Deadly Embrace (56 page)

"What're you—her shrink?" he said coldly.

He had no interest in Stella anymore. She'd left him, and the
truth was that he was relieved. He wished she'd done it years
earlier.

"I'll talk to her, Michael," Warner promised. "It's better for
both of you to end it."

A few days later, he was in his office when the phone rang. It was
Warner.

"Do you have news for me?" he asked.

Her voice sounded tired and strained, unlike her usual, spirited
tone. "Yes, Michael," she said slowly, "I do."

"So, tell me—is she willing to start divorce
proceedings?"

"It won't be necessary," Warner said haltingly. "Stella and Lucien
are both dead."

"
What
?"

"They were shot in the back of the head, execution style."

"Jesus!" he said, almost dropping the phone.

"Michael, I have to ask you this." A long, silent beat. "Did you
do it?"

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he screamed.

And then he knew.

Bone and Mamie had struck again.

* * *

Madison was confused, angry, and upset. She'd been that way'for a
while. And it was all because of Michael and his bullshit lies.

When he'd revealed that Stella wasn't her mother, and then made up
some story about her real mother getting shot, she'd foiled to
believe him. Somehow his story didn't make sense. So she'd hired a
private detective to find out the real truth. Her detective, Kimm
Florian, came up with plenty of information. She'd presented Madison
with a stack of press clippings about a man called Michael
Castellino, who, of course, was Michael Castelli. Almost thirty years
ago Michael Castellino had been accused of killing the woman he was
living with, and that woman was Madison's mother, Beth.

According to the newspapers he'd been acquitted.

So what? She'd spent her entire life loving a stranger. It was
glaringly obvious that she didn't know Michael at all. And as for
Stella—she realized that's why Stella had always been so cold
toward her. Growing up, she'd thought it was just the way her mother
was, but obviously Stella had never loved her.

It made her so sad. She felt completely disoriented, like an
orphan with nowhere to go.

And then, like a light in the darkness, Jake Sica, the guy she'd
met in L.A., came into town. And this time he was free, with no
romantic entanglements.

They spent an incredible week together holed up in her apartment,
until he had to take off for an assignment in Europe.

Being involved with Jake made her feel good again. She needed
someone who cared about her, because Michael sure as hell didn't.

A few days after Jake left, Michael phoned her. She really didn't
want to talk to him. Not yet. She had too much information to
process.

"I have something important to tell you," he said.

"What?" she answered coldly.

"It's about Stella," he said.

Like she could care about Stella, although she
was
planning
on going to see her when she could summon the mental strength to do
so.

"Go ahead," she said wearily.

"Stella's dead," Michael said. A long beat. "The funeral's
tomorrow. I'd like you to be there."

* * *

Stella's funeral was a somber affair. Jamie and Peter drove Madison
to Connecticut and stayed by her side, looking out for her.

As soon as she arrived at the house, she attempted to comfort
Michael—not thafhe deserved it—but she felt she should
make an effort in view of the tragic circumstances.

He seemed quite calm and collected, not in need of her comfort at
all.

At the reception she spoke to Stella's best friend, Warner, a
woman she'd known since she was a child. When she told Warner that
Michael had revealed the truth about her relationship to Stella,
Warner was shocked. "I never thought he'd tell you."

"He did, and I was hoping Stella could explain. Only, now that
she's gone ..."

"It's such a tragedy," Warner sighed, tears in her eyes. "Stella
was my best friend for over thirty years."

"I know," Madison said. "Can I call you? I have so many unanswered
questions I was hoping Stella could help me with. Maybe you can
answer some of them for me."

Warner nodded. "Call me anytime."

Back in New York, Kimm Florian was waiting with more news. She
informed Madison that she'd discovered that hier real mother, Beth,
had a twin sister, Catherine. And she'd tracked Catherine down to
Miami.

Madison decided to fly to Miami and see what she could find
out.

The detectives working Stella and her boyfriend's murder case came
to question Michael several times. Unfortunately he had no alibi for
the night the murders had taken place. He'd been home alone.

They questioned him endlessly until he finally called in his
lawyer, which he realized he should've done immediately. He had an
uneasy feeling about what was taking place—especially when he
discovered one of his guns was missing.

He had no doubt the murders were Bone and Marnie's work. But why?
If they were planning on implicating him, why hadn't they set a trap
like they had with Beth's murder?

He had to do something about Bone and Marnie. The time had
come.

He called his old pal Gus, in LA, and began making plans.

An eye for an eye.

A tooth for a tooth.

A fucking bullet for a fucking bullet.

Then a few days later he got the call he'd been expecting. Marnie.
Angry and vengeful.

"Mikey," she said sweetly. "It's me, Mamie. I thought you should
know that it was
your
gun that killed your wife and her
boyfriend. Isn't that interesting? So get me my money, or the cops
get your gun. Do it soon, Mikey, or you'll be lookin' at the rest of
your miserable life behind bars."

* * *

Michael got early word of his imminent arrest. It paid to have
friends in the right places.

By the time the police arrived at his house he was long gone.

Destination Los Angeles.

But first he had to make a side trip to Las Vegas. Dani was his
main priority. He'd neglected her, and right now he needed to be with
her, if only for a few hours.

He knew she was probably mad at him for being on the missing list;
however, very soon he would make up for everything.

"You got somethin' for me?" the gunman said, leaning forward to
talk to the man in the front passenger seat of the Cadillac.

"Sure, dude," the man said, groping in his pocket.

Madison sat in silence as the gunman reached over, grabbed a
handful of pills, and crammed them in his mouth.

Nice. Like he isn't stoned enough
, she thought.

"Is this a ransom deal?" she asked wearily. " 'Cause if it is, my
magazine will pay."

"What you talkin'?" the gunman snapped.

"You wanted
me
, didn't you?" she said, watching him
carefully for a reaction. "This was all about
me
."

"Shut the fuck up,
bitch
."

She knew she was right. This was no random holdup. They'd targeted
her right from the beginning.

Why? Was it something she'd written?

Maybe it had to do with the expose she'd had published on L.A.
call girls a few months back, an explosive, raw piece that had been
bought by an independent producer to develop as a movie.

Could
that
be it? Unlikely. But anything was possible.

She took a long, deep, life-affirming breath, trying to ignore the
feet that she was tired, hungry, and thirsty, and that the unbearably
loud rap music was assaulting her ears. Stay alert. Stay alive.

She hoped Cole, Natalie, and the other two hostages were okay.

The horror of the night was beginning to get to her. Three people
possibly dead.

God! This was more than a nightmare, this was devastating.

* * *

Over the years Michael had not forgotten his friends. Gus was one of
them. He'd helped Gus with his investments, and in return Gus was
ready to do anything he wanted. Loyalty counted.

He'd filled Gus in on the situation. Gus had a longstanding feud
with Bone himself—something to do with stepping on each other's
territory.

"The prick's an amateur," Gus informed Michael in the car as they
rode to his house. "Him an' his rinky-dink porno empire. It'll be my
pleasure to put an end to the dumb fuck."

"I should've done it a long time ago," Michael said, thinking that
surprise was on his side. Bone and Mamie would never imagine he'd fly
to L.A. They probably thought he'd be hiding from the cops in New
York, shivering and shaking because of their dumb-ass threats.

Gus was right. They were amateurs. Did they honestly think they
could get away with a carbon copy of Beth's murder? Any competent
lawyer would be able to prove he'd been set up, gun or no gun.

"Mow many men we using?" he asked.

"Enough to get the job done," Gus replied. "Mamie and Bone got
this estate in Bel-Air with shit security. They won't know what hit
'em."

"I want them awake," Michael said grimly. "I
want
them to
know
when I come calling."

"Whatever you want, you got. Now, what we gonna do about your
daughter?"

"Can you find out what's going on?"

"Done," Gus said. "I'll call my connection, get an update on the
situation."

"Thanks, Gus. I appreciate it."

"Big freakin' deal. You made me a coupla mill last year. Somehow I
got a feelin' I owe you."

* * *

As Jolie drove along the Strip behind the wheel of Nando's Ferrari,
she noticed a slew of police cars racing in the opposite direction.
It crossed her mind that they might be heading to the Manray. Then
she thought, why would they be going there? Payoffs were rife in the
city. She was sure Darren and Leroy had things well under
control.

She was still mad at Nando. He shouldn't have exposed her to a
place like that. Vincent was right, it was not the kind of business
they should even consider getting into. The Castle Hotel and Casino
were both doing great, money was plentiful, so jumping into the
sleazy side of things was simply being greedy.

She thought about discussing it with Vincent. It seemed like a
good idea, because with Vincent to back her, perhaps the two of them
could talk some sense into Nando.

On impulse she turned the Ferrari around and, instead of driving
home, headed for the hotel.

* * *

Dani couldn't sleep, her mind was in turmoil. Michael and his
problems. The story of her life.

And she was always there, forever available, ready to comfort,
advise, and pick up the pieces whenever
he
felt like seeing
her. Because there was never a set plan. Michael came and went as he
pleased.

Using her
.

Vincent's words.

The most upsetting thing of all was that when Stella had left him,
he'd never told her. She'd only found out after Stella's brutal
murder.

Why
hadn't
he told her?

Why
hadn't
he asked her to marry him so they could finally
be together?

Damn! He made love to her and she melted. Was that the basis for a
future together?

Marry Dean
.

Vincent's words.

If she married Dean, who genuinely loved her, she'd
have
to
be free of Michael, for she would never cheat on a man she was
married to.

It was a momentous decision, and one she probably shouldn't make
while Michael was in trouble. But how else could she expect to be
happy?

Mrs. Dean King. It was the only way to guarantee a smooth and
happy future.

She'd tell Dean in the morning.

Impatiently waiting for his car outside the hotel, Vincent was
surprised to see Jolie drive up in Nando's Ferrari.

"What are you doing in Nando's car?" he asked. "You know he
doesn't let
anybody
drive it."

"Too bad," she said, getting out and tossing the keys to a valet.
"You won't believe where I'm coming from."

"Where?"

"The Manray."

He knew this was not good news. "Want to tell me about it?"

"I will." She looked around. "Where's Jenna?"

"Over at the Mirage, trapped in a suite with that movie
asshole."

"You mean Andy Dale?"

"Is there another movie asshole on the prowl tonight?"

"I'm so sorry," she said, placing a sympathetic hand on his
arm.

"Don't be sorry," he said edgily. "I've recently come to the
conclusion that I made a big mistake marrying Jenna."

"Really?"

"She's way too young."

"I never thought I'd say this," Jolie ventured, "but you're right.
Jenna is
very
immature."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"Listen," Jolie said warmly. "I can tell that you're pissed off I
am too. So why don't we go inside and have a drink at the bar?"

"I don't know," he said unsurely. "Jenna was crying on the phone.
I'm supposed to be getting her."

"What you
should
be doing, Vincent," Jolie said firmly, "is
teaching her that she cannot behave like this. If she's dumb enough
to go to his suite, then she should be ready to accept the
consequences."

"This is the second time tonight," he complained. "The first time
I dragged her out of a Jacuzzi half naked."

Jolie shook her head as if she couldn't believe what she was
hearing. "That is
not
good behavior."

"I know," he agreed, mesmerized by her catlike, amber eyes.

"Come on," she said briskly. "You and I are getting a drink. We
both need it."

Why hadn't he married a woman like Jolie, instead of a kid like
Jenna? She was certainly more his style.

* * *

Madison realized that the Cadillac was heading away from downtown and
back in the direction of Santa Monica. She could just about make out
the street signs.