Read Poor Little Bitch Girl Online
Authors: Jackie Collins
Tags: #Romance, #Murder, #Contemporary Women, #Upper class, #Murder - California - Beverly Hills, #Collins; Jackie - Prose & Criticism, #Beverly Hills, #General, #Fiction - General, #Romantic suspense fiction, #Upper class - California - Beverly Hills, #Suspense, #Beverly Hills (Calif.), #California, #Fiction, #Literature & Fiction
When Detective Lennox had asked her what she was doing outside an abandoned gas station in the middle of nowhere, she’d stated that she was lost. No word that it was the place where Senator Stoneman had instructed her to meet him.
What a coincidence it all was. And how strange that the girl who’d shoved a chloroformed soaked pad in her face had known she was pregnant.
The girl’s words continued to haunt Carolyn.
She was released from the hospital within twenty-four hours, none the worse for her terrifying ordeal apart from several stitches in her wounded foot.
She left Washington with Gregory’s baby growing inside her and no regrets. She would have his baby, and that would be his punishment, for there was no way she’d ever allow him in her child’s life.
Senator Gregory Stoneman was dead to her. And that’s the way it would always be.
* * *
Zeena’s illustrious career continued to soar – as did her collection of young men. She’d recently appeared at the Maracanã Stadium in Rio, and along the way she’d discovered nineteen-year-old twins – male underwear models – who played as a team in more ways than one. Then along came Minda and Miranda, two stunning Brazilian Supermodels.
Zeena was quick to realize that mixed doubles was perhaps the most daring and exciting game of all.
Satisfaction guaranteed. That was for sure.
Once in a while Zeena’s thoughts drifted back to Bobby Santangelo Stanislopoulos whom she considered to be the one who got away. Yes, sometime in the future she was sure that they were destined to reconnnect, and when they did, maybe she’d tell him about her teenage adventure with his father, the great Dimitri.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Zeena never planned ahead.
* * *
Dr Glass and Detective Lennox tentatively began dating. The two of them were extremely busy people who did not have time for romance. Both divorced, they were taken by surprise when their casual relationship developed into something more.
* * *
Mario Riviera received a welcome promotion. From co-host on the half-hour daily show
Hollywood Word
, he was upped to weekend host, anchoring a solid hour on Saturday and Sunday by himself. Apparently the viewers appreciated his flirty and audacious attitude, not to mention his spectacular abs and appealing dimples.
Obviously Denver Jones did not appreciate any of it, for she failed to reply to his numerous texts, and never even thanked him for the flowers he’d sent her.
Too bad.
Miz Jones was missing out.
* * *
Rosa returned from Guatemala a changed girl. Spending time in a not-so-affluent country with her impoverished cousins had taught her a thing or two.
While she was away she missed her baby, and she determined to be a better mother. She also missed her momma, and promised herself she would stay home more, help out, and stop cutting school. Sleeping around was over for Rosa; she’d learned a serious lesson when she’d heard that Benito had been shot to death. His demise sent shivers down her spine; even more bad news, the shooter – now incarcerated – was her baby-daddy.
Rosa was still only sixteen, but the realization that she had to change her lifestyle was strong within her.
She often thought about the woman Benito had kidnapped, and after checking through old newspaper stories on the school computer, she found out who the woman was and that she’d been rescued.
The news filled her with relief, but she still felt guilty about her involvement. Her momma had sworn her to secrecy, warned her she was never to tell anyone. But the information was too much for her to keep to herself; she had to tell someone.
One day, after school, she went to see Ramirez at the community center he ran. She had never met him before, but she knew he was Benito’s brother, and according to reputation – a good man.
Nervously, she told him the whole story. He listened intently to every word.
When she was finished, Ramirez hugged her tightly and assured her she had done the right thing.
Rosa felt cleansed at last.
* * *
Ramirez thought long and hard about Rosa’s revelations.
He could go to the police, Detective Lennox in particular, because they’d known each other for some time and shared a mutual respect.
Or . . . he could keep his silence and use Rosa’s story to his own advantage.
Ramirez had a choice, and it wasn’t long before he decided which way to go.
Once more he called the Senator and requested a meeting. Senator Stoneman informed him he was too busy to meet at the present time.
Ramirez told the Senator that of course he understood, and perhaps he would call the Senator’s wife to discuss all the improvements he wished to put in place at the community center.
Gregory Stoneman sensed an implied threat, and agreed to another meeting with Ramirez.
Within weeks, work started to completely renovate the community center. The money Ramirez had been begging for suddenly began to flow.
As far as Ramirez was concerned, it was an extremely satisfying solution.
* * *
As for Senator Stoneman, he lived in abject fear that one day the truth would be revealed about his involvement in Carolyn’s kidnapping. There was no doubt in his mind that before Benito got himself shot, he’d confided in his brother, for although Ramirez had not said it in so many words, it was quite obvious that he knew.
And Carolyn seemed to know too. The look of disgust and disappointment in her eyes when he’d visited her in the hospital was not something he’d forget in a hurry. If she ever talked, his career would be over.
However, Gregory was a survivor
and
a politician, so with a bland smile on his face, he kept on going with the ever-perfect Evelyn by his side. And when Ramirez wanted something more from him, he obliged.
Senator Gregory Stoneman definitely knew what was best for his survival.
* * *
M.J. moved to Vegas with his new bride to oversee the relaunch of
Mood
– Las Vegas. When Cassie landed a gig singing in the lounge at the Cavendish, M.J. was delighted. He wanted her to get a shot at stardom if that was her dream, and since she was so young, experience was everything.
It might have been a quickie Vegas wedding, but after six months of being together every day, they were both convinced they were in it for the long run.
* * *
Janey Bonafacio was never able to track down Chip, nor could Frankie. Janey was relieved that Frankie had finally forgiven her for allowing Chip to run riot in their New York apartment, stealing photos, documents and all the cash from their safe.
Frankie had not discovered the money was gone until he and Annabelle had returned to New York for Annabelle’s appearance on
The Today Show
. When he’d found out they’d been robbed, he’d gone totally crazy.
Annabelle was more pragmatic. “There’s nothing we can do,” she’d said. “We’re lucky Bobby fixed it so we didn’t get arrested for running call girls.”
This was true. Bobby and his family’s connections had saved the day. Bobby was a true friend.
After a while Janey had headed to L.A. to be near her beloved cousin.
“What Chip did wasn’t your fault,” Frankie had informed her. “You may as well come work for me in L.A. I need someone I can trust. I’m back in business!”
Janey was only too happy to oblige.
* * *
Chip Bonafacio relocated to Tucson and managed to stay out of sight. Neither Frankie or his mom had any idea where he’d gone.
He changed his name, rented a penthouse apartment, hooked up with a pole dancer named Daisy, and bought himself a brand new motorcycle. Man, he was rolling in cash and he loved it.
However, his newfound affluence was not to bring him lasting joy. Three months after the
Truth & Fact
article ran, he was killed in a head-on collision with a delivery truck.
Daisy quickly gathered up all the cash he had left – which was quite substantial – and hurriedly ran out of town.
* * *
Hank Montero had not led a charmed life. He’d had the looks to become a movie star like his old pal, Ralph Maestro. Way back they’d attended an acting class together on Hollywood Boulevard. The class was run by a tightly-wound English woman who’d ended up sleeping with Ralph. Naturally, because she and Ralph were sleeping together, she’d given him all the best roles in the student productions – the shows that casting directors got to see.
Because he was front and center, Ralph was soon discovered, and Hank was left behind.
A couple of years later when Ralph was a known name, he’d had the studio hire Hank as his stunt double. Not a bad gig – until Hank had fallen off a goddamn building and broken nearly every bone in his body.
After that, things started to slide downhill – and when, many years later, Hank had finally looked up his old pal Ralph Maestro and begged for a loan, Ralph had said he’d think about it.
Think about it, for crissakes! Ralph was a freakin’ movie star with money comin’ out his ass! Hank was major pissed.
But two months later, to his surprise, Ralph had called him. They’d met at a bar on Hollywood Boulevard – a place they’d used to frequent back in the day.
Ralph had a proposition. It wasn’t a proposition that Hank particularly embraced, but he was desperate for money, and what the hell. The way Ralph explained it, the bitch had it coming.
Ralph set everything up. Gave him the place of entry to his house – assured him there would be no alarm on the side door he told him to enter by, and that the dogs would be secured. Ralph issued instructions on where to go and exactly what to do once he got in. Ralph laid it out so there could be no mistakes.
Except nobody had taken into consideration Hank’s third wife, the coked-up Pinky, and her out-of-control jealous streak.
Who would’ve thought she’d grab his gun (the same weapon Ralph had told him to dump in the L.A. River immediately after shooting Gemma – which of course he hadn’t done) and attempt to blow his ass off? And who would’ve thought the goddamn nosy neighbor would call the cops? And who would’ve thought Ralph Maestro would walk away clean, while
he
, Hank Montero, received a minimum sentence of nineteen years in prison, because the jury of his so-called peers did not believe that Ralph Maestro had hired him to take care of business.
No indeed, Hank Montero had
not
led a charmed life.
* * *
The opening of the revamped
Mood
in Vegas was destined to be a lavish affair. Bobby wasn’t into organizing a huge party, but Lucky was, and so was M.J. Between the two of them they planned to make it the grand club opening of the year.
Invitations were sent out ahead of time.
Bobby personally mailed one to Denver. He wasn’t sure if she’d respond – after all, he hadn’t heard from her since he’d left her in L.A. with an obvious boyfriend lurking on her doorstep.
Damn! He’d been looking forward to getting to know her, spending time with her, taking it slow and easy.
She’d told him she didn’t have a boyfriend. Apparently she did.
He decided to phone her and see if she was coming to the opening – with or without her boyfriend. Preferably without.
Over the last few months he’d taken out a few girls, and they were always lacking that certain something Denver possessed. He’d thought about her a lot.
She picked up on the third ring.
“Hey –” he said. “It’s Bobby.”
Without taking a beat, she said, “The same Bobby who ran off and left me with an ex-boyfriend on my doorstep? Not even an ex – a one-nighter from my past. Thanks a lot.”
“I was being respectful,” he said, feeling an immediate connection.
“And not even a phone call,” Denver chided.
“Hey, whattya mean – a one-nighter?” he said lightly. “I didn’t tag you as a one-nighter kind of girl.”
“You didn’t tag me at all,” she said boldly, delighted to hear from him.
When she’d received the invitation to the opening of
Mood
, she’d kind of hoped he would call. But then she’d thought,
Why would he?
Over the last few months she’d been busy getting her new career off the ground, and she hadn’t thought about Bobby that much.
Well, sometimes . . . when she was out on a boring date and started remembering their camaraderie and the closeness they’d felt.
Christmas had come and gone, and so had Carolyn – her pregnant friend who flatly refused to reveal who the father was. Carolyn had given up her job in Washington and moved back to L.A. to spend time with her mother – Clare Henderson was in the throes of divorcing Carolyn’s dad.
Denver had a new job working for the city. She was an Assistant D.A. and she loved it. Prosecuting the bad guys was far more satisfying than defending fat cat movie stars with friends in high places.
“So,” Bobby said, “if that guy was a one night only, does that mean you’re free?”