“Is that all?” Irma said calmly. “Can I go now?”
Anthony had been straining for a fight, and Irma wasn’t giving him one. What the fuck was she on?
“Don’t think you’re goin’ anywhere,” he said. “I—” Before he could continue, his cell phone rang. He snapped it open. “Yes?” he barked.
“Mr. Bonar?” a female voice said.
“Who wants t’know?” he said suspiciously.
“This is Detective Franklin from Las Vegas. I’d like to ask you a few questions about Tasmin Garland.”
“Hold on a minute.” He turned to Irma, waving her away. “Business, gotta take this.”
“Permission to leave granted,” Irma murmured, infuriating Anthony even more.
He waited until she was out of sight before taking the call. “Yes?” he said, pacing.
“Were you fixed up on a blind date with Mrs. Tasmin Garland last Friday night?”
“Huh?”
“I’ve spoken to Renee Falcon. I believe you, Mrs. Rae Young, and Mrs. Garland had dinner Friday night at the Cavendish Hotel. Is that correct?”
“Why you askin’?”
“Because Mrs. Garland is missing. She hasn’t been seen since that dinner.”
“I hardly know her.”
“You dined with her, Mr. Bonar. She informed her babysitter that she was being fixed up on a blind date, and since you were the only man present …”
“That means shit. I was sittin’ there with a coupla muff divers, didn’t even catch the other broad’s name.”
“I see. Well … perhaps you can recall the conversation, the mood of the evening.”
“Sorry,” he said abruptly. “Had a steak, talked business with Renee, an’ left town.”
“Unexpectedly?”
“Huh?”
“Unexpectedly, Mr. Bonar?”
“No.”
“Your pilot says otherwise.”
She’d talked to his fucking pilot! This was unbelievable!
“My pilot knows nothin’,” he said, a sharp edge to his voice. “I tell him what t’do when I decide t’do it.”
“I see. And you decided to leave Vegas at midnight. Unexpectedly.”
“It wasn’t so unexpected. I knew I was going.”
“Apparently your pilot didn’t. He thought you were staying overnight.”
“I don’t pay my pilots to think. I pay ’em to get me from A to B.”
“I understand.”
“Yeah.”
“I want to make certain I get this right. You’re saying that after the dinner was finished, you never saw Mrs. Garland again, is that correct?”
“ ’S right. So if ya got nothin’ else …”
“Thank you, Mr. Bonar. Any further questions, I’ll call this number.”
“Yeah, do that,” he said, clicking his phone shut.
Goddammit! Fucking dumb questions.
He summoned The Grill. “Call the main office,” he said. “I need ’em to change my cell phone number, an’ get me a new pilot—tell ’em to fire the one I got now. Make sure the new one starts pronto, ’cause we’re leavin’ for Miami tomorrow.”
Chapter 54
The boy in the back of the Chevrolet was chattering to Max about music, telling her who he liked and who he didn’t. The old man was snoring. Max lapsed into silence, trying not to think about how much her side and ankle hurt her.
Ace, with one scratched-up hand on the steering wheel, was wondering if there was anything to eat in the car—a chocolate bar, chewing gum, anything. He leaned over to take a look in the glove department, and as he did so the old man woke up.
“What you nosin’ around for?” the old man said, his voice quavering. “We got no money. We’re hardworkin’ farmers. If you’re gonna rob us, it ain’t your day, sonny boy.”
“Not planning on robbing you, sir,” Ace said. “I was seeing if you had anything to eat.”
“All you hadda do was ask,” the old man grumbled. “We got a half-eaten ham sandwich if that’s any use to you.”
A half-eaten ham sandwich sounded like bliss. “Uh … thanks,” Ace gulped, overcome by the thought of food.
“Give him the sandwich, boy,” the old man ordered his grandson.
“But Gramps,” the boy whined. “I was gonna have that later.”
“Can’t you see these people are hungry?” he said, throwing Ace a suspicious look. “What you two young-uns doin’ out on the road so early anyway?”
“Thought I told you,” Ace said. “Our car broke down.”
“A likely story the mess you’re in. I’ve heard every story from here to Florida,” the old man said. “A likely story. Give him the sandwich.”
Reluctantly the boy rummaged in his backpack and produced a brown paper bag. “Here,” he said, thrusting the bag at Max, his eyes fixed firmly on her breasts.
She opened the bag, took out the sandwich, and passed it forward to Ace. “You have it,” she said.
“We’ll split it,” he answered.
“No, I’m okay. Really. It’s all yours.”
Ace devoured the sandwich in three quick bites.
“That’s the best-tasting thing ever,” he said. “Thanks.”
The grandfather had fallen asleep again, and the boy was continuing his music conversation. “I got my own radio,” he boasted. “Gramps won’t get me one of them boom boxes like I want, he says we can’t afford it. I’ll get it one of these days soon as I start workin’.”
Max made a mental note to find out where these people lived and send this boy a CD player. If it wasn’t for them, they would still be standing on the road hoping that Internet Freak wasn’t going to find them and stick a gun in their face.
She wondered what was going on at home. As soon as she got near a phone, she’d call Cookie and find out before driving back to L.A.
Hopefully when they arrived at the parking lot her car would be there, Ace would start it for her, and she’d drive back to L.A. as quickly as possible.
What a nightmare this past weekend had been.
What a story to tell Cookie and Harry!
She couldn’t wait.
It was a clear day, crisp, cold, and quite invigorating. Henry decided to go outside into the garden and pick some flowers to put on the tray before he took it in to Maria for her breakfast. He was determined to find something pretty to put on her tray.
Making his way around the side of the house, he was startled to see several boards lying on the ground. He couldn’t imagine where they’d come from. Then it dawned on him that they’d been wrenched from Maria’s window.
For a moment he didn’t understand what was happening. It was impossible for her to escape, and yet …
Frantically he ran over to the window and peered in. There was no Maria lying in the bed. No Maria in the room. No Maria!
Rage swept over him, a stark cold rage that enveloped his entire body.
Where was she? How had she escaped?
He ran to the outhouse, finding that the big wooden door was still intact. Rushing back into the cabin, he got his gun and the key to the outhouse, then he went back outside and tentatively unlocked the door.
Instead of the body he’d been hoping to see, there was a gaping hole in the ground leading to a tunnel where the cousin had obviously managed to burrow his way out.
Black fury roared in his head. How had this happened? Even more important, how long had they been gone?
He raced back into the cabin, grabbed his car keys, ran out to his car, jumped in, and set off.
Nobody was taking Maria away from him now. Nobody.
The old man was snoring loudly.
“Mind if I put the radio on?” Ace asked.
“I don’t care,” the boy answered. “Gramps listens to them country stations, but I like rock and roll.”
“Who’s your fave?” Max asked.
“Rolling Stones, they’re good.”
“You’re too young to know anything about the Stones
,” Max said, turning her head to look out the back window.
“You too,” the boy said. “How old are you?”
“I’m—” She was just about to lie, but then she thought, what’s the point? “Sixteen,” she said. “And you?”
“Gonna be fourteen in a month.”
“You’re both too young to know who the Rolling Stones are,” Ace remarked.
“I am so not,” Max objected. “I’m into all kinds of music. Rap, soul, alternative rock.”
“The Stones must be as old as this kid’s grandfather,” Ace said, feeling a lot stronger since eating the half sandwich.
“Thing is they’re still rockin’,” Max pointed out. “Saw their last concert in L.A. They rule!”
“I’ve got a record of Mick Jagger singing ‘Satisfaction,’ “ the boy boasted.
“Wow!” Max said, giving him a little slack. “You’re smarter than you look.”
“You bein’ rude?” the boy asked, scratching his head.
“Just eff-ing with you,” Max teased.
“Now, now, kids,” Ace said from the driver’s seat. “And I do mean kids,” he added pointedly.
“What?” Max said.
“Sixteen, huh?”
“Shut up and put on the radio,” she said, embarrassed because she’d originally told him she was eighteen, and now he’d caught her in a lie.
He reached over and switched on the radio. Music filled the car—a twangy female moaning about lost love and a husband who’d dumped her with six kids and no money.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Ace noticed a car coming up fast behind them. He drew over to the side to let it pass.
Then he saw that it wasn’t just any car. It was the Volvo he’d seen outside the cabin, and if he wasn’t mistaken, sitting behind the wheel was Internet Freak in hot pursuit.
“Shit!” he exclaimed.
“What?” Max asked, leaning forward.
“Believe me, you don’t wanna know.”
Chapter 55
They’d argued all the way home. Venus was furious with Billy for getting in a fight with Alex—a fight that had ended only when Steven and Bobby managed to separate the two men. But not before Billy had received a black eye and Alex a split lip.
When they’d finally arrived at her house, Billy had informed her he wouldn’t be staying the night due to his early call to the set the next morning. “Speak to you tomorrow,” he’d said, barely kissing her on the cheek.
“Fine,” she’d said, and stormed inside, angry and frustrated. Billy’s childish behavior reflected on her. She was sure it would get reported in the tabloids or on some scurrilous gossip Web site, and once more she would be the brunt of every late-night talk-show host’s jokes.
She’d spent the rest of the evening alone in her bedroom, seething.
By the time Cole arrived early Monday morning for their workout session, she was ready to explode.
“You’re lookin’ angry,” Cole remarked. “Beautiful but angry. Think we’ll do the gym today, get out some of that aggression.”
“Wouldn’t you be angry if you were in my position?” she demanded. “I’m sleeping with an idiot!”
“My philosophy is never take responsibility for somebody else’s bad behavior,” Cole said, flexing his arms as they made their way across the courtyard to Venus’s fully equipped home gym.
“It’s not fair,” she complained. “I’ll get all the blame for this, y’know.”
“How come?” Cole asked, adjusting the weight level on one of the many pieces of Cybex gym equipment.
“Because it’ll be in the papers that I instigated the fight. They’ll say that Alex Woods and Billy Melina were fighting over me. I can see it now: ‘Venus’s Boy Toy Springs to Her Defense,’ something like that. They make up this shit all the time.”
“Honey, Billy doesn’t get called a boy toy anymore. He’s a movie star in his own right.”
“Yes, Cole, I know that and you know that, but it’s more fun for the tabloids to give him a label. You know how they get off giving celebrities demeaning nicknames.”
“You’ve got a point, but we’re not gonna dwell on it. Now let’s get your ass on the treadmill.”
“No treadmill today, I don’t feel like it.”
“Exercise helps.”
“It does?”
“You betcha.”
“I’m just pissed, you know.”
“I understand,” Cole said soothingly. “But you can’t let it get to you.”
“Nice, huh? I can see it now, the two of them working together today. Billy with his black eye and Alex with his split lip. It’ll be a fun day on the set.”
“I think it’s cool they’re working together,” Cole said. “They’ll be forced to interact, then it’ll all be history. You’ll be the only one thinkin’ about it.”
“I suppose it is my fault,” she admitted.
“An’ why’s that?”
“’Cause I’m the one who told Billy that Alex said something negative about him to Lucky, and no good ever comes from repeating gossip.”
“Okay, that’s a positive—you learned a lesson.”
“Did you bring me a Starbucks?”
“Do I look like I’m carrying Starbucks?”
“I’ll send somebody out to get us two Mocha Frappuccinos—what do you think?”
“I think you’re putting off getting on the treadmill. We’ll add boxing today, get out all that aggression.”
“Not yet. Let’s talk about you for a change, I’m bored with me. Tell me about you and Rich. I’m impressed.”
“What’re you impressed about?” Cole said with a casual shrug. “Rich is a nice guy.”
“He’s not just a guy, Cole, he’s an icon.”
“I get off on mixing with icons. Why d’you think I’m with you every morning?”
“Hmm … so now that you’ve got a super-affluent sugar boyfriend—”
“Listen to you, madam, taggin’ me with a nickname.”
“Okay, I shouldn’t have said that. I’ll try again. Uh, now that you’ve got this very famous rock star boyfriend, you really don’t have to keep working, do you?”
“I train people because I like doing it,” Cole explained. “Why do you keep performing? You’ve got enough money socked away to stop anytime you want.”
“ ’Cause I love it.”
“Then concentrate on what you do an’ stop bitchin’ about your boyfriend. Career first—weren’t you the one who taught me that?”
“You’re right,” she said, finally jumping on the treadmill in a better frame of mind. “Career first. Assholes second.”
“Well,” Cole said with a jaunty grin, “let’s not get carried away.”
“It’s all over the freakin’ news,” Kev announced.
“What is?” Billy asked. He was sitting in his trailer at the location, waiting to be called to the set. Kev had arrived with the newspapers, a stack of mail, and a Thermos of decent coffee.
“This fight you had last night,” Kev said, dumping a pile of fan mail on a side table. “I wanna hear all about it.”
“Jesus!” Billy complained, not in the mood to discuss it with Kev. “You can’t do anything in this town without it getting out.”
“You actually hit Alex Woods?” Kev said. “Punched him in the freakin’ face?”
“Take a look at my eye, Kev,” Billy said evenly. “He hit me.”
“Can’t see anything,” Kev said, squinting at him.
“That’s ’cause they covered it in the makeup trailer, but I have a mother of a black eye underneath all this crap.”
“Who threw the first one, bro?”
“It might’ve been me.”
“Shit!” Kev said, slapping his palms together. “Wish I’d been there to see it. What did Venus say?”
“She’s major pissed.”
“I bet. You know how she likes to protect her image.”
“I’m not her fucking image,” Billy exploded. �
�How come you say dumb crap like that?”
Drop Dead Beautiful Page 30
