Dangerous Kiss

by Jackie Collins

  Teddy had been smuggled into the courtroom earlier. Price had not wanted his son subjected to the glare of the media. As it was, Price had read things about himself that even he couldn’t begin to believe.

  Howard had suggested that Ginee arrive with him. ‘No way,’ Price had argued. ‘I’m not gettin’ photographed with that greedy user.’

  ‘It’s good for your image,’ Howard had said. ‘She’s a big fat mama. Every fat woman across America will identify with her.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ Price had responded. ‘Nobody wants to identify themselves with Ginee. They all wanna look like Whitney Houston. I am not being photographed with her. Don’t even think about it.’

  ‘You have to sit next to her in the courtroom,’ Howard had pointed out.

  ‘Fine. I’ll do that. Shit! I’m payin’ her to be there.’

  The criminal defence attorney they’d hired, Mason Dimaggio, was one of the best in Los Angeles. Price was more than satisfied. A large, imposing man with florid features, Mason was a character. He was always a sartorial delight in a three-piece, pinstriped suit, and a large cowboy hat. The suit and the hat made for an incongruous combination, but Mason seemed to know what he was doing, and he had an impeccable reputation. He’d gotten off twin sisters who’d shot their uncle just so they could borrow the uncle’s Ferrari for the night. He’d also pleaded the case of a female serial killer, who’d murdered three rich old husbands. Somehow or other, he’d made it look like they’d asked for it, and his client had walked.

  ‘Don’t worry about a thing,’ Mason had informed Price at their first meeting. ‘It’ll cost you, but I can assure you your boy will be walking.’

  ‘The sooner this is over and done with, the better,’ he’d responded.

  ‘We got the case on an accelerated schedule,’ Mason had said with an expansive smile. ‘Can’t do more than that.’

  ‘What about the girl?’

  ‘Mila Kopistani has a court-appointed lawyer. He takes care of her, and I take care of Teddy.’ A confident smile. ‘Now, I ask you, Mr Washington, who do you think will come out of this smelling like Madonna on a good day?’

  * * *

  Teddy knew he must look like the geek of all time. They had him in some kind of Brooks Brothers button-down white shirt and a dark blue suit. They’d also insisted that he get a real short haircut. And Mason Dimaggio had forced him to wear glasses, giving him the studious, serious image they were obviously going for.

  ‘When you’re on that witness stand,’ Mason had informed him, in his loud, booming voice, ‘you make sure you talk nicely at all times. No jive talk, no slang.’ A long meaningful pause. ‘And no black talk.’

  ‘What’s black talk?’ Teddy had asked rudely, not sure if he liked the overbearing, bossy attorney.

  ‘I think you know what I mean,’ Mason had answered. ‘If you listen to me at all times, you’ll walk away, Teddy, and the girl will stay in jail. But you start screwing with what I tell you, boy, and it could be you who ends up in jail. Remember, initially their sympathy will be with her.’

  ‘Why’s it gonna be with her?’ he’d asked. ‘She’s the one who did it.’

  ‘That’s what you say. And, fortunately, so does Lennie Golden. But it’s just you and him against this poor little white girl who’ll come into court looking as innocent as apple pie. And never forget – you’re black and this is America.’

  Teddy, who’d never experienced racism, had no real idea what Mason was getting at. But he was prepared to obey him, because Price had impressed upon him that he was fighting for his life, and therefore he realized the seriousness of the situation.

  There were times, though, when he couldn’t help wondering what was going through Mila’s head. She’d been locked up in jail for a while. Was she frightened like he was? Or was she braving it out in her usual sassy way? He’d been dying to ask Irena how she was doing, but Price had forbidden him to talk to Irena about anything.

  ‘I really shouldn’t keep her,’ Price had griped, ‘but my life would fall apart without her.’

  After his one meeting with his mother, Teddy had expected her to call, or at least ask to see him again before they landed up in court. She didn’t do either. That one visit was it.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Price enter the courtroom. He was grateful his father was there, for he knew what an ordeal it must be for him to brave the photographers and news crews milling around outside.

  Shortly after Price arrived, Ginee made her own flamboyant entrance. She had ignored Mason and Howard’s advice about how she should look, and was all done up in a leopard-skin jumpsuit, an outfit that emphasized every one of her overly ample curves. Over it she wore a shaggy red shawl, huge red plastic earrings, and a this-is-my-moment-in-the-sun smile on her overly made-up face.

  Teddy heard Mason mutter curses under his breath. Then Mason and Howard huddled in a furious discussion.

  Oblivious to the fuss her entrance had caused, Ginee settled in next to Price. ‘I was gonna bring my little doggy,’ she confided to her uninterested ex-husband, ‘only some dunce told me dogs aren’t allowed in here. Asshole!’

  Price threw her a glare. ‘Didn’t the lawyers instruct you to dress down?’

  ‘You think I wanna look like some kinda skank for all those photographers outside?’ she countered. ‘This could be a big moment for my career.’

  ‘What career?’

  ‘You’re not the only one with a goddamn career, Price. After we split I took up singing. An’ I have quite a voice.’

  ‘Singing?’ he said, choking back his amazement. ‘You can’t even carry a tune.’

  ‘That’s what you think,’ she replied smugly. ‘Truth is, I got a real Diana Ross thing goin’, an’ plenty of people know it.’

  ‘The whole point of you being here,’ Price said, curbing his irritation, ‘is to give Teddy a united family image. Right now you look like you wandered in off Hollywood Boulevard.’

  ‘Screw you!’ Ginee snapped. ‘I’m here, ain’t I?’

  ‘You’re here ’cause I’m payin’ you to be here,’ he muttered. ‘Dress down tomorrow, or don’t bother comin’.’

  ‘Screw you!’ she repeated.

  Price clenched his jaw. Last night he’d heard from his agent that his upcoming movie had been put on hold indefinitely. Fuck the movies! Who needed to be a movie star? He made his living with on-the-edge comedy. There should be plenty of material from this little adventure by the time they were finished.

  * * *

  Sitting in the van on the way to the courthouse, Mila was thinking about Maybelline and what they’d agreed.

  ‘Consider this,’ Maybelline had said a few days earlier. ‘You got one witness saw you do it. And then you got Teddy. Now, if that one witness wasn’t around, who’ve you got? Just Teddy. It’ll be you against him. White girl, black boy. Who do you think’ll win?’

  ‘I thought of that,’ Mila said. ‘When they posted the big reward, I was planning on hiring someone to put a hit on Lennie Golden. My bad luck I left it too late.’

  ‘You should’ve known me then,’ Maybelline said slyly. ‘I could’ve helped out.’

  ‘Yeah, well, now there’s no more reward.’

  ‘You got money?’ Maybelline asked, sucking on her hair.

  ‘Me? I’m broke.’

  ‘Can you get any?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Your mom works for Price Washington. His house is probably full of stuff. He must have a safe filled with jewellery and cash. Y’ know black dudes always keep a lotta cash around, it’s kind of their thing ’cause they’re raised in the ghetto with no money.’

  ‘There is plenty of stuff around the house,’ Mila said, thinking about it. ‘Price has an expensive watch collection and, yeah, there’s a safe in his dressing room.’

  ‘Well, then,’ Maybelline said. ‘So if you were free, you could get your hands on plenty. Y’ know, steal his crap an’ make a run for it. Hang out in Mexico unt
il everything cools down.’

  ‘Right,’ Mila agreed.

  ‘Or, even better, you could draw me a map of the house and tell me how to work the alarm. And you could share with me exactly where the safe is.’

  ‘So you could—’

  ‘Have someone break in.’

  ‘What would be in it for me?’

  ‘I’ve got this great plan,’ Maybelline said. ‘My brother will whack Lennie Golden for you.’

  There was a short silence while Mila digested this information.

  ‘It’d be cool,’ Maybelline continued. ‘My brother knows what he’s doing.’ Another pause. ‘You into it?’

  Mila’s mind was spinning. Only Lennie Golden could finger her. Teddy didn’t count. She nodded wordlessly, excited and sick all at the same time.

  ‘I’ll ask Duke,’ Maybelline said, as casually as if she was asking him to stop by the supermarket. ‘He’ll go down to the courthouse when the trial starts, follow Lennie home an’ blow him away. It’s that simple.’

  ‘I like it,’ Mila said, a chill coursing through her veins. ‘Do you think your brother will do it?’

  ‘Why not? He’s got nothing else going for him right now. And Duke’ll do anything for me. Did I tell you we’re twins?’

  ‘No, you didn’t tell me that.’

  ‘We think alike, look alike. This’ll be a blast.’

  And then, because it seemed that Maybelline was the only person on her side, she told her about the gun with Teddy’s prints on it.

  ‘What?’ Maybelline said, eyes bugging. ‘You’ve got evidence like that and you haven’t told your lawyer?’

  ‘I don’t trust him,’ Mila said. ‘But if Duke can get the gun, and keep it until I’m sure, that’d work for me.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Maybelline said, deciding that this current scenario could work in their favour. ‘He can do that. All you’ve got to do is tell me where it’s hidden . . .’

  So Mila had told her. Then she’d drawn a map of the house, pinpointing the alarm system and the safe. She’d also given Maybelline the alarm code.

  Now, sitting in the van on her way to court, she wasn’t sure if Maybelline wasn’t all talk.

  Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  She’d soon see.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Brigette thought she was going insane. She’d never known a feeling like this in her life. It was as if her entire body had been taken over by a million demons, and every inch of her screamed aloud for relief.

  Carlo had left her in the middle of nowhere. A pregnant woman hooked on heroin.

  ‘I’ll be back in a few hours with a doctor and a nurse,’ he’d promised, the day after they’d arrived at the lodge.

  ‘Why are you leaving me?’ she’d asked, nervous about being by herself in the deserted house with no heating or electricity.

  ‘Because, as I told you before, I have to bring them here myself. This place is impossible to find.’

  Now it was a week later and she’d gone through a living hell.

  At first she’d been calm, not realizing what lay ahead. She’d wandered around the ramshackle house, and after a while she’d curled up on a bed and tried to take a nap.

  When she awoke she was horrified to find it was early morning and Carlo had still not returned. She’d immediately panicked, for she had already begun to crave the drugs that saw her through each day.

  She felt nauseous – nothing new about that, for it was the same feeling she experienced every morning before getting her first shot.

  Later in the day the pains started to come. Shooting pains that racked her body, followed by excruciating cramps, diarrhoea, sweating and even more nausea.

  By the next day she was screaming aloud, even though there was nobody around to hear her.

  Weak and faint, her skin crawling, she’d yelled curses at Carlo for failing to return, realizing the bastard had tricked her. There was no doctor or nurse on their way to help her through this. She was on her own.

  As each day passed, she’d wanted to die. But because of the baby growing inside her, she’d forced herself to stay sane.

  On the fourth day, racked with agonizing cramps, weak and dehydrated, she’d begun to haemorrhage. Hours later she’d lost the baby.

  The pain of the miscarriage was indescribable. Dazed and bloodied, she’d lain on the floor, too weak to move, and thought she was dying. In fact, death would’ve been a welcome relief.

  After a long while she’d managed to crawl into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water to take a few sips.

  I will live, she vowed. I will survive.

  And after that she’d slowly started to regain her strength and sanity.

  The baby was a boy. She’d buried him under an olive tree in the garden and said a little prayer.

  She wondered how many days or weeks Carlo would leave her alone in the lodge. He’d probably checked into it, discovered how long it would take before she was even vaguely normal.

  Allowing her to go through this withdrawal by herself was the lowest thing he could have done.

  What if she’d died? Would it matter to him?

  No. Why should it? He was her legal husband, and as such he’d inherit plenty.

  That’s when she started thinking that maybe he had no intention of ever coming back.

  Then she thought, No, he’s too smart to do that. He might be accused of murder.

  One thing she knew above all else, Carlo was capable of anything. And it was imperative that she get away from him, otherwise her life was over.

  Chapter Seventy

  Lucky arrived outside the courthouse to be greeted by a blinding barrage of flashbulbs. To her horror she was becoming the tabloids’ favourite. Journalists were digging into her life like maggots feasting on a rotting carcass.

  Their latest story was all about her teenage marriage to Craven Richmond, son of Senator Peter Richmond. Since Craven himself was now a senator in Washington, Lucky could just imagine his embarrassment at this revelation. Not to mention hers – Craven was a major jerk.

  She had nothing to hide. She’d always lived her life in a very upfront, honest way. Unlike Lennie, who was really pissing her off with the way he was carrying on. It was driving her crazy that he’d set up housekeeping with the Sicilian girl in the Chateau Marmont. She had her spies, she knew exactly what was going on, and it didn’t please her.

  What was Lennie thinking? This was no way to win her back. Claudia had come looking for him. Did that mean he’d had to move in with her?

  Was he sleeping with the girl? Lucky couldn’t believe he’d be so blatant.

  He kept on calling, insisting that he wanted her back.

  If he wanted her back so badly, why didn’t he get rid of Claudia? He could give her money, and put her on a plane back to Italy where she and the kid belonged.

  Then, of course, there was the Sicilian girl’s identity to take into consideration. Lucky had found out that she was Donatella Bonnatti’s niece, which made her part of the Bonniatti family. Surely Lennie realized this? Wasn’t that enough to tell him something?

  Now Lennie had a son who was connected to the Bonnattis. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  Their own children missed him, they asked about him every day. Lucky had told them he was on location, and that they’d have to get used to the fact that Daddy wasn’t coming home any time in the near future.

  She wanted a divorce. She’d made up her mind. There was no going back, she was too hurt by his behaviour.

  Alex was being a real pain. He kept trying to remind her that they’d slept together once. How often did she have to tell him that at the time she’d truly believed Lennie was dead? Plus the fact that she’d been completely drunk and barely remembered the entire episode.

  Alex was causing other problems. On the movie he was treating her like someone he could boss around. If this was how he behaved when involved in production, it was no wonder he had such a terrible reputation for being an ogr
e on the set.

  Alex Woods. Troubled genius. Well, he needn’t try his little Star Director tricks with her, because she refused to take it.

  Casting on Seduction was in full swing, and although she hated missing a moment of the action, Steven needed her support in court, and naturally she was there for him.

  She also had Brigette on her mind. There was something very troubling about her situation. Why had she and Carlo left LA so abruptly? What was the deal with the way Brigette looked?

  After thinking it over, Lucky had contacted her former bodyguard, Boogie, who now lived on a farm in Oregon, and persuaded him to track down Brigette and find out exactly what was going on. ‘It’s important, Boog,’ she’d said, luring him out of retirement. ‘You have to take care of it for me.’

  Over the years Boogie had been a friend and confidant and she trusted him implicitly. He’d left for Europe several days ago.

  Her handsome brother was waiting when she arrived.

  ‘Hey, babe,’ she said, kissing him on the cheek. ‘Are we holding up?’

  Steven nodded. ‘We’re holding up.’

  Lately she’d noticed a new ease about him, which made her think he might have a woman in his life. It was just a hunch, because he certainly hadn’t said a word. ‘Don’t rush into anything,’ she wanted to warn him. ‘Take your time.’

  But who was she to give lectures on relationships?

  * * *

  The deputy DA was a woman, Penelope McKay, early forties, attractive and business-like. Steven liked her, because although she presented a cool, calm exterior he knew her to be a tough one.

  She nodded at Steven when he entered the courtroom. He nodded back. He knew he would not be called as a witness today because the first day of the trial was a settling-in period when both sides presented their opening statements.

  He noticed Mary Lou’s family sitting together in the middle of the courtroom, her mother, aunt and various cousins. He hadn’t brought Carioca with him, because although he knew it was a good move as far as the jury was concerned, it was also bad for Carioca. He didn’t want her exposed to the media circus this early on. In fact, he was seriously considering not bringing her at all.