The Fixes (24 page)

247.

“That's bullshit,” E says. “Can't you, like, file a complaint?”

“With who?” Haley says. “The police? It's his word against hers. And he's freaking
. He's untouchable.”

“Anyway, it was pretty under-the-table,” Paige says. “I didn't exactly fill out any tax forms. I was working illegally. Nobody's going to take my side.”

“Except us,” Jordan says.

They all turn to look at him. Jordan gives them that devil-may-care smile. “Well?” he says. “This is
perfect
. It's Paige's turn for a Fix anyway.”

“No way,” Paige says. “This is not a Fix situation.”

“Why not? This is tailor-made. One of the best things about these Fixes is we can solve problems we couldn't solve otherwise, right?”

Paige looks at Haley. “Tell them what you told me.”

Haley shakes her head. “It's really not a big deal.”

“Tell them.”

“Fine.”
Haley sighs. She looks around the Cactus Club, and leans across the table. “Look, the police came by my house the other day. That detective from the papers, Dawson or whatever. His partner, too. They wanted to know if I knew anything about the bombing.”

“And?” E says.

“And I told them I didn't know shit. What do you think?
It's not a big deal, like I said. They obviously don't know anything. I don't even know why I told Paige.”

“We still have to be careful,” Paige says. “The police have those composite sketches from the Room thing.”

“Which don't even look like us,” Jordan says. “No one's going to suspect us. And even if they do, who gives a shit? We're actually changing this god-awful place. Aren't you proud?”

“Tell me you don't want to get this sleazeball back for what he did to you,” Haley says. “Tell me no part of you whatsoever is itching to burn this douche with your Fix. Tell me you're fine letting him go on filming his shitty movie while you're out of a job and can't pay your tuition, because you wouldn't be his, like, concubine. Go on, Paige. Tell me.”

Paige doesn't say anything. She looks around the table. Her eyes find E's. She studies him for a moment. “What do you think?” she asks. “What should I do?”

E knows what Eric would say.

Eric would preach caution.

Eric would tell Paige to wait until the heat dies down. He would point out that the Capilano police are already sniffing around, that there are Vines out there that could incriminate the whole crew. He would suggest that now might not be the right time to try anything too, you know,
visible
.

Eric would tell the others to THINK about THEIR FUTURES.

(But Eric hasn't been around for a very long time. And
E
, well, he's on a whole different wavelength.)

“This guy sounds like an asshole,” E says. “Let's torch him.”

248.

They order another round of Sunset Beaches. The mood is celebratory. They lean in close to one another and start to hash out a plan.

“
has this limited-edition Ferrari he
adores
,” Paige tells them. “Like, obsesses over. He won't even fly his fiancée up from L.A., but he made the producers pay to have his car sent here.”

“That's our target,” Jordan says. “Haley can boost it.”

Paige shakes her head. “He keeps two security guards posted beside it whenever he's on set. That's, like, their only job, to watch that car. Anyway, it's kitted out with an alarm and an immobilizer. You need the actual key to override the alarm.”

“How do you know all this?” Haley says.

“Because
never shuts up about it. The whole time I was in his trailer he blabbed about his stupid million-dollar car. I could probably tell you the VIN if I thought hard enough.”

“Well, he's not on set all the time,” Jordan says. “Maybe we just go to where he parks it at night, bring Molotov cocktails, and trash the Ferrari where it stands. No need to drive the piece of shit at all.”

“It's parked in the basement of the St. Regis hotel,” Paige says. “A private garage, accessible only by room key, and monitored by a parking attendant.”

“Security's tight at the St. Regis,” Jordan says. “I tried to swipe a fork from the restaurant at Easter brunch and they nearly had me arrested.”

“So maybe the Ferrari isn't the answer,” E says. “Is there anything else we can try?”

“Nothing as good as trashing his pride and joy,” Paige says.

“Nothing as
fun
, either.”

“The Ferrari is definitely the target.” Jordan thinks for a moment or two. Another round of drinks arrives and is consumed. Then Jordan claps his hands.

“Okay,” he says. “I have a plan.”

249.

Jordan lays out his plan.

It's audacious, obnoxious, stylish, and cinematic. (Dangerous, too.) It's everything a Suicide Pack Fix should be.

“It's a twist on the honey pot,” Jordan tells the others. “A little femme-fatale action. Paige tells
she wants her job back. She's willing to meet him in his room at the St. Regis. She'll do
whatever it takes
to convince him.” He pauses. “Of course, the little pervert will know she wants to sleep with him. He'll jump at the chance, because he's a piece of shit.”

Haley makes a face. “Gross.”

“But what's better than one smoking-hot Capilano girl?” Jordan looks around. “
Two
, obviously. So Paige will bring Haley along. She really,
really
wants her job back.”

“Great,” Haley says. “So I have to meet this douche, too.”

“Once you ladies are in the room, you'll swipe
's room key, and the keys to the Ferrari. Then you'll get the hell out of there, and—”

“Wait,” E says. “I feel like you're glossing over a really important step here.
How
exactly are they supposed to take the keys without
seeing?”

Jordan looks at E like he's dumb. “There's two of them, E. I'm sure they can come up with a way to distract a sleazebag with one thing on his mind.”

E doesn't look convinced.

“Shit, if all else fails, they slip a roofie in his drink. Knock him out cold. Lift the keys, easy, while he's snoring away.”

“I have another question,” Paige says, raising her hand. “Won't
figure out pretty quick who stole his car? I mean, we come up there and then his car disappears. And we didn't even sleep with him?”

“I'm
not
sleeping with him,” Haley says.

Jordan holds up his hands. “He'll know exactly who stole his precious Ferrari. But he won't do a damn thing about it.”

They all stare at Jordan, waiting for the punch line.

“Why not?” E asks.

“Because Haley's seventeen,” Jordan says. “And because you'll have pictures. TMZ will build a shrine to us—”

(
FAMOUS MOVIE STAR CAUGHT IN UNDERAGE THREESOME!!!
)

“His fiancée will leave him. His reputation will be shot. He'll know it was us, but he won't do a damn thing about it.”

250.

They all kind of sit and stare at Jordan in silence for a minute. Another round of Sunset Beaches appears.

“Uh, okay,” Haley says. “So after me and Paige grab the keys and skedaddle, what happens next? We just get in this guy's car and drive away?”

Jordan shakes his head. “You rendezvous with E in the lobby. Hand the keys off.”

“Wait,” E interrupts. “Why me?”

“You look kind of like
,” Jordan says. “Same height and build, similar hair color.” He blows a kiss across the table. “You're much cuter, of course.”

“Younger, anyway,” Haley says.

“Gee, thanks,” E says.

“You'll be wearing a hat to conceal your true identity. You and Paige will take the keys down to the garage. Drive away in the Ferrari. It will be dark, and the parking attendant will be looking into your high beams. He won't get a good view before he's eating your dust.

“You get the hell out of there,” Jordan continues. “Go for a joyride. Meet Haley and me up at Fincher's Bluff.” He winks. “We'll bring the Molotov cocktails.”