And then she heard a noise that chilled her.
“Lara?” A woman’s voice—loud and clear. “Lara? Are you there? Are you waiting for me, Lara dear?” A long ominous pause. “In case you’re wondering, this is your good friend, Alison Sewell. Are you ready for a reunion? Because I certainly am.”
CHAPTER
70
THEY WERE ARGUING FURIOUSLY IN the truck as the rain pounded down and Aiden drove too fast.
“You’re making a mistake,” Aiden said, scratching his chin. “Why would you wanna piss Mick off? He told you—he doesn’t know where Summer is.”
“How can we be sure?” Nikki replied, the set of her jaw saying she wasn’t going to give up on this. “He’s some kind of sick pedophile anyway.”
“Hey—you’ve been working with him for the last two months,” Aiden said sharply. “If he was after Summer, I’ve gotta think you would’ve suspected something before now.”
“I have to make certain,” she said stubbornly.
Aiden shrugged. “Okay, okay,” he muttered. “Dunno how I got involved with you. Drugs were a lot easier.”
“Nobody’s asking you to stay,” she snapped. “You were the one who forced this relationship.”
“Oh, I forced it, huh?” he said cynically. “I didn’t notice you racing out of my apartment after we hit the sheets.”
Without warning, she buried her head in her hands.
“I’m sorry, Aiden,” she said, too upset to fight. “I keep on thinking of Summer out there by herself. She’s only a kid, and I feel it’s all my fault. I was never there when she needed me; now I realize I should’ve been.”
“Hey,” he said, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “It’ll work out. You’ll see.”
Mick was renting a large moderm house at the top of Benedict Canyon. Aiden turned his truck into the driveway and pulled up outside the front door.
By now, Nikki had firmly convinced herself she was going to find Summer there. She got out of the truck and rang the doorbell, nervously tapping her fingers together. Aiden stood behind her in the rain, smoking a cigarette. She rang three times before there was any response.
By the time Mick’s voice drifted down from an upstairs window, they were both soaked. “Who’s there?” Mick called out.
“Nikki and Aiden. Can we come in?”
“What’re you doin’ here?”
“Can we come in?” she repeated, determined to get inside his house so she could check the place out for herself.
“Hold on,” he said. “I’ll be down.”
They waited five minutes before he appeared at the front door. Long enough for him to hide Summer, Nikki thought.
“Why are you here?” he asked, blocking the door, disheveled and barefoot in a black-and-yellow striped toweling robe with nothing underneath.
Nikki pushed past him into the house. “Where is she?”
“Oh, Christ!” Mick groaned, his wild-man hair standing on end. “Don’t you listen? I told you on the phone, I do not have your freakin’ daughter.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Who gives a shit if you do or not.” He turned to Aiden. “This is insane.”
“I know,” Aiden said, his long, thin face expressionless.
“You don’t understand, Mick.” Nikki’s tone was even and calm. “I won’t be mad at you, I just need to know she’s safe.”
“Mick?” a girlish voice drifted down from upstairs. “Mick—what’s going on?” And down the stairs came an exquisite Asian girl in a short silk robe.
Mick grimaced. “Say hello to Tin Lee,” he said. “We’re holding Summer captive under our bed. Whyn’t you come up—take a look.”
Aiden grabbed Nikki by the arm and pulled her out of the house. “Satisfied?” he said, bundling her into the truck.
“I . . . I had a feeling.”
“Go ahead. Search the freakin’ house,” Mick yelled after them. “I make one freakin’ mistake in life and I’m supposed to pay for it forever.”
“I’m sorry,” Nikki yelled back.
“So you should be,” Mick grumbled, slamming the front door.
• •
Cold, wet and frightened, with nowhere to go, and shocked because her father was in L.A., Summer decided to head back to Tina’s. The only problem was she didn’t have any money to get there, although if she took a cab she could always pay the driver when they reached her destination—that is, of course, if Tina was home. Now all she had to do was find a cab, which was virtually impossible in the driving rain.
She ventured down the street, her skimpy dress clinging to her body like a second skin, her long, blond hair plastered to her head, raindrops dripping off the tip of her nose.
Cars and trucks zoomed to a halt. A pretty girl on the street alone after midnight was fair game, even if she did resemble a drowned cat.
She kept walking until she reached the Sportman’s Lodge, then she went inside and asked if they’d call her a cab.
She was tired, hungry and dispirited. Sometimes life didn’t seem worth living.
• •
“Anyone phone?” Nikki asked, running into the house, shaking the rain out of her short hair.
“Two hang-ups,” Sheldon said. “The police need Summer’s picture. And someone named Jed phoned.”
“What did he say?”
“He wanted to speak to you.”
“Did you ask him if he’d heard from Summer?”
“No, I didn’t,” Sheldon answered. “If you hadn’t rushed out of here with your tattooed boyfriend, maybe you would have been able to get more information.”
“Don’t criticize Aiden. He’s a better man than you any day.”
“You say the most ridiculous things.”
“Really?” She glared at him; how dare he talk down to her as if they were still married. “Oh, by the way, Sheldon, how’s your teenage wife? How old are you now? Fifty-something? You must make such an adorable couple when you go out in public.”
“I’m not interested in petty fighting,” Sheldon said coldly. “I’m only interested in finding my daughter and taking her back to Chicago.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Nikki said. “Summer’s obviously not happy with you. Perhaps she should stay here with me.”
“No,” Sheldon said flatly. “She’s coming with me.”
“Don’t tell me no,” Nikki answered heatedly. “When we find her, we’ll ask Summer what she wants to do, exactly like you did when she was a little girl.”
Aiden drew her to one side. “I gotta get outta here,” he mumbled.
“What’s the matter?”
“I can’t take all this fighting crap—it’s not good for my karma.”
“Is that all you’re worried about?”
His burned-out eyes were restless lasers. “I gotta cut loose, Nik. Please understand.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’ll call you later.”
“Thanks,” she said indignantly. “Walk out just when I need you.”
“If I thought I could help, I’d stay. But this shit between you and your ex is getting to me, dredging up too many bad memories.”
She tried to focus on Aiden for a moment, see things from his point of view. He was right, there was nothing he could do. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll call you if there’s any news.”
“It’ll be all right,” he said, giving her a hug.
After Aiden left, she went into the bedroom and called Jed back. She told him who she was and that Summer was missing.
“Sorry to hear that, Mrs. B,” he said.
“Who were Summer’s friends when she was here?”
“Guess I was closest to her,” he said. “I introduced her to a lot of people.”
“Anyone in particular you can think of?”
“There was this one girl she kinda hung with—Tina.”
“Do you have her number?”
“Got it somewhere.”
“It??
?s important, Jed. I know she could still be in Chicago, but my gut feeling tells me she’s here.”
“When you find her, ask her to call me,” Jed said. “It wasn’t like I was her boyfriend, only she did introduce me to Mr. Barry, said she’d talk to him about putting me in one of his movies. I’m an actor, y’know.”
Surprise, surprise. “Now’s not the time to discuss it, Jed,” she said impatiently. “Just give me Tina’s number.”
He did so, and Nikki immediately called.
“Ha! I knew you’d call!” Tina crowed, before Nikki had a chance to say a word. “Get your cute little suburban ass back here, Summer. I got big news about Norman. Move it, girl!”
Nikki didn’t need to hear any more, she quickly replaced the receiver without saying anything. Then she called Jed back. “Sorry to bother you again, do you have Tina’s address?”
“I got it written down somewhere, think she’s in one of those high-rise buildings off Sunset. Oh, an’ Mrs. B, while I got your attention, can you talk to your husband about maybe like, interviewing me?”
“If you give me Tina’s address, I’ll take care of it next week,” she promised.
He gave her the information, and she ran back into the living room, where Sheldon was pouring himself yet another hefty brandy. “Let’s go,” she said urgently. “I think I’ve found her.”
“Thank God!” Sheldon responded. “And then I’m taking her straight back to Chicago where she belongs.”
We’ll see about that, Nikki thought. Because this time I’m not letting her go without a fight. ’
CHAPTER
71
ALISON SEWELL. THE MAD WOMAN who’d stalked her for almost a year, sending letters, photos and gifts; turning up at her door; insulting anyone who got in her way.
Oh, God! This couldn’t possibly be happening, this had to be some bizarre nightmare. Besides, Alison Sewell was in jail—locked up and out of her life. Lara had actually been in the courtroom when the judge had sentenced the crazy woman. She’d never forgotten the look of hatred that spread across Alison’s face when their eyes had met for the briefest of moments.
The old house was filled with the noise of the relentless rain, howling wind and crashing surf as the big storm began whipping the sea down below into a frenzy.
Had she imagined the sound of Alison Sewell’s voice? Maybe the storm was messing with her mind.
No. Impossible. She wasn’t hearing things. The woman was actually in her house.
Get a grip, she told herself. If she is here, you can deal with it. Ask her what she wants. Tell her she’s trespassing and that she has to leave immediately or you’ll call the police.
Oh yes? With what? Your phone doesn’t work. You’re trapped here, alone with an obsessed maniac. And nobody except Cassie knows where you are.
“Alison?” she called out, trying to keep her voice firm and strong. “Alison Sewell. Where are you? Can we talk?”
• •
Cassie left Granita feeling a lot better after stuffing down a whole smoked salmon pizza and finishing off a full glass of red wine.
“Better get home before the storm hits,” Wolf warned her.
The rain was now pounding down. She’d borrowed an umbrella from the front desk, and balancing the carton of food in one hand, she managed to get into her car while staying comparatively dry. Lara would be wondering what had happened to her, but Cassie was sure she’d be pleased when she came back with supplies, including plenty of candles, a couple of extra flashlights and the special chicken dish from Granita.
Maybe when she got back, Lara would reveal to her what dastardly deed Joey had committed to be suddenly cast out in the cold.
She attempted to start the engine on the Saab. It coughed a few times and wouldn’t turn over. “Damn!” she muttered, trying again. Fourth time lucky—the car started. She switched on her windshield wipers, the rain was so heavy she could scarcely see a thing.
She moved slowly out of the parking lot and headed toward the stoplight on the corner. Her car phone rang, startling her.
“Cassie, my dear.”
She immediately recognized Richard’s voice. “Richard!” she exclaimed, wondering what he was doing calling her in her car at this time of night.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“In my car, obviously,” she replied.
“I was speaking to Lara and we got cut off. I thought she said something about being with you.”
Now it became clear. Lara was thinking of getting back with Richard, and that’s why Joey was yesterday’s news. Of course! This was excellent. Cassie had always favored Richard over Joey.
“I’m on my way back to Lara now,” she said. “I’m sure she told you the house has no power, no food, nothing. I went to the market to stock up. Looks like it’s turning into a bad storm.”
Richard thought fast, what house was she talking about? “I trust you got everything you need,” he said.
“I hope so,” Cassie said.
“I was thinking,” he added smoothly, “that, because of the storm, maybe I should drive out to be with you and Lara.”
“Sounds like a great idea to me,” Cassie said cheerfully.
“Then you’d better remind me how to get there.”
“You came out with Nikki one day, when Lara was renting. You complained about how long it took to get there.”
“That’s right,” he said, with a self-deprecating chuckle. “And I still can’t remember the way.”
“Stay on the Pacific Coast Highway for about half an hour until you reach Point Dume Road. Then you take the first turn on the left past that, and it’s way down. There are no other houses, so you can’t miss it. Just look for the big, gloomy house at the end. I can’t imagine why Lara bought it.”
“Nor can I,” he murmured.
“Please come soon. I know I’ll be glad to have a man in the house tonight.”
“Uh . . . Cassie, since I got cut off from Lara, I didn’t get a chance to tell her I was coming, so why don’t you leave the door open and I’ll surprise her.”
“Can I ask you something?” Cassie said. “I know this is very forward of me, but are you and Lara getting back together? Is that what this is all about?”
“You guessed it,” he said.
“I knew something was going on when you spent all that time in her trailer this morning,” Cassie said, quite delighted. “I’m so pleased. Of course,” she added, a touch guiltily, “I feel sorry for Nikki, she’s a nice woman, but in my opinion you and Lara always belonged together.”
“You’re very smart, Cassie.”
“Thanks, Richard. We’ll see you soon.”
“Don’t forget—it’s a surprise, so not a word.”
“Got it,” Cassie said, grinning happily. Maybe, when Richard arrived, she could leave and go home to the comfort of her own bed. What a pleasure that would be.
The red light changed to green, and Cassie proceeded across the intersection, making a left-hand turn onto the Pacific Coast Highway.
She did not see the Porsche careening out of control, heading in her direction. She was too busy thinking about Richard and Lara and what would happen next.
The Porsche smashed into the side of the Saab with a sickening crunch, sending both cars out of control. The Saab began spinning in circles before somersaulting across the slick surface of the wet road and turning over with Cassie trapped inside.
When the first rescuers reached the car, they couldn’t tell whether she was dead or alive.
• •
When it rains in L.A. it doesn’t take long before everything falls to pieces. Mud slides slither down the hills and cliffs; rivers overflow; gutters stop up; roofs leak; cars crash—in fact, everything goes haywire.
By the time Joey turned off San Vicente and headed down toward the ocean, there were flood warnings in effect and the sea was crashing its way toward the well-kept decks of Malibu houses, threatening living rooms and lives. Police and fire teams wer
e already out on the roads, turning cars back and trying to direct the rest of the traffic, which was now moving at an extremely slow pace.
This gave Joey plenty of time to think. Exactly what was he going to tell Lara when he finally arrived? The truth, that’s what. The truth about his fucked-up life, his efforts to break away from his background and become an actor, and how he’d gone back to see his mother and gotten caught in a trap, taking the rap for a murder he didn’t commit.
And how had his mother repaid him? She’d run off with another loser, without even leaving a forwarding address.
But he wasn’t perfect either. He’d used Madelaine, just as he’d used most women—for sex or whatever he wanted from them. Then Lara had come into his life, and she’d made him aware that it was possible to care for another person and to have no ulterior motive.
Yes. He would tell her the truth. That she made everything special. She was his life, his true love, his soul mate. He’d throw himself on her mercy and hope she could forgive him.
It wasn’t like he wanted anything from her. All he wanted was to be there for her, by her side, ready to protect and support her in every way.
Traffic had slowed to a crawl. He attracted the attention of a cop standing in the middle of the road. “What’s happening?” he asked.
“Big accident up ahead,” the cop said. “I don’t advise you to continue on this road unless you live here.”
“I do,” he lied.
“Okay, take it easy.”
“I’ll do that.” He switched on the radio. Billie Holiday was singing the blues. “Good Morning, Heartache.” Very suitable.
He couldn’t wait to reach his destination. His love. His future.
• •
Alison could hear the bitch calling out to her. Yes, Lara Ivory remembered her name. And so she should. Alison had been her loyal friend, but that wasn’t enough. No. Lara Ivory had seen fit to betray her.
Of course Lara remembered her name. Soon everybody would know her name.
She started thinking about what photographs she had of herself. Which one would they put on the cover of Time? There was that shot Uncle Cyril had taken of her and her mother, when Alison was nineteen. She hated it, but if they cut her mother out it wasn’t so bad. And she was younger then, prettier.