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High Risk

Page 17

by JLee Meyer


  After Kate calmed to the point of just a few hiccups, Mimi said, “You have to try, Kate. Ask her. Ask Greta. Let them answer for themselves. If the answer is no, then at least you know.”

  “But…Joe swore he’d—”

  “This is your life, not Joe’s. You cannot be his victim. He’ll never stop demanding things from you. There will always be a Joe around, if you allow it. Is that what you want?”

  Kate violently shook her head but had no words. The time for those had passed. Mimi had voiced what had been in her mind for the past week. If Dasher would take her back, they’d find a way together.

  She kissed Mimi on the cheek and stood, helping her to her feet. Looking directly in her eyes, she said, “Thank you. Wish me luck.”

  “I do, sweetheart. I want you in this family. You’re the only person who can heal Dasher’s heart. I hope she knows that, too.”

  She walked out front with Mimi and Jerry and waved good-bye to them. Jerry looked grim but was listening intently to Mimi and fiddling with his phone when they pulled away from the house.

  Kate went to the bathroom and splashed some water on her face. “You still look like shit.” She changed from her sweats to jeans and a top, rubbed the fabric of the precious flannel shirt for luck, grabbed a windbreaker, and was out the door.

  Meeting a welcoming committee was the last thing she had expected today.

  *

  Dasher drove listlessly down the Pacific Coast Highway to her home. She wasn’t looking forward to another dreary evening. She’d tried getting drunk, but all she got for it was a hangover. She busied herself with work, but somehow it didn’t do the trick, either. She was afraid it would be a long time before anything mattered.

  Pulling into the drive, she set the brake, locked the car, and let herself into her house, tossing her keys and the mail from the door slot onto the table beside the door. All she had scheduled today was a meeting with Greta, who’d called earlier and said she would come to Dasher’s house. Dasher had told her about the video, and Greta hadn’t said a word. She left the front door open and the screen door unlocked so Greta could let herself inside.

  Picking up the mail, she shuffled into the main room of her small house, dividing the mail into junk and business. But a sudden movement outside caught her attention and she looked out the slider in back. Her breath caught in her chest. A woman was walking from the oceanfront toward her house. She couldn’t distinguish her features yet, but she recognized the walk. She had spent so many restless nights dreaming about that walk.

  She told herself she was just wishing it to be the way she had fantasized for so long. This was the tenth time she’d imagined some stranger to be Kate. Maybe one day she’d stop doing that.

  Still, she couldn’t resist hurrying out to her deck to get a better look. The woman stopped, then slowly removed her baseball cap, allowing her blond hair to billow in the breeze. Next came her sunglasses and there stood Kate.

  After keeping her arms crossed for a second or two, Dasher lowered them. God help her, she was so desperate to hold Kate, touch her. Kate took a few more tentative steps toward her, then broke into a run, slowed only by the sand slipping through her toes.

  Dasher was off the deck in an instant. Kate took a final leap and landed squarely in Dasher’s arms, sending them toppling over into a heap.

  Breathless, she managed, “Dasher, I love you. Never leave me again.”

  They rolled around and, between kisses, Dasher was able to say “never” about a hundred times. Finally, covered in sand, Dasher looked at Kate and said, “I thought you left me.”

  “Details.” Kate whooped and pulled Dash up to a standing position. Off to their left they heard the telltale sound of a camera shutter and turned to see Chaz Hockaday, shooting away. Michael stood behind him holding some equipment bags.

  “Give me the camera.” Dasher had had enough.

  Looking offended, Chaz said, “Now, now, you know I can’t do that. These shots will—” He took off like a flash when Dasher lunged, but only got about twenty feet before he ran into a brick wall by the name of Jock Reynolds.

  “Chaz Hockaday, isn’t it? Fancy meeting you here.” With that she snatched the Nikon from his hands.

  “Hey! That’s private property.”

  “No, you are on private property. That means if Ms. Pate wants to press trespassing and harassment charges, she can. Do you have any idea how much Malibu residents value their privacy?”

  A small shriek behind them revealed that Denny Phelps had surprised Michael and was confiscating all of his equipment. Chaz started toward them. “Leave him alone!”

  Kate looked between the two men. Of course. “Are you two a couple?”

  Michael looked hopefully at Chaz, who said, “Yes, we are. So what?”

  Seeing the joy on Michael’s face, Kate filled in quite a few blanks. She glared squarely at Chaz and said, “Well, you’re a disgrace to your…your…sexual orientation, that’s what.”

  All eyes were on her. She needed time to think and marched through their group to Dasher’s house. Stopping at the door, she dusted herself free of some of the sand that now filled all her orifices and entered, waving imperiously for them to follow. Ah, bravado, works every time. She was nervous because so much was at stake, but she refused to let anyone see her fear. Hollywood had taught her a few lessons very well.

  Everyone mutely followed and soon they were all sitting in the main room, the two men fidgeting. Jock looked formidable, having chosen to prop herself against the wall next to the sliding doors with her hands stuffed in her pockets and wearing an intense expression on her handsome features. Denny discreetly put herself into position to head off the intruding men should they try to run out the front door.

  Kate asked Dasher to order some pizza and beer for all of them, thinking that might relax everybody. She was thoroughly prepared to stuff the pizza down their gullets whole if her ploy failed. Dash gave her a quizzical look, scratched her head, releasing some sand of her own, and picked up the phone.

  Kate sat down and got to the point. “How long have you known Joe Alder?”

  Chaz folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  Sharpening her glare she said, “Dasher, would you call the police to report a trespass and stalking?”

  The phone still in her hand, Dasher said, “Alrighty,” and started punching in numbers.

  Michael yelped, “Wait! Chaz, Joe Alder isn’t worth jail time. We’ve only done this one job for him. We had to follow you and get any sensational material we could.”

  “Mikey! We have client confidentiality!”

  “He’s an awful man and you know it.” To the group he said, “We’ve checked him out with the other reporters. He’s done stuff like this before, but I swear we didn’t help him.”

  Stepping closer, Jock loomed over the two men. “He’s threatening to destroy Kate and Dasher’s careers, and he’s planning to use your photos to do it. All because they love each other. And you’re going to let him?”

  Chaz looked down at his hands. “This was our last stakeout, I swear. We’d even talked about just lying and saying we didn’t find anything. He’s not that interested in you anymore, Miss Hoffman. Now it’s all about Miss Pate. He talks like he can call all the shots from now on.”

  Shock must have registered on Kate’s face because Dasher was instantly by her side with a hand on her shoulder asking if she was okay. She said, “He was always meaning to come after you, no matter what I did. Why does he hate you so much?”

  From the front door, a familiar voice said, “I can answer that, Kate. Dasher is everything Joe isn’t. She is respected, has A-list stars, and you’re in love with her. She’s on her way up, not clinging to the one actress who still gives him credibility. Worse, she’s homosexual. In his mind, that’s the only thing lower than he is. Besides, more than Dasher, Kate, he’s coming for me.” Greta Sarnoff entered, closed the door, and stood beside it.
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br />   After her dramatic entrance, she sat down and made deliberate eye contact with each person in the room. She lingered on the men, Chaz in particular. With narrowed eyes and a heavier accent than Kate had ever heard her use she said, “If any of this ends up in a rag, I’ll come for you. I’m Russian, don’t doubt me.”

  Chaz and Michael looked like two bobbleheads in their haste to agree.

  “What rumors had you heard of this man Joe Alder?”

  It wasn’t really a question, more a command. Chaz didn’t hesitate. “He used to be in the porn business. We also heard he was weird with young girls.”

  Jock, who had finally sat down, started from her seat. “You knew the sonofabitch was a pedophile and you still worked for him?” The well-defined muscles in her forearms stood out as she gripped the chair arms. Kate thought she might hurl it at the men.

  Chaz held up his hands. “Look, the job didn’t involve kids. The rumors were just that—rumors. The money was so good we…I…took it. Mikey never wanted to do it. Please leave him out of it.”

  Michael inched closer to him and took his hand. “We did it. I went along. I’m so sorry. We’ll give you all the pictures we’ve taken.” He started rummaging through the cases and handing over the memory cards from each camera. Finally, he came to one and stopped. “This one is personal. I want to keep it.”

  “Show it to us or leave it.” From her tone, Dasher was tired of being polite. Michael didn’t bother to argue.

  He shyly smiled and ran a slide show from the digital screen on the back of the camera. They all gasped when they viewed his female persona, who was gorgeous. Delicately boned and completely feminine, she wore a number of different outfits, from elaborate kimonos to rapper gear. In some she appeared childlike.

  “What’s her name?” Kate had seen drag queens, in fact some who appeared as likenesses of herself. This one was very well done.

  Smiling and dropping his eyes, Michael said, “Mei-Lee.”

  Denny softly whistled. “Well, Chaz, I can see the attraction. She’s hot.”

  He stared dreamily. “So is he.” Michael hugged him.

  “So, can we take this card with us?” Kate could tell that Michael was holding his breath.

  “Yes, but I want to double-check the cases.” Denny rooted around but came up empty.

  Michael whispered something to Chaz, and Chaz squeezed his knee. “Listen, we’re pretty sure Joe Alder is still involved in some shady stuff. Once, we made a delivery to his office late at night and saw some very scary dudes drinking with him. We took our money and got the hell out of there.”

  Greta, who had been silent, nodded and said, “I’m sure what they say is true.”

  Watching her, Dasher said, “Greta, when we were at the directors’ dinner you handled him with such ease. You told me you had dealt with men like him before. Do you actually know him?”

  Overwhelming sadness filled her eyes and made Kate want to hold her. But Dasher was already on the way. She took her hand and all were silent. The gentle act of kindness made Kate love Dasher more.

  Greta said, “I saw the film clip that Dasher told me about because Joe decided to send me a copy, too. I was thirteen, alone and starving on the streets in Russia. I was brought to the USA as an ‘adopted’ child by a couple, but really I was their slave, in every way. They made several movies with various men. Sex for food, you get the understanding.”

  The contents of Kate’s stomach were threatening to rebel. She saw the same expression on everyone’s face. Horror and revulsion, but more than that, compassion.

  Thankfully, the pizza and beer arrived, and Kate immediately said, “I’ll get it.”

  Denny raised her hand to stop Kate. “No. If someone recognizes you, we’re all screwed. I’ll get it.”

  She dug money from her pocket and stuffed it into the delivery boy’s hand as the rest of them stretched or walked around the room.

  Kate knew that now wasn’t the time to lose her cool. She passed beer and napkins around and they quietly continued their discussion, but with a decidedly less hostile bent toward Chaz and Michael.

  Greta continued in a monotone. “One of the men in those films was Joe Alder. In fact, since it was in his possession, perhaps it was him in the one he sent us. I’ve blanked a lot of that time out of my memory and was heavily drugged anyway. He took a special liking to me. He must have recognized me, all grown up and filled out. Not his style, really, a fully developed woman. But he wants to control me again. For his own gain, I know.”

  Looking directly at Kate, she said, “Along with the video he demanded that I fire Dasher and sign with him. That’s why I’m here. To tell Dasher I have to go.”

  “You’d work for Joe?” Kate couldn’t believe it. She considered Greta one of the strongest women she’d ever met.

  “Never. I’m leaving, disappearing. I’ve had an escape plan for years. Saved cash, an account in Switzerland under a different name, even the name of a plastic surgeon to change how I look. I’ll die before I go back to him, to them.”

  “Greta, how did you get away when you were a child?” Kate was trying to put it all together.

  “Ha. I walked away. By then I was fifteen and only good for work and keeping the younger ones in line. Then I lived on the streets, much easier in U.S. than Russia, wear clothes from the church bins, save every penny to buy fake identification. I work on films and get discovered by Dasher.” The expression on her face changed from sadness to fierce pride.

  “Now I could afford really good false papers. But I was also able to have my face, mostly my nose, changed. That was good because it was broken several times. And I got perfect American teeth.” She flashed them for the group and they certainly were white.

  Denny breathed, “Jesus.”

  Jock asked, “Why didn’t he come after you before, if he recognized you?”

  “Because I recognized him. I can tie him to child pornography. But now he seems to think he’s got all the chippies on his deck.”

  After exchanging a look with Chaz, Michael said, “Look, if it helps, we did stick around that night and took pictures of the guys leaving his place. We’ll give them to you.” He dug around and ripped out the padded bottom of a case and produced the card. Denny glared at him and he shrugged.

  “We’ll do anything else we can, just name it.” He and Chaz both looked sincere.

  Jock produced a flash drive from her shirt pocket and held it up. “A few of the Elysium members have discreetly hacked his—well, everything of Joe Alder and several of his aliases. He has money in a bunch of places that, according to the IRS, he’s never declared. We can turn him in for tax evasion, if nothing else.”

  If Dasher was surprised by the information she didn’t show it. She quickly said, “Before we do, he has to release Kate from her contract. Greta, if you feel you need to go, I understand. But with your help, we might be able to make it safe for you to stay and get Kate out, too.”

  She smiled sadly. “Of course. I haven’t told my liubov, my dear Jason, about my past. I at least owe him that before I go. Who knows? It may make my leaving easy.”

  Dasher gazed across the room at Kate and smiled. “Or it may make it impossible.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tonight was the big night, on so many levels that Laurel and Stefanie couldn’t keep track. The final week before the opening of the hotel had been a blur of last-minute details and planning. The additional preparations for their scheme to trap Joe Alder had been layered on top of everything else, and no one complained.

  A few of the Elysium members were among the workers, adding some finishing touches to one of the smaller rooms off the main ballroom. It was reassuring to see them there. The entire crew had been working eighteen-hour days, and Kate had joined them three days before.

  Kate invited Joe Alder to the gala and he eagerly accepted because it was a hot-ticket item and, he thought, his crowning moment. He demanded Kate stay clear of Dasher until that night. He had also directed
Greta not to drop Dasher as her agent until the night of the party. He obviously thought his plan was coming together perfectly, and his hatred of Dasher blinded him to anything more than his anticipation of crushing her.

  Greta made a quick and painful trip to Arizona to tell Jason the truth about her past, and he was so upset with Alder they were afraid he’d blow the whole deal by trying to rip Joe’s throat out before they could spring the trap. Greta was ecstatic that he’d reacted that way. Kate suspected that no man had ever cared for her the way Jason did.

  Finally, after Greta talked and pleaded with him at length, and Stefanie and Laurel threatened to have him banned from the event, Jason was on board. He would be Kate’s escort. Joe was enjoying that part, too, because he had let Greta know that Jason would no longer be in her future. He was probably looking forward to a wonderful evening of playing dungeon master.

  Dasher had purchased disposable cell phones for Greta, Jason, Kate, and herself. She confessed that she felt like a paranoid idiot, but she wasn’t about to take a chance. Her future with Kate was riding on the way this night went. With the anonymous cell phones, at least they could talk to each other without worrying about being overheard.

  Every night before the opening they called and brought each other up to date. Dasher went about her business and stayed in touch with the other plan details through Jock or Denny. She met secretly with Chaz and Michael twice to map out their part. Today they’d held a brief dress rehearsal to make sure everyone knew where to go and what to do, and to run a final equipment check.

  Alder told Chaz and Michael to get into the event, no matter how they had to do it. He wanted them to photograph Dasher and Jason when they got the good news. Chaz assured Joe he had an “in” and left it at that. Chaz was scared to death because Michael had been assigned a risky role, but Michael insisted he could do it. He told Kate and Dasher that Mei-Lee would be honored.

  Laurel and Stefanie had been working with Elysium members to nail down the other details. The connections that these women had, both legal and, as they said, extralegal, amazed them. A team of three would be working in Los Angeles while the event was occurring. Although all were curious about who the “three” were, they agreed that the less they knew, the better.

 

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