Drop Dead Beautiful

by Jackie Collins

  “Quit saying such ridiculous crap,” he said, sitting down in front of his computer.

  “I can see it, and I’m sure everyone else can too,” Ling insisted. “Especially Lennie.”

  “You’re full of it.”

  “Look in the mirror, Alex. Look in the mirror and see a man who’s in love with another man’s wife.”

  “What do you want from me, Ling?” he said, losing his temper. “I’m not about to marry you. I’m not about to commit to a long-term relationship. What the fuck do you want from me?”

  “Nothing,” she said sulkily.

  “Okay, now we’ve established that, are you staying or going?”

  “I’ll stay,” she said. “Because I know you’ll realize in time that I am the right woman for you.”

  Why was it so damned difficult getting a woman to leave?

  Chapter 39

  Sunday morning Internet Freak unlocked the door and entered the room where Max had spent a second miserable night with her ankle shackled to the leg of the bed.

  Her clever plan of instant freedom had not worked. Yesterday, when he’d returned with a bottle of disinfectant, she’d been all primed and ready to kick him in the balls and make a swift run for it. Unfortunately he’d turned out to be stronger than she’d thought. The moment she’d attempted to jump him, he’d grabbed her arms in a steel lock behind her back, and forced her onto the bed.

  She was shocked at his strength. Shocked and horrified. Was he going to rape her? Was that why he’d kidnapped her?

  But no, he didn’t attempt that. He’d shackled her ankle again, informed her he was most disappointed that she was not to be trusted, and stormed out of the room, not returning until now.

  “Call your mother and leave a message,” he said, thrusting her cell phone into her hands.

  “What’m I supposed to say?” she muttered, glaring at him.

  “Tell her you’re with friends and you’ve decided to stay longer.”

  “You must be like super crazy!” she yelled, still desperately trying to bury her fear. “I keep on telling you—my mom’s expecting me home today for a big party. If I don’t get there she’ll have everyone out looking for me, and believe me, when she finds out what you’ve done, you’ll be major sorry. Nobody messes with my mom. Nobody. She kills people who do.”

  Henry shoved the phone into her hands. “Do it,” he said. “People keep leaving you messages wondering why you’re not calling them back.”

  “My friends have probably gone to the cops already,” she said, sure that Cookie and Harry must be freaking out because they hadn’t heard from her.

  “Why would they do that?”

  “ ’Cause you’re holding me here, a prisoner.”

  “They don’t know that.”

  “Oh yes they do! You’re screwed, mister.”

  “That’s why you’ll make a call, to put everyone’s mind at rest,” he said, determined to ignore her rudeness because he was sure that deep down she couldn’t possibly mean it.

  “I’m hungry,” she said. “Give me something to eat and I’ll make the call.”

  “You will?”

  “Yes,” she said sulkily, thinking that perhaps there was a way to convey that she was in serious trouble.

  Henry nodded and shuffled his feet. His original plan had been to get back at Lucky Santangelo, but plans change, and now he wanted to make Maria see just how good he could be for her. Why not? He had plenty of money, or at least he would have when his mother died, which hopefully might be soon. He was not a gambler or a cheat. He was a nice guy. A regular guy. He was the same person she’d corresponded with online and liked enough to meet.

  The truth was he was enamored with this girl. Right now she was all that mattered to him, and given more time he was certain he could convince her to like him back.

  “I’ll get you something to eat,” he said. “Then you’ll make the call?”

  She nodded.

  He left the room thinking that his immediate problem was what to do about Ace. Since locking him in the outhouse, he had not ventured back. He was hoping that when he finally opened the door the boy would be in too weak a state to attack him.

  How long could someone live without food and water?

  It wouldn’t be his fault if Ace expired in there. That would not be murder. That would just be unfortunate.

  Chapter 40

  “She’s sixteen,” Lucky pointed out. “Sixteen, Lennie. She should have some sense of responsibility.”

  “How responsible were you at sixteen?” Lennie questioned.

  Sometimes Lennie drove her crazy with his laid-back attitude. “I was fucking married for chrissakes,” she pointed out. “It’s Sunday, and there’s absolutely no excuse for her not returning our calls. You’ve left two messages. I’ve left three. She ran out of here without saying good-bye, and I don’t mind telling you I’m major pissed.”

  “No? Really?” he said in a lightly mocking tone. “Whyn’t you tell me how you really feel?”

  “Don’t do this, Lennie,” she warned, flashing him a deadly look. “Do not piss me off even more.”

  “Listen,” he said encouragingly. “Max will be home in time for Gino’s party, so try and hold off the big mother/daughter fight until tomorrow.”

  “What fight?” Bobby asked, bouncing into the room.

  “Your little sister,” Lucky said.

  “Yeah, what about my little sister?”

  “We haven’t been able to reach her,” Lucky said, fuming. “And if she doesn’t get home in time for Gino’s party, that’s it—she’s grounded for the rest of the year.”

  “I’m kinda pissed at her too,” Bobby remarked. “I was looking forward to us hanging out. Max is the best.”

  “She’s not the best at all,” Lucky said sharply. “She’s a brat.”

  “No way, Mom.”

  “She is, Bobby,” Lucky insisted. “You don’t have to live with her. Everything I say she turns into an argument.”

  “I know I keep repeating myself,” Lennie said. “But face it, Lucky, she’s exactly like you were at her age. The kid’s a rebel, does things her way. You should understand that better than anyone.”

  “Oh God,” Lucky said, shaking her head. “You two, one look at a pretty face and that’s it, you both turn to mush.”

  “Yeah, Mom,” Bobby said. “That’s why we’ve always done exactly what you want us to do. And talking about that—what do you want us to do today? There’s people everywhere, so is there anything I can do to help with the party?”

  “Yes—stay out of the way.”

  “Is that it?”

  “I don’t know, Bobby, I’m so mad right now.”

  “I could take everyone out to lunch.”

  “Great idea. Take them to the Hotel Bel-Air and get a table on the patio. Gino will like that.”

  “Here’s a thought,” Lennie said.

  “What?” Lucky sighed.

  “If you’re so upset with Max, call her girlfriend Cookie, the one she was going to Big Bear with. When she answers, have her put Max on.”

  “Are you saying that Max is purposely avoiding speaking to us?” Lucky said, frowning.

  “You know your daughter, she’s not into lectures.”

  “I don’t have Cookie’s phone number.”

  “Isn’t her father that soul singer, Gerald M.?” Bobby inquired. “I can get you his number from our computer at the club—everybody who’s anybody’s listed. One call and the number’s yours.”

  “Do it,” Lucky said. “Before I run out of patience.”

  “When you speak to Max, no fighting,” Lennie said. “Just make sure she’ll be back in time for the party.”

  “Any other instructions?” Lucky asked, shooting him an “I do not appreciate being told what to do” look.

  “Y’know, on second thought, I should be the one to call Cookie,” Lennie decided. “Go get the number, Bobby.”

  “Like I don’t have enough with
the hotel opening and the party for Gino,” Lucky grumbled as Bobby left the room. “This is a joke. I’m wiped out.”

  “Who was it that insisted on flying to Vegas yesterday?” Lennie said. “I think that might’ve been you. You should’ve had Mooney bring you the checks.”

  “There was a whole stack of them.”

  “What happened to the woman from the bank who was supposed to co-sign?”

  “Who the fuck knows?—Mooney’s trying to locate her. I refuse to deal with that bank again. I instructed Mooney to switch our accounts.”

  “That’s pretty harsh, isn’t it?”

  “No. If the woman can’t be bothered to co-sign the checks, I refuse to keep someone so unreliable around. We’re a huge account, she should be more responsible.”

  Bobby returned with Gerald M.’s private number.

  Lucky started to punch the number into her cell phone. Lennie grabbed it from her. “I said I’ll do it.”

  The phone rang. Finally somebody picked up. “Gerald?”

  “Who’s askin’?”

  “Lennie Golden, Max’s dad.”

  “Great t’hear from you, Lennie,” Gerald said, sounding stoned. “How ya doin’, man?”

  “Not bad,” Lennie responded. “I need Cookie’s cell phone number.”

  “How’s that?”

  “The girls are in Big Bear and Max is having a problem with her phone, so we thought we’d reach her on Cookie’s.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Gerald M. said. “Cookie can give it to you herself, she’s standing right here.”

  “She is?” Lennie said.

  “Cookie,” Gerald M. called out. “Baby girl, get over here.”

  Lennie turned to Lucky. “Cookie’s in L.A.,” he said. “She’s coming to the phone.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lucky said, snatching the phone out of his hand. “Cookie?”

  “Oh, uh, hi, Mrs. Golden.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m, uh, at my dad’s house.”

  “I thought you were going to a party in Big Bear with Max.”

  “Uh, y-yes,” Cookie stammered. “Well, um … I was like there, but then I had to get back early.”

  “Didn’t you and Max drive up to Big Bear together?”

  “No, we, um … took separate cars, so, uh … that’s why I’m like home, ’cause I had my own car.”

  “Cookie,” Lucky said, smelling trouble, “what is going on?”

  “Nothing, Mrs. Golden,” Cookie said, brimming with fake innocence.

  “Whose party was it?” Lucky demanded.

  “Um, this friend of mine. Like she’s this girl I know.”

  “Give me the house phone number.”

  “The party was on Saturday, it’s way over.”

  “I understand that, but I’d like to speak to your friend’s mother.”

  “You can’t do that, they’ve flown back to Aspen.”

  “Back to Aspen,” Lucky repeated. “Y’know, Cookie, do me a favor, get your ass in your car and drive over here. I need to talk to you face-to-face.”

  “But Mrs. Golden—”

  “Cookie, this is not up for discussion. Do it, and do it now.”

  Chapter 41

  On the way over to the Santangelo/Golden house, Cookie frantically punched out Harry’s number. He finally answered after three attempts.

  “Where have you been?” she screeched. “I’m in major crap city.”

  “With my dad,” Harry answered. “We’re on a TV set. The reception on my phone sucks.”

  “Did you reach Max yet?”

  “No. I’ve left messages.”

  “So have I,” Cookie said. “And listen to this—I’ve been summoned to her house by Lucky.”

  “Whaaat?”

  “Yeah, she tracked me down, and now I like have to go to her house and explain where Max is.”

  “This is bad,” Harry said. “What are you going to say?”

  “I dunno,” Cookie said. “I mean, Lucky’s gonna ask me all these questions about where the party was an’ like who the people were an’ was Max staying there. What am I gonna say?”

  “Don’t sweat it,” Harry said, annoyingly unconcerned. “It’s Sunday, Max’ll be back soon.”

  “I hope so,” Cookie wailed. “ ’Cause truthfully I’m kinda freaked that she hasn’t answered our calls.”

  “Me too.”

  “She goes off with some Internet asshole an’ we hear nothing. It’s like too weird.”

  “Maybe you’d better tell her mom.”

  “Maybe you’d better meet me at her house an’ we’ll tell her together.”

  “Can’t,” Harry said flatly. “I’m in Pasadena.”

  “Awesome, Harry, you’re a big freakin’ help,” Cookie complained, pulling her car up behind a row of party trucks. “Okay, I’m here now,” she said, parking her Corvette, jumping out and making her way to the front door.

  Gino Junior was sitting on the steps with an acne-encrusted friend. “What’re you doing here?” he asked.

  “Yeah, what’re you doing here?” his friend echoed.

  The two boys were checking her out. Gino Junior and his friends were always doing that, horny little jerk-offs.

  “Max isn’t back yet,” Gino Junior offered. “She’s gonna be in way shit with Mom when she gets here.”

  “Where is your mom?” Cookie asked, agitatedly twirling her sunglasses and wondering what she was going to say to Lucky.

  “In the kitchen,” Gino Junior said. “Screaming at everyone.”

  “See ya,” Cookie said.

  “Yeah,” Gino Junior said. “At the party. It’s gonna be full of old farts, so let’s sneak off somewhere an’ kill a bottle of vodka.”

  “Grow up, Gino,” she said over her shoulder, making her way into the house and through to the kitchen.

  Lucky was talking to the caterers, waving her arms in the air. It did not look like she was in a pleasant mood. As soon as she saw Cookie she stopped, marched over to her, took her arm, and steered her out of the room. “Come with me,” she said, black eyes flashing danger signals.

  “Uh, Lucky, uh… nice to see you too,” Cookie stammered.

  “Don’t give me that ‘nice to see you’ crap,” Lucky snapped, narrowing her eyes. “I was your age once, I do know what goes on. Has Max got some boy she’s meeting? Is that it?”

  “Uh … I told you, they—”

  “Enough with the bullshit, I want the truth,” Lucky said, maneuvering Cookie into her study where she slammed the door shut. “Now sit down and tell me exactly what’s going on. You didn’t go to Big Bear with her, did you?”

  “I, uh, yeah …”

  “I’m telling you, Cookie,” Lucky warned, “this is no joke, so don’t fucking lie.”

  “Mrs. Golden—”

  “And don’t start calling me Mrs. Golden. You’ve always called me Lucky before, so stop with the innocent friend act ’cause I’m not buying it. Let’s get it clear here—I want to know where Max is, and when she’s coming home.”

  “Well …” Cookie stammered. “I … I tried calling her a few times. I—”

  “We’ve all tried calling her,” Lucky interrupted. “And since she’s not answering her phone, I suggest you quit stalling and start giving me information.”

  “Max … uh … she met this guy,” Cookie blurted, because she realized they were at a point where she was forced to tell a few semitruths, and if Max didn’t like it, that was her problem because she should’ve checked in instead of leaving everyone hanging.

  “What guy?” Lucky asked through clenched teeth.

  “He’s like this really cool guy,” Cookie lied. “And Max … uh … wanted to spend time with him.”

  “ ’Spend time with him,’” Lucky repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “She, uh … wanted to, uh, I dunno,” Cookie mumbled, trailing off.

  “And you’re her alibi, right?”

&nb
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