Prince of the Playhouse (27 page)

“Obviously he’s been in the area for eight years since the event. I don’t see how they can claim he’s a flight risk. But we need someone who can prove he wasn’t in that car.”

“Have you got an investigator you use?”

“Yeah, but we’re talking about the ADs, man. They don’t spill anything to anyone, especially a lawyer.”

“Give it a try. I don’t care how many people it takes. Let me know what you find out.”

“Okay.”

“Tell Ru I said—” He glanced at the room full of people staring at him. “—I’m thinking about him.”

HE CLICKED
off.
Shit, talk about feeling helpless.

Benson and Courtney spoke quietly together from their two chairs. When Gray hung up, Benson looked at him. “We’re working on a statement. We need to get something out there fast. That you’re deeply concerned about your business partner, have nothing but respect for the fine officers of Laguna Beach. Shit like that.”

Gray’s mom flashed Benson a look. Not sure what it meant.

Gray nodded. “Do not put out one word until I see it, is that clear? I’m not making any paeans of praise for those assholes in blue, understand?”

“Yes, sure, Gray.”

“Will everyone excuse me? I’m going to rest for a few minutes. I need to do some thinking.”

His mother stood. “That’s an excellent idea, dear. We’re going to do the same. Shall we go, Charles?” She started walking out of the suite, and his father stepped up behind her.

Benson said, “We have to do damage control on this, Gray. This is a giant barrel of snakes. Some of the press are already rumoring that your business partner is some other kind of partner, and now he’s a goddamned accessory to murder. This is bullshit. We need distance, you hear me? Distance. Come on, Courtney. We can work in my suite.”

Gray blew out a breath and looked up. His parents still stood in the entry, staring back at Benson.
They come to visit me for once and get embroiled in this whole mess. Damn.

Everybody filed out in a row. Gray locked the door, walked into his bedroom, and threw himself on the bed. He felt like he’d fallen down the rabbit hole. Hell, he thought he felt weird? What must Ru feel like? Scared? Alone?

But what if Ru had done it? What if he really drove some gangbangers to a murder? Jesus, who was Rupert Maitland, really?

He rolled on his side. Obviously Ru lied to him. Well, not lied, exactly. Gray had never asked, “Are you a gangbanger?” But lots of sins of omission had gone down. Would Ru ever have told him? Would he finally have explained the tattoo and confessed about his background?
I’ll never know now.

He closed his eyes.

RU SAT
on the yellow couch. “Thanks for getting me out.”

Fred perched on the chair across from Ru. “Just stay put, okay? You can go to work, but otherwise, don’t leave the area. Be calm and spend your time trying to recreate that week, okay?”

“If I can prove I only drove them to a robbery and didn’t know it at the time, you think they’ll let me off?”

“Probably, but no guarantees. You were a juvenile. Accessory to robbery after the fact shouldn’t be enough to get you tried as an adult.”

“They don’t seem to know about the robbery at all.”

“Right. And I don’t want you volunteering that information until we know what’s going down, clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He stood.

Ru nodded. “I’ll find some way to pay you back.”

“I’m well paid. Take up your concerns with Gray. By the way, he said to tell you he’s thinking about you.”

Ru swallowed and nodded. Fred opened the door to a barrage of reporters shouting questions. “No comment.” As he walked away, Ru heard Fred’s phone ringing.

He slammed the door, locked it tight, double-checked the curtains, and dragged himself into his bedroom. He undressed and then fell on the bed.
Thinking about me. Damn. What does that mean? That he’s thinking what a lying, miserable asshole I am?
Someone who helps murderers?

Okay, he couldn’t obsess about Gray. He had to think about that day eight years ago when Pedro, Pop Rock, and Quattro had told him he’d get to practice driving by taking them over to Junior Hernandez’s place. Jesus, he’d been excited. All those guys were big in the ADs. The fact that they’d asked him to help them gave him a thrill. He’d ferried them over, leaning back with his arm on the console to show them what a big man and cool driver he was.

They’d been in there for, like, fifteen minutes, then came out running and told him to get out of there fast. Had he been suspicious? Fuck yeah. But he didn’t know anything until the next day, when Pedro told him he was an accessory to robbery, so if he got any ideas about being disloyal, they could send him away for a long time.

Man, he’d been pissed. Before that he’d felt like a real AD, trusted and trustworthy. Then the fact that they’d set him up to command his loyalty made him want to turn the fuckers in. That day had been a decision point. When Bernardo suggested he get out of the ADs and go to school, he’d been open. But what day was the robbery? Sometime later he heard that Hernandez got dead, but he didn’t put the two things together. Was it possible the guys he drove had killed Hernandez? Could it have happened then? Shit!

His phone rang, and he grabbed for it.
Oh, Shaz. Jesus.
“Hi, darling.”

“Don’t ‘hi darling’ me. What the flaming fuck is going on? You’re all over the news, and not in a good way. Where are you? Do you need a lawyer? Why in hell didn’t you call me?”

“I would have, but by the time I realized I was in real trouble, Gray had sent a lawyer and I was up to my ass in allegations.”

“Thank God for that—the lawyer, I mean. Can I come over?”

“I’m not sure. I’m supposed to stay close to my house. Probably best not to do it for now.”

“Oh God.” He let out a long stream of air. “Okay, Billy’s right here. Talk. You’re on speaker.”

“What do you want me to say?” Damn, he knew the answer to that.

“Are you a member of some Los Angeles gang?”

“I sort of was at one time. I wanted to be. I was still young, and I wanted to prove myself. A friend got me out before I really became an official AD.”

“And you never told me.”

He fought tears. “I-I thought you’d be ashamed of me. I wanted it to be behind me.”

“Rupert Maitland, I love you. How could I be less than proud of you? You didn’t give me or yourself enough credit.”

“I l-love you too.” He snuffled.

“Were you involved in a murder?”

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t think so. But I did drive three ADs to a guy’s house who later turned up dead. It’s possible they did it the day I drove them. I just don’t know. Oh God, Shaz, I just want to die.”

“No dying. We’re going to prove you didn’t do it, or if you did, you didn’t know you did it. Is Gray with you now?”

“What? Uh, no. No one’s here.”

“So they won’t let anyone be with you? That’s ridiculous.”

“I-I’m not sure about that. My lawyer brought me home, and he came in.”

Pause. “Where’s Gray?”

“At his hotel with his parents, I imagine.”

“But how did he know to send a lawyer?”

“He was here with his parents when the police came. I sent them all out the back so they wouldn’t be involved.”

“That makes sense, I suppose. But he didn’t come back?”

“Shaz, he can’t do that. Hell, it’s bad enough we’re business partners. That’s why it’s all over the press. Nobody cares about me. It’s because of Gray. Jesus, I’m an accessory to murder. The best thing he can do is stay away from me.”

“The best thing for whom?”

BAM. RING.
Bam. Ring.

Shit.

Gray raised his head.
Fell asleep.
Faint light drifted in the hotel room windows, showing an outline of the trees with ocean beyond.

Phone. Door. He grabbed for his cell, which had fallen from his pocket onto the comforter.
Fred.
He clicked. “Hang on a second, Fred.”

He got up and walked to the closed bedroom door. “Yes?”

Benson yelled through the door, “Gray, dammit, we need to get this statement to the press.”

“Hold your balls. I’ll be out in a couple minutes.” He pressed the phone to his ear and walked over to the windows. “Sorry, Fred. What’s up? Did you get Ru home?” Jesus, how could he have fallen asleep and left Ru alone?

“Yes, he’s home and confined to his place.”

“Shit.”

“Better than jail. Look, I sent a couple of investigators into that neighborhood in Compton like you suggested. Man, they were fucking scared. Anyway, they put out a lot of feelers. Must have worked, because I just got a call from somebody named Bernardo Peña. He says he knows something about that day, but he’s asking to meet you.”

“Me? What do I have to do with it?”

“Don’t know. Maybe he’s a fan. But he was pretty set on the idea.”

“Okay, I’ll meet him. When? Where?”

“How about there at your hotel? He said he’d drive to Laguna. If he knows anything important, I can take him over to the police station.”

“Jesus. Gangsters at the Vistage?”

“I’m sure he won’t be the only one.” Fred laughed. “That place is packed with crooks of one kind or another.”

Gray shook his head. “Man, that’s the truth. Okay. Get him over here soon. I have a shoot.”

“Okay. I’ll call you and let you know a time after I talk to him.”

“Can I call Ru?”

“Don’t see why not.”

“Thanks.” He hung up.

The knocking on his bedroom door got louder. He stalked over and yelled, “What?”

“Time’s wasting, Gray.” He could hear voices. Courtney? His folks?

“I’ve got some stuff to do. Give me a few minutes.” He moved away from the door so they couldn’t eavesdrop and dialed. One ring, two, three.

“Uh, hi.”

Just the sound of Ru’s voice gave him goose bumps. “Hi, how are you doing?”

“Okay. Thank you for the lawyer.”

“He’s supposed to be the best.” Silence. “I never told you. I saw your tattoo.”

“Oh? When?”

“The other morning. Your T-shirt scooched up. I wondered why you always wore a T-shirt to bed.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry, Gray. I didn’t even tell Shaz about my life before. I hoped it would never come back to haunt me. Stupid.”

“Uh, did you do what they say?”

“If I did, I didn’t know it.”

“But that could still be bad, right?”

“Yes. Fred says they may try me as an adult for accessory to murder.”

“Jesus, Ru. Just—fuck!” He dropped his head in his hands.

“I know. Not exactly cool for Gray Anson to have a jailbird business partner.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s still true. Do whatever damage control you can, and stay away from me. If and when this whole mess is over, we’ll talk, right?”

“But—”

“Really, Gray. I can practically hear Benson yelling in your ear. You love being you. You can’t jeopardize it all for something you have no control over. I really appreciate the lawyer. Please tell your mom her outfits will be ready tomorrow. Shaz can have James fit them. Take care of yourself.” He drew a long breath. “Because I won’t be there to do it.” The phone clicked off.

“Fuck!” Gray tossed the phone on the bed.

He hurled himself off the mattress, walked into the bathroom, and turned on the water in the shower. He threw his clothes as far as he could make them sail, then stepped under the rainfall and let it run over his head. What should he do? He had no knowledge that could help Ru, but he wanted to be with him. He wanted to see for himself that Ru was okay, that the police were treating him well. Hell, he had wealth and power, and those counted in the justice system—even if they shouldn’t.

He dragged his razor over his face. Okay, so maybe being associated with Ru right now might be bad for his career—but fuck, how bad could it be? In today’s paparazzi world, it could sell some more tickets. So that’s what he’d do—go see Ru.

Excited, he leaped out of the shower, dried, and pulled on a new set of clothes. He had to perform at the Playhouse that night, so everything needed to happen quickly.

He grabbed his watch and was strapping it on when he heard another knock. Softer this time. “Yeah.”

“Gray, it’s Fred.”

“Oh, good.”

He walked to the door and opened it. Benson yelled, “Gray, we can’t waste any more time.”

Gray opened the door a crack and let Fred slide through, bringing a tall, really fucking handsome Hispanic guy in an expensive suit behind him. Gray slammed the door. “Sorry. The wolves are circling.”

The Hispanic man didn’t smile. He just gazed at Gray like maybe he was a science experiment.

Fred said, “Gray, this is Bernardo Peña, a friend of Ru’s.”

Gray nodded and stuck out his hand. “Ru needs some friends right now.”

Peña looked at his hand as though possibly considering its cleanliness, then shook it. “Are you his friend?”

“Uh, yes, we’re business partners.”

His smile barely defined skeptical. “Right. I been his
business partner
too, esé.” He looked at Fred. “I need to talk to Anson alone.”

Fred frowned, like maybe Peña planned a murder of his own. “Is that okay, Gray?”

“Sure. Of course.”

Fred glanced at Peña but walked to the door, slipped out, and closed it behind him. Gray followed him and locked it. He pointed at the chairs in front of the big window. “Please sit down, Mr. Peña.”

Peña sat, looking out the window. “Some view.”

“Yes. Please, what do you know about the accessory to murder charge against Ru?”

“A lot.”

Gray flopped in the chair. “Tell me.”

Peña leaned back. “I know where he was on the afternoon Hernandez was killed.”

Hope. Damn.
“He wasn’t driving the car?”

“Nope. He was sucking my cock in my mother’s bathroom.”

“Shit!”

“Yes.”

“You were lovers?” Oh damn, he wanted to hit the guy.

“Not exactly. See, I was a big shot in the ADs at that time. Ru wanted to be an AD. So—” He waved his hand.