Deadly Embrace (40 page)

"I don't have a phone," Madison said. "You took
it—remember?"

"Fuck! Ace—" he said, turning around. "Get me a fuckin'
phone."

At last a name. Ace. Probably a nickname.

Was Ace the one with the snake tattoo on his neck? No, Ace was the
third one—the shorter guy with the sack full of loot and a
pierced nose.

Ace fished in the black plastic garbage bag jammed on his knee. He
soon located a cell phone, which he handed to the front.

The gunman took it and thrust it at Madison. "Call 'em. Do it
now!"

"Please don't hurt us," the girl in the back of the van moaned.
"Please,
please
, why can't you let us go?"

"Shut the fuck up!" he said, turning back to Madison. "Come on,
bitch
! Make the call."

"Who am I supposed to call?" she asked. "Did they leave you a
number?"

"Don't diss me, lady. Call nine-one-one. Tell 'em if the copter's
not outta here in two minutes, one of you is gettin' thrown out."

She took the cell phone and dialed 911. A dispatcher answered.

"This is Madison Castelli," she said as calmly as she could
manage. "I'm one of the hostages from the restaurant on Beverly
Boulevard. We're in the van. Please listen carefully—you have
to tell the cops that they've got to get the helicopter above us
away. If they don't, they're throwing a hostage from the van."

The gunman grabbed the phone from her and hurled it in the back.
"You'd better hope they do what you told 'em," he said. " 'Cause if
they don't, one a you mothafuckers is gonna hit the sidewalk."

By the time Karl Edgington was released from jail, Michael had
accumulated a great deal of money of his own. And since he was paying
taxes on most of it, it was perfectly legitimate. He'd followed
instructions for the last four years, and every time he made an
investment with Karl's money, he'd made one of his own. Now that Karl
was out, he wondered what would happen next.

Warner called and suggested they meet for dinner at "21."

"I thought Karl would prefer me to come see him," he said.

"No," Warner replied. "Karl feels a social occasion is a better
venue. So dinner it is."

"If that's what he wants."

"It's the safest way," Warner assured him.

Michael had never been to "21," although he was well aware that it
was a very famous restaurant. He took a trip to Saks and bought
himself a new suit, shirt, tie, and shoes for the occasion. He wanted
to look his best. He also wanted to continue working with Karl.

Over the last few months many things had happened. He'd rented a
decent three-bedroom apartment, hired a nanny, and moved Madison in
with him. She spent most weekends over at Tina and Max's, but then so
did he when he wasn't flying back and forth to Vegas.

His affair with Dani was going well. Every few weeks he got on a
plane and visited her. She was always happy to see him, and they had
a great time just hanging out. They always stayed at his hotel, even
though Dani had a house. She never mentioned going there, and when he
said he'd like to, she explained it was too soon for him to meet her
son.

"Too soon for what?" he'd asked, last time he was there. "We've
been seeing each other for three months. Don't you think it's time I
met him?"

"Maybe on your next trip," she'd said. "Only, you still can't stay
at my house."

"How come?" he'd asked, perplexed.

"Vincent's too young. It wouldn't look right."

"You really are an old-fashioned girl, aren't you?"

"Something wrong with that?"

He didn't mind. He liked that about Dani. She wasn't a tramp who'd
been around the block a hundred times.

She wasn't Beth either, but then Beth was unique.

He'd been thinking very seriously about taking things further.
Before he did that, he had to meet her son and get to know him. If
things worked out, he expected Dani to give up her job and move to
New York, which was for the best, because he wasn't crazy about her
parading around the stage with her boobs on display.

Recently he'd persuaded her to request a week off so that she
could come and visit him in New York. He liked the idea of being in a
different environment, where they could discuss their future together
without the distraction of her appearing in her show every night.

She'd finally agreed. He was looking forward to her visit. She'd
never met Madison, and he was hoping she'd fall in love with his
adorable and smart little girl. If she did, and Madison liked
her
, then marriage was
definitely
an option.

"You're acting like the queen is coming to town," Tina complained
as they ran around town purchasing new sheets and towels and dishes,
preparing for Dani's arrival.

"Just making things nice."

"This
really
must be love, huh?" Tina said as they wandered
around the bedding department in Bloomingdale's.

"You could say it's serious."

"I'm glad for you," Tina said, inspecting sheets. "Uh, Michael,"
she said hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"Have you told her about Beth yet?"

"What about Beth?"

"Y'know," Tina said awkwardly. "The thing that happened, the, uh
... murder."

It was a subject he never cared to address. And yet he knew Tina
was right, he had to reveal everything to Dani.

"I'm tellin' her this weekend," he said abruptly. "It's something
I couldn't get into before."

"You
have
to tell her, Michael," Tina said, her pretty face
quite grave. "You were accused of
killing
Beth. I mean, you
were all over the papers here. You're lucky nobody's mentioned
it."

"You're right," he said. He knew what he had to do, he didn't need
a goddamn lecture.

"We all know you didn't do it," Tina continued.

"Thanks," he said dryly.

Later in the week he had dinner with Karl and Warner. Warner
brought along her friend Stella, a beautiful young woman who could
have doubled for Marilyn Monroe, with her shoulder-length platinum
hair, creamy skin, pouty lips, and voluptuous figure.

"What do
you
do?" he asked, making polite conversation.

"I'm a showroom model," she said, sipping a martini, her hazel
eyes checking out the room. "I model clothes for the out-of-town
buyers when they come into the city. Warner used to model with me.
Now she's getting her own costume jewelry business together. Karl's
helping her."

"Sounds like a good idea."

"It is. Warner's an excellent businesswoman. She's always been
interested in designing."

Designing. The very word reminded him of Beth.
I'm going to be
the biggest dress designer in the world
, Beth had boasted. If
she'd lived, she probably would have made it, he thought. Beth could
have accomplished anything she set her mind to.

"Are you and Karl old friends?" Stella asked, toying with the stem
of her martini glass.

"Kind of," he said, returning to the present. "You're lovely,
Stella, only I hope you realize this evening is
purely
business."

"I didn't imagine it was a blind date," she said caustically.
"
I'm
here as a favor to Warner." She sipped her martini. "I
wouldn't go on a blind date. Never have, and never will."

"I can see that you wouldn't need to."

She smiled—a dreamy, Marilyn Monroe—like smile.
"You've got that right."

When the girls went off to the powder room, Karl started talking.
"I'm pleased with the way you've handled yourself, Michael," he said.
"You've done everything I've asked of you, and more besides. I hope
you've made yourself a lot of money along the way."

"I've done okay."

"Then there is no reason why we shouldn't continue with this
arrangement."

"Why would you need me, now that you're out?"

"It's always good to spread one's assets around. Take my advice
and do the same thing. Employ your friends, and give them ten
percent. You'd be surprised how well this works."

Interesting man, Karl Edgington.

Getting on with his life and being a responsible father to Madison
meant putting his past behind him, and that's exactly what he'd tried
to do. Much as he wanted vengeance for his mother's death—and
he certainly craved revenge for Beth's murder—he'd decided that
the most prudent thing to do was nothing. He could not risk getting
sent back to jail. Madison was his priority now; he had to be there
for her.

That didn't mean that Marnie or Bone was forgotten. Eventually an
opportunity would present itself, and if that opportunity was
completely foolproof, he'd do something about it.

Once in a while he got together with Vito Giovanni, who was now
living with his favorite stripper, Western Pussy.

"This girlie is the greatest," Vito crowed. "Come see her one
night. I'm gonna make her a star."

"A star of what?" Michael asked.

"Porno. It's all the rage. This kid can do anything."

"You want your girlfriend to be a porno star?"

"Why not? She gets off on it. To tell you the truth," Vito said
with a lewd wink, "so do I."

No accounting for taste.

The following night, Vito took him to the Gentlemen's Club, where
Western Pussy was performing. Michael had no desire to go, but since
he now handled all of Vito's investments, it seemed prudent to keep
him happy.

When Western Pussy hit the stage, the male audience began whooping
and hollering with enthusiastic delight.

She was one of those in-your-fece strippers with attitude, her
most noticeable asset being her boobs, a fully enhanced 46D.
Something Vito had forgotten to mention.

As she whirled around the stage, doing things that only a
contortionist could usually manage, Vito chortled with laughter.

"Ain't she something?" he said, slapping Michael on the back.
"Greatest little girl in the world."

"Little" was hardly the word to describe Western Pussy. Michael
was transfixed. He'd never seen anyone quite like her. It had always
amazed him that men were turned on by strippers. If you couldn't
touch, what was the point of looking?

Later that night, Vito invited him to join Western and himself for
dinner at his favorite steak house. Although Western was all over
Vito, she couldn't resist nudging her leg up against Michael's thigh
under the table.

Jesus! From Marnie to this. What next?

The moment he got home, he phoned Dani. Her kid answered the
phone.

"Hi," he said. "Is your mommy around?"

"She's not back yet," the boy said.

"This is Michael."

He waited for the boy to say something like,
Oh yeah, I know
who you are. Mommy's told me all about you
.

Nothing.

"Michael, your mommy's friend," he said. "Has she mentioned
me?"

"Nope."

"She hasn't? Okay, well, you and I are gonna meet. What are you
into—baseball, football, or basketball? What's your game?"

"I like'em all."

"Next time I come out there, we'll get together."

"Bye."

Michael replaced the receiver. Why hadn't she mentioned him to her
son? They were going together, for God's sake. Okay, so he didn't
live in the same city, but they
were
going together.

He got into bed, put on the TV, and fell asleep watching Johnny
Carson on
The Tonight Show
. He dreamt about Beth. Or at least
he thought it was Beth; it might have been Dani. He couldn't remember
which one it was when he woke up. Was that a good sign?

He didn't know.

Soon Dani would be here, and he could start figuring out their
future. He couldn't wait.

Whenever Dean came into town, he took Dani to dinner.

"What does your wife think of all these trips?" she asked. As far
as she was concerned, they had settled into the perfect platonic
relationship, which suited her fine. Only, she wasn't sure how his
wife back in Houston felt about him still seeing her.

"I have business here, Dani," he explained. "Morgan and I run a
company together."

"I wasn't aware of that."

"I told you," he said. "Obviously you weren't listening."

"Sorry," she murmured.

"It's a business we started a year ago. Something to do with
cattle."

"That's interesting."

"So interesting that you don't remember."

"I
said
I'm sorry."

"More important," he said, leaning toward her, "how are
you
doing?"

"Really good," she said, sipping her wine.

"You look great. In fact, you look glowing." He hesitated a
moment, almost afraid to ask. "Don't crush my heart and tell me
you've met someone?"

"As a matter of fact," she said, breaking into a helpless smile,
"I have."

Dean felt a stab of jealousy. Even though he was married to
someone else, he still had feelings for Dani. She was the one who got
away, and he'd always love her.

"Who is this mystery man?" he asked, trying to keep it light.

"He's not such a mystery."

"No? Then how come you've never mentioned him?"

"I don't know," she said vaguely. "I think I wanted to make sure
it was going somewhere."

"And is it?"

She smiled. "Be happy for me, Dean. I'm happy for
you
."

"Sure, Dani. If you've found the right guy, that's wonderful. But
I
would
like to know more about him."

"What are you—my father?" she said, laughing.

"I watch out for you, Dani. This is a tough town."

"You're telling
me
?" she said, putting down her wineglass.
"I've been meaning to ask you, Dean. How come you never bring your
wife with you? I'm sure I'd enjoy meeting her."

"You'll meet her."

"When?"

"Soon," he said impatiently, anxious to resume talking about
Dani's boyfriend.