta burgers and beers, but Sara’s something you had in common.”
“Fuck you,” Reed said.
Donovan reached down, grabbed him again. “Where is she, you little turd?”
He was about to lift him up off the floor when Reed threw his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right!” he shouted. “I’ll tell you what I know!”
Donovan let him loose, backed off. Reed took a breath and climbed to his feet as they waited.
“Here it is, no bullshit: Alex did come to my house. And he did say something about you. But all he wanted from me was money. That’s all they ever wanted. He and Sara. I was their personal bank account, whether I liked it or not.”
“What about Jessie?”
“I swear on my sister’s life I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about. I haven’t seen Alex in weeks.”
Donovan stood there, wanting to pound the crap out of Reed, wanting to make him squeal the way Fogerty had. But something clicked in his brain, and in that instant he knew this was a waste of time.
Reed was telling the truth.
Donovan relaxed, turned to Waxman. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Huh?” Waxman said.
“He’s clueless. Let’s go.”
Waxman looked as if he’d just dropped in from another planet and couldn’t quite fathom the behavior of this alien beast. “Did I just miss something?”
A guy with a clipboard appeared in the office doorway. One of the crew members they’d seen earlier. “Hey, Tony. The creep’s back.”
Reed’s face went pale. “What?”
“I told him you were in a meeting, but I don’t think-”
A deep baritone cut him off: “Hey, asshole, you trying to hide from me?”
All at once the doorway filled with a hulking mass of muscle in a Gold’s Gym T-shirt, his fierce gaze directed at Reed. “I need cash, man, and I need it now.”
Donovan’s own gaze dropped immediately to the hulk’s inner left forearm. A long, puckered, pink scar ran the length of it, bearing all the earmarks of a homemade stitch job.
