missed them in jail.
Later he drove down Melrose, stopped at a store and bought himself a
new Stetson and some sharp-looking leather boots. He handed the sales
clerk a check that would bounce, but he'd be long gone by the time they
discovered it was no good.
He admired himself in a full-length mirror. Still looked good. Still
had that lean body and handsome face. Nobody would guess where he'd
been for the last eleven years. He could do with a suntan. Didn't
have time to wait to get one. Shame.
By three o'clock in the afternoon he was ready to start the action.
He knew exactly where Cyndra's house was. He drove up into the hills,
through the winding streets, until he reached her security gates.
Then he leaned out his car window and pressed the entry buzzer.
A man's voice said, "Yes?"
"Cyndra?"
"No, she's not here. Who is this?"
"I'm here to see Cyndra," he said.
"I just told you, mister, she's not home."
"Then I'll wait."
"Who are you?"
Should he spoil the surprise? Tell this moron that he was her
husband?
No, it was better to c6nfront her face to face.
"I'm a relative," he said. "What time will she be back?"
"I can't reveal that information. Leave a note in the mailbox and I'll
see she gets it."
What kind of garbage was this? He wasn't leaving any note. He drove
the car half a block away, turned it around and sat in it waiting and
watching.
After a while a fancy white limousine drove down the street and turned
into the gates.
Reece started his car, and as soon as the gates opened he followed the
limo in, thinking to himself how stupid these people in Hollywood were
if they actually thought a pair of fancy gates were enough to keep
anybody out.
He foll6wed the limousine up a long driveway until they reached the
grand entrance to an imposing mansion.
A driver got out of the limo, noticed Reece's car behind him and rushed
over.
"Can I help you?" the driver said.
The back door to the limo opened and a man that Reece recognized as
Cyndra's supposed husband got out. "Hey, Clyde, what's going on?" the
man called.
"I'm looking into it," Clyde replied, embarrassed because he was at
fault for not noticing the car before.
Reece got out of his car. "I'm here to see Cyndra," he said.
"I'm sure you are," Clyde replied, very hostile. "A lot of people
would like to see her. If it's an autograph you want, leave your
address and we'll see you get one.
"You don't understand," Reece said. "I'm a relative."
Marik walked over. "What's going on here?" he said.
"I want to see Cyndra," Reece said.
"You shouldn't follow people onto private property. We're going to
have to call the police."
"I don't think you'll want to do that," Reece said.
"Look, man," Marik said patiently. "I know you're a fan and you love
her. A lot of people love Cyndra-but you cannot follow her into her
private home. Get it? Now I suggest you get back in your car and
leave immediately, and we'll forget about this."
"You don't recognize me, do you?" Reece said.
"No," Marik said. "I don't."
"Think back," Reece said. "And fuckin' weep. I'm Cyndra's husband."
Cyndra had been crying on and off for hours. In the back of her mind
she'd known the good life could not last. One moment she had
everything she'd ever wanted, and the next Reece Webster came back like
a ghost from the past to ruin it all.
At first she'd tried to deny she knew him. She'd gotten out of the
limo, stared him in the face and said, "I don't know this man. I've
never seen him before."
"Hey, bitch," Reece had taunted. "Would you sooner I went to the
newspapers with this? I'm giving you the courtesy of coming here
first."
They went into the house and the story began to unfold. How she'd
married him. How he'd used her. And then Vegas. "She shot a guy,"
Reece said. "Shot him stone cold dead."
"I didn't do it-you did it," she said accusingly.
ùMarik looked from one to the other and shook his head. Then he stared
at Cyndra with hurt eyes. "Why didn't you tell me, baby?"
Her world was crumbling. "Cause I never thought Reece would come
back."
"Here I am," said Reece. "Would've been here sooner-'cept I got put in
jail on a false charge, that's where I've been."
"What do you want?" Marik asked.
"Why, I would imagine that's pretty obvious," Reece said, taking in the
luxurious surroundings. "I want my wife back."
"Let's talk straight here," Marik said grimly. "What do you really
want?"
"Well," Reece said, tilting his Stetson at a rakish angle. "If I
can'thave the little lady, then I guess I'll have to be compensated for
my loss."
"Yes," Marik said. "I understand you want money. And Cyndra wants her
freedom. We'll pay. And the money will buy a quiet divorce.
One thing about this Marik guy-he certainly wasn't stupid. "How much
you got in mind?" Reece said.
Marik glanced at Cyndra. She was too upset to look at him. "We have
to discuss it," he said. "In private. I'll talk to my lawyer and
we'll come back to you with an offer."
"It better be a big offer," Reece said. "Oh, and by the way, I thought
I might pay me a visit to Nick Angel."
"What's Nick got to do with this?" Cyndra snapped.
"He helped you out, didn't he, sweetheart?" Reece said slyly. "I saw
what happened that night. You thought I left, but I didn't-I stuck
around, followed' you. So, y'see, I know exactly what went on. You
took that good old boy out into the desert and buried him. You're all
as guilty as hell. I think Nick Angel will want to contribute to my
future well-being, don't you?"
"Leave him out of this, Reece. We'll make a deal, but leave Nick
out."
"Now, now, don't go getting upset."
Cyndra's mouth twitched dangerously. If she had a gun she'd blow his
head off. All her life she'd been a victim, and now, just when she'd
thought she was through with being victimized, this creep had to come
back to haunt her with his threats.
"Calm down, Cyndra. We'll settle this," Marik said, taking charge.
"We're not talking pennies here," Reece said warningly.
"I understand," Marik replied.
"When will I hear from you people?" Reece asked."
"Tomorrow," Marik said. "Where are you staying?
"Give me a thousand bucks cash for now, an' I'll contact you
tomorrow.
"I don't have that much cash."
"What do you have?"
"Five hundred."
"It'll do."
As Marik was escorting Reece to the front door, Topaz came running out
of her room. "Mommy! Mommy! Look at my new dress.
Isn't it pretty?"
Reece stopped. "Yeah, sugar, that's real pretty. You're the image of
your mama.
Cyndra turned on him, her dark eyes stormy. "Stay away from her.
Get out of my house and stay away from my family
."
He shrugged. "Trouble with you, Cyndra, is you got no appreciation.
Who gave you singing lessons, taught you how to dress an' fix your
hair? You were nothing when I found you hanging out in New York.
Now you're a big star. I expect plenty of compensation for all I
did."
"You'll get it. I told you that," said Marik.
Cyndra rushed over to Topaz and picked her up. "Come here, sweetie.
"Bye, little girl," said Reece, waving. "See you around."
She ran upstairs with Topaz and tried to call Nick in New York. He was
out. She left a message with Harlan for him to call her back.
Then she went to her closet and searched behind her clothes for the
secret compartment where she kept her most valuable possessions.
There, alongside her diamond necklace and earrings, was a small
pearl-handled gun. One of her security guards had given it to her as a
gift. He'd told her how to use it, too.
"Never hurts for a lady to have a gun," he'd said. "Especially a
famous lady like yourself."
She'd never told anybody about the present, otherwise the guard would
have gotten fired. But she'd always appreciated it.
She had a feeling she soon might be forced to use it.
auren called Oliver in the south of France to make sure he'd arrived
safely and was settled in.
"I'm perfectly fine," he said. "In fact last night Peggy invited me
over for dinner."
Lauren vaguely remembered Peggy-a titled English widow who'd sold
Oliver the farmhouse.
"That's nice," she said. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
"You don't have to rush," he said. "It's beautiful here, so peaceful
and quiet. I'm very content."
Oh, God! Should she bring her knitting?
Oliver seemed perfectly satisfied with the tranquil life, but she
wasn't so sure it was for her. Maybe she was making a mistake after
all. She wished she had the courage to tell him. No. It was
impossible.
This was her life.
Lorenzo called bright and early to inform her that the photo session
was on for the next day.
"No more fuck-ups, Lorenzo," she said sternly. "I have to get out of
here."
He was hurt. "Please, Lauren, do not insult me."
She got dressed and wandered around the apartment she'd grown to
love.
It was on the market and every day people came to see it. She hated
showing them around and tried to stay out of the way, leaving the tour
in the hands of the real estate agent. It had been her home for almost
twelve years and she was certainly going to miss it.
She sipped her morning coffee sitting at a table on the terrace
overlooking Manhattan. It was a chilly December day, but clear. She
loved looking out at the bustling city laid out below her.
The maid brought her the newspapers. She glanced through them quickly,
stopping at an item in USA Today. She scanned it once, then read it
more slowly a second time.
Today millions of fans across the world celebrate the thirty-fifth
birthday of cult superstar Nick Angel and the opening of his latest
movie, Killer Blue. A statement issued by Panther Studios disclosed
that Nick will not be present at the Los Angeles premiere of Killer
Blue as expected. A personal spokesman for Angel reported that the
actor will spend his birthday in New York.
Nick was in New York and it was his birthday Was she ever going to
forget him?
I can call him if it's his birthday.
No, you can't.
Why not?
Because he'll want to see you and you're leaving for a new life with
Oliver in France.
She shut her eyes for a moment, saw his face and wanted to be with him
more than anything else in the world.
So why are you punishing yourself, Roberts?
I'm not punishing myself Yes, you are. If you want to be with him you
should.
I murdered his father.
Maybe. Maybe not.
I murdered his baby.
You had no choice.
She reached for the phone. Her hand hovered over the receiver for cnn
afew seconds. Then she shook her head. No, it wasn't right. She'd be
tempting fate again-just forget it.
Honey took the second phone call from Cyndra. "He left here early,"
she said. "I think he's taken his plane up."
"But I need to speak to him," Cyndra said.
"He'll be back later. I'm having a surprise party for him."
"Nick doesn't like surprises."
Honey giggled. "He'll like this one."
"Let me talk to Harlan," Cyndra said.
Harlan got on the phone sounding swishier than usual. Since his move
to New York he'd become extremely caustic. "Sister, dearestand what
can I do for you?"
"I need to talk to Nick. Is there any way I can reach him?"
"He's not in the best of moods," Harlan said. "Raced outta here like
he had a ferret playing tag up his ass."
"Tell him to call me as soon as he gets back."
"Will do."
He'd got out of his apartment, left them all standing there, and now he
was completely alone.
At the controls of his small plane Nick felt a glorious freedom.
There was something about being alone, totally out of reach by anyone-a
rarity for him. Oh, sure, he had his retreats, but one by one they got
discovered. The National Enquirer had the number of his beach house.
Every fan in town knew where he lived. Most of his business
acquaintances had somehow or other gotten hold of his private phone
number.
Now he was cut off from everything and everyone, and it was a wonderful
feeling.
Flying was something he'd never imagined himself doing. He'd taken it
because of some macho bet with an old actor who'd one of his movies.
Now he enjoyed it better than any up appeared in thing.
Color me dead.
It was a tempting thought. He could fly this little mother right into
the fucking ocean and vanish forever. The ultimate thrill. No more
hassles. No more fame. Because the fame was suffocating the life out
of him. And there was nothing that made him happy anymore Except
Lauren .
And what had he done about that situation?
He'd let her get away again. Hadn't even bothered to pursue her.
"Call me when you're free," he'd said. And four years had passed.
She was never going to leave Oliver. She'd stay with him until he
dropped.
Well, shit, he couldn't take it anymore.
On a sudden impulse he turned the plane around and headed back to the
airstrip.
Reece thought about Cyndra, he thought about her a lot. Damn, she
looked hot-a real juicy piece. He'd been right about her all along.
Cyndra was a star-and only because he'd had the foresight to pay for
her singing lessons and all the rest. The truth was that he'd
discovered her before anyone. He was the one who deserved all the
credit.
Goddamn it! He'd even introduced her to Reno Records. They owed him
plenty, too. They should all be sucking his dick.
He was bored in his hotel room, there was no way he was going to sit
&n
bsp; there waiting to hear from Marik. He had five hundred dollars.
The idea was to go out and spend it.
He got in his car and drove down Sunset, cutting up La Brea to
Hollywood Boulevard. A sign caught his eye. NAKED LIVE BEAUTIES.
TOPLESS, BOTTOMLESS, BIG BARE BABES.
He parked his car, went inside and got himself a seat at the bar, where
he watched a long-legged dyed blonde bump and grind as she removed
strips of black leather from her sinewy person.
He beckoned her over with a twenty-dollar bill. "Come here, doll.
Get that sexy ass over here." He folded the bill into a thin strip.
American Star Page 69