Double Lucky (30 page)

“Is Venus your girlfriend?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“And you hooked up with me? Wow! I'm flattered. I hope you didn't give
her
crabs too.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, “will you shut the frig up? What do you want from me?”

“I want you to remember me when you see me. We had sex, I went down on you. Doesn't that mean anything to you, Mister Big Movie Star?”

“What we had was a short encounter.”

“An encounter?” she said incredulously. “Should I have gotten your autograph on my ass? If I remember correctly, all you offered me was a signed photo.”

“What are you after? Money?”

“I'm an actress, not a hooker,” she said huffily. “Give me a part in your movie and I'll shut up. Otherwise I'm telling Venus what a bad boy you've been. Okay?”

No. It wasn't okay at all. But what could he do?

Hurriedly he gave her his cell phone number. In the distance he saw Venus approaching.

“Get lost,” he said, desperate to make a quick escape. “You got a deal, call me tomorrow. Now get the frig away from me.”

 

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Max wondered how long the freak was going to keep her prisoner. It disturbed her that he hadn't covered his face. She knew what he looked like, which meant if she ever got out she would be able to identify him. And that wasn't good, because in all the movies she'd ever seen involving a kidnapping, the kidnappers kept their faces covered—because if they didn't, it meant they were planning to kill their victim.

Man, this was bad. This wasn't a game.

And yet there was something about Internet Freak that gave her hope. He obviously wasn't your usual run-of-the-mill criminal. He kept on looking at her with what she could only describe as a lovesick expression—like ugh! It was as if he wanted to be her boyfriend.

Maybe she should stop yelling at him and play up that angle, find out what he was really after, 'cause it didn't seem to be money.

When he returned late in the afternoon she was all prepared with her new attitude.

“I think we got off to a bad start,” she ventured.

“Excuse me?” he responded, startled that she was speaking to him without yelling.

“Well, you
are
the same guy I was communicating with via e-mail, yes?”

He nodded unsurely.

“Then what went wrong?”

“Wrong?” he repeated blankly.

“I mean the whole thing with the gun,” she continued. “And this shackling me to the bed like some kind of animal. I thought we were friends.”

“But we are,” he said anxiously. “Friends, yes, we are certainly friends.”

“Friends don't point guns at people and
kidnap
them.”

“I didn't mean to. But the circumstances … your cousin … I wasn't expecting him. You said you'd come alone. I was prepared for us to spend the weekend together, just the two of us.”

His words got her wondering about Ace. Could it be that they
weren't
in cahoots, and if not, what had he done with him?

“Where is Ace, Grant?” she asked, speaking slowly.

It was the first time she'd used his name. It galled her to do so because all she really wanted to do was kick him in the balls and run—which hadn't worked out so well earlier in the day.

“I told you,” he said, clenching his teeth. “I let Ace go.”

She knew he was lying, because why would he let Ace go? There was no way.

“Can you undo this thing around my ankle? It really hurts,” she said, summoning up a tear or two for his benefit.

“Last time—”

“Forget about last time, Grant,” she said, keeping her voice low and soothing. “I learned my lesson and this time I'll behave. I promise.”

She watched him closely. His expression weakened, and she knew she was about to get a lot further by being nice.

He produced the key, undid the shackle, fetched her disinfectant and cotton swabs for her ankle, then allowed her into the living room where he fixed her a bowl of canned tomato soup. Wow! Why hadn't she thought of being nice before?

They talked. Or rather
he
talked while she managed to check out her surroundings, taking in every detail. She noticed there was a chain and a double lock on the front door, and no bars on the window in the combination kitchen/living room where they were sitting. In the kitchen section she spotted a knife stand and a collection of pots and pans. In the living room she noticed that he'd set up his rollaway bed under the window.

His voice droned on, horribly monotonous. He told her he was an award-winning actor, and had received many accolades.

“Would I have seen you in anything?” she asked, not believing him for a minute.

“Did you see the film
Seduction
?” he asked, nervously cracking his knuckles, thrilled that he was getting a chance to impress her with his achievements.

Of course she'd seen
Seduction
—her mom had produced the movie. She remembered visiting the set when she was just a little kid. She sure as hell didn't remember him.

“Were you in it?” she asked.

“I should've been,” he said, his tone suddenly changing, becoming sharp and angry.

“Then why weren't you?” she asked, putting down her soup spoon.

“Because of—” He stopped abruptly.

Now that they were getting along so nicely, he didn't care to bring up her bitch mother.

Later, when they were really close, he'd tell her the real story.

Later, when he'd convinced her they should stay together forever.

 

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Sunday night Anthony decided to throw another party. Even though it was a last-minute decision, he expected it to happen in spite of the fact that Rosa and Manuel had worked their asses off getting the roasted-pig lunch together at such short notice.

“My little Carolina's gonna be fourteen in two weeks' time, so tonight we celebrate,” Anthony informed his guests. “Right, Fanta? Right, Innes?” The two women nodded enthusiastically. “C'mere, Rosa,” he bellowed, summoning his cook.

Rosa appeared, wiping her hands on her apron. She was exhausted, and it showed on her heavily lined face.

“Rosa!” Anthony exclaimed, grabbing her in an overpowering bear hug. “You go make two of those chocolate cakes I like, an' a lemon birthday cake for Carolina. An' I think we have lamb tonight, an' chicken, an' those potatoes you cook so well. We have another feast,” he crowed, pinching her cheek with his thumb and forefinger. “You see this woman?” he boasted to his cronies. “She would do anything for me. Anything! Correct, Rosa?”

“
Sí, señor
,” Rosa muttered, enduring the humiliation of a pinched cheek.

“An' if she doesn't—I fire her ass.
Sí
, Rosa?” he said, roaring with laughter. “What you waitin' for, woman?” he added, smacking her on the ass. “Go make the cakes, oh yeah, an' some of those almond cookies you're famous for. Move it!” he added, giving her one final whack on her ass before sending her on her way.

“
Sí, señor
,” Rosa said, wondering how he expected her to have time to organize a dinner party
and
bake. The man was loco, but she and Manuel needed their jobs, and when Anthony wasn't in residence things were quite peaceful.

“She loves me,” she heard him braying to his lunch guests. “I'm tellin' you, she loves me to death!”

Irma sat quietly watching Anthony strut and show off, plotting and planning her imminent escape. She knew that her husband kept cash in all his main homes, and taking some of his stash would hardly be considered stealing. After all, she was his wife, and if they lived in America half of everything he had would be legally hers.

She knew the combination of the bedroom safe in their house in Mexico City. Several months ago they'd arrived home from a big black-tie event late at night. Anthony was drunk—he'd flung his emerald cuff links and hundred-thousand-dollar diamond-encrusted watch at her and told her to put them in his safe. She'd asked him for the combination, and in his drunken state he'd given it to her.

She'd opened his safe, and was shocked to see bundles of cash piled high. After putting his watch and cuff links away, she'd written down the safe's combination and hidden it.

Yes, she was more than entitled to anything she cared to take.

*   *   *

Much to Luis's fury, Cesar decided to take Lucia up on her invitation to dinner. He arrived unexpectedly late Sunday afternoon, carrying a wilted bunch of flowers and a bottle of cheap sangria.

Lucia greeted him as if she was receiving a visit from the king of Spain. Lucia was desperate to get married and as far away as possible from the overcrowded family situation. She'd dated Cesar on and off for a year, and even though she'd given him what she considered memorable sex, he was not close to making any kind of permanent commitment. Cesar appearing at their house was an encouraging sign.

“Look who's here,” she bragged to her two sisters and wheelchair-bound mother. “Doesn't Cesar look handsome?”

Luis was dismayed to see him. He was not sure what Cesar knew about him and Señora Bonar—if anything. But it still made him uncomfortable that Cesar was in his house, making himself at home.

Ana Cristina, Luis's seven-months-pregnant wife, followed her sister-in-law's lead and greeted Cesar as if he were royalty. Everyone was impressed with his job. “Security guard” had a special ring to it. They all hoped he'd marry Lucia or at least take her off to live with him. Their tiny house was so full, and with Ana Cristina and Luis's baby due soon, Lucia's absence would be a godsend.

Luis, the only man in the house with four women, reluctantly offered Cesar a bottle of beer.

Cesar patted Ana Cristina's swollen belly. “Do we know what we're having?” he asked, his hand lingering a little too long on his wife's stomach for Luis's liking.

“A boy,” Ana Cristina replied, shyly lowering her eyes.

“A boy! Congratulations!” Cesar exclaimed.

“It's a blessing,” Ana Cristina murmured.

“Indeed it is,” Lucia said, hanging on to Cesar's arm while fluttering her overmascaraed eyelashes. “Babies are always such a blessing, aren't they, Cesar?”

Cesar didn't reply. “Let's sit outside,” he said to Luis. “Enjoy our beers, watch the world pass by.”

There was nothing Luis would like less.

“Sure, Cesar,” he said.

The two men stepped outside onto the patch of sparse sun-dried grass and sat down on two mismatched plastic lawn chairs.

After a few moments of silence Cesar leaned over to Luis and muttered, “I want in.”

“Excuse me?” Luis said.

“I want in,” Cesar repeated.

“In what?” Luis said, twisting his beer bottle.

“Do not act as if you don't know what I'm talking about.”

“I don't,” Luis replied.

“You idiot!” Cesar said, becoming agitated. “I want in with the American woman. I want to sample some of that juicy American pussy you've been dipping into. And if you don't arrange it, Luis, not only do I tell your fat wife, but I tell Señor Bonar too. Do we understand each other,
amigo?
”

 

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Eventually the party moved outside to the tent where dinner was to be served. An eight-piece Cuban band played on a platform next to a circular dance floor, while a voluptuous Latina woman seductively crooned “Bésame Mucho.”

Lucky was trying her best to enjoy herself, but she still couldn't get over her anger at Max for not arriving home in time for the party, especially since she'd emphasized how important it was to her.

“You gotta calm down, sweetheart,” Lennie said, attempting to soothe her bad mood. “You can't walk around with a pissed-off expression. This is Gino's big night—don't let Max ruin it for you.”

“Nobody knows better than me what a special night this is,” Lucky said, steaming. “But Lennie, I'm
so
mad at her. How could she do this to us? We have no clue where she is, or even
who
she's with. It's crazy.”

“I know,” he agreed.

“Trust me,” Lucky said, her black eyes flashing major danger signals, “when that child gets back she is
so
grounded. I'm not allowing her out of the house. She can say good-bye to her phone
and
her car.”

“We'll get into it when she comes home.”

“Yes we will,” Lucky said fiercely. “And you'll get into it with me, 'cause you're not playing good cop while I'm the bad one. This is something we're handling together. Her behavior is freakin' beyond.”

“You got it, Lucky,” he said, still trying to calm her. “Now, let's try to relax and show Gino a good time.”

*   *   *

“
What
is going on with you?” Venus asked Billy, cornering him on the way to their table. “First I see you talking to one of the waitresses, and the next thing I know, you're all over Cooper's girlfriend like you're long-lost buddies.”

“Mandy was in one of my movies,” he explained. “She's a sweet kid.”

“Really?” Venus said archly. “What did she play, the child?”

“She's nineteen, babe,” he said, his mind still on his unfortunate encounter with Miss Broken Taillight.

“Oh wow, nineteen,” Venus said sarcastically. “Just about young enough for Cooper.”

“Bitchy! Bitchy!” Billy said, baiting her.

“Doesn't she get that she's fucking her
grandfather
?” Venus snapped.

“You wouldn't be jealous, would you?” Billy said, grinning.