Chapter 22
Evie
The Talent Manager
Jason Dourif.
He sat a few rows ahead of us, off to the side.
The movie had started, but instead of watching, I found myself staring at the back of Jason’s head.
He couldn’t be more than midfifties, yet his hair was ghost-white, and his fake tanned skin had gone leathery, aging him up.
Having given the paparazzi what they wanted outside, Sebastian left me alone to stew in my thoughts during the film.
He sat beside me politely, making no moves that suggested intimacy beyond colleagues.
Halfway through the movie, Mr. Dourif stood and climbed over the other guests.
Thankfully, I’d taken an aisle seat. I stood quickly, excusing myself, and followed him out of the theater.
He didn’t notice me at first, so I pretended to go to the other bathroom and then waited.
When I saw the men’s room door open, I came out of mine and bumped into him.
“Oh!” I feigned surprise.
“Why, hello there,” Dourif chuckled, his hand instantly finding my waist to steady me. He had a Southern accent I couldn’t quite place. He let me go and stepped back. “I know you.”
I fought back a grimace. “You do?”
He looked me up and down, lowering his glasses to leer better. “Sure do. You’re Lita Reyes’s daughter. Evelyn.”
“Evie,” I corrected.
“Right, Evie. I remember when you were just a little thing.” He chuckled. “I used to come over to visit with Lita. You remember your ol’ Uncle Jason?”
I chuckled uncomfortably. I did not.
“My mom had lots of friends.”
“That she did...” The way he said that, paired with how he was looking at my chest, made me squirm.
He tore his eyes from my dress and looked back up at my face.
“Well, consider me just plain ol’ Jason Dourif, talent manager.
” He offered his hand, and after I shook it, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels.
“You know, while I love my clients, I wasn’t a huge fan of this movie. It’s why I excused myself halfway. Didn’t want to fall asleep!” He laughed loudly.
I glanced at the doors, glad they’d been shut before the film started. He was a loud speaker.
“You do pictures?” he asked.
“I’m starring in my first one currently.” I looked down, playing the bashful, new-to-town actress.
“Is that right? I saw you with ol’ Sebastian Shaw. You doing a Simon Says film? What are they on now, Simon Says Six?”
“Six Six.”
He didn’t catch the joke. I suspected he wasn’t actually listening to me. He just wanted to keep me here.
“You two together?” He licked his dry lips and wiggled his white eyebrows.
I forced back a grimace. “No, we’re just friends.”
“Good! It’s never good to mingle with your coworkers. Smart girl, just like your momma. She did her minglin’ outside of work hours.” He tapped his temple and pinched his lips together, seemingly in thought. “Where you going after this?”
“Home, presumably.”
He laughed and reached for me, patting my shoulder when I moved away.
“Nonsense. I’m having an after-party. You and Sebastian-boy come on over. It’s an open bar, and we got some good music. Drugs? I got all of ’em. We have a whole lotta fun at my parties.” He dug into his pocket and pulled a card from his wallet.
I held back an eye roll. A business card? Who still used those? He handed it to me, and I read it quickly.
“Come around sometime tonight. We can catch up, now that you’re grown. I’d love to get to know how little Lita grew up.” He winked and grabbed the door handle, opening it and stumbling back inside.
I stayed out for a moment, taking in what had just happened. I was disgusted but...excited. I’d just got an invite to my next kill’s house. I tucked the card into my cleavage and hurried back to the movie. I squeezed Sebastian’s hand and was finally able to focus on the film, which wasn’t half bad.
After the movie, I remained by Sebastian’s side as he networked. He introduced me to everyone, and while my mind was elsewhere, I probably made some connections.
“You okay?” Sebastian asked as we finally got into the limousine. “You’ve been glossy eyed for hours.”
“I got invited to an after-party at Jason Dourif’s house,” I blurted, producing the card from my dress.
Sebastian’s eyes widened then darkened. He nodded solemnly. “I see. And you’re going?”
“Well, yeah. What is the proper etiquette for these things? Do I change? When do they start? Do I bring something?” I leaned forward, my excitement bubbling over.
“For what? A murder, or a party?” He snickered. “Yeah, you bring me,” he grumbled. Tugging on his bowtie, he loosened it and sat back with a huff.
“You don’t have to come. I’ve got this.”
He gave me a stern look. “You’re not going to this dude’s house alone. He’s a creep.”
“They’re all creeps.” I crossed my arms. “I can do this. You upheld your part of the bargain. You got me close enough to…do what I have to do.” I hesitated to speak about it with a driver up front, even with the privacy screen shut.
“I have no doubt in your…determination. But your plans have a way of going awry. I’m coming, end of discussion,” he said, pushing the remote to open the screen to speak with the driver. “Anton, I have an after-party to go to.”
He instructed the driver to stop by his house to grab clothes. He ran in and out, planning to change at my place. He came back out with a backpack. When I asked about it, he grinned.
“We might be out late again, like last time.”
Last time being when we killed Glenn.
I looked away and let the driver take us to my place. Sebastian followed me inside and up to my room.
“What do I wear?” I walked into my closet, looking for something comfortable but nice enough to fit in with the other partygoers.
“Well, if you’re going for dramatics, I’d look over here.” Sebastian pointed to the other side of my closet, where all of my mother’s clothes sat on hangers. I hadn’t been able to throw them out. “What did he call you again? Little Lita?” He stuck his tongue out and shuddered.
“He did.” I drifted to her clothes and began yanking hangers to the side, searching for the right outfit.
“Ooh.” I pulled a red-and-black blazer off the rack. It had pants to match. Perfect. I pushed Sebastian out of the closet and climbed out of my dress, sliding on the pants and jacket. I came out and gave him a mini runway walk. “What do you think?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I vaguely remember Lita wearing that, but…she had a shirt underneath.” He looked away quickly.
“Well, this is more my style. Plus, Dourif was wanting Lita, but new. I’d say this fits the bill.”
“You’re nothing like her,” Sebastian muttered. When I didn’t reply, he continued. “She was great, but...not you.”
I didn’t have time to dissect his statement. My mind was elsewhere, already halfway to the party.
“What’s that?” I asked after I came out of the bathroom, ready to go. Sebastian was adjusting a long blond wig on top of his head. It looked rather good. He shoved a beanie on his head and slid thick-framed glasses over his nose.
“This is Ash Wilkes. My disguise for whenever I don’t want to be noticed.”
“Ash Wilkes, as in…”
“Evil Dead and Misery.” He grinned.
I pursed my lips and looked toward the closet.
“Should I put on a wig too?” My mom had a dozen of them, probably for the same reason.
“Sure. Let’s find one.”
We dug through the boxes, and I found a long, straight, ruby-colored wig. I had to pin back my bangs, but I tugged it on and tied a scarf around my head, pairing it with large sunglasses with pink frames. I stared at my reflection, trying to think of a name.
“I’m Beverly Bradford,” I decided.
“As in?”
“IT and Black Christmas.”
“Great choices,” Sebastian complimented.
I beamed at him.
We hurried back into the limo, where we were taken across town to a large house.
It was nice but only half the size of my mother’s small mansion.
Cars lined the street and driveway. Music poured from the house, and as we walked inside, it was just as Dourif had described.
Alcohol, music, and whatever drugs I wanted.
People were dancing with abandon—and having sex with even more.
I took Sebastian’s hand, and he led me through the house in search of the man of the manor, Mr. Jason Dourif himself.
When our self-guided tour came up short, we had to resort to asking.
That was something neither of us had wanted to do.
Asking someone gave the police a possible witness.
However, Sebastian found the drunkest person at the party—someone who wouldn’t remember us—and they pointed and slurred something.
Whatever was said had been correct, because Sebastian returned to me, grabbed my hand, and took me to a back room I hadn’t noticed before.
He pushed the door open, and I turned my head in disgust as I caught a young redhead giving the midlist talent manager a deep-throated blowjob.
He looked up, and when she paused, he shoved her head back down.
“Who’s there?” he called.
I slid my glasses off, and he instantly recognized me.
“Hey! Little Lita! Come in. Close the door behind ya. She’s almost done,” he said, letting his head fall back.
Sebastian snickered and gave me a look. “You going in?” he asked.
I scowled. He found this entirely too amusing.
“Or you gonna wait outside?”
The question was layered. Sebastian wasn’t referring to waiting for the blowjob to finish. I’d watched him put a knife in his pocket when we were at my house. If I didn’t kill Jason, he would. So what was I going to do?
Do what I came to Hollywood for, or continue being part of the audience?