After She's Gone (West Coast #3)

After She's Gone (West Coast #3) Page 110

To Cassie’s horror, pictures of Allie, Trent, and herself flashed onto the screen while Whitney’s voice continued. “Who is this man?” A close-up of Trent, unshaven, in jeans and an open shirt, lounging against a western facade, one booted foot propped against the weathered boards of what appeared to be a saloon. Cassie recognized the picture as one he’d used when he was briefly a stuntman looking for work in Hollywood while dating her. “If that isn’t enough scandal in this bizarre tragedy,” Whitney went on in a voice-over, “add in the fact that Allie had been involved in a white-hot affair with her costar, Brandon McNary.” Trent’s image faded to be replaced by a sexy head shot of McNary smiling slyly into the camera. “Could he have played a part? All these questions will be answered in the next installment of Justice: Stone Cold. But tonight’s story is dedicated to another portion of Allie Kramer’s life, when she was still an impressionable teen, a schoolgirl in a small Oregon town, her mother, Jenna Hughes, a famous actress who had escaped the pressures, stress, and yes, dangers, of Hollywood.”

Cassie backed up until her calves hit the edge of the couch, where she dropped onto the cushions. Her eyes were trained on the screen and the debacle that was unfolding.

Turn it off.

Her common sense was silently screaming at her.

Don’t watch this. Do not!

In a poorly acted sequence with commercial breaks cutting into the action, the story that had haunted Cassie since her teenage years was played out. She saw unknown actresses play the parts of her mother, her boyfriend, Allie, and, of course, herself. A man who resembled the murderer was also on-screen as he stalked the actress who played Jenna and re-created the terrible ordeal that she had lived through. Interspersed were actual clips from news reports of the horror that had claimed their lives.

In one sequence of footage of her family that had been shot just afterward, Jenna was ushering her children inside the house, waiflike Allie was clinging to her mother, while Cassie threw a dark, angry look at whoever was manning the camera. Quickly, Jenna eased her daughters through the door and away from the public’s eye, but outside, even with the door firmly shut, the camera kept filming, sweeping across the wide front porch to focus on a window where Allie appeared and stared through the glass panes. Then the picture on the screen changed, morphing into Allie nearing adulthood. The same wide-eyed innocence was visible on the older Allie as she stared through another window. That now iconic image had become the poster for Wait Until Christmas, one of the films that had caught the attention of the American public and propelled Allie into stardom.

A cold shiver ran down Cassie’s spine as the image faded back to the first shot again, of young Allie peering through the window of the family home. Even at her tender age, just after a life-shattering ordeal, Allie had been able to exude an ethereal quality. But in the next second, that image was destroyed as Jenna appeared and quickly yanked her daughter from the window. A second later the blinds snapped shut.

“Cass?” Trent’s voice brought her back to the present. He took one look at the television. “What’re you doing? What is this?” He found the remote on the floor and clicked the TV off. Then he gazed hard at Cassie.

“I wanted to see what Whitney had to say.” She felt compelled to defend herself.

“And?”

“Probably not a good idea.”

He tossed the remote onto the couch. “You okay?”

She nodded, not really sure.

He waited, the fire hissing, the dog snoring softly, the seconds ticking by. “Let’s call it a night.”

“I can sleep down here?” she asked, motioning to the couch.

“If you don’t watch any more trash TV.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she mocked.

“Or you could come upstairs.”

“With you?”

“Definitely with me.” His smile was an invitation and she wondered what it would hurt. They were married, not that their marriage was the crux of her hesitation. They’d slept in the same bed last night. Nothing had happened between them, except for the fact she’d felt more secure and safe than she had in months.