The storm clouds gather in the little monster’s face. Gone is the win-you-over attempt.
“Shit! Then let’s get the hell out of here and let the old douche bag wonder what happened!”
I feel both eyebrows raise up to a point somewhere above my hairline and know I’ll pay for this moment with Botox in a few years. My mouth drops open, mirroring Andrea’s and I shake my head in amazed disbelief.
“What drugs are you on?” I ask. “We will be right here waiting at the concourse when that plane lands and you will be going right back where you came from!”
Back comes the little princess. “Oh, come on, Porsche, please? I only wanted to meet Jeremy. I mean—” now she’s playing to the front seat audience “—it’s always been a dream of mine to meet Mr. Reins. He’s such a dedicated artist and I want to study drama at Yale one day.”
“Yale?” Sam says, interested now. “Really?”
No, Sam, she’s blowing smoke up your pants leg. Ms. Thing is playing you.
“Please, please, please let me stay out here with you and Jeremy for a couple of days,” she whines. “I won’t be any trouble, really I won’t. I’m sure he won’t mind if you ask him. I was just so worried, you know, about the attempt on his life last night and all.”
“No.” I look at Andrea. “Is there a little lunch place or something where we could get her a snack before she flies back?”
Andrea looks over the rim of her dark glasses, studying the new arrival like she’s just flown in from Mars.
“Um…Chicken and Waffle…uh…Rocco’s Burgers…” She is running through her list of eating establishments, but Haley isn’t interested.
“No. I want to meet Jeremy.” She leans back against the plush leather seat, folds her arms over her chest and sticks her lower lip out like a complete two-year-old.
Sam is absolutely in love. His grin grows with Haley’s resistance and I can’t imagine why in the world he finds the girl so amusing.
“Maybe we should go have someone attempt to repair your hair,” I say. “What did you do, chop it off with nail scissors and dunk your head in black ink?”
Haley glowers at me, juts out her chin, and gives a miffed little sniff in my direction.
Sam glances at his watch, then back at me. “Well, we could always run her out to the studio. I need to check in with security and update Jeremy on the police investigation. There’s time enough for her to see a bit of this afternoon’s filming. Of course,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine, “she would have to swear on her mother’s grave she’d then go peacefully with her escort back to New York.”
“I’ll do it!” Haley says, levitating off the seat with joy and leaning forward to grip Sam’s face in her two hands. She smushes his cheeks together and cries, “I just love you! You so get me!”
I’m going to so get her, but it won’t be pleasant and she won’t forget it!
“You’re sure it’s safe?” I ask Sam.
“I think last night’s arrest put an end to that worry. I think we’ve got our man right where he belongs. Dave’s not getting out anytime soon.”
“All right, I guess we can go. But only if you promise to behave,” I say, turning my attention to Haley and grudgingly relenting. “But we’re going to be right back here three hours from now. And you have to call your mother on the way over to the studio and tell her you’re okay and you’re coming home. She’s absolutely sick from worrying about you.”
I give Sam a wicked look. “You know, Sam is Jeremy’s manager, Haley. He taught Jeremy everything he knows about acting.”
That is all it takes. Haley gloms onto Sam, plying him with questions until we arrive at the studio gates. When Andrea rolls onto the lot, Haley becomes even more of a starstruck fan. Her eyes widen and as we climb out of the Jaguar and enter the hangarlike building, she stops talking completely and just stares.
Zoe and Jeremy are standing beside the set, talking in low, angry tones as we approach them.
“I don’t care if it’s a little thing,” she is saying. “We’ll have to shoot it over again.”
Jeremy looks tired. “There’s no point in it. We’re all tired, at least wait until tomorrow.”
Zoe is adamant. “No. You don’t believe in this, you never have!” When Jeremy’s face darkens into a hostile scowl, she backs off and instead begins to plead. “It’s important to me,” she begs. “Can we just call Diane out and have her do the last bit of it with you again?”
Jeremy gives in. “Fine, but you’ll have to tell her. I just left her in your trailer a few minutes ago, she said she was too tired to even get up off the couch and go to her own trailer. She wants to go home and go to bed, but she wanted to talk to you first.”
“This is her last scene. After we shoot it she can sleep forever if she wants, just not yet!”
“Fine. We’ll do it over, but you get to be the one to break the news to her. I’m done playing the heavy. And when Ray wants to know why you’ve gone over budget again, you can be the one to kiss his ass about that, too!”
Jeremy’s face reddens and he seems ready to unload on Zoe, but Sam steps forward between the two.
“Jeremy, I’d like you to meet a new friend of mine,” he says. There is a slight elevation to his voice, a quality that must alert Jeremy to be on his best behavior because the star’s features smooth into a smile almost instantly. He smiles at Haley as he answers Sam.
“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine, pard.” The jovial western accent Jeremy uses with Sam has returned. “Actually, Haley here is a friend of your beloved Porsche’s. She borrowed a Learjet and arrived unexpectedly because she was concerned about your recent close encounter with death.”
“Smashing!” Jeremy cries. His eyes sparkle. “A bit of the hell-raiser, are we then, lovey? S’pose you’d have to be, hanging with the likes of Porsche!” Jeremy seeks me out, smiles adoringly, and shakes his head. “Ah, a woman of beauty,” he sighs. “I am not surprised to learn your friend here is every bit the rosebud of earthly delight that you are, lovey.”
Oh, he’s laying it on thick. I roll my eyes behind Haley’s back and stick my forefinger in my mouth, feigning a gagging motion.
“Oh, honey, really,” I coo. “You’re too, too much!”
Jeremy smiles and is about to say something when a woman’s blood-chilling screams interrupt the relative quiet of the working set. Everyone within earshot freezes, listening to pinpoint the direction of the scream. The sound echoes through the open bay doors leading outside to the trailers. Andrea and Mark come running from the recesses of the building to join the rest of us, along with almost everyone who hears the wailing terror in the screaming woman’s voice.
We reach the outdoor trailers as the door to one silver motor home bursts open and Zoe emerges to stand, screaming, on the top step. When she sees Jeremy her face is transfixed with a combination of horror and rage.
“You killed her! You never were true to us and now you’ve killed the only person I ever loved. Oh, God, Diane!” She looks completely insane, her eyes are wild, her long red curls fly out like Medusa’s snakes and she flails her arms with maniacal abandon, overwrought with grief and shock.
Jeremy, stricken, attempts to go to her, but she lunges for him, forcing Sam to restrain her and motion Jeremy back.
“Call security,” Mark yells, but they are already on the scene and pass the hysterical woman as they run up the steps and into the trailer.
Zoe can’t seem to look away from Jeremy and struggles to escape Sam’s strong grasp. Finally, she is able to loosen one arm which she extends in a grasping, clawlike motion toward Jeremy.
“You will never be safe from me,” she says in a dull, leaden voice. “I will hunt you down and I will kill you.”
Chapter 14
Renee doesn’t care about Diane. I call to report in and Renee is only concerned about Haley. The girl is safely back in New York, so I don’t see what the big deal is, but when Renee asks for details, she seems more inter
ested in what Haley witnessed than the actual crime itself. I can’t believe Renee is allowing herself to be so distracted from my mission. I mean, after all, the brat is safe and if you’re asking me, that kid could witness wholesale slaughter without turning a hair. She was more interested in seeing a dead body than she was afraid because a killer was on the loose.
“The initial examination by the coroner leads the police to think Diane overdosed on some unusually strong cocaine, almost pure.”
“Was Haley there when the coroner arrived?”
I sigh silently and take a calming breath before I answer no.
“Listen, do you think Diane’s death could be tied to the attacks on Jeremy?” I ask. “I’m not as convinced as the cops are that Dave was the only one trying to hurt Jeremy. I’m just wondering if…”
Renee interrupts me. “Emma’s getting out of the hospital in a few days. I’ve got two agents with her at all times and I want to be sure you know not to go see her before I can make sure she’s safe. I don’t want any possible slipups at the last moment.”
I am lying on the bed in my room in Jeremy’s Beverly Hills penthouse, staring up at the ceiling and praying for patience. It has been killing me not to call Emma, of course I remember! After Diane died and after I safely escorted Haley back to LAX, all I wanted was the comfort of my best friend and an ice cold Cosmopolitan.
“What do you want me to do?”
A huge part of me longs to hear her say, “Come on back to New York.” But she doesn’t. Instead she says, “I doubt seriously that Mr. Reins is in any further danger, I think the police have their man. However, I do think perhaps you could stretch your visit out a few more days.” She pauses for a long moment before finishing. “Perhaps you could accompany Emma home on my private jet. I think she could use a little cheering up after all she’s been through.”
My heart sinks when she says “the police have their man.” Renee obviously doesn’t think I was much help and she certainly doesn’t seem to want to hear my theory about Dave’s innocence. But I am overjoyed at the prospect of seeing Emma and flying home with her.
“All right, I’ll talk to Andrea and come up with a plausible reason to hang around. Maybe I’ll go visit my father.”
“That’s fine, dear,” Renee says, but it’s clear that I have been dismissed and her attention is already elsewhere.
After we hang up, I drag around the room, playing with Marlena until I can’t take my own mood any longer and wander out into the living room looking for the distraction of company.
Sam and Jeremy are standing by the huge plate-glass windows, drinks in hand, staring down at the sunset over the hills that surround our corner of Beverly Hills. When I walk into the room, Sam turns, sees me and smiles.
“You look like you could use one of those fancy cocktails you seem to like so much,” he says. “What’ll it be?”
The doorbell to the suite rings, interrupting my response and Sam looks questioningly at Jeremy. “You expecting anyone?”
Jeremy grins. “Relax, guard dog, it’s just Mark and Andrea. I’ll get it.”
He crosses the thickly carpeted room and is at the door before Sam can beat him to it. His body hides the identity of the newcomer, but her voice is unmistakable.
“Jeremy,” Zoe says. “I’m so sorry for the things I said. I was just…” She stops, her voice clogged with sobs, and walks into his arms.
“Oh, lovey,” Jeremy murmurs gently. “I know. I know.”
He ushers her into the foyer and the two of them stand locked in an embrace for a long time. Zoe is crying and Jeremy is stroking her hair gently.
“I loved her so much,” Zoe says in a soft, broken voice. “She completed me. She fit after you and me, after we…”
“Shhh, lovey, it’s all right,” Jeremy soothes. “I know. She was there when I wasn’t any longer. It’s okay.”
Sam and I exchange glances and he motions toward the hallway leading away from the living room.
“We’ll be in the study,” Sam says. Zoe seems not to hear him, but Jeremy meets Sam’s gaze with a brief nod and the two of us disappear.
“Is Zoe just insane?”
Sam turns away from the table where he is pouring bourbon into two glasses and seems to be considering my question. “I don’t know. I’d have to see her sober for more than a few hours at a time to tell you that and even then, who knows with Hollywood people? There are times I’m pretty sure Jeremy’s gone round the bend, but when he’s sober I can still reach inside and find the boy I knew back in Butte.”
Sam hands me a tumbler with an inch of Wild Turkey in it and smiles apologetically. “I know, it’s not a fancy frozen drink with an umbrella, but we’re a bit short on supplies in here.” He takes a long swallow from his glass.
I attempt to sip my bourbon like he does, without coughing and wincing at the acrid, unfamiliar taste. Sam is polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice when my eyes water and my face turns red with the effort. I can’t stop thinking about last night but he seems not to even remember kissing me. We fall into an uncomfortable silence, which makes me nervous, so I drink more of the bourbon. I am beginning to like the warmth that spreads through my body with each sip and think perhaps it’s time to let the cowboy know I’ll be leaving in a few days. The ringing of the suite doorbell interrupts me.
When it rings again, Sam sighs and puts down his glass. “Jeremy must be in the middle of something with Zoe. I’ll get it.”
When he doesn’t return my curiosity gets the better of me and I venture out into the hallway. When I hear Andrea and Mark’s voices I relax and walk toward them. I look at my watch and realize we must all be going to dinner together. Good, I can ditch the bourbon and have a margarita with Andrea. Somehow, when Andrea’s around, everything seems to flow more easily between me and the others. It’s as if she’s my social translator of all things Hollywood.
Mark and Andrea are in the hallway alone. Sam, Jeremy and Zoe are nowhere to be seen. The living room is empty.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” I give Andrea a hug and turn to include Mark, but he has walked off into the living room and appears to be headed for the kitchen.
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
Andrea’s smile is worried. “I don’t know. Sam thought Jeremy was in here with Zoe, but apparently not. He went off to look for them and now he’s gone, too.”
Sam returns, walking away from the hallway leading to my guest room, looking equally perplexed.
“I’ve searched the suite. Jeremy and Zoe must’ve gone off.”
“But I have reservations at Koi. Jeremy’s the one who asked me to make them, said he was dying to go. Do you know how hard it is to get a table there?”
Andrea strokes his arm reassuringly. “Darling, for other people perhaps, but not you.”
Mark is like a well-trained dog, calming immediately under her touch. “Well, I know, but still it took some work.” He peers at his diamond encrusted Rolex and frowns. “Well, should we wait or call his cell and have the two of them meet us there, or what?”
Sam holds up a small cell phone. “He didn’t take his cell. Maybe he’s just stepped down to the bar.”
The two men leave to look downstairs, but an uneasy feeling is beginning to gnaw at my stomach.
“You think something’s happened, don’t you?” Andrea says quietly.
I meet her worried glance and nod. “Do you know where Zoe lives?”
Andrea is already moving toward the door, punching in a number on her cell as she stops to wait for me. “I’ll let Mark know we’re going to ride by Zoe’s.”
This is what I will miss most about Andrea, her ability to read my thoughts and stay fluid. She doesn’t argue or panic, unless of course, her husband’s under a dining table screwing a bimbo, but who wouldn’t panic then?
“Let me grab my purse.” I dart down the hallway, snatch up my little black Fendi clutch, turn to leave and almost squash poor Marlena. She is barring the do
or, hissing and chattering away, leaving no doubt that she intends to be taken along for the ride, or else!
“Honey, Mommy can’t take you.” When Marlena begins circling in and out of my legs, I give up. “All right, but you’ll be bored out of your mind!”
Marlena snuggles across my shoulders and sighs, content just to be traveling with her mother. Andrea gives her a less than pleased once-over but doesn’t say a word about Marlena’s presence as we ride down the express elevator to the garage.
“We’re probably overreacting,” I say at some point along the ride to Zoe’s. “They probably snuck back to her place to get high or get laid before dinner and they’ll be really pissed to see we’ve followed them.”
Andrea shakes her head. “I saw the way she looked at Jeremy after she found Diane’s body. She meant every word she said.”
“Why isn’t Zoe blaming herself then? After all, Diane overdosed in Zoe’s trailer on her cocaine. What does Jeremy have to do with it?”
Andrea just shakes her head as we head up the canyon road to the top of Mulholland Drive. “She told the police it wasn’t her coke, of course, what else could she say?”
Andrea pulls into a short, brick drive and stops in front of a wrought-iron gate. She lowers the window and punches a code into a small metal box. The gates slowly begin to open.
“You have Zoe’s pass code memorized?”
Andrea laughs softly. “It’s no big deal. We’re here so often lately I just do the code automatically. I even have a key, if we need it.” When I look surprised, Andrea shrugs. “Zoe’s needy. She’s always asking Mark to come consult with her on one trumped-up excuse or another. Half the time he brings me along because he says I’m good with her. But trust me, this is the last time he encourages Jeremy to ‘get in on the ground floor’ of a project!”
Zoe lives in a low-slung, rambling Spanish style ranch that is rather plain looking from the outside. As we approach the front door, I catch a glimpse of the pool out behind the house and the view of L.A. from the top rim of the canyon wall. It is breathtakingly beautiful.
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