The Prada Paradox

by Julie Kenner

  I can’t see the contents from where I’m standing, but I can tell from Blake’s words that we’ve hit the jackpot.

  “Oh, baby,” he says. “I think we’ve got it.”

  When he steps into my sight, he’s holding one of those fake Oscar statues. I can see that something’s printed along the base, and I point to it. “What’s it say?”

  “Hollywoodland,” Blake says. “Holy crap, is that another clue?”

  “It can’t be,” I say. “This has to be the end. We don’t have time to go anywhere else.”

  I can hear the hysteria in my voice, but that makes sense, because I am hysterical.

  “What we don’t have time for,” Andy says, “is dawdling. So let’s figure out what Oscar and Hollywoodland mean and get there.” He looks at his wrist. “And fast.”

  “He’s right,” I say to Blake. “Let’s go.”

  I turn back toward the door, just in time to see a shadow. I have no idea who’s out there, but even so, my heart leaps in my chest, terror suddenly gripping me, and I turn around, running back toward Blake.

  He sees my wild eyes, and then I see his widen as he looks past me. “Get down!” he yells, pushing me to the ground, the statue tumbling down with me.

  I’m falling, and it’s like slow motion. I notice every little thing—Janus, brandishing a gun on the other side of the room. The statue, shattering on the floor and releasing a small ziplock baggie containing two pink pills from the hollow space inside. And Blake, reaching into the back waistband of his jeans and pulling out a gun.

  Where the heck did he get a gun?

  He fires before Janus manages to, and then I watch as he squeezes the trigger again, this time releasing nothing but a click. Frustrated—or maybe as a defensive maneuver—he hurls the gun at Janus. I have no idea if it hits my assassin or not; I’m too busy racing for the back door, the little baggie of pills clutched tight in my hand.

  Chapter 48

  Thank God he’d kept the gun, Blake thought, as they slammed through the back door and found themselves in a nonpublic area. He would have liked another round, but at least the one he’d gotten off had slowed the bastard down.

  And smashing him in the face with the pistol had felt damn good, too. More important, it had bought them a few minutes.

  Now he looked around, realizing that they were in some sort of service alley that ran behind the locker room and a few of the buildings that housed exhibits. A tall wooden fence faced them, and for a brief second, he considered climbing it. It was too high to jump to the top, though, and without a place to get a toehold, there was no way they’d make it over the top before Janus joined them.

  All that went through his head in a split second, and with barely a pause, he cut to the left, Devi’s hand tight in his, and raced down the alley.

  “Where are we going?”

  “No idea,” he admitted. “Just away.” Once they were free of Janus, he’d figure out where to go next. The clue, or a hospital. And considering an Oscar statue with “Hollywoodland” printed on the base was hardly the best of clues, he was thinking that checking himself into Cedar Sinai might be the best course after all.

  He heard Andy puffing right behind them, then heard the slam of the metal door. He risked one glance over his shoulder and saw Janus emerge, the gun aimed at their backs.

  “Here!” he called, tugging them sideways and into a cutoff from the alley into the space between two buildings. It dead-ended in front of them, but several doors lined each side of the narrow corridor. He decided on one, found it locked, and then tried the next. And even though it was marked with a red Danger! Authorized Personnel Only! sign, it was thankfully unlocked. He hesitated only a second; as far as he was concerned, the man chasing them with the gun was authorization enough.

  The three of them rushed inside, and as soon as Andy cleared the threshold, Blake slammed the door shut, then looked for a way to bolt it. An old-fashioned bar lock—made out of serious-looking steel—ran across the door. He turned the lever, forcing the lock into place, all the while having the feeling that they’d truly lucked out. Most likely this door was supposed to be permanently shut, and one of the kids who works on the lot forgot.

  No problem. Blake was more than happy to take advantage of their mistake.

  “What now?” Devi whispered.

  “We keep moving. We need to get out of here before he figures out where we went.”

  He started to move toward the left, but Devi grabbed the back of his jeans, pulling him to a halt. He turned, looking at her quizzically, barely able to see her in the dim light of the red exit sign.

  “Here.” She pressed something into his hand, and when he looked down, he saw a tiny baggie with two pills. “Inside Oscar,” she said, before he had time to ask.

  His chest welled, relief flooding his body. “Oh, babe,” he said. “I love you.”

  Her smile was small and teasing. “I know. Now take the damn pills.”

  Since he wasn’t about to argue with that, he popped the pills into his mouth, hesitating only briefly over the fact that he had no idea what he was taking. He took comfort in the fact that the antidote had worked for Mel. Surely the rules of the game hadn’t changed in that regard.

  Devi watched him curiously, as if she was certain he was going to turn all different shades of purple. Andy watched him, too, but his face was more impassive, and Blake had the uncomfortable urge to apologize for not dying. Like, Sorry, chum. She’s mine, and I’m not leaving.

  He brushed that off, feeling like an ass for being even the tiniest bit jealous. Andy had been nothing but helpful, and he was doing his damnedest to protect Devi even though it had to be clear to the man that his crush wasn’t reciprocated.

  “Are you okay?” Devi asked, her hand on his arm.

  “I’m still breathing,” he said. “I guess we’ll know in a few hours if it worked.”

  “It worked,” she said, with more conviction than he felt.

  “She’s right,” Andy said. “You’re fine now.”

  Blake turned to him quizzically, but the other man just shrugged. “That’s the way the game works,” Andy says. “It’s not a game if the rules can change on a dime.”

  Tell that to Mac, Blake thought, but he kept it to himself. Instead, he pointed into the interior of the building. “I might be safe, but Devi isn’t. We need to keep moving.”

  He veered off to the left, Devi right behind him. “Watch your step,” he called back in a low whisper. “We must be inside the engineering for one of the shows.”

  They crawled through a maze of metal pipes and tubing, finally ending up in an open section, low-ceilinged with thin pipes running in parallel lines above them. An odd room, to be sure, but on the far side, he saw a door, marked with yet another red Exit sign.

  “I feel like Alice,” Devi said, probably referring to the fact that the low ceiling made them feel like giants.

  “Crouch down so you don’t hit your head on the pipes,” Andy said as they started forward.

  “What’s that smell?” Devi asked.

  “I don’t sme—” But then he did. Something almost sweet, but still sickly, like—

  Shit.

  “Hit the ground!” he said, just as the flames erupted above them, from the natural gas flowing out of the pipes above their head.

  Devi screamed, and Blake shoved her to the ground. The three of them shimmied forward, holding their breath, their hands burning on the tiled floor. Asbestos, Blake realized. Where the fuck were they?

  They reached the exit door, and he thrust himself against it. It didn’t budge, and he felt a ball of panic building. But there was no way in hell he went through all of that bullshit to get the antidote only to get fried in the engineering components of some show.

  He gave it another shove, this time with Andy at his side. The door burst open, and they tumbled out onto a carpeted walkway filled with people.

  A little boy standing by them screamed, and they jumped to their feet,
flustered, and then kicked the door closed again.

  A guide was leading the group, and she stared at them, her mouth hanging open.

  “Right,” Blake said. “Sorry.” He started to shove through the crowd, moving against the traffic toward what he was sure was the show’s entrance. And all the while, he was thanking God they’d survived. Because he’d gotten a good look at the room.

  They were right in the middle of the Backdraft show. The one about the firefighters battling the killer flames.

  Which put a whole new spin on that saying: Out of the frying pan, and into the fire.

  Chapter 49

  Ten minutes later, I still feel hot. And I still can’t believe we survived. Janus or the fire. But we did. And Blake had the antidote. And as far as I could tell, we’d lost Janus.

  For the time being, anyway.

  Except for being a little sooty and a lot shook up, we’re doing okay. We’re crouched in a corner, sucking down water and soda that feels so good on our charred throats.

  This bit of respite, though, is just an illusion, because the game is still in full force. Yes, we’ve found the antidote—thank God—but the toxin in Blake’s blood was just the kill switch; just an incentive to get me to play the game. A horrible game where I’m trying to follow the clues to stay one step ahead of an assassin who’s stepped right out of my nightmares.

  Solve the clues, win the game. But even if I manage to elude Janus all the way to the last clue—even if, like Mel, I see that wonderful computer message reading “Game Over”—I don’t think I’ll really believe it. How can I, unless Janus is dead?

  And oh, how I want him dead.

  Right now, though, I have to focus on the game. I have to push my fears aside. Win the game. Survive. And worry about the rest later.

  The only trouble is that we don’t have the next clue. I’d left the smashed Oscar statue on the floor of the employee locker room. At the time, I’d been thinking only of grabbing the two pills and getting out of there. Now, I can’t believe I ran off without it.

  “We go back,” Blake says, as soon as I voice my concern.

  “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “No,” he says. “But the only way to keep you safe is to get that clue.”

  “Let’s get some clean clothes first,” Andy says. “For one thing, we stink. For another, Janus is probably still out there, keeping a lookout for us.”

  He has a point. The place is completely crawling with tourists, so it was easy enough to get lost in the crowd. But at the moment we’re far too recognizable. So we take Andy up on his suggestion and end up buying oversize Universal Studios T-shirts and black caps. I’d wanted some sweatpants, too, but there were none to be found. So instead I look like a little girl, with my extra-large shirt and the baggy shorts I’d stolen from the beach.

  If Miuccia Prada could see me now…

  We have a short heart-attack moment when we realize that Oscar isn’t on the floor in front of locker 1964 anymore, but then Andy has the brilliant idea of checking the trash can. Sure enough, that’s where he is.

  With the base stuck in my pocket and the body stuck in Andy’s, we head back out to the plaza area, this time forgoing the escalator for the very long set of stairs—just in case we have to make a run for it.

  We huff up to the top level, carefully checking faces as we walk, but there’s no sign of Janus.

  “So now we leave?” I ask, pausing to catch my breath at the top.

  “Not yet,” Andy says. “The only way out is through the main gate. If he’s waiting just outside the turnstiles, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  I’m not crazy about the metaphor, but I can’t disagree. “So what are we going to do?”

  “Waste time,” Blake says. “And then leave carefully.”

  And since neither Andy nor I have a better suggestion, that’s exactly what we do. Which means that I get my tram ride after all.

  Since that’s the longest feature in the park, we stand in line for it, feeling a bit antsy until we’re actually seated and can see that Janus isn’t seated anywhere near us. I’d half considered playing the celebrity card and getting moved to the front of the line, but the word of the day was low-profile, and that just didn’t fit the bill.

  Soon, we’re being guided through the backlot, hearing stories about old movies, seeing the discarded set pieces and building facades, and getting caught up in the kitschy stuff like the pretend earthquake in the subway. We see Six Points Texas, Little Europe, Amity Island from Jaws, and much more.

  Sitting there so close to Blake, our bodies pressed together and our hands held tight, feels right. Romantic. And as we enter one of the tunnels and the world turns dark, Blake sneaks a kiss that’s even hotter than the flames we’ve just escaped. I know it’s only the calm before the storm, but the moment is precious to me, and I eagerly soak it up, knowing full well what awaits me when the tram stops and we return to the real world—and the game.

  The ride is over all too soon, and we get off the tram. Andy’s expression is guarded, and I feel a little guilty, so I reach out, grabbing his hand with my right, so that I’m holding on to the two men in my life who are taking such good care of me. He turns to look at me, and the corner of his mouth lifts. I smile in return, and the little band of guilt around my heart eases a bit.

  “Now?” I ask.

  “One at a time,” Blake says. “Let’s each try to blend in with a group or a family.”

  Blake goes up first, boldly going up to a group of teenage boys who are about to leave and asking them if they can show him where something on the Citywalk is. They try to give directions, he plays stupid, and they end up exiting the park with him.

  There’s no gunfire or screams when he reaches the Universal globe fountain, so I figure it’s my turn. I see a mom with a baby stroller—always a pain to get past those turnstiles—so I trot over and offer to help her out.

  She agrees, and we chat about babies and the park and the California weather as we pass through the exit. I try to look engaged by the conversation even as I’m keeping an eye out for Janus.

  We get through without any hassle, and I’m starting to feel pretty confident.

  That feeling increases as Andy comes up while I’m saying good-bye to my new friend, just as safe and sound as Blake and I.

  “Did he just give up?” I ask, not really believing it.

  “My guess is that he’s relying on the tracker,” Blake says.

  It takes me a second to figure out the ramifications of that, but then I get it. “So you’re saying he still has the tracker aimed at us, and he figures he can just bide his time and wait until we turn up again. Hopefully someplace less crowded next time.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So we can do the hotel thing, right?” I direct this at Andy, who’d suggested it earlier, reminding me that the tracker wasn’t specific enough to pinpoint where we were in a hotel. Just like, apparently, it couldn’t pinpoint us in a theme park.

  “Absolutely,” he says. “What’s nearby?”

  “Let’s go downtown,” I say. “Someplace like the Radisson. It’s huge and tall. That’s gotta confuse a tracking device.”

  “And while we’re there, we’ll inspect everything,” Blake said. “If we can find the damn thing, we can hide it on the subway. That should keep the bastard entertained.”

  I have to laugh at that, not only because the image is so amusing, but because as a native Angelino, it still amazes me that we have a real, true subway. Considering it’s been around for well over a decade, you’d think I’d be used to it, but I’m not. And I get a kick every time I step on the thing.

  We’re walking as we make our plans, and by the time we’re in agreement about where to go, we’re midway down the Citywalk. We’d walked down the Citywalk on our way into Universal, but at the time my attention had hardly been focused on the place. Now I take a better look, because it has been years since I’d been here, and it’s changed. It’s full o
f even more stores. More lights. More color. More noise. There are kiosks everywhere, some open for business, some shut down and waiting for the weekend. People flow in and out of restaurants, and in front of us, water squirts up from a fountain in the ground that has attracted a group of kids. All in all, loud, campy, and fun.

  Best of all, though, are the shops. Lots of them, ranging from clothes to toys and right back to clothes.

  “You have that look,” Blake says.

  “What look?”

  “That I-want-to-go-shopping look.”

  “I do not,” I say, but not very enthusiastically since, of course, he’s totally busted me. “Okay, maybe a little, but only because there are some fun stores here, and I really could use a pair of jeans.” I’d seen a particularly cute pair in a window, and now I take his hand to tug him with me to the right.

  That’s when the pain rips through me, sharp and hot, and so intense that I’m not even sure where it’s coming from.

  “Fuck!” Blake yells, even as I realize that I’m clutching my shoulder, and that blood is spreading like water under my fingers.

  I open my mouth to speak—to scream—but nothing comes out. Instead, my knees go weak, and I collapse down on the hard stone of the Universal Citywalk.

  Chapter 50

  Blake watched in horror as Devi collapsed to the ground. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears, fury building as he dropped beside her, desperate for a sign that she was okay.

  Her chest rose and fell under his hand, and as he listened, he heard her steady breathing, then watched as she shifted and tried to push herself up. Thank God.

  “Stay still,” he ordered as he inspected the wound in her shoulder. “It’s not as bad as it feels. I promise.”

  All around him, a crowd had gathered, but through the throng of people, he saw Janus positioning himself to get off the kill shot.

  No way. No fucking way.

  He was on his feet in seconds, his body on alert and fueled by rage. He stormed forward, not thinking, just letting his training take over.