Madison stood outside with Cole, getting jostled on all sides. “This is quite a scene,” she commented, looking around in amazement.
“It sure is,” Cole agreed. “And I want out.”
That was easier said than done, though, since they were caught in human gridlock as everyone vied to get their cars first.
Somebody accidentally shoved Madison in the back. She turned around to object and came face-to-face with Bo Deacon. He looked at her as if he knew her, but couldn’t quite remember from where.
“Mr. Deacon,” she said. “Madison Castelli. Remember—we met on the plane a few days ago? You, me and Salli.”
“What’s that?” he said, attempting to back away, which was impossible because of the mass of people.
“On the plane, flying in from New York.”
He moved backward, his wife moved forward. “I’m Mrs. Deacon,” Olive announced coldly. “Who did you say you are, dear?”
“Madison Castelli. Your husband and I flew in from New York together. He wanted to sit next to Salli, so I changed seats. It’s such a terrible tragedy, isn’t it?”
Olive shot her husband a filthy look. “You wanted to sit next to Salli, huh?” she sneered as if she’d caught him jerking off in Times Square.
“For five minutes,” Bo blustered. “I had some business to discuss with her.”
“What kind of business?”
“Nothing important.”
“You make me sick.”
“Be quiet, Olive,” Bo said, desperately gesturing to the valet. “Bring me my damn car at once. Don’t you know who I am?”
Madison wondered what was going on with Bo and his wife. He appeared to be extremely agitated. And she was quite obviously drunk. A delightful couple.
Before she could wonder any further, Bobby emerged, surrounded by Salli’s family. People fell back, making a path for him through the crowds. Salli’s two little half sisters were crying, overcome with emotion. Their mother kept on urging them to be quiet.
“They shouldn’t bring kids to something like this,” Cole muttered. “Look at ’em, they’re all confused. Probably never been out of Idaho before.”
Salli’s father was openly sobbing, tears rolling down his face.
A lone photographer managed to dart through security and started snapping pictures of the family.
Two guards leaped forward and grabbed him by the shoulder, smashing his camera to the ground. “You fuckers!” the photographer shouted. “I’m only doing my job.”
Madison turned away in time to see Eddie Stoner pushing his way through the mob, dragging Angela Musconni behind him. Eddie was heading directly for Bobby, a purposeful look in his eye. “You did it, didn’t you?” he yelled belligerently as he drew closer. “You . . . freakin’ . . . did it.”
Bobby refused to acknowledge him, but everyone else turned to gape unashamedly.
“C’mon—admit it! You motherfuckin’ hypocrite,” Eddie screeched. “You killed my Salli.”
Bobby finally focused. “You talking to me?” he snapped. “You cowardly piece of dog shit.”
“Yeah, it’s you I’m talkin’ to,” Eddie responded, thrusting out his jaw.
The two little girls clung to their mother, terrified by the two angry men.
“Don’t do this,” Salli’s father begged, tears streaming down his weathered cheeks. “Please don’t make a scene.”
“Make a scene?” Eddie shouted bitterly. “I’m gonna bash his freakin’ face in.”
Angie grabbed his arm. “Let’s get out of here, Eddie,” she urged. “This isn’t doing you any good.”
Eddie was on a roll. He shrugged her off, almost causing her to lose her balance. Then he threw a wild punch, cutting Bobby above the eye with his pinkie ring, and knocking off his dark glasses, which fell to the ground and shattered.
Bobby let out a roar of pain and fury and swung back. Before anyone could intervene, the two of them were embroiled in a vicious fistfight.
Paparazzi sprung out from everywhere, flashing away with their cameras, elbowing each other for the best position. The helicopters overhead hovered even lower. Several security guards leaped forward, intent on separating the two men—so intent that they forgot about controlling the media.
“Oh, God! I can’t stand it. This is turning into a circus,” Madison gasped.
“We’d better get our asses outta here,” Cole responded, taking her by the arm. “We’ll pick up the car later.”
Half of her wanted to go, and the other half wanted to stay. There was a big story taking place right in front of her and she knew she had to cover it. “No,” she said. “I have to see what happens.”
“Somebody’s gonna get hurt, that’s what’ll happen,” Cole said, still attempting to pull her away.
Two of the guards had Eddie in a lock, with both his arms twisted behind him.
Bobby took the opportunity to smash his fist into Eddie’s face. There followed the sound of teeth breaking and then blood began spurting.
“Leave him alone, you crazoid freak!” Angie screamed, jumping on Bobby and pummeling him with her fists. Bobby hauled back, shaking her off and then hitting her on the jaw. She dropped like a stone.
“Jesus!” Cole groaned. “Now I gotta get into it.” And he went for Bobby, wrestling him to the ground.
Pandemonium reigned. Women were screaming. Men shouting and swearing. Like a swarm of mosquitoes the photographers were everywhere. And the TV news crews, sensing blood, broke ranks and added to the chaos.
In his struggle to get out of the way, Bo Deacon was accidentally hit in the face by a security guard. “My nose,” he yelled. “You idiot! You’ve broken my fucking nose.”
“Serves you right for coming here,” Olive muttered.
“Get me to a fucking plastic surgeon,” Bo screamed. “And shut the fuck up!”
There was not enough security to control what was going on. The entire aftermath of the funeral was turning into some kind of crazed celebrity riot.
And there was absolutely nothing anyone could do.
• • •
By the time Tucci made it to the scene, everybody was involved. Quickly taking in the situation, he shoved his way through the crowds, grabbing Cole off Bobby—who now had a bloody nose as well as a gash over his left eye. Tucci summoned the help of a couple of cops.
Angie staggered to her feet. “I want that man arrested!” she screamed, pointing an accusing finger at Bobby. “The prick assaulted me. I want him arrested.”
“Go fuck yourself, cunt!” Bobby responded.
“You dumb asshole!” Angie screamed. “Look what you’ve done to Eddie. Look at him!”
Eddie could hardly talk. He was sitting on the ground with blood gushing from his mouth; two of his front teeth were missing.
Tucci took control of the situation. “You’d all better come to the station,” he said. “We’ll sort it out there.”
“You bet!” Angie yelled, pointing at Bobby. “I’m suing his ass! We’re pressing charges.”
Meanwhile the cameras captured every exquisite, celebrity moment.
chapter 17
“ARE YOU JAKE?” JUNIA said.
“Who wants to know?” Jake asked, cradling the phone.
“You interested in hearing about Kristin?”
“Where is she?” he asked, jumping to attention.
“You got money?”
“What is this—a shakedown?”
“I know stuff about Kristin you’ll want to hear. But I gotta get paid for my information, ’cause if I give it up, I’ll have to scoot outta town.”
“How much money?”
“How much you got?”
“This conversation is dumb—I don’t even know who you are.”
“Your girlfriend could be in danger.”
“What kind of danger?”
“You read about that blonde found dead in the ocean? It could’ve been Kristin.”
“Who are you?”
??
?If you’ve got ten thousand dollars, we can meet. If you don’t, forget it.”
“Where am I going to come up with ten thousand dollars?”
“Not my problem.”
“You sound like a crazy person.”
“Insults make me want to hang up.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll meet you,” he said, deciding that the smart thing to do was to find out what this was about. After all, if Kristin was in trouble, he wanted to help.
“And you’ll bring cash?”
“Yes,” he lied impatiently. “Where do we meet?”
“There’s a restaurant, Chin Chin, on Sunset Plaza. I’ll be at a table outside. Be there in an hour.”
“How will I know you?”
“I’m wearing an orange sweater. And don’t blow it—if you want Kristin safe, you’d better bring the money.”
Jake put down the phone, his mind in turmoil. What in hell was going on here? And what could he do?
First of all, he’d hardly brought any money to L.A. with him—six or seven hundred dollars at the most. His bank was in Arizona, and there was no way he could make a withdrawal that size today. And who was the mystery person on the phone? It certainly wasn’t the woman who’d called Kristin’s answering machine—this woman sounded much younger.
Quickly realizing he needed help, he picked up the phone and called his brother at the TV station. Jimmy wasn’t there, so he tried him at home and got his wife.
“Jakie—we miss you,” Bunny cooed. “When are you coming to dinner again?” She’d obviously for-gotten the petulant fit she’d thrown the last time he was there.
“Tell Jimmy to call me as soon as possible,” he said, hanging up and pacing furiously around the room.
What next? he wondered. Suddenly he thought of Madison. She was an intelligent woman and a journalist. She was also the only friend he had in L.A. Hoping that she’d have some ideas, he called her.
“Hi, Jake,” Madison said breathlessly. “I just walked in. You’re not going to believe what happened at Salli’s funeral. Put on your TV, I’m sure it’ll be all over the four-o’clock news.”
“There’s something urgent I have to discuss with you,” he said. “Can I come by?”
“Of course.”
“See you in a minute,” he said, grabbing his leather jacket and racing downstairs, stopping at the desk to tell them where he’d be. Then he jumped in his truck and drove over.
Madison greeted him at the door. “You sounded like it’s something important.”
“It is,” he said grimly.
“Come in and tell me everything. You remember Cole, don’t you?”
“Yeah—hi, Cole,” he said. “Uh... Madison, this is kind of private. Can we talk somewhere quiet?”
“Hey, man, you caught me on my way out,” Cole said. “I got appointments backed up, an’ they’re all gettin’ pissed at me, ’cause since this lady hit town I never get anythin’ done. It’s more of a kick hangin’ with her.”
“Didn’t mean to be rude,” Jake said.
“No sweat,” Cole said, kissing Madison on the cheek. “She’ll tell you all about our insane funeral experience. It’s a story, man.”
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Madison asked as soon as Cole left. “Seven-Up? Evian? Pellegrino? We’ve got it all.”
He shook his head and sat down. Madison looked great as usual, and she seemed to be free of complications. Why couldn’t he have met her first? “Remember I told you about a woman I was seeing?”
“Kristin, wasn’t that her name?”
“Yeah, well... I did what you suggested and tried calling her. She wasn’t there, and, according to her maid, she didn’t come home last night. Which I guess, considering the business she’s in, is not unusual. However, she still hasn’t gotten home, and a short while ago I got a weird call from some girl who informs me Kristin’s in danger, and if I meet her and hand over ten thousand bucks, she’ll fill me in.”
“You’re kidding?”
He shrugged. “No, although I thought she was. That’s exactly how I felt. I mean I know L.A.’s got a crazy reputation, but this has to be a bad joke, right?”
“Let me get this straight,” Madison said, frowning. “Kristin didn’t come home last night. You haven’t spoken since you walked out on her. Now you’ve got this person calling, demanding money.”
“That’s about it. She mumbled something about a dead blonde in the ocean.”
“Oh, God!”
“What?”
“Did you happen to watch Natalie on the news today?”
“No.”
“She had a story on the blonde. She was a call girl—worked for a madam called Darlene. Does that name mean anything to you?”
“Darlene? No.”
“Wait a minute,” Madison said, thinking fast. “Do you have Kristin’s number?”
“Yeah.”
“Give it to me, I’ve got an idea.”
“Hey, listen, we don’t have time. I’m supposed to meet my mystery caller at Chin Chin in an hour— which,” he said, glancing at his watch, “is now in about half an hour.”
“Let me try this first,” Madison said, punching out the number. Chiew answered the phone. “I’m looking for Kristin,” Madison said.
“Madam not here,” Chiew said.
“Is she at Darlene’s?”
“No,” Chiew said. “Don’t know where.”
“Damn!” Madison said. “I owe her money. What’s Darlene’s number? I’m in my car and don’t have it with me.”
Chiew gave her the number.
Madison hung up. “I want you to take a look at something,” she said to Jake.
“I gotta get going,” he said impatiently.
Madison pushed Natalie’s videotape into the VCR and began playing it for him. “I think Darlene could be your girlfriend’s madam, too,” she said. “And I have a feeling that whoever you’re supposed to meet is right. Kristin might be in trouble.”
“Shit!”
Madison jumped up. “C’mon, Jake,” she said firmly. “I’ll go with you. Between us, we’ll find out exactly what’s going on.”
chapter 18
LATER IN THE DAY, WHEN Max showed definite signs of improvement, Diana had him moved out of intensive care and into a private suite. He was conscious and well aware of the fact that she was sitting beside him, holding his hand.
“How are you feeling?” she asked anxiously.
“Like I had a battle with a rhinoceros,” he groaned. “What happened to me?”
“You got shot.”
“Shot?” he said, managing a laugh. “Who did it— a dissatisfied actress?”
“The police would like you to try and identify some mug shots when you’re ready.”
He sighed. “Oh, yeah, yeah, I really feel like doin’ that. Y’know, identify some gang member who’s gonna come back and cream my ass. I think not.” He struggled to sit up, wincing with pain. “Hey, how come you’re here?”
“I came as soon as I heard. I stayed with you all night.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“It’s more than nice, Max. I think you must know how I—”
Before she could finish her sentence, the door opened and Freddie strode in. “Well,” Freddie said. “What kind of a situation did you get yourself into this time?”
“I’ve done worse, haven’t I?” Max said, grinning weakly.
Freddie gave a dry laugh. “A lot worse. The good thing is that you’re okay. Has Diana been looking after you?”
“She’s the best,” Max said. “Thanks for the loan.”
“With my compliments,” Freddie said, infuriating Diana.
An attractive black nurse entered the room. “Everything all right, Mr. Steele?”
“Perfect.”
“Ring if you need me.”
“Not bad,” Max said as the pretty nurse retreated.
“Congratulations,” Freddie said. “Diana told me you’re engaged. Who’s the unlu
cky lady?”
Max struggled to figure out what Freddie was talking about, then it started to come back to him. Kristin. Hadn’t he told her to come to his house? Oh God, was she going to laugh when she heard this one. Maybe an engagement wasn’t such a good idea after all, although it might stop Diana, who had been about to say something intimate when Freddie arrived. Yes, he’d be wise to keep the story going. “I’m engaged to a beautiful girl called Kristin,” he said. “You haven’t met her, but you will.”
“Where is she?” Freddie said, turning to Diana with a questioning expression.
“I tried calling her,” Diana explained. “The phone was answered by a woman called Darlene who was extremely rude.”
Max knew exactly what must have happened— Diana had connected with Kristin’s madam. He choked back a laugh. Thank God she hadn’t put it together. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbled. “Darlene’s her cousin. Sometimes she stays there.”
“Give me Kristin’s number and I’ll phone her personally,” Freddie said. “Can’t wait to see the woman who’s hooked you.”
“Don’t want to worry her,” Max said.
“She must be worried anyway,” Freddie said. “Not hearing from you.”
“To tell you the truth,” Max lied, “she was so happy we got engaged that she went to visit her family in San Diego. I guess that’s why you couldn’t reach her, Diana. She’ll be back in a few days, so let’s not worry her for now.”
“If that’s the way you want it,” Freddie said.
“That’s the way . . .” Max said, feeling sleep creeping up on him.
“Is there anything I can do?” Freddie asked.
“Yeah,” Max said, grimacing. “Tell me all is forgiven. I was a schmuck.”
“I think we’ve both realized we’re a team,” Freddie said gravely. “I’m taking the rest of the day off. If you need anything, Ria can reach me.”
“Where are you going?” Diana asked.
“I need to be alone for a while,” Freddie said. “I’m driving to the beach house.”