Hollywood Wives--The New Generation

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Hollywood Wives--The New Generation Page 40

by Jackie Collins


  “C’mon,” he objected. “She’s engaged to my brother.”

  “I didn’t ask that. I asked if you were interested.”

  “How do I know? She’s very young.”

  “Oh, like you’re so old? Thirty—right? The same age as good old Evan.”

  “I guess that’s not so old, huh?”

  “You do like her,” Saffron said triumphantly.

  “Yeah, I do. So waddaya goin’ t’do—shoot me?”

  “No way, man, I think it’s cool.”

  “Anyway,” he said, moving on. “There’s something about Evan I think you should know.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “He’s screwing Abbey Christian.”

  “Holy shit!” Saffron exclaimed. “If Nicci knew that, she’d definitely be on the next plane to confront him.”

  “Well . . . I kind of alluded to it.”

  “Why’d you do that?”

  “ ’Cause I didn’t think she should marry someone she wasn’t sure about. And since she said she was having doubts, I gave her a hint.”

  “The good news is we now know where she is,” Saffron said. “On her way to beat the crap outta your bro.”

  “You think?”

  “I feel much better,” Saffron said. “Let’s call the hotel an’ have them contact us the moment she arrives.”

  “Good idea.”

  “So, Brian,” Saffron said, grinning. “Tell me how you really feel about our girl? I’m dying to know.”

  Chapter Forty-four

  * * *

  ARLISS RETURNED with a brown bag of greasy hamburgers and several cartons of soggy french fries. Davey was back, so the only one missing was Big Mark.

  “I got six burgers,” Arliss announced, face twitching. “One for her.”

  “This isn’t a restaurant,” Eric said, hating being confined with this bunch of cretins. “She gets nothing. I want her weak. I don’t need her getting strong and trying to escape.”

  “She can’t escape,” Arliss boasted. “I made that room escape proof.”

  “She’s strong,” Little Joe volunteered. “She kicked me in the nuts.”

  “You shouldn’t get that close,” Eric warned.

  “You told me to give her the pills,” Little Joe said, foraging in the bag for a burger.

  “Did you get them down her?”

  “Yes,” Little Joe lied. “It was all I could do to run outta the room an’ lock the door.”

  Arliss wheezed with laughter. “This is so easy,” he crowed. “We gotta do it again. It’s like money for nothin’.”

  “Easy for you,” Little Joe said, sweating. “We’re the ones who grabbed her. Me and Big Mark.”

  “And you did well,” Eric said.

  “What happens next?” Arliss asked.

  “All in good time,” Eric said. “First they have to understand that she’s gone, next they need to know that to get her back, they’ll have to pay.”

  “How’re you gonna swap the girl for the money?” Little Joe asked, tomato ketchup and hamburger juice dribbling down his chin. “They could call the cops.”

  “No,” Eric said. “I told them no cops, or the girl dies.”

  “Dies?” Arliss said, jumping up in alarm. “We’re not gonna kill anybody.”

  “Yeah,” Little Joe joined in. “You never said nothin’ ’bout that.”

  “Because it won’t happen,” Eric said calmly, his face impassive.

  “What if they don’t pay?” Davey asked, making snorting noises in the back of his throat.

  “They will,” Eric said.

  And if they don’t, he thought, the girl dies.

  •

  WHEN MICHAEL CALLED, Antonio was not in his room.

  “Do you know what Antonio looks like?” Lissa asked Danny, who’d returned with the news that he could not locate Nicci’s name on any flights from L.A. to Utah.

  Danny bobbed his head, anxious to do whatever he could to help. This was such a distressing situation, he hated seeing his princess so sad.

  “Okay,” Michael said. “Walk through the casino and see if you can find him.”

  “He plays blackjack,” Lissa added. “He’ll probably be at one of those tables.”

  “And Danny—” Michael said. “Not a word to anyone about this. Do you understand? We’re involved in a very dangerous situation, and anything you hear in this room can go no further.”

  “What do I tell Mr. Stone?” Danny asked.

  “Tell him that Lissa has to speak to him about Nicci. If he doesn’t seem inclined to leave the table, then add that it’s urgent.”

  “I’ll go right now.”

  “Can you trust him?” Michael asked as soon as Danny left.

  “Yes,” Lissa said. “He’s very trustworthy and loyal. He’s worked for me for six years.”

  “You’re sure we can trust him?”

  “Yes, Michael,” she said wearily. She was very close to falling to pieces, the pressure was becoming intense, and she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

  Michael got up and put his arms around her, holding her close. She began to cry. “Oh, God, Michael,” she sobbed. “What am I going to do?”

  “It’ll be okay, baby,” he said, rocking her back and forth. “I promise you, it’ll be okay.”

  “It will?” she asked hopefully.

  “Here’s the deal,” he said. “First we have to find out she’s okay. Then you’ll pay the money, and we’ll get her back. As soon as we’re sure she’s safe, I’ll catch the motherfucker.”

  “Thank God you’re here with me,” she sighed. “I don’t know what I’d do if I were by myself.”

  “I’ll always be here with you, Lissa,” he said, holding her close. “There’s no getting rid of me now.”

  She hugged him. He was so strong and big and handsome. Somehow she knew she would always feel safe with him beside her.

  •

  NICCI COULD SWEAR someone was watching her. She’d noticed a crude peephole in the door, and whenever an eye blocked it, she could tell.

  “Whoever you are,” she yelled. “I’m ready to get the hell out of here. If you let me go right now, I won’t press charges. I swear to God I won’t. ’Cause you do know that kidnapping’s a federal offense. So, whoever you are, you’d better let me go.”

  She jumped up, ran over, and gave the locked door a hearty kick. The eye vanished.

  “Asshole,” she muttered to herself.

  She wasn’t frightened, she was angry. She’d removed the filthy blanket from the cot in the corner and wrapped it around her shoulders for warmth, but she still couldn’t stop shivering.

  She wondered if she could make a run for it the next time someone opened the door. Perhaps there was only one guy—the short, fat, smelly one. Although she remembered the other one. The big scary one in the mask who’d burst into the house and grabbed her. Where was he now? A couple of years ago she’d taken a self-defense course with Saffron. Unfortunately she could hardly remember anything she’d learned. Kick ’em in the balls, that was the main thing. And yet it hadn’t seemed to bother the little runt who’d tried to force the pills down her throat.

  She looked around for the pills and discovered three of them on the floor. They were Halcion, a strong sleeping pill. A cockroach scampered past, grazing her hand, and she almost screamed.

  Fuck! she thought, staring at the pills. Is that what they’re trying to do to me? Keep me sedated so I won’t cause any trouble?

  She kicked the door again. “Help!” she yelled. “Help! Somebody help me! I’m trapped. Get me out of here. Help! Help!”

  Instinctively she knew it was no good, her cries could not be heard. Wherever she was, she had a horrible feeling it was in a totally isolated place.

  •

  DANNY SKIRTED AROUND the casino, his eyes searching for Antonio Stone. He’d seen him at the party and knew he would recognize him. He checked out the blackjack tables, and finally spotted him sitting at a table with his wife.


  Danny was not sure how to approach, but since this was an emergency, he did it boldly. “Excuse me, Mr. Stone,” he said, coming up behind him.

  “Don’t bother me now,” Antonio said, waving him away. “I’m busy.” He had a stack of chips in front of him and seemed to be enjoying himself.

  “Mr. Stone,” Danny persisted. “I have a message from Miz Roman about your daughter.”

  “Not now,” Antonio repeated as the dealer dealt him a card. “Ah! Blackjack!” he crowed. The dealer pushed another stack of chips toward him. It was only then he turned to glance at Danny. “What is it?” he asked impatiently.

  “Miz Roman would like you to come to her suite.”

  “Who is this, darling?” Bianca asked, leaning over.

  “Something to do with Nicci,” Antonio said. “Lissa wants to see me.”

  “You cannot leave now—you’re winning,” Bianca pointed out.

  “It’s very urgent,” Danny interjected.

  “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Antonio said badtemperedly.

  “No,” Danny replied. “It’s about Nicci.”

  Reluctantly, Antonio rose from the table. “You stay here and play for me,” he told his wife. “I’ll be right back.”

  He followed Danny to the elevator and then to the suite.

  By the time they got there, both Michael and Lissa were dressed.

  “What is so urgent?” Antonio asked, entering with plenty of attitude. “I was being very lucky for once.”

  “It concerns Nicci,” Lissa said. “And whatever I tell you has to stay in this room.”

  “What has she done now?” Antonio asked, implying by his tone that whatever Nicci did was always a drama.

  Michael stepped forward. “We think she’s been kidnapped,” he said. “They’re asking for a two-million-dollar ransom.”

  •

  ERIC LEFT THE BUILDING to make his third call. He drove a few blocks away and used a pay phone. He realized it was possible they might be able to trace his calls, so the first two calls he’d made on a cheap cell phone he’d purchased under an assumed name, and this time he’d decided to call from somewhere different. Besides, he did not want Davey, Arliss, and Little Joe listening to him. They still had no idea who Nicci was. They thought she was simply a kid with rich parents who’d pay to get her back. Little did they know how famous and successful her mother was.

  He made the call short and sweet. “Delivery of the money will take place in L.A.,” he said. “So get back here fast. Give me a number where I can reach you. At 8:00 A.M. you’ll get further instructions.”

  “I have to speak to Nicci,” Lissa said quickly. “Or there’ll be no money.”

  “She’s not here,” Eric said.

  “I have to talk to her,” Lissa repeated. “Otherwise, no ransom.”

  “You’ll speak to her in the morning,” Eric said, furious that she’d asked. “Have the money ready then. No delays. This is my last call until then.”

  •

  EVERYONE IN THE ROOM listened to the call. Lissa, Michael, Antonio, and Danny.

  “It’s not good that he didn’t put her on,” Michael said. “Although he did say he’d allow her to speak to you in the morning, so that’s something. He must be keeping her somewhere else. He’s going out to use a phone, probably afraid we’ll put a trace on it.”

  “We can’t risk her life,” Lissa said. “Don’t you agree, Antonio?”

  He nodded, his expression somber.

  “I’m thinking,” Lissa said, “that I should meet with Walter Burns to see if he can arrange to give me the cash.”

  “Who is Walter Burns?” Antonio asked.

  “The owner of the hotel,” Michael said.

  “Then it is an excellent idea,” Antonio said. “I am not in my country, Lissa, otherwise I would help.”

  “I know,” she murmured.

  “You must tell me if there is anything at all I can do.”

  You can offer to pay half the ransom, Michael thought, but he stayed silent. It wasn’t any of his business.

  “I’ll go call Walter,” Michael said. “Maybe he’ll see you now.”

  Lissa nodded. “Please do that, Michael.”

  Michael left the room, and Antonio took her hand and whispered words of comfort. She put her head on his shoulder and rested there.

  “You’d better go back to your wife, Antonio,” she said after a few minutes. “There’s nothing else we can do until tomorrow.”

  “We’ll keep you informed,” Michael said, coming back into the room. “And it’ll be better if you don’t say a word to anyone—including your wife.”

  Antonio nodded, kissed Lissa on both cheeks and embraced her.

  She noticed that his embrace felt puny next to Michael’s.

  “Stay strong, my beauty,” Antonio said. “I am here if you need me.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured.

  And then Antonio was gone.

  •

  WALTER AND EVELYN BURNS’ living quarters made Lissa’s penthouse suite look like a pit stop. They had created a magnificent twenty-five-thousand-square-foot home on the top floor across the other side of the hotel. The five-bedroom penthouse featured rooms with sixteen-foot ceilings, delicate rare wood moldings, and Italian marble floors. Venetian glass chandeliers were everywhere. Picassos and Matisses hung on the walls, and there were many Italian rococo mirrors. Walter and Evelyn obviously enjoyed looking at themselves.

  Walter greeted them, resplendent in a red-and-black smoking jacket, with black silk pants and slippers monogrammed in gold with his initials. He was smoking a large Cuban cigar. Evelyn was nowhere in sight.

  “Come in, come in,” he said, welcoming them. “What can I do for you at this late hour?”

  Lissa was so upset and unnerved she could barely speak. “Michael,” she said. “You tell him.”

  “Unfortunately, we have a situation,” Michael said, clearing his throat. “A situation that cannot go beyond these four walls.”

  “If there’s one thing I understand,” Walter said, “it’s situations. Believe me, I am a man you can trust.”

  “I’m sure,” Michael said, getting right to the point. “Miz Roman’s daughter, Nicci, is being held for ransom.”

  “Is your daughter in Vegas?” Walter asked. “Because if she is, she’ll be found immediately. Nothing goes on in this city that I don’t know about.”

  “It didn’t happen here,” Michael said. “It happened in L.A.”

  “What are their demands?” Walter asked, stubbing out his cigar.

  “Two million dollars in cash.”

  “So I thought,” Lissa said, her words tumbling over each other, “that you could give me the cash as part of my payment.”

  Walter nodded thoughtfully. “Do you have any idea who’s taken her?”

  “No,” Michael said. “We found out late tonight. A call came through, and the man on the phone threatened to kill Nicci if the FBI or the cops are brought in. Lissa wants to pay.”

  “I need your help,” she said, appealing to Walter. “I have to get my daughter back safely.”

  Walter and Michael exchanged glances. They both knew what the other was thinking.

  “Well,” Walter said, puffing on his cigar, “this is unusual. Of course, I understand the situation, and if you wish to be paid in that fashion, I can arrange it. However, I never recommend paying kidnappers, and believe me, I’ve had my share of threats.”

  “What would you do?” Lissa asked.

  “I wouldn’t call in the FBI, they’re useless,” Walter said. “I have my own people who use the latest European technology. When he phones again, we can put that into action.”

  “He’s calling tomorrow at 8:00 A.M.”

  “Where?”

  “L.A.,” Michael said.

  “I have people in L.A.,” Walter said.

  “So you will help me?” Lissa asked.

  “My wife loves you, Lissa. She would want me to do anythi
ng I can to help you. So I’ll arrange for you to get the cash. And when your daughter is safe, I’ll make sure the perpetrators of this crime are caught and punished. We have our own way of punishing people.”

  “You do?” she said uncertainly.

  “They’ve got your daughter, Lissa, and they’re holding her for ransom,” he said harshly. “Surely you want to see justice done? In this country people talk about criminal justice. And that’s what it is—justice for the criminals. I take care of things my way.”

  “I see,” she murmured.

  “Now,” he said, all business. “I must organize the cash and instruct my pilot that we’ll be leaving early. We’ll fly to L.A. together. Trust me, Lissa. Everything will work out.”

  She looked at Michael. He nodded his assurance. At a time like this it wasn’t a bad thing having a man like Walter Burns in your corner.

  Chapter Forty-five

  * * *

  BIG MARK STAGGERED into the building, drunk and belligerent, at three o’clock in the morning.

  Eric glared at him angrily. “I warned you I didn’t want any activity around here at night,” he said. “If the cops saw you coming in here this late, they’d be interested in finding out what you were doing.”

  “Not my fault,” Big Mark grumbled. “The club was jumping, an’ I couldn’t get away. I’m the friggin’ bouncer.”

  “I told you to get sick and take off early,” Eric said.

  “Couldn’t do that,” Big Mark said, burping loudly. “I stopped by the bar on my way to work,” he added. “There’s been a freakin’ murder.”

  “Who got murdered?” Little Joe asked.

  “Pattie,” Big Mark said.

  “Our Pattie?” Arliss asked.

  “Yeah,” Big Mark said. “The poor bitch had her throat slit. Right in her own apartment. They found her last night. She’d been dead a couple of days.”

  “Holy mother of Christ!” Arliss said, crossing himself. “Who did it?”

  “Nobody knows,” Big Mark said. “She was hangin’ from the shower rail in her own bathroom.”

  “Jesus!” Davey snorted.

  “That’s what yer get for runnin’ around with yer tits hangin’ out,” Big Mark said, laughing rudely. “Where’s the girl?”

 

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