Hollywood Scandals (31 page)

We were threading our way around the front of the Small World building, past the Matterhorn, into the thick of the Fantasyland crowd. Hundreds of people bounced against us on either side. Surely someone would notice the girl being held hostage with the gun.

Or not.

Have you ever noticed how self-contained most people are? Every single person in that place had blinders on, focused on making the most of their vacations, oblivious to the people around them. I sent pleading looks to the young families standing in line at the Tea Cups. I mouthed “help me” to the goth kids waiting for the Dumbo ride. I shot alarmed, eyebrows drawn together, desperate tilting of my head toward the chick with the gun looks to the older couple holding hands by the carousel.

Nada.

I hated people.

“
There,” Lani finally said behind me.

I looked up to where she was pointing. Sleeping Beauty’s castle.

“
We can have some privacy there,” she said, pushing me forward.

I bit my lip, seeing my chance at freedom growing smaller and smaller the closer we got to the castle. Luckily, the square was jam-packed with bodies, and it was slow going. The daily show of King Arthur pulling the sword from the stone was going on in front of the carousel, a guy in a Merlin costume directing a ten-year-old kid and his dad to step up to the stone and try their luck.

A stroller knocked into me, a kid with a lollipop got pink goo on my leg, and a guy with nacho breath bumped into me and burped in my face. But no one saw the chick with the gun, shoving me just feet from certain death.

Well, almost no one.

“
That’s her!” someone shouted.

Instinctively, I spun around, expecting to see one of Lani’s fans pointing her out.

Instead, I spied a bony little old lady in a pink tracksuit hanging off a lamppost, pointing toward me.

Aunt Sue.

I could have cried, I was so happy to see her. In fact, I’m not entirely sure my eyes didn’t leak a little.

“
Now what?” Lani hissed. Then shoved me forward, knocking into a toddler who fell on his diapered butt and began to cry.

“
Stop!” Aunt Sue shouted. “Stop that girl! She’s a murderer! She has my niece hostage!”

Unfortunately, already being in a state of Disney altered reality, the crowd thought Aunt Sue was just part of the show. They all turned toward me, expectant smiles on their faces, waiting to see what the “murderer” and the “hostage” did next.

“
Go!” Lani urged. “Ignore them!”

What choice did I have? I went.

“
Unhand my niece!” This time it was Aunt Millie’s voice. “Or face the consequences.”

“
Oh yeah?” Lani asked, spinning us both around to face her, showing the crowd her gun. “And what would those be, old lady?”

Aunt Millie jumped (with surprising agility for a senior citizen) up to the Merlin platform. She pushed the kid out of the way, grabbed King Arthur’s sword with both hands, and pulled it from the stone with a loud grunt.

The crowd cheered.

Lani laughed that annoying faux-teen giggle again. “And just what do you expect to do with that?” She leveled the gun at Aunt Millie.

The crow did the appropriate scared “Ooooo”ing.

I would have rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation had the gun not been real and the person holding it not really insane.

“
Aunt Millie!” I warned.

Too late.

The gun went off, a crack shattering through the air. I held my breath expecting Millie to fall, an ugly red stain through her midsection. Instead, she twisted the sword, the bullet pinging off the flashing steel.

The crowd roared with approval.

Lani look stunned.

Millie look stunned.

I felt faint.

“
En garde!” Millie shouted, jumping down from her perch, her bony ankles showing between her balled socks and her powder blue slacks.

Lani, like the rest of the crowd, was momentarily stunned by the sight, and that’s all that Millie needed, swiftly bringing the sword down on the hand holding the gun. Lani’s weapon clattered to the ground, and the tip of Millie’s sword went to the girl’s throat, the point making an uncomfortable indentation as Lani swallowed in fear.

The crowd went wild, cheering, clapping, screaming. I only caught a few people whispering to each other, “Is that how the story really goes?”

I saw Cal break through the crowd, a line of security officers behind him. They quickly descended on Lani, clasping her hands behind her back in a pair of cuffs.

Me? I collapsed into Cal the second he got within arm’s reach, clinging for dear life to his solid, comforting chest, the adrenaline of the moment leaving me weak, relieved, and feeling like my limbs were made of jelly. His arms went around me, holding me tight.

“
Jesus, don’t you ever do that to me again, Bender,” he mumbled into my hair.

I hung on tighter.

When I finally loosened my grip, I looked up into his face. His dark eyes were a mixture of concern, anger, fear, and something else that made my stomach lurch into my chest.

He licked his lips and leaned in close. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. And I wanted him to, no doubts about it this time. In fact, I have never wanted anyone to kiss me so badly in all my life.

But at the last minute, he changed his mind, his eyes going guarded as he pulled away. An awkward vibe immediately filled the air between us.

Luckily, before anyone could comment on it, more security guards descended on us.

“
What happened here?” one of them asked me.

I detached myself from Cal and sniffed, realizing those damned tears were leaking out again. “Aunt Millie saved me.”

Cal looked from Millie to the sword, still in her hands.

“
You’ve got to be kidding?” he asked.

Millie lifted the sword above her head. “Gold medal for fencing, 1928 Olympics.” Then she gave me a wink. “And I’ve still got it.”

Chapter Twenty

Security ushered us all into a little building behind the Magic Kingdom, where we each told our version of the day’s events (minus Mrs. Carmichael’s part in it) to the concerned officers. An hour later, the guys from homicide arrived, and we related the events once again. No small task between the four of us. Turns out, as soon as Cal had realized I was missing, he’d gone back into the Small World ride to look for me. Unfortunately, by then Lani had chased me into another room and Cal had been forced to give up the search when the ride started moving again. He’d then immediately alerted security, having them check all the available security cameras in the park for any glimpse of me. Which he got just as Millie had charged at Lani with the sword.

In Aunt Sue and Aunt Millie’s version, they’d been directed to wait outside when Cal went back in to find me. But, as anyone who’s ever met an octogenarian knows, they never do what they’re told. Instead, the aunts decided to go looking for me on their own, figuring maybe I’d been rushed outside in the crowd ahead of them. They’d gone to the center of Fantasyland, where Millie had hoisted Aunt Sue up onto a lamppost to get a better view of the crowd. They’d stood there scanning the heads that walked past, until she’d spotted mine.

And I was very glad she had.

After having to repeat every other question at top volume for Aunt Sue, and printing out a very large print version of her statement for Aunt Millie to read, we were finally cleared to go home by the officers. But before we could leave, a Disney rep came out apologizing profusely for our ordeal and asking us each to sign a set of documents saying we wouldn’t sue them for having allowed Lani into the park armed. When they sweetened the deal with annual passes for us all, we happily agreed.

By the time we finally left the security office, the sun was setting, the air was cooling off, and even the aunts were finished with Disney magic for the day. We threaded our way back to Cal’s Hummer, dropped Millie off at her retirement village, then headed to Palm Grove for the first time in days.

It was finally safe for me to go home.

Not, mind you, that the condo really resembled a cozy home at the moment. As we stepped through the front door, the scent of industrial cleansers burned our nostrils, a large, bleached spot on the living room rug a reminder of what had happened here. I made a mental note to get the carpets replaced ASAP. Our belongings were still in a state of disarray from the break-in, there was nothing to eat that hadn’t spoiled in the fridge, and the place was like an oven from being sans air-conditioner all day. But, still, it was good to finally be home.

Aunt Sue made a bee-line for the kitchen and began immediately dialing for pizza. Which left me standing in the doorway alone, awkwardly watching Cal as his eyes did a once over sweep of the place.

"So… are you coming in?" I asked, suddenly fidgeting with my hands, though I wasn't really sure why. Cal's job was over. I was safe, the killer was behind bars. Really, there was no reason for him to stick around.

Cal’s eyes stopped sweeping and locked squarely onto mine. "Do you want me to?"

Oh, boy. That was a loaded question. One I wasn't really sure I had a loaded answer to. I shrugged my shoulders. "I guess I don't really
need
protection anymore."

"That isn't what I asked."

I bit my lip. I know. "Well, I mean, if you're hungry, Aunt Sue's ordering pizza. So, if you want to…”

But he cut me off. "Do you want me to come in? It's a simple question, Tina."

But it wasn't. And we both knew it. I could feel his eyes intent on me, doing that looking-right-through-you thing.

I shifted onto my heels. I knew if I said "yes”, I wasn’t just agreeing to an evening of pizza and chit chat. And while part of me, the part that had melted into Cal's arms that afternoon, had melted into his kiss the night before, melted every time his dark eyes bore into mine the way they were doing right now, really, really wanted to shout "yes" at the top of my lungs… somehow I couldn’t make my mouth form the word. What if Cal didn’t really want the kind of pizza I was offering? Or, worse yet, what if he said he did, then changed his mind in the morning? I've been around Hollywood long enough to know that guys like Cal didn’t end up with short, purple haired, funky journalists like me. Guys like Cal ended up with supermodels, leggy blondes, stacked beach bunnies. So, as much as that little hopeful corner of my heart was rearing its ugly little head, my shoulders shrugged again, and I answered, "It doesn’t matter to me.”

Cal’s face shut down, expression blank. "It doesn’t." A flat statement, not a question.

I swallowed down a lump of some indefinable emotion. "I mean, it’s just pizza, right?"

"It is." Again, not a question. He blew out a breath, shook his head. "Jesus, Bender, can’t you let go for just a second? Just let the guard down and drop the tough chick attitude.”

I cocked one hip. “In case you haven't noticed, I
am
a tough chick. I’m sorry if you find my personality so annoying.”

"Right. You’re so tough you don't need anyone. Don't need any friends, any man. Me.”

I bit my lip. "I didn't say…”

But he didn't let me finish, his eyes going dark and unreadable behind his thick lashes as his voice rose. "Because I’m just a rent-a-goon to you, right? Just the hired muscle. Just some guy to use to your own advantage, just like everyone else in this town, then dismiss as easily as anything when you don't need him anymore."

"That's not fair!" I protested.

"No, you know what's not fair?" he asked, his fists clenching at his sides as he took a step toward me.

Instinctively I took one back.

"What’s not fair is I really thought there was more to you, Bender. That beneath that armored shell of yours lay an actual caring human being."

I crossed my arms over my chest in a protective gesture, hating the way tears suddenly stung the back of my eyelids. "You don't know me,” I countered.

"No. You’re right. I don’t. Turns out, I don’t know you at all.”

Those tears threatened to spill down my cheeks, but I defiantly held them back. I would not cry. I would not show him how much those words hurt. They didn’t. He was right. Had he ever promised to be more than a bodyguard to me? No. He’d done his job. I was alive, the stalker was behind bars, awaiting a trial that would be providing me salacious headlines for months to come. What more did I expect? “Your job is done, what do you care?” I shouted back.

His nostrils flared. "You think this was all just a job to me?"

I bit my lip. “Wasn't it?” Again that nasty little hope flared up. Just a little. Just enough that I felt myself watching his lips anxiously as he replied.

He shook his head, ever so slightly, his expression almost sad now. "God, Tina, if you don’t know the answer to that… ” He trailed off. Then ran a hand through his hair. “Clearly it was a job I never should have taken.”

And just like that, the hope died a quick and painful death, shriveling into nothing.