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Authors: Nicole Richie

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BOOK: Priceless
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The Grove was located next to the old Farmers Market, and the crowds moved between the two places easily. A free trolley ran between them, and as one passed Charlotte, she jumped on, thinking maybe she would see Kat from the top deck.

It was empty up there, and Charlotte moved from side to side, searching the crowd and trying to ignore the rising panic she felt. Was this always going to be a possibility? That mad people would endanger her friends, herself? If something happened to Kat, she would never forgive herself and never rest until she found the man responsible.

The trolley had stopped at the Farmers Market end of the track and was taking on passengers for the return trip. Peering over the edge, she saw Dan Robinson getting on and frowned. Really, he was the most persistent and irritating man alive. She heard someone mounting the metal stairs to the top deck and wasn’t surprised when it turned out to be him.

“It’s nice of you to think of helping, Mr. Robinson, but I’m really better off alone.”

He stood there, saying nothing. She noticed he was wearing the same outfit he’d been wearing in New Orleans. He looked at her strangely.

“Are you OK, Mr. Robinson?”

“Call me Dan.”

“Are you OK?”

He nodded and suddenly smiled. “Did you bring your checkbook, Charlotte?”

She gazed at him in horror. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” He chuckled, a sound she recognized for the first time. “Who else could it possibly be but me, Charlotte? You’re so focused on yourself, you never really see anyone else, do you? No wonder Kat was so easy to pick off. You never considered that she might be in danger. All she knew was that she’d seen me with you before, and when I stabbed her, she was really surprised.” He laughed again, apparently delighted.

Charlotte sank onto one of the trolley seats. “But … why?”

“Why? I told you. Your father destroyed my parents. You’re going to make it better for them. Plus interest, of course. From the day the story broke, that day in the park, I knew I was going to get to you, going to take our money back. You’re weak, Charlotte, and I am strong. You’re young, your money will sit in the bank, and by the time you’re the age my parents are, you’ll be rich again if you don’t do anything stupid.”

Charlotte was angry. “What, like invest my life savings with a criminal?”

His face flushed. “Your father was a very convincing con man, Charlotte. You’ve inherited that skill, and people like Kat and Jackson believe you really care about them, when all you care about is who’s going to look out for Charlotte.”

The trolley started up again with a jolt, and Robinson grabbed the rail for support.

“Anyway, although this has been a pleasant chat, your little friend is bleeding to death in a car on the top level of the car park, and I’m in need of that check.”

He pointed at her. “If you do anything to stop payment on it or try to track me in any way, I will pick off another one of your friends. Or I’ll wait a few years until you have children, and I’ll grab one of them. But I’m an honorable man, and if you give me the money, I’ll run away somewhere nice and sunny and never bother you again.”

“How can I possibly trust you? You can’t even keep a conversation private.”

Robinson pulled a knife from his pocket. Its blade was still wet with Kat’s blood.

“I actually don’t give a shit if you trust me or not. All I care about is that check. Write it now, or I’ll kill you and then go back and finish off your friend. I’m just too pissed off at this point to accept anything other than lots of money or your dead body. Your choice, Charlie.”

As she stood there, she realized she could hear people laughing and talking, that all around her, stores were doing business, movies were playing, popcorn was popping. It reminded her of when her father was arrested in New York, this sense of life going on while hers stood still. In a moment like this, money became utterly irrelevent. She reached into her bag and pulled out her checkbook. The trolley stopped; something was wrong. She looked at Robinson—he knew it, too, and was frowning. She looked over the edge of the trolley rail. Everyone was getting off the trolley, and fast. They were right next to the fountain, which was going through one of its regular light and sound shows, its jets shooting impossibly high in the air, level with where she was sitting. People were looking up at her and pointing.

She looked over at Robinson again and saw why.

Scarsford. Gun drawn, he was standing at the top of the stairs.

“Hi there, Charlotte,” he said softly. “Are you OK?”

She nodded. “Kat …”

“We have her. She’s on her way to the hospital now.” He lifted his arm and pointed his gun at Robinson. “Dan Robinson, you are under arrest for extortion and assault with a deadly weapon. Why don’t you put down your knife and come with me? There’s no need for this to get out of hand.”

Robinson looked irritated. “What the hell? Why are you even here? She’s not under your protection.”

Scarsford didn’t move. “The SEC and the FBI are both keeping an eye on Miss Williams in case any of her father’s victims decide to take vengeance into their own hands. We’ve been watching you ever since we discovered you were responsible for the Web site.”

“You are? Why?” Charlotte was confused.

“For fun, you stupid bitch. Torturing you was the only thing keeping me going.” Dan Robinson threw down the knife suddenly. “You know, this is really just too fucking annoying. Everything works out for you, you spoiled cow, and now I’m going to have
to go on the run without even the satisfaction of killing you.” He turned amiably to Scarsford. “You’re spoiling all my fun, Agent Scarsford. And she didn’t even fuck you.”

And with that, he turned and jumped off the trolley, directly into the still singing fountain.

Chapter
THIRTY-NINE

When Kat woke up, the first face she saw was Charlotte’s.

She spoke through cracked lips. “What am I wearing?”

Charlotte’s mouth twitched. “A hospital gown.”

Kat carefully tipped her head so she could see. “Gray? Really?”

“It’s not actually that bad on you, to be honest. It sets off your hair nicely.”

Kat closed her eyes. “Oh, good. And presumably, I’m attractively pale?”

“Like Garbo in
Camille
.”

Kat smiled. “And I’m going to live?”

Charlotte nodded. “Yes. You’re going to be in here for a few more days, though. But that’s just as well, because it’s a freaking madhouse out there.”

“Why?”

“After Robinson jumped into the fountain and impaled himself on a floodlight, the crowd at the Grove all pulled out their cell phones and tweeted photos all around the world. In about thirty seconds, the press showed up, and Scarsford and I barely made it out alive.”

Kat smiled wearily. “Oh, it was Scarsford. I thought I was hallucinating. He saved my life, you know.”

“Mine, too.”

“He’s a bit of a stud. If I liked guys, I might go for him.”

“He’s handsome.”

“And heroic.”

“And back in New York already.”

“Just as well. Did you call my parents?”

Charlotte nodded. “Your mom got here this morning. She just popped out for breakfast. We didn’t think you were going to wake up for a while.”

“So you were just sitting there, waiting?”

Charlotte grinned. “Yup. If you think I’m letting you out of my sight for quite a while, you’re very much mistaken.”

Kat smiled back at her. “OK, then, I think I’ll go back to sleep.”

“Do that. I’ll be right here.”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Kat’s eyelids fluttered, and she slipped back into sleep. The doctors had been very worried about her for a while. She’d lost a lot of blood.

Charlotte sighed and watched her friend sleep. There was nowhere else she would rather have been in the world.

DAN ROBINSON THROWING
himself into the fountain had been horrific. Charlotte and Scarsford had both rushed down to see if they could help, but it was too late. Security at the Grove was tight, and even though medical personnel got there very quickly, Robinson had died at the scene. He was only twenty-nine.

Sometime later, Charlotte, Jackson, and Scarsford had been waiting outside the operating room as the doctors inside had tried to stem the internal bleeding that was threatening Kat’s life. Jackson had come as soon as Charlotte called, and he hadn’t let go of her hand since he’d arrived at the hospital. Charlotte had begun to cry.

“It’s my fault Robinson is dead. Whatever he did, he did because of my dad. Now his parents have lost all of their money and their son.”

Scarsford had shaken his head. “You’re just feeling guilty. He was an adult; he made his own choices. He published lies and hateful stories about you online. He made allegations you couldn’t respond to. And he kidnapped Kat and hurt her badly.” He’d smiled at her. “She’s going to be fine, though.”

“No thanks to me, right?”

Jackson had pulled her into a hug. “No thanks to your dad, Charlotte. He started this whole thing by stealing money. Don’t forget, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Scarsford had nodded in agreement. “Regardless of what I might have thought.”

Charlotte had kept crying, sobbing into Jackson’s chest, holding him tightly. She’d felt safe for the first time in weeks.

THE MEDIA WAS
having a field day.

“Embezzler’s Daughter in Mega-Mall Murder!” was one good headline.

When Charlotte and Jackson left the hospital, the photographers pushed one another into traffic to try to get a shot, leading to “Paparazzi Injured by Charlotte Williams, Sues!” Back at the hotel, she smiled at the guy who opened the door for her, giving rise to the classic “Charlotte Williams Laughs at Tragedy” article, which alleged that she was a heartless cow who only cared about her career and who considered the death of Dan Robinson to be “annoying.”

If she had learned one thing through this whole experience, it was that whatever you did, the press wrote what they wanted. There was no point in fighting it. The headline that never appeared was “Charlotte Williams Visits Dead Journalist’s Parents and Gives Back the Money Her Father Stole,” but then, that would be too long, anyway. And no one saw her do it, because by then, they were feeding on someone else’s tragedy.

JACKSON AND CHARLOTTE
closed the hotel-room door behind them and locked it. Wordlessly, they moved to the sofa and sat, still stunned by everything that had happened.

She looked at him. “Are you going back to New Orleans?”

Jackson shook his head. “Not right now. I’m sticking with you until all this mess settles down and you’re ready for me to leave. And who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind about L.A.”

She smiled at him. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for you to leave. Why don’t we forget about the record company and just hang out and make some music? I have enough money now for us to rent time in any studio in town. This has all happened so fast, let’s just slow it down and take our time.”

It was hard to resist her, the beautiful face he’d come to care about so much, the lovely body, and, more important, the warm hearted woman he knew he was falling in love with. She was smart and brave and unique.

BOOK: Priceless
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