Deadly Embrace (35 page)

"It's a tough one."

"So tell me what it is."

"Your father is being accused of killing Stella and her
boyfriend," Dani blurted out.

"Come
on
," Vincent said disbelievingly.

"There's a warrant out for my arrest," Michael said. "It probably
won't be long before they come sniffing round here."

"Jesus Christ!" Vincent repeated. As if this evening hadn't been
bad enough, he now had to hear that his father was on the run from a
murder charge.

"I didn't do it, in case you're wondering," Michael said. "It's a
setup."

"Who set you up?"

"I have enemies—longtime enemies. Grudges that go way
back."

"This is insane."

"I know."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Look after your mother. Contact Madison and Sofia. I think they
should both come here for a while."

"To do what?"

"Be protected," Michael said. "You can arrange that, can't
you?"

"Yes. Only I should point out that I have no idea where either of
them are."

"Madison's in New York," Michael said, reaching for the phone.
"I'll call her now."

"You think she'll fly out here?"

"If I tell her it's important, she'll come."

"How about Sofia?"

"Find her. If
you
don't, somebody else might. And
Vincent—believe me—that could be deadly."

* * *

When Jenna heard the front door slam and realized that Vincent had
gone out, she couldn't believe it. How dare he nag and scream at her,
then leave her alone in the apartment. She was livid.

She came out of the bedroom and took a good took around. He was
definitely gone.

" Quick as a flash, she ran to the phone. "Andy Dale's suite," she
said to the operator.

"One moment please," the operator replied.

Anais answered the phone, or at least it sounded like her.

"Is Andy still around? This is Jenna Castle."

"Hey, baby," Anais said, sounding real friendly. "We're packin' up
an' blowin' this dump. You wanna talk to the man?"

"Yes, please."

"Sure, babe. You gonna party with us later?"

"Maybe," Jenna said, hopefully.

Andy got on the phone. He did not sound happy. "I'm sick of your
freakin' husband chasin' me everywhere I go," he complained.

"I called to apologize," Jenna said. "Vincent gets into silly
moods sometimes. It's not as if anything was going on between you and
me."

"It's not like I don't
want
something to go on between us,"
Andy said, warming up.

"Really?"

"Didn't you feel the vibe?"

"Yes... I did," she said excitedly. "Where are you going now?"

"I got a suite at the Bellagio. Wanna join us? We're ready to
party, only
don't
bring your old man. An'
don't
tell
the asshole where you're going, okay? 'Cause I'm not into another
confrontation."

She took a long, deep breath. Andy Dale was a huge movie star, and
this was her big opportunity. Was she supposed to pass it up simply
because Vincent was jealous?

No way.

"I'll be right there," she said.

"You got it, foxy."

* * *

The procession made its way down the darkened alleyway toward the big
black van parked there. Madison realized that this was probably the
most dangerous time of all.

Once they reached the van, she was relieved to see that it was
probably large enough. Hopefully it had a tracking device in it.

A voice boomed out of a nearby loudspeaker. "Why don't you give it
up now? Let the hostages go, drop your weapons and surrender."

The ringleader nudged Madison in the ribs with his gun. She could
smell his sweat and fear. He might act tough, but she knew he must be
nervous. "Keep moving," he muttered.

She did as she was told, along with everybody else, wondering if
they'd encounter a roadblock when they drove out of the alley.

Roughly he shoved her in the van. The rest of them managed to
squeeze in too.

Cole got behind the wheel, the main gunman crowded up next to him,
while Madison sat on his other side. Everyone else was crammed in the
back.

It occurred to her that if the cops started shooting, she and Cole
were prime targets. Cole especially, because he was in the driver's
seat.

Cole started the engine. The gunman leaned forward, checking to
make sure the gas tank was full. "Let's fuckin' go," he yelled. "Move
it!"

"Where?" Cole asked.

"Turn onto Beverly an' floor this mothafucker."

"Yes," Cole said, doing as he was told. And they roared off.

Silently Madison began reciting a prayer, knowing that within
minutes there was a strong possibility that they could all be
dead.

It was Madison's third birthday. She sat with a dozen other
toddlers in the garden of Tina and Max's new house, which was now her
home, and watched in fascination as a funny man dressed like a clown
blew up different-colored balloons and twisted them into animal
shapes. Susie, Tina and Max's daughter, sprawled on the grass next to
her. At seven, Susie was a cute little girl, with two missing front
teeth and a sweet smile. Harry, her eight-year-old brother, was not
so nice. His favorite occupation was pulling Susie's hair, destroying
her dolls, and teasing her until she screamed.

Tina was constantly nagging at him to behave himself.

Max was constantly telling Tina to shut up. "He's a boy," he said.
"That's what boys do."

"Not this boy," Tina retorted.

Michael arrived late and stood at the kitchen door watching his
daughter. She was such a little beauty. So full of life, so like
Beth. Thank God for Max and Tina. They'd been there when he'd needed
them, they were always behind him. Unlike Catherine, who'd accused
him of murdering her sister.

The last two years had been a living nightmare. Coming home that
night drunk, getting hit on the head, and then— when he
regained consciousness—he'd been holding a gun. His gun. And
the police were standing over him.

Beth was dead, shot in the back of the head. Madison was asleep in
her crib, the press were outside the house, and he was read his
rights and arrested for Beth's murder.

It wasn't true. He hadn't done it. Once more he'd been set up, and
once more he'd had to struggle to prove his innocence.

This time Vito Giovanni supported him, hiring the best criminal
defense attorney and paying for everything.

Vito was a wise man. He knew Marnie was in some way responsible,
and because he was genuinely fond of Michael, he'd felt a sense of
guilt.

Marnie denied she had anything to do with it. Not that Michael had
had a confrontation with her, but Vito had, and she'd sworn she was
not involved.

They both knew she was lying.

"My lawyers will get you off," Vito had promised. And they
did.

He'd still had to go through the media blitz. The press anointed
him Vito Giovanni's blue-eyed boy. Except that he didn't have blue
eyes, and he wasn't anybody's boy. So not only did he have to bear
the grief of Beth's death, he'd also had to endure the constant
exposure that the press decided to bestow upon him.

The day he was arrested was a slow news day, and his extreme good
looks put him right on the front pages.

The headlines were lurid and without merit.

PRETTY BOY KILLER
The Man with the Golden Smile

Fame, even if it was only transient, was horrifying. Women began
writing him—thousands of letters—sending pictures of
themselves in scanty outfits, claiming they wanted to marry him, have
his children, save him. There were a lot of nuts out there.

He endured it because what else could he do? He had no choice.

After spending several months in jail there was a trial, and
eventually he was acquitted.

He'd never forget Catherine's face the day she stood in the
witness box claiming he'd told her that if Beth so much as looked at
another man he'd kill her.

Sure he'd said it, he was angry that day. But he hadn't meant it.
And Catherine knew that.

Other witnesses came forward. People he didn't know, people who'd
attended the fashion institute with Beth. Many claimed she'd often
said that the man she lived with was insanely jealous. He could just
imagine Beth saying that—it was her way of getting attention.
She'd always got off on creating havoc.

His lawyer destroyed the witnesses one by one. Tina and Max took
Madison in, treating her as if she were one of their own children.
He'd never forget their kindness—they were true friends.

After Beth's death, Catherine had attempted to gain custody of
Madison, but she had not succeeded.

He had no idea where Catherine was now. He hated her. She actually
believed he'd killed Beth—the love of his life. It was
unthinkable she would believe such a thing.

Sometimes, when he relived that night, the horror was too much to
bear. And the sadness...

Now time had passed since he was acquitted, and he wanted his
daughter back.

"She's better off staying with us," Tina informed him.

"No, she's not," he argued. "She should be with me."

"You live in some crummy hotel," Tina pointed out. "Who'll look
after her?"

"I'll get an apartment, hire a nanny."

"Is that how you want your daughter raised—by a nanny?
That's not fair to Madison. She's happy around Susie and Harry."

"I know, Tina, and I appreciate it, only I gotta claim my life
back—and Madison
is
my life."

After his acquittal he'd legally changed his name from Castellino
to Castelli. He'd torn up the letters and photos he'd received from
all those women, and tried to stay out of the limelight. People had
short memories—it was only a matter of time before they'd
forget the notorious headlines and he could slide back into
obscurity.

Bone had left town. According to Gus, he'd moved out to the West
Coast. He knew beyond a doubt that Bone and Marnie were responsible
for Beth's murder. The two of them together had hatched some kind of
diabolical plot. But why? That was the question. What had Beth done
to them? Did they hate him so much that they had to murder the one
woman he loved?

Vito Giovanni had counseled him. "Look at it this way," Vito had
said. "
You
whacked Roy. Then someone did this unfortunate
thing to you. Now ya gotta leave it alone— you're even."

Even! Was Vito fucking crazy? They'd
never
be even.

"Michael," Tina said, interrupting his thoughts, "can you help me
bring out the cake?"

"Sure," he said.

"Can't wait for Vegas this weekend," she said excitedly as he
followed her into the kitchen. "It'll be so much
fun
!"

What was fun anymore? He didn't know. He didn't care. He'd
promised Tina and Max a weekend in Las Vegas to celebrate their
wedding anniversary, and he would try to make it fun for them.

Everyone sang "Happy Birthday," while Madison jumped up and down
squealing with excitement. Harry made a futile attempt to shove her
face in the cake. Susie slapped him away. Tina began yelling at them
both. There were kids and toys and balloons everywhere.

"Love you, Daddy," Madison lisped, bestowing a big sticky kiss on
his mouth. "Love you
sooo
much!"

He picked her up and hugged her to him. "You're my world, baby,"
he said. "You know that? You're my whole wide world."

"I'm my daddy's whole wide world," she repeated proudly. "Love
you, Daddy."

"Yes, kitten," he said, putting her down. "Ain't
that
the
truth."

He'd never get over Beth, but at least he had his precious
daughter. That was something.

* * *

Returning to Vegas with Max and Tina brought back a rush of memories.
Fortunately, none of them were of Beth. He'd managed to
compartmentalize his life, and Beth was not part of his memories of
Vegas.

They'd left the children with Tina's parents, so he felt secure
that Madison was in good hands.

The moment they landed, Tina was in heaven. "Oh my God! Oh my
God!" she said, hyperventilating. "Can we go see Elvis?"

"We'll never get tickets," Max said, always the pessimist.

"I can arrange it," Michael said. "I got connections here." He was
boasting, but why the hell not? If Tina was hot to see Elvis, that's
exactly what she would do.

He wondered if Manny Spiven was still around. Then, for some
unknown reason, he began thinking about the blond. What was her name?
Dani. Yeah. Dani.

That was a long time ago. A one-night stand. Why was he thinking
about
her
? He wondered if she was still in the chorus line at
the Estradido.

No, she was probably long gone, married and living in Omaha with
three kids and a fat husband.

"I want to see
everything
," Tina enthused as the airport
cab drove them into town. "I want to go to every hotel, every casino.
I want to drive up and down the Strip. This is so exciting! You have
no idea."

Vito Giovanni had arranged for them to have their rooms comped at
the Estradido Hotel. He'd gotten them the best, which Michael was
grateful for. It helped that he'd recommended a market buy to
Vito— a stock that had doubled over a three-week period.

"Where'd you learn about this shit?" Vito had asked.

He'd shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess."

"I want you t' do more for me."

"Fine with me."

Karl Edgington's picks were always right on the money, and over
the last few years he'd been making himself a small fortune. He
didn't have to work for anyone anymore, he was his own
boss—with the help of Karl, who according to Warner Carlysle
was due to be released any day now.

"There's a Jacuzzi in the living room," Tina giggled to Michael
when they all met downstairs for a drink after checking into the
hotel. "Can you
believe
it?" she said, wide-eyed. "In the
living
room. Max is the happiest man around!"