Random Revenge (Detective Robert Winter Book 1)

by William Michaels

  Melanie had made a little fluttering motion with her hand over her breast, hot. Shifting her voice to make it sound like she couldn’t believe it either, she had replied, “He just can’t resist me. He wants me so badly he once had to practically break down my door to get to me.”

  Nancy leaned forward, wide eyed. “What happened?”

  The director hadn’t revealed to Melanie the exact line of questioning, telling her they wanted to see spontaneous reactions, but Melanie was well prepared for this. Even if she hadn’t tipped Barrett off to this story, Melanie would have worked it in the way a politician delivered talking points no matter what the question. “I was at home watching the Tony Awards, you know I’ve done some theater, right?—and well, I guess I’d fallen asleep, and then, you know, there’s someone in the room with me.” This last part whispered. “I was a little groggy, and not knowing at the time who it was . . .” She’d let her voice drift off.

  “That sounds pretty serious!”

  Melanie had raised her eyebrows. “That’s what the police thought!”

  “You filed a police report?”

  “Did I say that?” Melanie had covered her mouth in mock dismay. “Seriously, it’s kind of a game, you know, we’re all good now.”

  Nancy, smelling the ratings, had pressed on. “Does this happen often?”

  Melanie had allowed her tone to turn a little wistful. “Well, it’s been hard for us to be together as much as he’d like, with the shooting schedule, and all.”

  “We hear that Ashley Hanna might get the role on Shock and Awe that everyone was buzzing about you getting, are you disappointed?”

  Melanie had been prepared for this too. “Oh, that show has twists and turns, you never know how long a character will last. I mean, if they are really going to go soft and cuddly, Ashley will be great, but can she do edgy?”

  “So how does Ashley Hanna fit into all this?”

  “That’s a good question, isn’t it? Maybe you should ask her!” Melanie loving the idea, wouldn’t that be the icing, the famous Ashley Hanna being pressed about Melanie Upton.

  All together, deftly done, if Melanie did say so herself. She’d study the tape later, in real time and in slow motion, to see how she looked. She was good, but realistic enough to know she could be better.

  Melanie could practically hear the voiceover lead-in promoting the show: Does Ashley Hanna know about Jason’s other woman? Hear the shocking details tonight!

  No matter how they’d play it, Melanie would be in the spotlight—and she’d have a claim that would one up even Ashley Hanna. Everyone would be dying to know: Who could possibly draw the attention of new heartthrob Jason Ayers away from the wonderful Ashley Hanna?

  Melanie Upton, that’s who.

  The more vehemently Jason or Ashley denied it, the more viewers would think it was true.

  The story was so big that Barrett planned to move up the schedule, airing it as fast as they could get the editing done. The show staff had done well by Melanie, treating her like a star, like she was the big news. Melanie would remember that, invite them all to a screening someday.

  The soundproofing of the limo drowned out the traffic. Melanie could get used to this, her own limo, a personal driver who stocked the bar with her favorite drinks. She was so close . . .

  It would be a tightrope to walk for a while, to be sure. Laying just enough information out there about Jason to stay in the spotlight. She’d likely get one big shot, and she couldn’t afford to blow it. Soon it would be her time, she’d be the hot commodity, on everyone’s lips. All she had to do was parlay that into the payday, climb aboard her rocket, and kick those one step at a time, pay your dues ladders to the curb.

  Melanie was getting a buzz on, the drinks on an empty stomach, she’d been too wired to eat. The buzz grew more persistent. Her phone. Could it be another casting call already? Why not?

  Not a casting call. Gigi.

  Not a real letdown, Melanie happy to share. “Hey, Gigi, I’ve got great news.”

  "Mel, I'm really worried."

  "What? What’s wrong?” Melanie alert, something in Gigi’s voice.

  "This whole situation—I can't stop thinking about it, I can't sleep, I can't anything."

  “You mean the break-in?” Melanie asked.

  “Of course the break-in, what do you think I'm talking about?”

  Melanie wasn’t ready to come down from her high. Even for Gigi. “You're blowing everything out of proportion.”

  "And you're not taking it seriously."

  “Why? Did something happen?”

  “No. I just think I need to tell someone in case he comes back here. Do you know how I'd feel if it happened to someone else? I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

  That was so like Gigi, Melanie should have predicted this, she’d just had too much on her mind. "You don't have to worry, I'm taking care of it."

  “You've dealt with the police but that doesn't take care of the apartment complex. I saw the building super today—”

  “You didn't say anything, did you?”

  “No, but I should.”

  “Don't say a word. We talked about this, you don't want people at work to find out about it, and I've already told the police it was me.”

  “Maybe you shouldn't have done that.”

  “Too late, it's done, so just keep quiet about it.” Melanie softened her tone. “Please.”

  “I'm really afraid . . .”

  “I'm coming over. Don't do anything until I get there, okay?”

  “Okay—”

  Melanie didn’t give Gigi a chance to change her mind. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Melanie said and hung up.

  Now it was the front window Gigi peered through, anxiously waiting for Melanie. As soon as she stepped into the apartment Gigi felt much better, throwing her arms around her sister. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!”

  “Hey, it’s alright. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “I’m just not used to being afraid again. I’d almost forgot how bad it was. I haven’t felt this way since—”

  “Shh. You really need to stop thinking like that. You’re a strong woman on the inside, you can be strong on the outside.”

  Gigi reluctantly pulled away. Mel was the strong one, not her. “Can I get you some tea?”

  “Sure.”

  “What kind would you like?” Gigi said over her shoulder, glad to be doing something useful instead of staring out the window.

  “Whatever you have.”

  Gigi busied herself with the water, setting out some mugs on the small island as Melanie sat. That same dog barked and Gigi flinched, her hands shaking so hard the mug rattled against the counter.

  “Jesus, Gigi, you need to calm down.”

  “What if he comes back?”

  “I’ll kick his ass.”

  “But you aren’t here all the time.” Gigi tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.

  “What brought this on? You need to tell me if something happened.”

  “No, just—. I’m scared.”

  “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

  “But what if he breaks in again? What if he attacks me when I’m going to my car? Or coming in the apartment?”

  “Gigi, the chances of that happening are no different now than they were before. You think you’re the only person whose apartment got broken into? I can’t tell you how much I’ve spent fixing my busted door, they’ve broken in so many times.”

  Gigi fought back her first thought, That’s why I spend all this money on rent, so I can live in a better neighborhood. She recognized what Mel was trying to do, bolster her with tough love. It wasn’t Mel’s fault that she’d been defiled.

  “It’s not just the break-in, it’s—Mel, he may have touched me.”

  “I thought you said nothing happened that night?”

  “I don’t know anymore. I can’t think straight. I can’t even sleep in my bed, you know? I keep feel
ing him in the room. In the bed.”

  The teapot whistled, making her jump again. All at once she started to cry.

  Melanie reached her arm around, cradling her, Gigi melting to the touch. Hard as Melanie could be on the outside, the cool veneer, Melanie had always been warm to her; it was as if Gigi could tap into the good part of her sister’s raw emotional heat. She did feel safer, and she’d pity anyone who was on the receiving end of that heat, since she’d seen how Melanie could transform it to wrath.

  Maybe not that much pity. Whoever had broken in didn’t deserve pity.

  Gigi straightened up. “Let me get your tea.” She carefully poured the water, half expecting a new sound to make her jump. “You said you had some news?”

  Melanie lit up. “I do! You know that show The Other Woman? I just came from a taping, I’m going to be on it.”

  “What? Isn’t that about affairs? You’re not married . . . wait, Mel, are you having an affair with a married man?”

  “It’s not just about married people. Just, you know, a secret lover.”

  “Who?”

  “Remember Jason Ayers? He’s been—after me again. But he’s on this new series—I know you don’t watch much television, but he’s going to be big, and he’s been dating Ashley Hanna.”

  “Ashley Hanna? The singer?”

  “Can you believe it? He has Ashley Hanna, and he can’t keep his hands off me. You have to keep it a secret, okay? Until the show airs.”

  “Gee, Mel, who am I going to tell?” And why would she want to?

  “It will be out soon enough. I’ll be famous. It’s the break I need.”

  Gigi couldn’t understand why Mel would see dirty gossip as a break, but Mel probably had a plan. “I’m glad for you, I guess,” she said. “When is it on?” Trying to be polite, this wasn’t how she was hoping to see Melanie on screen.

  “Soon. Once it does, things will finally start coming together for me, I know it. I just needed a break, I deserve a break. Jason is it.”

  Gigi hadn’t seen Jason in years. She remembered him mostly because Jason was one of the few of Mel’s many men her sister had actually referred to by name.

  “What’s Jason think about all this?”

  Melanie flicked her hand. “Don’t worry about him. He’d do the same to me if the roles were reversed. It’s a tough business.”

  “I’m glad I’m not in it.” Gigi didn’t have her sister’s toughness or her confidence. It had always been that way and would never change. Sometimes she couldn’t believe they were sisters, Melanie so beautiful, so self assured. Their bodies and features were actually pretty similar, yet their personas a world apart.

  Gigi drank her tea, not sure how happy to be for Mel. It’s what she wanted, making it big. They were so different in what they wanted as well, Mel reaching for the limelight, Gigi happy in the shadows.

  The shadows made her think of the back yard, the need for the security light. The fear descended, icy fingers grabbing at her. If she felt this way with Mel here, how was she going to be by herself?

  “Mel, about the super. What if I don’t tell him exactly what happened, but just say that I saw a prowler? Maybe they could start some patrols, have more lights installed.”

  “The less you talk about it the easier it will be.”

  “Not for me.”

  Melanie sighed. “Okay. If it will make you feel better, tell him—tell him just what you said. You saw some guy lurking around back. That’s it.”

  Gigi brightened. “I’ll feel better, just by doing that.” She had seen a prowler, or she thought she had, so it would be like telling the truth. All she had to do was leave out the part about him being inside, not outside. Maybe she could just leave the super an anonymous note.

  “But remember, if the police come talk to you—I doubt they will, but just in case—just tell them what we agreed, okay?”

  The super was one thing, the police totally different. “I don’t know if I can lie to them. You know I’m not good at lying.”

  “It’s easy. I was upset, I called you and came over. Which was true, I was here later. Focus on that part, the truth. That’s all you have to say. It will help you feel better. The more you repeat that nothing happened here, the more you’ll believe it too.”

  “But something did happen.”

  “Listen, Gigi, I didn’t want to bring this up, but—.” Mel’s voice softened. “Remember those boys who were after you, the one who put his hands on you? How often do you think about them?”

  Gigi grimaced. “Not very. It was a long time ago.”

  “That’s not it at all. You don’t think of them because I took care of the situation. Just like I’m taking care of it now. Pretend it never happened.”

  “I can’t pretend. I’m not an actress like you.”

  “Then just keep repeating that it didn’t happen here, or that you imagined it. Like a bad dream.” Melanie touched Gigi’s hand. “I’m not trying to make light of this. If something really bad had happened, we’d be handling this differently. But nothing did. You’re going to be fine. You are fine.”

  Gigi wished she had her sister’s strength. What would Melanie have done that night? Probably jumped out of bed and kicked his ass, just like she had said. Trying to sound more confident than she felt, she said, “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “Good. Now, one more thing. If someone from the press should contact you—”

  “The press? Why would the press want to talk to me?”

  “Not about you. About me. Once that show airs, word may get out, you know, about what I reported—not what you reported, what I reported. About a break-in. People may start to mix the two stories up, me being in a jealous relationship, some kind of assault.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Gigi, I can’t control the press.”

  “Is that what this is all about? Publicity for you? You told the police you were assaulted so you can get on television?” Not knowing where the insight came from, perhaps their shared genes, perhaps the glittering excitement in Mel’s eye, perhaps Gigi’s own shared responsibility.

  “It’s not like that. I was trying to protect you. I would have helped you anyway, you know that. But if I can get a little something out of it, why not?”

  Gigi was still grappling with the implications of what Mel was doing. “You seem pretty happy about getting attention too.”

  “I’ve always had your best interests at heart. And I’ve always looked out for you. Haven’t I?”

  Gigi couldn’t deny that. “Yes, I suppose you have.”

  “Well, why question me now? All I was saying is that if the press comes after me I can handle it. Would you want to deal with them? Or the police?”

  “Mel, please, there must be another way for you. You don’t have to do this. We can still tell the truth, you can get them to cancel the show—”

  Melanie grabbed her arm, Mel’s voice shifting, a voice from Gigi’s past, filled with the same wrath as when Gigi had been touched in school.

  “Gigi, don’t cross me up here, okay? I got enough people I need to jump over without you adding to it.”

  Gigi couldn’t meet her eyes. What had Mel got herself mixed up in? Fighting back tears, she mumbled, “Whatever you say.”

  And just like that, Gigi was a part of it. The realization was as scary as her fear of another attack.

  Melanie’s grip relaxed, her touch now one of protection. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” The big sister once again.

  Gigi couldn’t face the idea of being in her bed. She wasn’t that strong. “I’ll take the spare bedroom. You can sleep in my room.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Lenny stared wistfully at the new Canon camera body in the display case. Too many megapixels to count, to even matter, but speedy in low light, exactly what he needed. That was the camera he was supposed to have, the one he should have had by now. Yet he wasn’t here to buy, he was trying to sell one of his lenses. He was broke.

 
He was always broke. He hadn’t had much money in LA, but he got by, he knew where he could always make a twenty if he was desperate, grabbing photos he could sell. The B list in Hollywood, shit, the C list, the almost not-on-a-list, was better than the A list in Marburg or even Boston. Not that he could afford the gas to get into Boston.

  Absolutely nothing had worked out for him. He’d found it impossible to build up a reliable network of informers who could tip him off to the few celebrities worth shooting. Maybe that’s what he needed to do, start an informant business. But there weren’t enough photographers to sell tips to, even if he had the informers. Why would there need to be more photographers if there weren’t a lot of celebrities?

  Just his luck. He had landed in a place with little competition, and still couldn’t score, since there was nothing to compete over.

  Even worse, his personal life sucked. He was still stuck living with his mother and Tom, both of them increasingly on his case to get a real job. Like he wasn’t busting his ass. As for ass, he hadn’t gotten any in forever.

  What pissed Lenny off the most was that he had almost made it. He had almost found a way out, a jump so big in his life he wouldn’t even be in this shop, drooling over a camera, he could have chucked the whole photography gig and become Melanie Upton’s manager. That plan had been ruined when she had stolen his publicity idea—which would have worked for him, because it was working for her. Lenny searched the internet every day for mention of Melanie, her name coming up steadily even after the fervor over the press conference had died down. Melanie photographed at a fancy Boston club, on a yacht, at parties. He’d seen her in a regional commercial for a chain of boutique clothing stores. There were even rumors of her being considered for a movie role. She’d get out of this rat hole of a city soon and he’d be left behind.

  The last time he’d seen Melanie she’d blown him off again. To make it worse she hadn’t acted any differently after his night with her, more accurately, his few minutes with her. She didn’t seem like the type to just let that slip by. At the restaurant he’d expected her to either scream for help or quit her job right there and walk out with him.