Coming Soon

by Jo Leigh

  “So he’d lure us into situations that would make us look unreliable or uninsurable, or hell, put us in jail, then make sure he had evidence, courtesy of his pal Gerry Geiger. He figured he owned us, and he was right.”

  “Geiger was working for Weinberg?”

  Danny nodded. “One of the nice little tricks Weinberg had was to make sure Geiger had access to us all. We never knew when Geiger would show up, where he was lurking. I’d come back from the set, and he’d be in my room. Camera at the ready. We all tried to make sure there was nothing going on that was worth photographing, but that never stopped him. He’d manufacture the photo ops.”

  “Like what?”

  “Peter. He was photographed sleeping with a major producer’s underage daughter. Bobbi had a taste for coke and Southern Comfort. She was in a couple of car wrecks. Of course, this was before going to jail was considered a good PR move. Me, well, you can guess.”

  “What about Nan?”

  Danny sat back. Despite all he’d just spilled, Bax could see he wasn’t quite ready to go there.

  “Did you know that Nan was offered a recurring role on one of those Law and Order series?”

  “No shit. Good for her.”

  “She turned it down.”

  Danny chewed on that for a bit. When he spoke again, it was softly, but with a lot of punch.

  “DO YOU KNOW ANYONE at all who can go after her?” Mia stared out the window in the general direction of the Algonquin. It wasn’t that far, for a person who could leave the room.

  “I’ve asked, I’ve cajoled. Sweetie, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “I just can’t… I even called the police station, but Miguel, he’s the guy who e-mailed the pictures, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t reach Bax, either, but he said if he didn’t hear from him within the hour, he’d send out a unit. So now I’m freaked about Bax and about losing Sheila.”

  “Look, if I could—”

  “I’m coming,” Mia said, knowing she had no choice. “Keep her there, okay? Do whatever you have to, just make sure she doesn’t get away.”

  “Mia. What the hell?”

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” She hung up. Gave herself a good talking-to, every reason she should stay put and not follow Sheila. She called Bax one more time, left him yet another urgent message, then went into the bedroom to get changed.

  15

  MIA STEPPED INTO the hallway and found herself facing a very surprised security guard. She smiled brightly. “You’re still here.”

  “Uh, yeah,” the guard said. He was young, early twenties and she hadn’t seen him before.

  “I guess you haven’t heard. They caught her.”

  “Who?”

  “Sorry, I’m just excited. I was so afraid this was going to be a long, drawn-out affair. They caught the woman who took the shot at me. I’m going to the police station right now to make an ID.”

  “Nobody called me.”

  “This all just came down. You should probably call your boss. Anyway, thanks very much for making me feel so safe.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She headed down the hall after a brief wave and another smile. “Have a good day.”

  Maintaining her happy demeanor was tough while she waited for the elevator. Not because she’d just lied to the nice man, but because she had no desire to die. She’d gone over her plan several times, although one more time wouldn’t hurt. She was going to the Algonquin, then she would follow Sheila at a very safe distance just until she heard from Bax. He’d zoom to her side, take her place, and she’d be back at Hush with no one the wiser. Except the security guard. That wasn’t a big issue. She’d simply say that she’d been misinformed, sorry for the confusion.

  No, the big issue had to do with being shot.

  The big question was if she was being a complete moron.

  Several stops later, she landed in the lobby. This was it, either she turned around right now, or hurried like hell.

  If she turned back, they’d lose sight of Sheila. Which meant they’d have no idea where she was heading with that big suitcase. Mia would bet everything that suitcase was full of photos. Pictures that would solve the case.

  Could she live with herself if she let those slip away?

  She headed for the garage, although she didn’t go to the northern exit. Instead, she hurried to Madison Avenue. All she had to do was get to East 44th Street, then turn left. A few blocks and she’d be at the Algonquin. Maybe by then, Bax would have called her back.

  The film company was still there but they must have been shooting downstairs because none of the actors’ chairs were around. There was a coffee setup, though, probably for the crew members who were waiting in their trucks for something to happen. She wondered if she’d spoken to, say, the script supervisor, maybe the whole mystery of the blackmail would have been revealed. If movie crews were anything like hotel staff, then they knew everything and then some.

  She kept going, walking, jogging, but mostly walking because when she hit the pavement too hard it made her head hurt.

  On East 44th, she stopped at a drugstore and bought herself a floppy-brimmed hat. It was actually pretty cute, and in concert with her sunglasses, she was relatively incognito. At least her bruise wasn’t visible.

  Then she made up for the lost time by mostly jogging until she got to the Algonquin’s front desk and Jenna.

  BAX LEFT DANNY’S TRAILER and headed straight back into the hotel. Danny’s confession had filled in a whole lot of holes. While Bax had known Oscar was up to some bad crap, he’d never considered that Geiger and Oscar were partners. Oscar had manipulated all of their careers, slipped damaging photos to competing directors and producers so that his stars were trapped. He’d nearly destroyed Peter Eccles’s life when the director had threatened to go to the papers.

  But it was Nan’s story that made the case. She’d been involved with the murder in Mexico, and there were photographs that would prove it. Only, Nan hadn’t been the killer. Sure, she’d been stupid, but she hadn’t been a murderer. It all came down to sex games gone bad. Danny didn’t know if the girl who’d been killed had participated willingly, but it didn’t matter. She hadn’t signed up for death.

  As Bax hit the garage entrance door, he listened to his messages from Mia, and then there was nothing else in his head. He speed dialed Mia. The phone rang twice before she picked up. Instead of hello, he heard, “Bax, thank God.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Did you get my calls?”

  “I couldn’t get back to you until now. What’s going on? Why are you whispering? Where the hell are you?”

  “Don’t freak,” she said.

  “Too late.”

  “Listen—”

  “Goddamn it, Mia.”

  “Listen!” she repeated. “I’m at 1560 Broadway near West 46th Street. Meet me here.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Sheila Geiger is here. She’s got a big suitcase with her. It’s the pictures, Bax. All the pictures.”

  “Mia, stop. Do not follow her.”

  “I have to. If we lose the pictures, we lose all the evidence. I’m not going to let that happen.”

  “Ah, Jesus,” he said, breaking out into a run to get to his car. “I don’t give a damn about the pictures. So just stop, okay? Stop and come back here.”

  “She hasn’t seen me. She won’t. I need to find out where she’s going.”

  “You do not. I’m charging Oscar. I’ve got him on blackmail this time, and it’ll stick. He’s going to tell us everything we need to know.”

  “That’s wonderful, but— Wait.”

  He got to his car and as soon as he’d cranked the engine he stuck his light on top of the hood, then he was out of there, listening to her as she paid off her cabbie.

  “Bax?”

  “I’m almost there.”

  “She’s going into the office building. I’m going to find out where she’s headed.”

&n
bsp; “Mia, don’t.”

  “She won’t see me. I swear, Bax. You’ll do all the heavy lifting.”

  “I swear to God, Mia, if something happens to you—”

  “Nothing will.”

  “It can’t. It really can’t. This isn’t going to end like that goddamn Nicholas Cage movie.”

  “What?” she asked.

  He had to get to 5th Avenue to make the turn onto West 41st. Traffic made things difficult.

  “Bax, what about Nicolas Cage?”

  “You know that movie. With Meg Ryan. Nicolas Cage is the angel.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Oh, honey,” she said, still whispering but her voice had gone all mushy. “I’m not going to get hit by a car.”

  “No, but you could get hit by a bullet.”

  “Bax, I’m in the building. I have to hang up now so I can get in the elevator. I’ll call you the second I can. And Bax?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you, too.”

  The phone clicked off and Bax held back the urge to fling it into the windshield. The woman was insane. Stark raving mad. Not the good kind, either.

  She should have stayed where she was safe. Even though he knew she would be careful, there was no way not to worry. If anything bad happened…

  Shit. He really had gone and done it. Fallen in love with her. There was no use kidding himself about it. The die was cast. Him, who hadn’t loved anyone his whole adult life. And he was all set to leave this city behind.

  Only, he wasn’t so sure any more. Because it wasn’t just a city any more. It was her city.

  Goddamn it.

  THE BUILDING HAD TO BE forty stories high, which was a good thing in that there were lots and lots of people Mia could hide behind. But it also meant that she had to do some fancy footwork and a little shoving to get into the elevator with Sheila.

  She kept her head down, her hat low. For comfort, she rubbed her fingers over her cell phone, knowing Bax was just on the other end. Even though the elevator was packed, it stopped three more times, and three more people shoved themselves in. Each time, Mia moved closer to Sheila until she was behind the woman. At the thirty-first floor, she disembarked and Mia realized not just where they were but why. Because they had arrived at the headquarters of the National Tattler.

  BAX PARKED DAMN CLOSE to the entrance of the building.

  The truck he blocked, well, that was just the driver’s bad luck. He had to get to Mia, and he didn’t care what it took. He got to the entrance and looked up. The building seemed as if it went on forever, that there were thousands of people swarming inside.

  He looked at the cell in his hand, willing the damn thing to ring.

  It was horrible, this feeling, as if he could quite literally tear his hair out in frustration. Nothing mattered except Mia’s safety. Nothing.

  The phone rang and it was at his ear in a split second. “Where are you?”

  “Thirty-first floor,” she said, still whispering. “The offices of the National Tattler.”

  He’d bought a few copies of that one. It was particularly sensational, but the quality of the pages had been one of the best.

  “Get out. Now that I know where she is, I’ll take over.”

  “Uh, Bax? Don’t freak.”

  He slammed his hand on the wall by the elevator. “What now?”

  “Nan’s here, too.”

  “And?”

  “She’s got a gun.”

  MIA REACHED BEHIND HER and sure enough, there was Carlane’s hand to squeeze. The two of them were with eleven others, all of whom were standing by a long, low wall that divided the huge office. On one side there were a large group of desks, some of them with cubicles, some without, but all of them had computers.

  Mia wasn’t paying much attention to anything but Nan. And Nan’s gun. She didn’t look very stable. Not just because her gun hand was shaking, but because of the panic in her eyes.

  Carlane wasn’t much better. Mia could feel the terror in her friend, and there was no way of making it better. It was all her fault, all her stupidity. She’d brought Carlane straight into the middle of madness. If something happened to her, Mia would never forgive herself.

  Unbelievably, it was Sheila who was holding Nan together, despite having had a number of cocktails at the Algonquin. She’d assessed the situation quickly and accurately. Her hands were in the air, and she was speaking slowly and carefully. “Nan, what are you doing? This isn’t what we talked about.”

  “We didn’t talk about you selling me out, either.”

  “Honey, you’ve got it all wrong.”

  Someone in Mia’s group made a move, but Nan swung the gun toward the guy. Carlane gasped, and Mia stepped forward, blocking her friend.

  “Don’t you fucking move!” Nan shouted. “I’ll shoot you as soon as look at you, got it?”

  The guy, who was young and scared, put up his hands and slid back into the pack. They were all standing to the right of Sheila. There was an older man there, too, but it seemed to Mia that he was from the other side of the wall. Management. The people she was huddled with were younger. And more frightened.

  Nan pulled the gun back toward Sheila. “You think I’m stupid.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  “Everyone always thinks I’m stupid. Well, I guess you’re right, because out of all you disgusting leeches, I’m the one going down for this. You’re the one who wanted Gerry murdered. You’re the one who had the brilliant idea of shooting the concierge. You’re so freakin’ smart, that you figured you’d let me take the fall and you’d walk away with your money and your house and you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Too late, bitch. You think Oscar’s the only one who knows how to tape conversations? You think Gerry’s the only one who took pictures? I’ve got news for you. You’re toast. You’re history. You’re not selling one picture of me, not one, you understand?”

  The elevator dinged, and everyone turned. Including Nan. A heavyset woman walked out, saw the gun, then turned straight around and got back in the car.

  Nan didn’t miss a beat. She faced Sheila. “Give me that case, Sheila.”

  “We can work this out, Nan. There’s enough for both of us. We’ll make a fortune. You can finally get out from under that bastard’s thumb. Isn’t that what we said? Isn’t that what you wanted? It can all happen now, if we just stay calm.”

  “How’d she find out about Mexico? Huh? What did you tell her?”

  “Who, that girl from the hotel? It doesn’t matter. She must have seen something about the film in one of the old articles, that’s all.”

  “That girl from the hotel? Are you blind? Do you know who her boyfriend is?”

  “What?”

  “The cop, you idiot. That homicide detective is shagging that girl from the hotel. So now he knows about Mexico, too. But then, that’s probably no surprise to you.”

  “Nan, come on. Look, if we leave now, before the police get here, we can make a deal. A good deal, okay? Nobody will go to jail. Nobody will ever know what happened in Mexico.”

  Nan was shaking now, and crying. She wiped her face with the back of her left hand, then put it back on the butt of the gun. “Oh, shut up. You think I would ever believe a word that came out of your mouth? Mexico is nothing compared to all this, and you know it.”

  She waved the gun around as if she didn’t remember it was in her hand. Mia ducked along with her fellow hostages, and that’s when she saw it. The woman next to her was holding her cell phone, pointing it toward Nan. The woman next to that woman was doing the same thing.

  Mia turned and sure enough, everyone in the group had some kind of recording device in their hands. Were they crazy? Any second Nan Collins could jump off the deep end, and they were recording for the six-o’clock news? But then, that’s what they did here, wasn’t it? Record other people’s pain? Their shame? They took delight in th
e capturing the worst of humanity, so why wouldn’t they be enjoying this?

  She didn’t give a damn. All she wanted was to get Carlane out of there in one piece. She wanted Bax, and she wanted to be back in the hotel. She wanted to be in his arms, in his bed. No way she could die up here, right? Bax knew she was in trouble. Right this second he was probably outside the door, ready to swoop in and save the day.

  “Mia,” Carlane whispered, her voice trembling harder than her hand. “Please, I’m no good at this.”

  “He’ll be here.”

  “When?”

  “Any second. I promise.”

  “He has to be. I just can’t stand this.” Her terrified voice rose, and Mia tried to pull her down, but it was too late.

  Nan turned on them, focusing on Carlane. “You can’t stand this?” She walked toward them, her too-large gun pointing straight at Carlane. “You’re just as much to blame as she is,” Nan said, pointing back at Sheila. But then the gun returned. “You people make me sick. All you care about is your headlines, your sick pictures. The way you destroy lives, you think I have any qualms about destroying yours? I would be doing the world a favor to shoot every one of you.”

  Nan took another step forward and Carlane made a desperate sound. Mia had to act, and she had to do it now. She stood up, took her hat off. “You don’t want her. She’s nothing. She doesn’t even work here.”

  Nan stared at her, and as recognition dawned, her face reddened. Mia prepared herself for the shot. She moved to the side, just enough that the bullet wouldn’t pass through her and hit Carlane.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “I came to tell them,” Mia said, pulling hope out of thin air, “that Oscar Weinberg’s been arrested. For blackmail.”

  “What?”

  Mia took a deep breath, then let go of Carlane’s hand. She moved forward, closer to Nan. “We found all his tapes. All his memory cards. The police have everything they need to take him down. They’re not after you, Nan. They know about Mexico, but there’s nothing they can do about it. You’re off the hook. It’s all about Weinberg, not you.”