“So? What does that have to do with me?”
“Well, let’s see. Why don’t we try to panic that guy, and he might go ahead and do something to Addison? You know he has goons that take care of situations like this. I hear that he’s not exactly a choir boy. He has one of the biggest casting couches in town. Everybody’s been on that couch, from what I hear. But Addison is the only one who hasn’t been consensual. So, he’s in trouble, but he can probably get out of it without criminal charges and with a minimum amount of damage, if Addison keeps her mouth shut about him. So, why don’t we start the rumor that Addison is ready to jump? She’s ready to go the police and tell them all about what a bad boy he’s been? Let’s see if we can get Jackson to spring into action and do what he has to do to shut her up.”
Violet thought that this plan was as good as any. Let Addison be somebody’s else’s problem. She didn’t think that Jackson would actually have Addison killed, but she wouldn’t be at all surprised if Jackson thought of some other way of getting rid of her. Maybe pull some strings to get her working on an obscure movie in outer Siberia. Right now, Addison was hungry. She wasn’t on top anymore, and she wanted to be. Jackson could get some kind of blackmail scheme going to where Addison was going to have to do what he wanted, and if what he wanted was for her to work on a movie in some obscure location for six months to a year, that would give Violet and Michael some breathing room.
Then again, Jackson just might be capable of putting a hit on Addison. If he was desperate enough, he might try getting rid of her for good. If he did, then that would take care of the problem, once and for all.
“What are you saying?” Michael asked Violet.
“I’m simply saying that if Jackson gets desperate, he might take care of the Addison problem for us. If he doesn’t, then we’re just going to have to take matters into our own hands. You have that fixer. He’s fixed all of your other bimbo issues. Every one of them. Maybe he can fix this one, too.”
Michael sighed and put his head in his hands. “All my other affairs never ended in a pregnancy. They were much easier to be put to bed, no pun intended. All those other women could also be taken care of with cash. Addison has no use for more money. She’s worth hundreds of millions as it is. We’re going to have to think of something else.”
At that, Violet smacked Michael on the side of his head. She was so angry that he was so careless. He was about to destroy both of them, with one fell swoop.
“Okay. I’ll think of something else. But I can guarantee you that it won’t be pretty,” she said.
If there was one thing that Violet knew, it was that these situations never ended well. They could be contained, but never actually extinguished.
Unless Addison turned up dead.
Chapter 14
August 26 - Five days after Addison goes missing.
I got the two girls home, and they were immediately treated to the sight that is my mother, as well as getting their first look at my condo. As Luna walked around the place, she looked around with wonder. She went out to the balcony and leaned on it.
“Oh my God, Emerson, this is so beautiful!” she said as she listened to the ocean come in.
She turned around, and there, in all her glory, was Margot Justice, my mother. She was dressed, thank God, but she wasn’t wearing much. She was wearing a form-fitting dress that barely covered her butt. Her wild red hair was pulled up on top of her head, and I could see that she had spent that day smoking a lot of weed. Her eyes were little tiny slits.
Arabella took one look at her and screwed up her nose. “Hey,” she said to mom. “I hope you know that if I have to live here, you have to share some of that 420.” She sniffed mom. “Girl Scout Cookie. Nice.” She nodded her head approvingly.
Mom giggled and put her arms around Arabella spontaneously. “Oh, I think that I’m going to get along with this little girl just fine.”
I looked at Arabella. “Girl Scout Cookie? What do you mean?” I hadn’t had Girl Scout Cookies in this house, ever. Since I did low-carb, cookies had been verboten in the house.
“It’s a strain of weed,” Arabella said, matter of factly. “It’s some good shit, too.”
“Oh.” I took a deep breath feeling incredibly square. “I see.”
Mom giggled again and came over and pinched my cheeks. “You get so red when you’re embarrassed. But you don’t need to be ashamed of not knowing your weed strains. That just means that you’re a good girl, unlike your crazy mother.”
Arabella was still looking mom up and down. In spite of herself, I could see a slight smile creeping up on her face. “What’s with all this get-up?” she asked. “I mean, you have to be a million years old.” Then she shrugged. “Oh, well, I guess you still got it, so you might as let the whole world know.”
Mom just giggled again, obviously not insulted by Arabella’s clear shot at my mother not acting her age. That was the thing about mom, though - she never let people’s cruel comments get her down. She gave shit less about what people thought of her, and that was always the way that it was. She certainly wasn’t going to change that about herself, nor should she.
Mom twirled around and then stumbled just a little. She was acting strange, even for her, and I figured that she not only had gotten high, but probably had also gotten quite drunk. “So, you two girls are going to be living here too?” She looked right at me. “Where are they going to stay? On the couch?”
“About that…” I began.
“They can stay in your room. You have that California King. The girls can sleep in there, and you can sleep out here in the living room. You can open up those beautiful French Doors and listen to the waves crash all night long. It’ll be peaceful, like a lullaby.”
I felt myself getting irritated as mom spoke. I was the one who was paying for this place, yet I was the one who was going to get displaced? What kind of fairness was that idea?
“Mom,” I said. “We’re obviously going to have to move to a larger place. What that means is that you’re going to have to chip in more if you want to continue to live with me.”
Arabella was just watching the two of us while Luna was still on the balcony, staring at the beach and the waves as if she was in a trance. I could tell that Arabella was sizing us up and figuring out the whole situation.
As for me, I was doing the same. Obviously, Arabella wasn’t going to be able smoke pot with my mother. For that matter, I probably was going to have to tell my mother that she couldn’t smoke pot in the house, either. She also wasn’t going to be able to have her edibles. Those things were way too tempting to have around minors. Luna, who seemed, thus far, to be a sweet, innocent thing, would probably end up eating one of mom’s medicated cookies, which would send her to the hospital. That, in turn, would probably mean that the judge wouldn’t approve this guardianship.
“Mom,” I began. “Listen, there’s going to be a home study and a social worker coming in here. Perhaps you should clean up your act, at least until that gets finished.”
Although I had completed a home study and a background check before the girls came to live with me, I knew that my changed situation was going to necessitate a follow-up home study, although I wasn’t going to get that done until we all moved into a larger place.
Mom apparently didn’t hear me, or, at least, she acted like she didn’t. “What are we going to do about the bedroom situation?” she chirped.
“I said, we’re going to get a larger place. Now, you have to listen to me. You can’t be giving Arabella drugs.”
“What drugs? I don’t do drugs.”
“Marijuana. That’s a drug, mom.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, really. Listen, if a social worker came in here and did a home study and found a bottle of vodka in the liquor cabinet, is she going to tell the judge that you’re unfit to have minor children around? Answer me that.”
“Well, no. I mean, most houses have bottles of alcohol around. I wouldn’t imagine that-”
“Right. Well, in the state of California, my medicated cookies and my buds are as legal as a bottle of Smirnoff. They can’t say a single thing about it.”
Arabella was now looking at the two of us with a smirk on her face. She crossed her arms in front of her and her smirk turned into a full-on grin. “This is going to be great,” she said, looking right at me.
“What’s going to be great?” I asked her.
At that, Luna came up and grabbed her big sister’s hand.
“We can roll this chick,” Arabella said to Luna in a whisper that was loud enough that I could hear.
Luna looked like she didn’t understand. Perhaps she didn’t, but I did.
Arabella sized me up and found that I had no control over what went on in the house with my mother. She obviously decided that it was going to be the same dynamic between her and me.
She was going to try to take advantage of my lack of experience with dealing with kids, and I was going to have to find some way to make sure that she didn’t “roll” me.
I closed my eyes. “Arabella,” I said. “Go to bed.”
“What bed?” she asked me. She looked over at my bedroom door. “I guess the old bat is right. Me and Luna are going to be sleeping in your California King.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, but I didn’t see any way around it.
I was going to have to sleep on the couch for awhile.
Chapter 15
The next day, before everybody woke up, I made a cup of coffee and sat down at my computer. It was quiet in the house, so that was the best time to get some work done. Mom usually slept late, at least until 9 AM, and the girls didn’t have school just yet, as it was still considered to be summertime, so I imagined that they wouldn’t be up for awhile, either.
Getting the girls situated was a real chore. They didn’t have many belongings, but they did have pajamas and a toothbrush, so I attempted to make them both change for bed and get their teeth brushed before they turned in. Arabella refused, saying that she was going to sleep in her t-shirt, thank you very much, and Luna, apparently looking up too much to her big sister, also refused. She, too, was going to sleep in her t-shirt. I did manage to get them both to brush their teeth, although Arabella grumbled about that one, too.
“Mom never made me brush my teeth,” she complained bitterly.
“Well, then, it sounds like I’m going to have to make an appointment for you with my dentist, ASAP. You’re only 14. You’re too young to lose your teeth because nobody made you brush them.”
But Luna took me aside a little bit later. She had come out of the bedroom while I was laying on the couch, wondering exactly how I was going to manage it all. “Arabella lied to you,” she said. “Mom always made us brush our teeth. She’s just trying to get out of it because she doesn’t like doing it. But she has no problem brushing her teeth.”
That was a relief. I had no idea what I was going to do with a kid who never brushed her teeth. I could just imagine the extent of her gum disease and cavities if that were the case.
The other problem, in Arabella’s eyes, was the fact that I had no junk food in the house. Arabella and Luna were both dismayed about that one.
“Where are the Doritos? The boxes of mac and cheese? The Goldfish crackers? The frozen pizzas?” Arabella demanded as she looked through the fridge, freezer and pantry with evident disdain. She picked up the packages of chicken breast and stalks of kale and made a face of disgust. “You’ve got nothing to eat in this place!”
“I don’t buy junk food,” I said to her. “I don’t buy anything that is carbohydrate-based. We only eat meat, vegetables, oil, butter, cheese and bacon in this house. But don’t worry, I’m a really good cook. You won’t miss all that processed junk, believe me.”
“Like hell I won’t,” she said, stomping her feet. “Listen, I know that my mom made you our guardian and all, but I know my rights. I can tell my social worker that you’re starving us, and they’ll take us right out of this place.”
I suppressed a smile. “The social worker won’t take you out because I’m forcing you to eat broccoli instead of Goldfish Crackers,” I said under my breath.
“I heard that,” Arabella announced. “Well, I guess I just won’t eat anything, ever. Because I hate broccoli and Brussels sprouts and kale and chicken and steak and olive oil and all this other crap that you have around this place.” She shrugged. “I do like butter, though. And bacon. Looks like I’m going to be living off of bacon and butter. What a world.”
At that, mom came over to Arabella and gave her a taste of a low-carb chocolate mousse that I had made out of heavy cream, liquid Stevia and unsweetened chocolate. “Taste this,” she said to her. “And tell me that you’re going to be starving.”
Arabella reluctantly tasted it, and then I saw a hint of a smile on her face. She looked so cute with her tiny grin. I wondered what she would look like if her whole face lit up like her sister’s did.
She shrugged. “That’s pretty good, I guess.”
And then she promptly ate the rest of the mousse without another word, and I knew that I was on my way to convincing her to eat what I fixed.
In all, the first evening with the girls was challenging and I knew that I was going to have make adjustments. Not that I was going to back down and fill the house with processed junk. I knew what that stuff does to a body and there was no way that I going to let the girls have it. But I was going to have to figure out how to meet the challenges of having a head-strong teenager under my roof, without going insane. I was lucky, though, because Luna seemed to be the mediator between Arabella and me. She privately told me when Arabella was trying to test me, and that gave me a bit of guidance on how to approach her.
I logged onto my computer while I sipped my coffee, and I didn’t hear Arabella’s footsteps out on the terrace. “This view really is pretty cool,” she said, and I jumped a little. I had been deep in thought and I wasn’t prepared for anybody to interrupt me, so I was slightly startled.
I put my hand on my chest and Arabella smiled her tiny smile. “What’s the deal?” she asked me. “I came up on you, and you jumped 10 feet out of your chair.”
I looked at my watch. “It’s 6 AM. Nobody is ever up with me this early in the morning.”
She sat down on a chair next to me, turning it around and straddling it with her legs, with her chin on the top of the chair. “I’ve always gotten up at the ass-crack of dawn,” she said. “I have no idea why.”
I nodded my head and returned to my computer. I could only give her a small part of my attention, because I wasn’t prepared to have to share my time with her or anybody else.
She peered over at my computer and then she pushed me in my chair. “Oh my God, you’re working that actress case? Rad.” She nodded her head in approval. “All the kids are talking about it. Everyone wants to know what happened to Addison Wentworth.”
I sighed, but didn’t say anything.
“What are you trying to figure out?” she asked me. Then she saw that I was Googling about spoofing, and she nudged me again. “You’re looking online about spoofing, why are you looking online about that?”
I opened my mouth, not sure if I wanted to share the details of this case with Arabella. “I’m working on it as part of my case,” I explained.
“What do you mean, you’re working on it as a part of your case?”
“Nothing. Listen, maybe you should go into the living room and watch television.” I realized that my life was going to change, because my early mornings weren’t going to be mine anymore. At least not as long as Arabella was also an early riser.
That was going to be a problem, because the early mornings were when I got most of my work done. I had to get work done this particular morning, because later on I was going to have to figure out what I was going to do about my career. I had already called Sarah and asked her to bring over my personal belongings out of my old office, as well as a moving service to move my furniture into a storage facil
ity or my new office, if I was able to get a new office quickly enough. But I was going to have to find a new space for my practice, and that might take some time. Therefore, I was going to have to get my research done on Carter’s case before I did any of that. It was hard to get anything done as long as Arabella was bugging me, however.
“I don’t want to watch television. I want to know what you’re doing,” she whined.
I took a deep breath. “Okay. Here’s what I’m doing. I’m trying to figure out how spoofing works. It’s a strong element in my case. At least, it’s one mystery that I have to solve.”
“What do you need to figure out about spoofing?” Arabella was going to persist no matter how many clues I gave her that persisting wasn’t welcome.
“Because.” I gave her a look. She gave me a look right back. “Listen, I don’t want to be rude or anything, but I might have to leave you here with my mother. And I don’t want to do that.”
I was thinking that I was going to have to probably go to a coffee shop to do this research, but I wasn’t ready to leave Arabella with my mother. The interaction between Arabella and my mom last night didn’t exactly make me comfortable. I had no idea if this little girl was joking about smoking pot with my mom, but if there was even a small chance that she wasn’t joking, there was no way that I could ever leave the two of them alone together. My mother made the point, of course, that marijuana was no worse than alcohol. So I wasn’t necessarily worried about the fact that there was marijuana in house. I was, however, worried that Arabella was going to want some of it. It was going to be up to me, the only true adult in his house, to put a stop to that.
“What you gonna do, hire us a nanny?”
“I’m seriously considering that. But for today, I’m going to have to take the two of you to a day camp.”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Seriously? I’m 14. I think I’m old enough to say home by myself.”
“You might be old enough to stay home by yourself, but you’re not old enough to stay home with my mother. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but my mother has no common sense. I can’t trust her to be alone with you girls. So either I take you and Luna to a day camp today, while I look for a nanny, or the two of you have to come schlepping around with me. Somehow, I think that you’re going want the former option, not the latter one.”
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