Hollywood Wives--The New Generation

by Jackie Collins

  “You don’t know your own number?”

  “I recently changed all my numbers. I’ll get it. Don’t go away.” She stayed off the line as long as she could before coming back with the number. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rick giving her a thumbs-up.

  “Okay,” the man said. “Here’s what I want you to do. Walk out of your house right now, get in your car, and drive toward the beach. I’ll contact you with further instructions.”

  He hung up and she put the phone down, her hands shaking.

  “The call was coming from a pay phone in the valley,” Rick said. “Our guys are on it.”

  “They can’t do anything until I have Nicci,” Lissa said. “Promise me.”

  “Don’t worry,” Walter said. “Nobody makes a move without instructions from me.”

  “What do you think, Michael?”

  “I think you did great,” he said, encouraging her to stay strong. “You were calm, in control. Now we’ll go out to your car, and you’ll do as he says.”

  “You can’t come with me. If he sees someone else in the car, it could endanger Nicci’s life.”

  “I understand, Lissa. They’ve put a device in your car that’ll pick up everything you say. I’ll be able to hear you, so you’ll keep me informed.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “Close enough that you’ll feel safe, and he’ll never know.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, turning to him, her beautiful face creased with worry.

  “Yes, Lissa, I’m sure.”

  “Oh God!” she said. “This is such a nightmare.”

  “Don’t worry,” Walter said. “Amongst all of us, we’ll get your daughter back safely. That’s a promise.”

  “Are you sure?” she repeated, turning to Michael again.

  “Positive, sweetheart,” he said.

  But in his heart he wasn’t sure at all.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  * * *

  ERIC HAD A PLAN. The plan was to get into his car, pick up the ransom, and head straight for the airport. He couldn’t care less what happened after he got the money. If he’d had the time, he would’ve torched the building with all of them in it, including the girl. They were useless scum—every one of them.

  Arliss and his friends were slouched around the room when he returned from his second phone call. The room stank of sweat, urine, and unwashed bodies. How he despised them.

  “I’ll be leaving shortly,” he said. “When I return, we’ll sit here and divide up the money. After that, you’re on your own.”

  “What about the girl?” Little Joe asked. It was apparent that he’d become her primary caretaker.

  “You’ll drive her up into the hills and let her loose,” Eric said. “She can find her own way home.”

  “How long’re you gonna be?” Arliss asked, picking his teeth with a used matchstick.

  “A few hours,” Eric said.

  “Why so long?” Big Mark wanted to know.

  “I have to lead them on a dance,” Eric explained. “If I get caught, we end up with nothing. They think they’re meeting me at one place, when they get there, I tell them to go somewhere else. And so on and so forth. It takes time to do this properly.”

  “One of us should come with you,” Big Mark said.

  “No,” Eric said. “This is the most dangerous part of the operation. They get me, and whoever I’m with goes down too.”

  “Yes,” Arliss agreed. “He’s better off alone.”

  “How’d we know he’s comin’ back?” Big Mark asked.

  Eric threw him a look of shocked surprise. “You think I’d run out on you four?” he said. “You’d find me, and my life wouldn’t be worth shit. I’m no fool.”

  “He’s no fool,” Arliss said, echoing him.

  No, I’m not, Eric thought. But you four certainly are.

  Big Mark didn’t look too sure. He was suffering from a massive hangover, and the thought of riding around with Eric didn’t exactly appeal to him. But still . . . once Eric had the money, how could they trust him to come back?

  “I’d better drive with you,” he said. “For insurance.”

  “You want insurance?” Eric said, turning on the huge hulk of a man. “Here’s your fucking insurance,” he said, digging in his pockets and producing his Social Security card, driver’s license, and two credit cards. “Does that make you happy?” he demanded, throwing them on the table. “Keep them until I return. Jesus!”

  “So when y’get back, we’re lettin’ the girl go, is that it?” Little Joe asked.

  “Yes,” Eric said. “If all goes smoothly and I have the money.”

  “You’ll have it,” Arliss said, his face twitching.

  “And don’t leave here until I return,” Eric warned. “It’s important that you all stay out of sight until this is done.”

  Morons, he thought. Dumb, stupid imbecilic morons.

  At least they’d served their purpose.

  •

  ERIC LEFT the building and got into the black Ford he’d rented the day before under another assumed name. Then he entered the freeway and drove all the way to the Hollywood exit, before doubling back to Farmer’s Market.

  He parked across the street and called Lissa. “Turn around and come to Farmer’s Market on Fairfax,” he said. “When you get there, park your car, leave the bag with the money on the passenger side. Don’t lock the doors, get out and walk across the street. Keep walking for fifteen minutes. If you look back, your daughter dies. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Good. When I’m sure all the money is there, you’ll get Nicci.”

  “Where will she be?”

  “She’ll find you.”

  “How can I be sure?”

  “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  When Lissa finally arrived, he noted that she was not being followed. He immediately picked up his cell phone again and called her. “More instructions,” he said. “Stay in your car, make a U-turn out of there, and head down Wilshire toward downtown.”

  “I thought you wanted me to park the car here and leave the money in it,” she said, confused.

  “No. Keep driving. I can see you, so you’d better make sure you follow my instructions. And do not use your phone. I’m watching you, bitch.”

  “What is it you want me to do again?” she asked.

  “Get onto Wilshire and drive downtown.”

  She repeated his words and looked around to see if she could spot Michael. She couldn’t, but she knew he’d be close by, he’d promised he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

  She did a U-turn out of Farmer’s Market and set off down Fairfax. Her heart was beating so fast she could barely think straight.

  This was an impossible situation to be in. Where was Nicci? Was she all right? She must be so scared by now.

  Random thoughts kept running through her head. Antonio had wanted to come to the house. She’d told him no, asking him to wait at his hotel for news. As Michael had said, the fewer people involved, the better. Then she started thinking about who could be doing this to her. Was it Gregg? She wouldn’t put it past him. He’d turned out to be a truly evil man, and she hated him.

  Oh, God! If only she could wake up from this ongoing nightmare.

  When she reached Wilshire, she turned left, heading downtown, anxiously awaiting further instructions.

  The moment the phone rang again she grabbed it.

  “Do you have the money?” the man asked, no longer bothering to disguise his voice.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Where is it?”

  “In a bag on the floor next to me.”

  “Pick the bag up and put it on the passenger seat. Then unlock your doors and open the passenger side window.”

  “But—”

  “Shut up, bitch! If you want to see your daughter again, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

  •

  “HERE’S SOME WATER,” Little Joe said.<
br />
  Nicci was lying on the cot, her head felt like it was exploding. She grabbed the paper cup and drank the water.

  “How d’you feel?” he asked.

  “How do you think I feel?” she responded. “Lousy. When are you letting me out of here?”

  “Everything’s under control,” Little Joe said. “Your parents are gonna pay. Eric’s gone to collect the ransom now. With any luck, you’ll be free in a few hours.”

  “I’m very sick,” she mumbled feverishly.

  He leaned over her and felt her head. She was burning up. “Try t’sleep,” he said. “You can’t do nothin’ else.”

  “Do you realize what kind of crime kidnapping is?” she muttered.

  “We won’t hurt you,” he said. “We’re lettin’ you go.”

  “When?” she asked, shivering uncontrollably.

  “Soon,” he assured her.

  •

  LARRY SINGER walked into Oliver Rock’s place unannounced.

  Oliver was standing in the bathroom, cleaning his teeth. “Shit, man—you scared me,” he said, when Larry appeared behind him.

  “Don’t you lock your door?” Larry asked.

  “What for?” Oliver said. “If they wanna get in around here, they’ll just kick the door in.”

  “Nice neighborhood,” Larry said. “Are you ready?”

  “Where do you want to jog?” Oliver asked.

  “Where do people usually jog around here?”

  “Down on the boardwalk,” Oliver said.

  “Fine,” Larry replied. “Let’s go there.”

  They headed out of his apartment.

  “We can walk,” Oliver said. “That’s the advantage of living at the beach.”

  “Yes,” Larry said. “I’ve often thought of buying a beach house. Taylor wants me to.”

  “Do it,” Oliver said. “You can run on the sand, get away from the smog. It’s cool, man.”

  “I’m sure,” Larry said.

  They reached the boardwalk, which was surprisingly crowded for so early in the morning. There were plenty of joggers, people on roller skates, scooters, and bikes, and various transients recovering from a night out in the cold. The sun was already shining, and the surf looked most inviting.

  Larry began to jog slowly. Oliver fell into step beside him.

  “You know, Oliver, you’re very young,” Larry remarked. “And I know you’ve recently scored a big deal with your first screenplay. However, I thought I should warn you about this town.”

  “Yeah?” Oliver said.

  “Never cross the wrong people.”

  “How’s that?” Oliver asked.

  “It’s an old cliché—but honesty is the best policy.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Oliver said. “That’s what my dad always says.”

  “Your father’s a very nice man,” Larry said. “He has integrity. That’s a very important quality to have if you want to survive in this business.”

  “I got integrity,” Oliver said.

  “Have you?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Integrity and drugs don’t mix,” Larry said. “You should stop doing drugs.”

  “Hey, man—all I do is smoke a little weed once in a while, that’s not exactly doin’ drugs.”

  “Don’t forget the coke,” Larry said. “It’s all over the tip of your nose.”

  “What?” Oliver said, embarrassed. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

  “It’s not smart to do drugs in this town,” Larry said. “Too many people end up out of control. You saw what happened to River Phoenix. And he was just the beginning. Look at Robert Downey, Jr. They’ve all had their experiences. You don’t want to put yourself in that position, you have to stay in control.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Oliver said. He was already out of breath, which pissed him off because Larry was almost thirty years older than he and was obviously in much better shape as far as exercise was concerned.

  “Another thing,” Larry said.

  “Yeah?” Oliver said, thinking, What is this? Fucking lecture hour?

  “You don’t sleep with other men’s wives.”

  Uh-oh, Oliver thought, keeping his eyes fixed firmly ahead. “Huh?” he managed.

  “You heard me,” Larry said, cool as a block of ice. “You don’t sleep with other men’s wives. Especially mine.”

  “I dunno what you’re—”

  “Please!” Larry interrupted, and stopped jogging. “Taylor has told me everything.”

  “Aw shit!” Oliver whined, bending over because he was experiencing a nasty cramp. “Why’d she do that?”

  “My wife is an honest woman,” Larry replied. “And since I’m friendly with your parents, I thought I’d give you a chance to explain yourself. When was the last time you and Taylor were together?”

  “Hey, listen, man—I’m sorry. I dunno how it happened. She told me you weren’t into sex, and uh . . . Jesus, I mean, it wasn’t something I was gonna keep doing. Neither was she.”

  “That’s all right, Oliver,” Larry said calmly. “I understand you both had your reasons. When was the last time?”

  “A few days ago, man—but, you know, it wasn’t any big deal. We both knew it was over.”

  “You’ve already said that.”

  “Yeah, well, I know. Hey listen, you’re bein’ real cool about this, and uh . . . I’m kinda surprised she told you, ’cause she didn’t want you to know. But we’d already decided we weren’t gonna do it anymore out of respect for you.”

  “Respect for me, huh?” Larry said.

  “Anyway, man, maybe we should discuss the script, get into that.”

  “Yes, Oliver, maybe we should. You see, I’ve decided to go with another writer.”

  “You have?”

  “I wouldn’t want you to overburden yourself. You recently sold your first script, and I think you should concentrate on that. I don’t wish to take up your valuable time.”

  “Hey,” Oliver said, blinking rapidly. “If it’s ’cause of me and Tay—I told you, it’s over.”

  “Yes,” Larry said, staring at him. “You’re right, Oliver. It’s over.”

  •

  SHIT! MICHAEL THOUGHT. He’s changing the dance. I should’ve known it was too easy.

  As Lissa made a U-turn out of Farmer’s Market, he hung back, making sure whoever was tracking her didn’t realize she was being followed.

  He was pretty good at it. Trailing people was part of his profession. He was always able to stay far enough away from his target so that they never realized he was behind them.

  Still, he couldn’t let Lissa out of his sight. Who knew what kind of maniac this guy was?

  What the kidnapper wasn’t aware of was that her car had a device that connected her to Michael’s car, so she could fill him in on everything.

  She’d already told him that whoever was following her was somewhere nearby.

  Michael continued to hang back. As long as she kept up a dialogue with him, he’d know exactly where she was without being on her tail. That way, the kidnapper would be between her car and his, and when the man instructed her where to leave the money, he’d be right there.

  It was a game.

  And it was one that Michael knew exactly how to play.

  •

  WALTER BURNS prided himself on never being taken advantage of. He’d put together teams of people across the country who looked after his interests. And his interests were many. Nobody got away with anything. If he was owed money, they paid. If anyone attempted extortion in any way, they also paid.

  Lissa was unaware that they’d placed a tracking device in the bag containing the money. Whoever the kidnapper was must be foolish to think he could get away with two million dollars. Maybe if he’d asked for fifty thousand he might’ve pulled it off. But no, greed always pulled people under, and made them lose out in the end.

  Walter liked Michael Scorsinni. He was obviously a man who knew what he was doing. Walter already sus
pected he was in bed with Lissa Roman, but so what? It was good that she had somebody around her who could take care of her. Walter was thinking that when this little caper reached its rightful conclusion, he might offer Michael a job. Meanwhile, his people had called him from the valley to inform him that they’d explored the area where the phone call was made and come up with two possibilities. One was a large warehouse building that seemed to be deserted, and the other was a rundown apartment building in the same neighborhood.

  “We’re carrying out a search of both places,” Rick Maneloni informed him.

  “Good,” Walter said.

  Rick Maneloni had worked for Walter for many years. He’d started off doing menial jobs in Chicago, finally rising to manage Walter’s flagship hotel in Vegas. Trust. That was Walter’s motto. Surround yourself with people you can trust.

  There was two million dollars in cash in a bag in Lissa Roman’s car, and he wanted it back. He also wanted Nicci, her daughter, back. And if all went according to plan, he’d get the money and the girl back safely.

  Nobody crossed Walter Burns and got away with it.

  Chapter Forty-eight

  * * *

  DETECTIVE FANNY WEBSTER questioned Sam, the bar owner, for the second time.

  “Okay,” she said patiently. “Let’s go over this again. You’ve told me about a man called Eric who frequents the bar. You don’t know his last name or where he lives. But you do know he was on his way to see Pattie two days ago. In fact, that would be the day she was killed. And the way I look at it, he would be our prime suspect.”

  “Pattie liked him,” Sam said. “He said somethin’ about owin’ her money. Strange guy, moody, dead-fish eyes. Kept to himself. Except . . .”

  “Except what?” Fanny asked.

  “He was always hangin’ with Arliss an’ Little Joe, and another coupla guys who come in here. I think they was planning somethin’.”

  “What kind of something?”

  “They was always huddlin’ together. The day Eric asked where he could find Pattie, I said, ‘What’re you up to?’ He never told me nothing—never wanted t’talk to me, just those other guys.”

  “How can I reach them?”

  “Dunno,” Sam said, blowing his nose on a cocktail napkin. “This is a place where nobody asks questions.”