Double Lucky (108 page)

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Authors: Jackie Collins

BOOK: Double Lucky
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“The paramedics will be here any minute,” she said, gazing intently at her daughter. “Are you okay?”

Max nodded, a lone tear trickling down her cheek. “I was so scared for you, Mom. I tried to help.
We
tried to help.”

“Yes,” Lucky said gravely. “I know you did.” Then she added with the hint of a smile, “We make quite a team. Where did
you
learn to kick ass?”

Max gave a wan smile. “From my amazing mom, where else?”

And they exchanged a warm look.

Minutes later Lennie and Danny arrived, followed by the paramedics.

Lucky knew that this was not the right time to ask Max what was going on. There was always another day. And eventually she would find out everything.

 

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

Mysteries take place, and sometimes they are never solved.

Take the case of Armand Jordan. The man lost consciousness due to an overindulgence of liquor, heroin, and cocaine. The paramedics arrived in time to save him, but it was not to be, because no one was able to save him from the precise bullet hole right between his eyes.

Prince Armand Mohamed Jordan had been shot execution style, and only two men knew why.

To everyone else it was a mystery that would never be solved.

 

EPILOGUE

Three Months Later

 

Everyone was questioned about Armand Jordan's murder, even Lucky. It became quite clear to the investigating detectives that while the melee was taking place in front of the villa, a lone assassin had managed to somehow slip inside the villa and finish Armand off.

It was a professional hit, no doubt about it. The only witness was an exotic dancer commonly known as Seducta Sinn. But Seducta claimed to have been asleep (passed out) at the time, and saw and heard nothing.

*   *   *

Within days, Mikey and Randy Sorrentino were arrested outside of Nashville and charged with grand theft and aggravated assault.

They both lawyered up and instantly turned against each other.

Mikey ended up back in jail, while Randy found himself facing ten months' probation.

The money suitcase was eventually returned to Fouad, minus $15,000.

*   *   *

Seducta Sinn reveled in a few weeks of minor celebrity. She was the woman in the same hotel room as a murder victim—a well-known New York businessman. She was an exotic dancer, and all the TV shows clamored for an interview.

Her newfound fame did not last long, and eventually she resumed her job at Dirty Den's. A few weeks later she filed for divorce from Mikey, and shortly after that she moved in with Randy.

The two of them decided they'd found true happiness at last, even though Randy didn't have a job, and some nights Seducta was too drunk to make it to Dirty Den's.

But true happiness comes in all different forms, and they were content.

*   *   *

Luscious vanished with the $10,000 she'd persuaded Mikey to give her from the infamous suitcase. The moment they'd left Vegas, she'd decided she wanted out. Mikey scared her, and she'd finally decided that Randy was an idiot.

She'd worked on Mikey until he'd agreed to give her some money, then she'd taken it and fled. She hadn't wanted any involvement in what she thought of as the Cavendish Hotel incident. She'd changed her name and taken a bus cross-country to Chicago, where she got a job as a waitress and faded into the background of a mundane life. For the time being, living a mundane life suited her just fine.

*   *   *

Paco informed Harry, after one brief awkward encounter in the men's room at Wonderball, that he wasn't (just as Max had suspected) gay after all.

A very disappointed Harry continued searching for the right one.

*   *   *

Annabelle and Eddie got married at The Beverly Hills Hotel. It was the first time for both of them, and each of them had their reasons.

Eddie figured marrying Annabelle was somehow or other getting himself attached to Hollywood royalty. After all, her parents were movie stars, even though her dad, the very famous Ralph Maestro, had probably arranged the murder of her very famous mother, Gemma Summer Maestro.

Who cared? This was a Hollywood murder. Ralph Maestro walked free.

And Annabelle decided that marrying Eddie was a good thing because he was a comer with clout and an A-list cluster of clients.

One day Eddie would run a studio, Annabelle was sure of it. And she'd be Mrs. Eddie Falcon, with power up the wazoo. Not such a bad thing.

She never spoke of her evening with Armand Jordan. It was best forgotten.

*   *   *

Alex Woods still had lust in his heart for the unobtainable Lucky Santangelo. He moved yet another Asian beauty in with him, and bided his time.

Alex was not a man who gave up easily.

*   *   *

Remaining Venus's resident stud for almost three months garnered Jorge a huge amount of publicity. The two of them were all over the Internet, a staple of gossip columns, and of magazines that loved nothing better than putting them on the cover. Together, they made a stunning couple.

The publicity benefited them both. Women were envious of Venus, but they also admired the fact that at forty-something, she was able to attract and keep the attention of such a virile young man.

Jorge became a known name in his own right. So much so that Calvin Klein hired him to be the face and body of the next big underwear campaign.

Jorge was on his way to getting exactly what he wanted.

Fame.

Money.

Recognition.

Love would come later.

*   *   *

Meanwhile, Venus met a Venezuelan avant-garde film director who saw her as more than just a blond and beautiful superstar sex symbol who happened to sing, dance, and act. He saw her as everywoman, an earthy creature whose incredible potential had yet to be unleashed on the world.

She saw him as the intellectual savior she had been searching for.

Together they had big plans.

*   *   *

Danny and Buff got married in Oregon. The trip was a wedding present from Lucky, who felt Danny deserved some time off.

Danny complained all the way about how ridiculous it was that gay marriage was not legal in California, the most laid-back state of all.

Buff heartily agreed.

And after five wonderful days, they returned to Vegas in full wedded bliss.

*   *   *

M.J. never did get to take Cassie on the trip he'd planned, for the night of Armand Jordan's murder was the night she lost their baby, solving all their problems. Although deep down, M.J. couldn't help feeling that maybe she'd done something to facilitate the miscarriage.

He desperately tried to put it out of his mind, but somehow it lingered.

*   *   *

Fouad recovered nicely. His wife and children flew to Las Vegas to be by his side, and later, back in New York, they all shared in the surprise that Armand Jordan had split his estate fifty-fifty. Half to his mother, and the other half to Fouad.

It made Fouad sad that Armand had come to such an unfortunate end, for although Armand had been an extremely difficult and challenging man, they had indeed shared many interesting times before the drugs had taken hold.

Strangely enough, Fouad missed him.

To celebrate his newfound position as head of Jordan Developments, Fouad collected all of Armand's sex DVDs and promptly destroyed them.

He determined that Armand's legacy would be pristine, and that his reputation would remain untarnished.

*   *   *

Peggy Dunn was all set to organize a spectacular New York funeral for her only son. She had Fouad contact the king and tell him the sad news in case he wanted to attend. The king responded by saying that he wished the funeral to take place in Akramshar. It would be a state funeral, and his people would make all the arrangements.

Peggy agreed, and it was then that Fouad revealed that Armand had a wife and four children in Akramshar.

At first Peggy was horrified and shocked. How could Armand have a family she knew nothing about? Why had he never told her? It was unbelievable.

But as the news settled in, she experienced a strong feeling of excitement and anticipation.

She had grandchildren. Four of them. She was not alone, she had a family.

Peggy couldn't wait to meet them.

On the plane to Akramshar, sitting beside Fouad and his lovely wife, Alison, she reached into her purse and took out the envelope from the DNA sample lab. She had not opened it, and now she decided she never would.

In her mind, Armand was a prince. May he rest in peace.

*   *   *

Ace returned to Big Bear, where he hooked up with a young, pretty waitress who came from a similar background to his. He tried to forget Max Santangelo. She wasn't for him; why had he been fooling himself? They lived in two different worlds, and much as he'd tried to fit in, he'd finally realized it was never going to happen.

*   *   *

Kev became rich, or relatively so, for Ellie's pictures caused a bidding war among the tabloids, and true to her word, Ellie cut him in for half.

But Kev wasn't happy. He'd betrayed his friend, and not only that, he'd stayed hidden in the bushes like a coward as the dude with the knife had started attacking everyone. He hadn't even emerged to help Billy, and the guilt was killing him.

He took his money and slunk off to New York.

*   *   *

Ellie sold her pictures to the tabloids before talking to the police. As a potential material witness she was sternly warned that she should have come forward instead of concealing evidence. She never mentioned that there was someone with her. Kev had begged her not to say he was present, so she'd complied.

Eventually she'd hired a lawyer, pleaded innocence, and handed over all her photos.

All except one.

She'd captured the image of a tall African American man in a black suit, slipping quietly into the villa as Randy emerged.

Was she the only one to see him?

Apparently so.

She placed the photo in a safe-deposit box and wrote a note to her significant other that if anything happened to her it should be given to the police.

Ellie was nothing if not street-smart.

*   *   *

Sam's movie came out and was a big hit. Hollywood wanted him, and was prepared to pay for the privilege.

He still sent Denver the occasional text, but she had yet to visit him on the set.

In Sam's mind, there was always tomorrow.

*   *   *

Gerald M. took off on a European tour with a Swedish blonde he'd met in Vegas. He was proud to have her accompany him to London, Paris, and Berlin, countries where he was still a certified superstar. The fans appreciated the smooth soul that was the sound of Gerald M. They worshipped at his feet.

He asked Cookie if she'd like to accompany them.

She declined. Having the run of the Bel Air house all to herself was a far more tempting prospect.

Since moving on from Frankie, and hitting the street with a sexy new hairstyle, Cookie had discovered there were far more interesting prospects out there than a coked-out old loser like Frankie.

Cookie decided she wanted to be an actress, and enrolled in acting class.

Young, hot would-be actors were everywhere.

Soon Cookie was having herself a fine old time.

*   *   *

Dumped by a truculent, spoiled teenager, Frankie Romano drove back to L.A. determined not to sleep with any girl under twenty-one. He was part of the Hollywood club scene, for crissakes. Pussy abounded. He was a star in his own world.

His drug business was out of control. Supply could not keep up with demand. He'd partnered up with a young Colombian, Alejandro Diego, who had big family connections back in Colombia, and who assured him he could keep the supply coming. Now the money was really rolling in.

Frankie loved his life. He wouldn't have it any other way.

*   *   *

Max and Billy. Caught on camera for all to see. Cover of the tabloids along with
MURDER AT VEGAS HOTEL
—as most headlines screamed. Billy came across as the hero of everyone's dreams. This super-hot movie star had gotten his handsome face cut defending his young girlfriend. Although his PR team immediately denied that Max was his girlfriend—in spite of the intimate photos that appeared everywhere. According to his reps, she was merely a family friend he'd been protecting.

Billy was rushed to the emergency room, and the finest plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills was flown in to consult on his damaged face. The cut on his cheek turned out to be a surface wound, and within weeks Billy was back to his handsome self, a handsome self whose advisers (lawyers, PR people, the studio, etc.) had warned him to stay under the radar until his divorce from Venus was finalized, and not to see Max.

Reluctantly he'd agreed it was for the best. After all, he was getting a divorce from an icon, and already carrying on with a teenage girl was not the image his people wished him to project. “The public can turn on you like a dime,” they warned him. “Do not screw with a brilliant career. Not at this time.”

He spoke to Max on the phone and told her they should cool it for a few weeks. She wasn't heartbroken; too much was going on and she needed to get her head straight. She was a big girl now. Eighteen. And although Lucky had decided the right thing to do was cancel the Vegas party, she'd been okay with it. Especially when Lucky suggested that they take a family trip to the South of France instead.

Her mom had turned out to be way cooler than she'd ever thought. Lucky didn't berate her about Billy, she merely shrugged and said, “We can't help who we fall for. But maybe Billy wasn't the best choice.”

Max still thought about Billy.

She thought about Ace too.

Ace had left her such a thoughtful gift and a sad little note. She knew he had to have seen the photos of her and Billy, and it tore her up imagining his reaction.

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