Fame (36 page)

The one who arrived first drew his gun. “Police! Freeze.” His eyes met Dayne’s.

“Mr. Matthews, we’ve got it from here.”

Dayne rolled off the woman and ran to Katy..She was shaking, her eyes locked in terror. The gash on her arm had stopped bleeding, but a dried streak of blood ran halfway to her wrist.

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“Are you okay?” They were both out of breath, but even in the shadows beneath the trees he could see that Katy’s face was worse than pale.

“I… I can’t…” She was still shaking—almost convulsing— too scared to speak.

“Shhh.” Dayne put his arm around her. “It’s all right. The police have her.”

Katy brought her hand to her throat. Ugly scratch marks ran along the area where the woman had held the knife to her. “She . . she was going to kill me.”

He tucked her head against his chest and smoothed her blonde hair. “It’s over, Katy. It’s all over.”

One of the officers came up and looked at Dayne. “She admitted to stalking you and writing the letters.” He shifted his attention back to his notepad. “We have your address. A couple officers will be by your house tonight for a statement.

We’ll need

one from both of you.” He looked at Katy. “Are you all right?” She still had her hand on her throat. “Yes.”

“Okay. You two can go.” He gave a disgusted look at the woman in handcuffs still on the ground. Then he directed his attention back to Katy. “I’m sorry about this. I guess it’s the price of fame.”

Dayne nodded. He kept his arm around Katy and led her to the parking lot. The whole way he whispered to her, assuring her, promising her that the terror was behind them.

Katy looked up at him as they reached her car. “Are we going to your house?”

“Yeah.” He opened the door for her and waited while she climbed in. The sound of the surf filled the air, but now it held an ominous sound, as if each wave were pounding out a rhythm of impending doom. “Is that okay?”

“We have to… the police said so.”

“Right.” He went around the other side and got in. “Katy, everything’s okay.”

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KAREN KINGSBURY

But even the police officer had underlined the fact that it wasn’t. What had he said at the end there? This was the price of fame? It was exactly what he didn’t want Katy to think, but it was the truth. After tonight how could he tell Katy anything different?

They were halfway home when Katy turned to him. “That lady’s been writing letters about you?”

He gave Katy a sideways glance. “Yeah, I guess so. The police told me about her a few days back.”

“We never should’ve gone out there.” Her tone wasn’t angry or accusing but straightforward. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dayne exhaled hard. “I didn’t believe it. There’re lots of crazy people out there, Katy. I didn’t think she was serious.”

They were mostly quiet the rest of the ride, but as they pulled into his garage he turned to her. “I’m sorry. I never meant for you to be in danger.”

She looked calmer, the color returning to her cheeks. “I know.” Her lips were shivering, and it made it hard to understand her. “You’re right. The police will take care of her.”

“Exactly.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “She won’t be a threat anymore.”

But somehow he didn’t sound convincing. Kelly Parker was still in the hospital, undergoing a mental evaluation; the magazines were still relentless and always would be. And with a star’s every move chronicled in print, there would always be the possibility of freak fans like the one they’d encountered tonight.

Dayne could only guess how the rest of the evening would play out, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be good. And that come tomorrow he wouldn’t be trying to convince Katy that everything was okay.

He’d be looking for someone else to fill her part.

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KATY WAS STILL SHAKING.

She barely noticed the lush furnishings and expansive rooms as Dayne held her hand and they walked into the house. The beach was in his backyard, but it was too dark to notice anything other than the sound of the pounding waves. And right now that only served to remind her of what had just happened.

Dayne directed her to the family room, and they sat side by side on the sofa.

“Want coffee? anything?”

She was numb, exhausted, drained from the fight for their lives. Her eyes met his. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll make some anyway.” He stood and headed toward the kitchen. “Might make you feel better.”

Katy doubted that, but she didn’t say so. As he left the room she stared at her trembling hands. What sort of bizarre life was this, anyway? She’d been in town only a few hours, and already she’d been caught on camera kissing Dayne Matthews at a private beach and nearly killed by a maniac fan.

She closed her eyes, and the image of the woman came back 308

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again. Wild yellow hair, intensely evil expression on her face. And the knife.

Dull black handle and a thick stainless-steel blade that caught the light of the moon and flashed in the darkness. She would remember the knife as long as she lived.

Her neck hurt, even though the woman hadn’t drawn blood there. Only on her arm.

She rose and followed the sounds of Dayne in the next room.

He was filling the coffeemaker with water, but he must’ve heard her behind him because he turned around. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She smiled. It wasn’t Dayne’s fault, and he was right: They were safe now.

“Where’s your bathroom?”

He directed her down a hallway, and she thanked him. Once she found it, she turned on the light and looked in the mirror. Her neck was worse than she’d thought. The knife blade had left three long horizontal lines across her neck.

She looked closer. They wouldn’t scar, but they’d be there for a few weeks at least.

Katy grabbed the edge of the sink, closed her eyes, and hung her head. God…

thank You for saving me. Her throat felt thick, bruised. The remembered pressure of the knife against her skin made it hard to swallow even now. Lord, what am I doing here? I thought You showed me that this was Your will. She swallowed, resisting the tears that welled in her eyes. But how can this be Your plan for me?

Daughter… hear My voice.., know Me.

She opened her eyes and gazed up. “God,” she whispered, ‘is that You?”

There was no response, but the quiet words still echoed in her heart. Hear My voice.., tnow Me. What did it mean? Hadn’t God made His ways clear to her earlier? The Flanigans had given her their blessing, and Dayne had told her that the situation with Tad was a rarity, an exception. Wasn’t this the dream come true she’d spent her childhood wanting?

She blinked and steadied herself. Dayne would be waiting, and tomorrow they were supposed to talk about the details of

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her contract. Only now nothing about it seemed as exciting as it had a few days ago, even a few hours ago. She left the bathroom and padded back down the hall.

All the while her heart pounded out an irregular beat. Dayne was making a plate of cheese and fruit when she turned into the kitchen. “Hey.” He smiled at her.

“Sit at the table over there in the dining room. I’ll be done in a minute; then we can talk.”

She did as he said, but she wondered what they would talk about. The fact that stalkers were a rarity? that the life of a Hollywood actor really was pretty normal other than the paparazzi and stalkers and wild nightlife and autograph seekers? She checked her watch. It was late, and the police were still on their way. She wouldn’t get to sleep until midnight.

Across from her was a magazine, one of the tabloids sold at supermarket checkout stands, the kind she rarely bought or looked at. But now, with Dayne busy in the kitchen, she slid it closer.

There on the cover was a picture of Dayne and actress Kelly Parker. The two were kissing, and the headline questioned whether they were back together again. Katy frowned and looked at the date. It was the current issue. Hadn’t Dayne said he wasn’t seeing anyone? She opened the magazine to the spread of Dayne and Kelly.

If the story the pictures told was true, Dayne might not be “seeing” Kelly, but he was definitely sleeping With her.

Katy felt her stomach turn. The strange feeling in her chest, the tightness and odd heartbeat, felt worse than before. Why had he lied to her? Did he think she wouldn’t find out about Kelly? And what did he owe her, anyway? This was obviously the way of things among Dayne and his peers. He probably thought nothing of spending the night with someone.

She shuddered.

The words she’d felt God impress upon her heart a few minutes ago came back: Daughter… hear My voice.., hnow Me. In

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light of all God would want for her life, everything about Dayne Matthews and his offer felt cheap and plastic.

She turned the pages, flipping past stories of two long-married couples, both now broken up, and one actress who had spent tens of thousands of dollars on Botox injections and chem ical burns to keep her face looking young. “In this business,” the actress was quoted as saying, “you’re only as good as the skin on your face.”

Nausea welled up in her. What was she doing here, anyway? She felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. If she could click her heels three times and be back at the Flanigans, she would.

“You okay out there?” Dayne called from the kitchen. “I’m almost done.”

Katy struggled to find the words. “Yes. I’m… I’m fine.” An other few pages and she saw photographs of movie stars caught in terrible moments—blowing their noses or adjusting their clothing. And near the back was a series of pictures of Dayne at a nightclub, a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

Katy studied the picture, stunned. Hadn’t Dayne said he avoided the nightlife?

So what did he mean? That he only par tied on the town a few times a week? She felt like she was being shown an entirely new side of the man, and the view wasn’t attractive.

It was Tad Thompson all over again.

Suddenly everything the Lord had laid on her heart made per fect sense. What had she felt before when she prayed about tak ing the part? That God would give her a sign, right? And now it was the same thing all over again. God wanted her to hear His voice, to know Him. And how better to know Him than by knowing what He wasn’t, where He wasn’t?

Dayne came up and stopped short, two plates of food in his hands. “What are you reading?”

Katy shut the magazine and pushed it away. She turned and met Dayne’s eyes.

“Take me back to my hotel, please, Dayne.”

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KAREN KINGSBURY

“Katy… you can’t believe what you read; I told you that.” He set the food down and took the chair beside her. He was about to say something else when there was a knock at the door.

“The officers?” She sat back in her chair, They wanted a statement from her too.

‘We’ll talk about this after they go.”

Dayne opened the door, and two policemen came in. He showed them to the table, and for an hour they recounted the events of the night. With every passing minute, Katy became more certain, more sure of her decision. Her time in CA was almost over. She would go home and find her place in Bloomington where she belonged. God had been faithful, as always.

If the night’s events weren’t signs enough, she wasn’t looking. When the officers had everything they needed, they gathered their notes and promised to be in touch with Dayne. “With the threats she made in writing and the attempt on Ms. Hart’s life, we’re pretty sure she’ll be locked up for a long time.”

Katy wished the news brought with it some relief to the anxiety that strangled her soul, but it didn’t.

When the police left, Dayne turned to her. “Did you hear what they said? She’s gone, locked up. She won’t be a problem.” He sat down beside her, his eyes locked on hers. “Don’t run, Katy. Please..

His words were too little, too late.

“Dayne… you tried.” She looked at the magazine and raised one shoulder. “I can’t do it.”

“Listen to me, Katy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking desperate for the right words. “What happened today will never happen again. Obsessed fans jumping out of bushes with knives?” He tried to laugh, but it fell flat. “The photographers and magazines, yes.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip.

“There’ll always be that side of the business. But what happened tonight won’t happen again in a..

His voice trailed off, and silence put up a wall between them. What was he trying to do? Convince her that staying would 312

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be best for her? It would be best for him, yes, but not for her. She closed her eyes for a moment. God… let him see what he’s doing, please. Dayne needed to release her rather than convince her to stay.

Another minute passed, and then he sucked in a strong breath and hung his head.

“I’m sorry.” He took her hands in his. “You don’t belong here, do you?”

It was the first completely honest thing he’d said since the police left. She gave the slightest shake of her head, her eyes watery. “No, Dayne, I don’t.”

He ran his thumbs along the tops of her hands. “You know what’s sad?’ His eyes found hers.

‘What?”

“That’s why you’re perfect for the part.” He studied her, his heart transparent.

“Perfect, and perfectly unable to take it at the same time.”

She felt the loss, much as he must’ve been feeling it. There would be no friendship forged, no chance at love. The canyon between their worlds had proved greater than any bridge that might’ve spanned it.

The time had come for him to let her go, and after a minute he found the strength to do so. “I’ll take you back now.”

“Thank you, Dayne.” She stood and slipped her purse over her shoulder. “Thanks for understanding.”

He breathed out and his shoulders slumped. Dayne Matthews, golden boy of the silver screen, looked—for the first time in the brief period Katy had known him—utterly defeated. “Okay.” His lips came together tight in a straight line.

“I’m sorry, Katy. This isn’t how I thought things would go.”

She didn’t want to cry, not until later. She gave him a sad smile. “Me either.”