Keatyn Unscripted (The Keatyn Chronicles Book 8)

by Jillian Dodd

  “She needed a little medicinal weed to get through it. How about you?”

  Vincent considers it, but he wants to feel every single prick of the needle. He wants to bleed for his beloved Lacy. “No, I’ll take the pain.”

  During the tattooing, Tiny asks a lot of questions about how he knows Keatyn and Brooklyn. He feels like he’s being interrogated and it puts him on edge. When he realizes the man is just trying to make conversation, he politely asks the man to stop talking. He wants to focus on the pain and the way it arouses him.

  He also realizes that he needs to do something about Matt.

  He can’t kill him yet. Not until he has Lacy.

  But he needs someone to get close to him. Someone who could follow him on the surf tour.

  A girl.

  He comes up with a simple but elaborate plan.

  The next day, he calls his friend. “Hey, Bobby,” he says. “I’m looking for a girl.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Bobby quips. “Whatcha need?”

  He gives him the specifics, and Bobby sends over all the test shoots of the unknowns who are looking to play Tommy Steven’s daughter. He finds one who looks similar to Keatyn—a leggy blonde with a pretty smile. Nothing like Keatyn’s but close enough for what he needs. He calls an acquaintance who does press for one of the surf apparel manufacturers and mentions the girl. He knows they have a staff that travels to all the big tournaments to model and sell their wares.

  A few days later, the girl is offered a job.

  A few days after that, Vincent calls her. He tells the girl that he’d like her to become friendly with a young surfer named Brooklyn Wright. That he works for the company who hired her and that they are considering endorsements, but need to know what kind of guy he is off camera—like what’s going on in his personal life. Are there any skeletons in his closet?

  At first, she isn’t sure about this arrangement, but he assures her this is common practice in determining which surfers they should sponsor. He also lets her know that he needs her to commit to doing this through the end of the tour. She mentions it’s a long commitment and that she has had some good auditions and really wants to act. That’s when he tells her how much he will be paying her to frolic at exotic beach locations.

  Immediately, she agrees.

  What she said to him when they spoke still haunts him. Heard you’ve been checking out rehabs. You should seriously check yourself in. Get some help. You’ll only find me if I want to be found. Oh, and I’ve been fucking my way across Europe. Maybe you should come and get me.

  Through his contacts, he is introduced to a man who specializes in finding people. Usually, because they have ratted out the boss in some way and go into hiding. When Vincent is at his wit’s end, this man is offered to him. He checks Keatyn’s passport and discovers she hasn’t left the country, but he takes it a step further, scanning her photo into a facial recognition software that will allow him to discover if she left the country under a false passport.

  The man assures him that she hasn’t, but that if she does, he will find her.

  What about social media? Could she have started a new one? Could he find her that way?

  The man confirms that he could and sets up a program that constantly searches for her new profile.

  But just in case he’s wrong, he sends a man to keep watch on her friend, Damian, who is touring with his band.

  One thing the man was useful for was mentioning that when people go into hiding, they typically go somewhere they know. A relative or friend’s home. Vincent searches real estate records and the tabloids. He knows Tommy and the whore own properties in Malibu, New York City, and France. But the man also offers up more suggestions. Could she be with her paternal grandparents in Texas? What about Tommy’s mother, who lives in southern California?

  Vincent has all these places checked.

  But she is at none of them.

  They even have a man pose as a utility repairman, something about a possible gas leak, who gets into Tommy’s New York apartment and reports back that no one is currently living there.

  Another dead end.

  Which makes him furious—mostly with Abby.

  It’s all her fault.

  All of this, is all her fault.

  And he’s going to make her pay.

  He sends her a note and lets her know just that. That she can hide her daughter, but that he knows exactly where Tommy and her girls are.

  And he’s going to keep letting her know his plans until he gets his Lacy back.

  Time passes. Every week he goes to the club. He’s hired private investigators, thugs, and has everyone from surfers to airport personnel on his payroll. But no one can find her. No one has heard from her.

  One night in late September, Vanessa and her friend are at the club. As is typical, RiAnne dances and Vanessa saunters into his section—and she’s in a funk.

  She tells him about Juan Fabio Martinez. How wealthy his family is and how she’s supposed to go out on their yacht for a long weekend at sea. She also admits to missing Keatyn.

  “For the last two years, we’ve gone to the yacht party together and had so much fun. It’s going to be weird not having her with me,” she says.

  “Maybe she’ll show up on her own,” Vincent suggests, trying to make her feel better.

  Vanessa smiles. “I don’t know if she has her phone still, but both Bam and me texted her to remind her of the party. It’d be like Keatyn to randomly show up. Of course, I would have to be mad at her if she did.”

  “Understandable,” Vincent agrees.

  “Oh, and don’t mention the party in front of RiAnne. I don’t want her to know the party is this weekend—she’ll expect an invite. And even though I am furious with her, there’s a part of me that hopes Keatyn will show up.”

  A few bottles of champagne later, and Vincent has secured an invite of his own.

  And much like Vanessa, he is hoping Keatyn will show up to the yacht party.

  “What’s wrong?” Keatyn says.

  “Did you tell Vanessa where you are?” Garrett asks.

  “No.”

  “Keatyn, it’s important that you tell me the truth. I won’t yell at you if you did. I know this has been hard on you, but if you did, it’s imperative that I know.”

  “I swear to you on my sisters’ lives that I’m telling you the truth. What’s going on?”

  “Vanessa may be missing.”

  “Missing how?”

  “She apparently posted something on Facebook about how she talked to you. That you wanted everyone to know you were getting better.”

  “She just wants to act like she knows what’s going on.”

  “Well, that may be, but she went to a club last night and RiAnne says no one has seen her since.” He swallows loudly. “Vincent was at the same club.”

  “And you think something’s happened to her? But you told me if I kept my friends in the dark they’d be safe. Did you lie to me? Do you think he’s done something to her?”

  “We don’t know. We aren’t running surveillance on him twenty-four-seven anymore.”

  I’m shocked. “Why not?!”

  “I was told to cut back.”

  “By who?”

  “James.”

  “Is it a money thing?”

  “I think they were pretty surprised at how much the bill was, yes. But in their defense, it’s been almost a month and we haven’t produced any compelling results. The goal was to gather information that we could use against him. Other than him being at the same places as some of your friends, his going to Oregon, New York, and a few coincidental Facebook things, we have nothing. Nothing we could take to a judge, anyway.”

  “Do you think for my safety we should be watching him more?”

  “I don’t know that twenty-four-seven is the answer, but, yes, I’d like to have the freedom to do what we think is best. For example, my man followed him to the club, but then went off duty.”

  “From now on,
you have the freedom to do what you think is best. Just bill me. And you need to give me more details about Vanessa because what you’re saying doesn’t make sense. Vanessa never went to a club alone. She made RiAnne and me go with her. And she may not have told RiAnne who she was leaving with, but she would have told her she was leaving. RiAnne was always her cover.”

  “What do you mean, her cover?”

  “It’s just not that unusual for her to go off with a guy for the weekend. And when she did that, she always told her dad that she was staying at RiAnnes. What did RiAnne say, exactly?”

  “On her own wall, she said that Vanessa is missing, but on your Facebook wall she said, Vanessa is off radar and I’m going to be pissed if you two are having a reunion without me.

  “Off radar means RiAnne has no idea where she is. You need to send her a message. Don’t write on her wall. Send her a direct message. Tell her that Vanessa is not with me. That I haven’t spoken to her or anyone else since my party. Tell her—and this is important—that I pinkie swear. She’ll come home, Garrett. She always does. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that he was there.”

  “Like it was just a coincidence that he was in New York at Brooklyn’s tournament? I don’t think so. When she comes home, Keatyn, I’d like her to come home alive. We can’t find Vincent either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We can’t find him. He’s not at home. Didn’t go to his office today. His assistant said she wasn’t sure when he’d be back.”

  “Wow,” is all I manage to mutter out. My mind is going in a million directions. Trying to process it all.

  “When she went off with guys before, did she go to the same place? Is there somewhere we can look for her?”

  “Not really. She’d take off and come back with some amazing story. And pictures. Always pictures. Do you really think she could be with Vincent?”

  “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  I remember her telling me that Vincent was hot that day at the hotel. “You might check The Chateau. It’s her favorite hotel and it’s where she met Vincent to begin with.”

  “I’ll call you if I hear anything. You swear to me, she doesn’t know where you are? If she does, I want you out of there now. I’m serious.”

  “I swear.”

  I hit the end button on my phone with a shaking hand. I know at any moment I’m going to burst into tears. I can’t go to class.

  I run my hand through my hair, look up, and see the chapel at the top of the hill. I put my head down and quickly walk toward it.

  Later that night . . .

  I screw up every single dance number I do. I can’t concentrate. Can’t keep one train of thought.

  I want to check my phone, but our dance advisor makes us leave them in our lockers during the game. I’m the first one into the locker room at halftime. We have exactly eight minutes before we have to be on the field to perform with the band.

  There is one message from Garrett.

  Garrett: We’ve tapped into Vincent’s phone records. (Don’t ask.) He only made one call last night to his office number. We assume that’s when he told them he wouldn’t be in. Haven’t seen or heard from him or Vanessa. RiAnne responded to your Facebook message. She asked a bunch of questions about you, but said she is really worried about Vanessa. She said she even tried to reach Vanessa’s dad, but that he is not answering his phone. She says she is “freaking out worried.” We are in the process of running their credit cards. We’re proceeding as if it’s a kidnapping at this point. It’s been nearly 24 hours.

  My throat drops into my stomach.

  Me: If she’s not found by tomorrow morning, I’m getting on a plane and coming home.

  Garrett: You will do nothing. Understand me. Nothing. Please do not compound this situation for me.

  Me: I can’t sit here in hiding while my friend is wherever with him. I can’t.

  Garrett: I am sending someone to sit outside your school. If you attempt to leave, you will be detained. Do you understand me?

  And after the game . . .

  The dorm is quiet. Most everyone has left for the weekend. Katie and Maggie must have already left for Annie’s. Her parents are out of town and they are spending the weekend there. I wasn't invited to go with them, but they all thought I was going with Dawson.

  I wash my face, put on some pjs, and fall into bed.

  I am just on the edge of sleep when my phone rings.

  I instantly shoot up in bed, panic griping me when I see Garrett’s name.

  “Did you find her? Please tell me she’s okay.”

  “She posted a picture on Facebook. We can run it through our facial recognition software, but I thought you might know faster. I just sent you the photo.”

  Up pops a photo of Vanessa wrapped in a pair of deeply tanned arms.

  “Ohmigawd!” I squeal with delight. “She’s with Bam Bam! That's why her dad isn't reachable either. She's with her dad on Bam's yacht.”

  “Want to tell me who Bam Bam is?”

  “Sure. His name is Juan Fabio Martinez. He's an Argentinian polo player. He’s really talented, went pro at fifteen, and he’s only a year older than me and Vanessa. His dad owns, well, like, South America, I think. He's awesome. He's looks like a Polo Ken doll and even comes with his own set of toys.”

  “His own set of toys?”

  “Yeah. Yachts, boats, suitcases full of cash, a helicopter, a ranch, horses, and Ferraris. Always a Ferrari. And always red. Last count he had eight. All different years and models. Every year around this time, he has a party on the yacht. His dad does some business with Vanessa’s dad, and she and I have gone the last two years. I forgot about that. If you would have let me keep my phone, I could have saved us both a lot of worry. I'm sure he texted me.”

  “So she's safe and not with Vincent?”

  “I’m positive. She's safe and not with Vincent.”

  “Look at the photo carefully. Are you sure it's new, not from last year?”

  “I’m positive. Vanessa is in a bikini I have never seen. She has new caramel colored highlights, and Bam has a new tattoo. See the Ferrari prancing pony on his shoulder. That’s new.”

  Garrett lets out a big breath. “Good. I'm still worried that we don't know where Vincent is. Will you be at school all weekend?”

  “No, I'm going to my loft in the morning.”

  He lets out another big breath. “Even better.”

  I get off the phone and say a prayer. Thanking God that Vanessa is okay.

  Vincent has an enjoyable weekend on the yacht to an extent—she never shows up.

  While he is out on the ocean with Vanessa, he recalls seeing her at the pool when she got back from Europe.

  “Like I said. I wanted to celebrate. I also have big news for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The script is done.”

  “Really? That’s awesome! When do I get to read it? Can you, like, messenger it to my house? Have you started auditions yet?”

  “Not yet. I want to get you locked in first.”

  And he has a revelation. Keatyn isn’t some girl fresh off the farm that can be convinced of anything. Growing up in the business means she’s probably heard horror stories about the casting couch. The fact that he didn’t send her the script once it was done, didn’t go through an agent, and kept trying to get her to go somewhere with him probably made her nervous. He has to legitimize the remake. He has to keep going forward with the project. He needs to create hype for the remake within the industry. Get the buzz going. He knows she wants this role. Maybe she will come back to him on her own accord.

  As we’re walking toward the student center for lunch, Jake and Bryce tell me they have to go do something for football real quick, but that Dawson wants me to wait at the table for him. That they’ll be there shortly.

  “Um, no thanks. I don’t have a death wish.”

  “Just sit there, Monroe, and don’t let her give you any shit.”


  I sigh big. “Fine.”

  I’m actually kind of excited to see Whitney. I hope she looks me up and down and gives me a dirty look. It will mean that I look good. Today is the first day that I haven’t worn one of Kym’s looks. I’m wearing a look I put together myself. As you would expect, it started with a new pair of shoes: deep red suede Louboutin T-strap platforms with leopard heels. I paired them with the plaid skort, a cream-colored Dolce & Gabbana ruffled-front silk blouse, red silk headband, black cardigan, and a fun Juicy Couture charm bracelet.

  As I’m confidently walking to the student center, I get a photo texted to me from Garrett.

  I pull it up and see another photo of Vanessa with Bam. His arm is wrapped around her and she’s smiling coyly. She looks really happy. And I can’t help but hope that she is. I look a little closer and notice that she’s cropped them out of a group of people. I can see numerous body parts behind and around them.

  Me: Another photo. Why?

  Garrett: Look closely. At the arm on Vanessa’s right.

  I enlarge the photo.

  And feel like I’m going to throw up.

  Not only is a scrolly Abby tattoo clear, but Vincent has a new one.

  Up on his wrist.

  A chaos tattoo just like mine.

  Me: Holy shit! He got a tattoo just like mine?!

  Garrett: What? I just saw Abby.

  Me: The Chinese symbol on his wrist is in almost the exact location as Brooklyn’s. It makes me feel sick. Do you think the security B has is sufficient or have they cut back too?