Hollywood Demon (The Collegium Book 6) Read Online Free PDF Page B

sun-streaked hair and healthily tanned skin. “If you can code, you can—”
    The shutters at the front of the museum rolled up. A subdued whine indicated that an electric motor powered their retraction. First the legs, in gray sweatpants, then the chubby torso covered by a blue t-shirt, and finally, an unshaven face with the beginnings of a double chin and its eyes squinched up as if at the brightness of the morning light were revealed.
    Bryce Goodes regarded them for a long moment through the front glass door. Then he smiled and reached for the handle. “Mark! Good to see you, man. Come in.”
    Mark put a hand to Clancy’s lower back, ushering her in first.
    Bryce’s pale blue eyes tracked the gesture as he shuffled back from the entrance, giving them space to enter.
    Space was in short supply within the museum. It was crowded! Display cases jostled with ordinary tables in a maze-like pattern. Shelves along the walls held more objects located in-between posters, the details of which Clancy couldn’t discern. The museum was long and narrow, stretching back, but since its side windows remained shuttered, the light from the glass front door and windows only dimly reached the first third of the exhibits. It was like walking into a depressed junk shop. The name of the museum seemed only too apt: the Museum of the Boring But True.
    Then Bryce switched on the lighting. Overhead fluorescents flickered into life and a couple of spotlights glared onto what he obviously considered the jewels of the collection.
    Now, Clancy could see that the posters on the walls were grainy photographs super-enlarged, and that every object was displayed with copious explanatory notes beside it. A large glass box held one of the “mermaid bodies” that had been popular in the nineteenth century, a hoax generally composed of a monkey’s skull and something like a manatee’s skeleton. Long, harsh black hair, likely horse hair, was stuck to the grinning skull.
    She edged away from it as Mark made introductions. She politely held out her hand to Bryce. “Sorry that we intruded so early.”
    “Not at all.” His hand was warm and dry, his grip firm, and it didn’t linger. “I was awake.” A smirk flickered across his face. “Mark knows I like to start my day early. So. How do you know Mark?” The question was purportedly for her, but Bryce stared at his friend.
    Mark stood casually among the jumble of objects, seeming unfazed that the nearest object to him was an Ancient Egyptian sarcophagus.
    Clancy peered closer and tapped it discreetly. Papier Mache. This was some Hollywood prop! It was her imagination that had made it seem real. She’d freaked herself out.
    As the shock of encountering the museum’s cluttered display eased, she realized that it wasn’t as pathetic as she’d assumed. The collection wasn’t some sad obsessive’s display of junk. It ranged widely across the spectrum of issues sceptics attempted to debunk, and the arguments outlined in the detailed display notes were reasoned and evidenced. Space junk sat beside displays on UFOs and aliens, health scares were debunked, and political campaign ephemera (buttons, posters, flags) brightened up analysis of politically-linked conspiracies. The museum actually represented a lot of hard work and dedication. What it needed was some sparkle; some re-arranging to appeal to tourists who wandered in, off Hollywood Boulevard.
    “Clancy’s an old friend,” Mark said. “We knew each other as kids.”
    “A long term arrangement.” Bryce seemed delighted, and intrigued.
    She stared at him, taken aback by the odd phrasing.
    Mark frowned. “Clancy’s just returned to LA. When she mentioned wanting a job where she met people—”
    “You thought of me.” Bryce laughed, turning away and heading for the rear of the museum. Stairs in the back corner, behind a “private” sign, indicated that was how he accessed his apartment.
    “Of the museum,” Mark said slowly. He glanced at