Hollywood Kids (65 page)

He put down the Uzi, withdrew a pistol from his belt, took a few steps forward and shot her point-blank in the face.

She dropped like a heavy sack of flour.

Now what? He was confused. He hadn't come looking for these three people - he'd come to find Cheryl, to bring her back where she belonged.

Bitch! Look what she'd made him do.

In the distance Jordanna thought she heard gunfire.

I have to figure this out. Think logically. Get into his mind. Know what he's going to do better than he knows himself.

He probably thought he'd killed her, so maybe he wouldn't come back. On the other hand, he might return to bury her body. She shuddered at the thought.

Which would he do?

She hoped he'd come back, because if he didn't she was trapped in the cellar with no way of escape, and unless somebody found her...

The thought of being locked down there forever gave her chills.

Although it wouldn't be forever, she reasoned, someone would come looking eventually.

How many days could she last without food or water? Five, six?

Cheryl will fetch help before then, she thought confidently.

Unless... Cheryl... is... dead.

Oh, God. It wasn't possible, or was it? She'd heard gunfire. Maybe he'd caught up with Cheryl and gunned her down like a dog with no chance.

Mustn't think that way. Stay positive. Stay strong. The power of positive thinking conquers all.

The important thing was to decide what she was going to do if he came back. How could she defend herself?

Desperately she began searching around the small dark cellar for something she might use as a weapon, finally coming across a long slab of hard wood jammed under a water heater. She struggled to dislodge it.

It wasn't much, but it was certainly better than nothing.

The Man dragged the bodies to the side of the road, piling them together. It was hot work and dirty, his clothes were soon drenched in blood, but he didn't mind.

Once, when he was twelve, he'd skinned a live cat and hidden his bloodied clothes for days just so he could take them out and smell them. The clothes worked better than the dirty magazines his father collected - magazines filled with spread-eagled women featuring shaved twats and vacant smiles.

The physically exhausting work, the relentless afternoon heat and the smell of blood was getting to him. He felt aroused, like a horny bull.

He stopped for a minute and thought of Jordanna, freshly dead... her body barely cold.

Cheryl was gone. It was more than likely she would run for help and bring people back here. He had to leave, but first, Jordanna...

She set a trap, ready if he did return. Squeamishly she picked up the dead rat, placing it halfway down the stairs, figuring if she was lucky he'd trip and break his neck. Then she gathered dirt from the floor, putting it into a rusty tin can, and placing it next to her on the floor where he'd left her.

After that she positioned the block of wood, and arranged herself on top of it.

If he came back she was prepared.

Cheryl continued on her journey down the hill towards the noise of traffic. Staying close to the bushes, she was too scared to emerge. Her face and neck were scratched and torn, her stockings in shreds, her shoes long gone. The burning sensation in her stomach was getting worse, but she kept going - haunted by the sight of Zane, clad all in black like a Ninja assassin, dense shades covering his eyes, shooting those poor people down as if he were enjoying target practice.

It was plain to see he was insane and she feared for Jordanna.

The thought of getting help spurred her on as she stumbled along, moving through the heavy undergrowth as fast as she could.

For once in his life Grant was stone-cold sober. He sat in Cheryl's house trying to take care of business, but he was unable to concentrate. He had no interest in arranging appointments for their army of expensive call girls. He stonewalled prospective clients - including the regulars - and told all the girls to take a day off. Some of them were severely pissed - they were used to the extra money, supplementing their incomes as actresses and models. A couple of them threatened to leave and operate elsewhere. 'Go ahead,' he told them.

Eventually he turned on the answering machine and headed for the police station.

Screw business. All that really mattered was Cheryl's safety.

Luca returned to his suite trailed by Mac, his two private investigators and Reno. He shut himself in the bedroom and called Cartier. A salesperson assured him Bosco had purchased a diamond bracelet and left the store over an hour ago.

Luca was deeply puzzled. Why had Cheryl Landers - a rich Hollywood broad - been visiting someone like Bosco? Did Bosco have secrets he didn't know about?

Luca grimaced, he did not appreciate anyone keeping secrets from him, especially Bosco. Something strange was going on and he couldn't quite figure it out, which really infuriated him, because he was sharp - sharper than any of them.

It all had to do with his slimeball nephew. When he found Zane he would take great pleasure in personally disposing of him.

In the meantime, where the fuck was Bosco?

He went back into the living room just in time to witness the arrival of Detective Carlyle.

Jesus! Timing! If he'd come out to the coast a day earlier he'd have nailed his sonofabitch nephew, and he wouldn't be sitting in a hotel room dealing with private detectives, a dumb cop and his movie-director son who was scared shitless someone was going to find out about their relationship.

When timing was off, nothing went right.

Michael called Kennedy from the hotel. Where are you?' she asked. He told her. There was a long pause and then she said, 'Uh... Michael, did I miss something along the way? I had no idea you were this close to the action.'

'We've been working on something for Mac Brooks,' he explained, feeling guilty he hadn't told her before. 'He brought us to Carlotti.'

Warning bells went off in her head. Like Rosa she could smell a story like a drug-sniffing dog. 'Working on what?' she asked curiously.

'Uh... it's kinda confidential.'

Hmm... this from a man she'd just spent the morning in bed with.

'Mac Brooks was the director of the movie Zane was in,' she said. 'Did he
know
Zane was out of prison committing more murders? And what's his link to Carlotti?'

'Can we talk later?'

She hated it when someone answered a question with another question. 'No, let's talk now. Does Carlotti know where his nephew is?'

'He doesn't seem to.'

Her voice rose. 'Doesn't
seem
to? There's two girls' lives at stake here, Michael.'

'Believe me, I'm aware of that.'

'It doesn't sound like you are.'

'Kennedy, I know Jordanna, I care very much about finding her - so get off my case.'

'Get off
your
case? I didn't know it was
your
case.'

He'd called to tell her he missed her, now she was giving him a hard time. He didn't need this. 'I gotta go-'

'Keep me up to date on everything,' she said, all business. 'I'm going back to headquarters.'

'Kennedy -'

'Yes?'

'Uh... nothing.'

She hung up feeling let down and angry. Michael knew more than he was telling her and it disturbed her. What if he'd had information he'd kept back, and because of that two more women were dead?

No. Michael wouldn't do that.

Or would he?

Suddenly she realized she hardly knew Michael at all.

'I want to see photographs of both girls on every TV station, every newspaper - anywhere we can get 'em out there.' So spoke Boyd Keller to a room full of attentive officers. We've discovered no bodies yet. If these two girls are still alive, the public will help us find them. And, believe me, we need all the help we can get. Perry,' he added, snapping his fingers at an eager young detective, 'take the photos over to Carlyle at the St James's Hotel. He's expecting them.'

Boyd exited his office and surveyed his VIP guests through a two-way glass window. They were gathered in the conference room. Producers, movie stars, famous people everywhere he looked.

This would not be a good case to blow - he had to rally every resource to locate these two girls.

Frankly, he didn't think there was much hope of finding them alive.

Detective Carlyle sat uncomfortably in Luca Carlotti's suite, fidgeting on the plush couch. Getting information out of the New York mobster was a difficult task. Luca did not seem prepared to give him any of the answers he required.

'I ain't seen the kid since he got out of jail,' Luca said, resentful he'd been put in the position of having to answer questions.

'Where was he staying in LA?' Detective Carlyle asked in a not-too-pleasant way.

'What's with this questions shit?' Luca said, suddenly losing it. 'I don't havta answer nothin' without my lawyer present.'

'Why would you need a lawyer?'

'Cause you fuckers ain't interested in the truth. I got my rights, an' I don't havta talk to no one.'

Michael stepped into the picture, annoying Detective Carlyle who liked to think he was in total charge.

'Mr Carlotti,' Michael said. 'What we're trying to do here is find these two girls before your nephew does them any harm. Now, if you do know anything, you'd be well advised to give that information to the police. All they're asking for is your help.'

'Hey, if I knew anythin', you think I'd allow that dumb cocksucker to be runnin' around doin' what he's doin'? I ain't proud he's my nephew.'

There was a knock on the door. Reno answered it. Perry entered and handed the envelope of photographs to Detective Carlyle.

'What's that, a subpoena?' Luca said roughly. 'Cause if it ain't, get the fuck outta here. I ain't answerin' no more questions.'

Detective Carlyle wished he had the power to run Luca Carlotti in and beat the crap out of him. If there was one thing he hated it was people who were not intimidated by the fact that he was a police detective and had authority. He ripped open the envelope and handed the pictures of the two girls to Luca. 'Jordanna Levitt and Cheryl Landers,' he said, fighting to keep an impersonal tone.

Reluctantly Luca glanced at the two photographs. 'This ain't Cheryl Landers,' he said, frowning. 'This one's Bambi.'

'Who's Bambi?' Mac asked, wishing he were somewhere else.

'A friend of mine,' Luca said cagily.

'I'd like to know more about your friend, because this girl is Cheryl Landers,' Detective Carlyle said.

'Hey, Reno,' Luca said, beckoning him over. 'Take a look at this photo an' tell 'em who it is.'

Reno studied the picture. 'Bambi,' he said. 'No doubt about it.'

It was frustrating. Now that he was a movie star Bobby was used to everything going his way. He hated sitting around at the police station unable to do anything.

Grant Lennon, Junior turned up. He sat hunched in a corner looking depressed.

'There's nothing we can do here,' Ethan Landers said, walking over to Bobby. 'I'm in constant touch with the Chief of Police. He'll let me know as soon as anything happens. We're going home. You should do the same.'

'No,' Bobby said. 'I'll stay here.'

Jordan didn't leave. Whatever Jordanna might say about him, it was quite obvious he really loved his daughter.

Bobby sat down next to him. 'Whyn't you go home, I'll keep in touch.'

Jordan shook his head. 'I'd sooner be here.'

'How about your wife? Shouldn't you be with her?'

'No, I should be right here,' Jordan said.

They were both surprised when Charlie Dollar arrived, followed by two assistants with trayloads of sandwiches and refreshments.

'Came by to see if I could do anything,' Charlie said. 'I got this psychic thing - I'm tellin' ya, they'll be fine.'

Bobby nodded. He wanted to believe him, but it wasn't easy. The two girls had been snatched the night before, now it was nearly two in the afternoon.

Their chances of survival were getting less and less.

Cheryl sat on the ground and rested for a moment, dizziness and nausea overcoming her. She daren't emerge into the open, better to hide in the thick underbrush.

Jordanna. I've got to get help for Jordanna
. The thought kept her going.

The further down the hill she went, the louder the traffic sounded. Thank God, finally she was nearing civilization.

She tried to compose herself. It was important to stay together long enough to tell the police every little detail.

Kennedy returned to headquarters, unable to stay away. She kept on thinking about Michael and the fact that he might have known something without telling her.

He'd been aware she was working on the story the first time they'd met, surely he should have mentioned it?

The press were everywhere, but Rosa managed to hustle her inside past the rest of the reporters and TV crews. 'Boyd Keller and I are developing a very special friendship,' Rosa said, winking conspiratorially.

'What about Ferdy?'

'All good basketball players miss the shot eventually.'

'Does that mean it's over?'

'Right now he's on the bench.'

It didn't take long for Detective Carlyle to start putting it together. When he had to, he could figure things out pretty good. Luca Carlotti thought Cheryl Landers was Bambi. Bambi was a hooker. Could it be that Cheryl Landers and her boyfriend, Grant Lennon, Junior, were running hookers? And that Cheryl herself wasn't averse to doing a little putting out on the side?

He called Boyd Keller and told him of the new developments.

Boyd summoned Grant into his office and began questioning him. Grant told him everything.

Luca, realizing that Bambi/Cheryl was in trouble, revealed how Bosco and Reno had followed her the night before.