Drop Dead Beautiful (50 page)

“I had to throw people out to accommodate you,” she complained. “You’re a pain in the ass, Anthony.”

“You have no idea,” he responded.

Yes I do
, she wanted to say. But she kept her silence because she knew it would be foolish to speak her mind. Instead she went back to her house on the hotel grounds and bitched to Susie about Anthony’s arrival.

“Why is he here?” Susie was curious to know.

“I presume to spend leisure time with his grandmother,” Renee said, not revealing the true purpose of Anthony’s visit. The less Susie knew, the better. Susie would not understand why certain things had to be done, and if she ever found out she’d try to put a stop to it. Susie did not approve of anything illegal. To say she was naive was an understatement—she honestly believed that Tasmin had disappeared all on her own and that Anthony had nothing to do with it, although she still asked the occasional question.

“Anthony has a grandmother that he actually takes around with him?” Susie asked, her eyes widening.

“He’s very Italian when it comes to family,” Renee explained. “His wife is with him too.”

“Anthony has a wife?”

“Yes, Susie. He has a wife
and
a grandmother. He didn’t just crawl out of a hole in the ground.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Here’s the kicker,” Renee said. “His bimbo mistress is also along for the ride.”

“Oh my goodness,” Susie exclaimed. “How does
that
work? Do you think they’re having a threesome?”

“Hardly,” Renee said. “The wife looks shell-shocked while the mistress is all perky and ready to party.”

“Not with you, I hope,” Susie said, her jealous streak surfacing at the slightest provocation.

“Of course not with me,” Renee assured her insecure partner.

God! If Susie ever found out she’d once slept with Anthony, her life wouldn’t be worth living.

“You know,” Susie said thoughtfully, “I’ve been thinking about it, and although I know you’re unsure, the Keys opening next door to us is a bonus.”

“Excuse me?” Renee said. “Why do you think that?”

“I know you imagine it’ll take business away from us,” Susie said. “But you’re wrong. The Keys being so near to us will enhance our hotel. You’ll see. It’s all about synergy. We’re the two classiest hotels on the Strip, and it’ll all work out. I’m happy they’re opening, and I also think Lucky can be a good friend to us.”

Susie was right. Susie was always right.

Renee’s mind began ticking. Yes, now she was sure she had to get Anthony Bonar out of their lives once and for all.

Irma was in turmoil. How was she supposed to make sense of the situation she found herself in? It was all so unbelievably horrifying.

Her husband was a cruel and repugnant man, a vindictive inhuman monster. The very thought of what he’d done to Luis would haunt her forever, and worst of all,
she
was responsible, for it was she who’d lured Luis into her bedroom the first time, and if she hadn’t done so, none of this would have happened.

Yes, the sad truth was that she was to blame.

Now she was trapped with Anthony, who’d informed her that she was not allowed to speak to anyone or go anywhere without his permission. “You’re gonna do exactly what I say,” he’d told her. “An’ doncha open your fuckin’ mouth to anyone, or your parents gonna feel the heat. Understand what I’m sayin’?”

Yes, she understood, and she had no doubt his threats were authentic. After the things she’d witnessed she was genuinely frightened. Anthony was not a bluffer—her psychotic husband was capable of anything. He’d proved that.

“Tonight we’re goin’ to a party, so go buy a dress an’ be prepared t’look like you’re enjoyin’ yourself,” Anthony announced, strolling into the bedroom where he’d made sure she was a prisoner. He’d instructed The Grill to remove the phones and make certain any doors leading outside were locked. There was no escape.

“How can I go shopping?” she cried out. “After everything you’ve done, how can you expect me to do that?”

“Who gives a shit?” he snarled. “‘S long as you’re ready at six. Buy a decent dress, an’ wear your new earrings.”

She was forced to visit the shopping mall with The Grill, who stood guard outside a fitting room while she reluctantly chose a plain black dress to wear.

It was all so surreal. Here she was in Las Vegas buying a dress, while back in Mexico City her lover had no doubt bled to death.

Poor Luis. Poor dear, sweet Luis. She remembered his gentle touch and suddenly she was overcome with grief. She sank to the floor of the fitting room and began quietly weeping.

After a while she pulled herself together. Above all else, Anthony had to be punished for his sins.

There must be a way, and she was determined to find it.
After arranging invitations to the opening reception at the Keys, Anthony had gone ahead and bought tickets for the concert event, although he wasn’t sure if he’d stay around that long. Emmanuelle had informed him she was desperate to see Venus perform. Little did she know that there would be a lot more to observe than an aging blond singer, although the real action would take place to coincide with the fireworks display.

He decided to stay long enough to watch the fun begin, then he’d gather his entourage and get the hell out. A timely exit was one of the advantages of having his own plane.

According to Renee, everything was in place, and by God, she’d better be right. He was expecting results. They were spending a million bucks to make sure the Keys burned to the ground. Tucker Bond was expensive, but according to his reputation he never failed.

Destroying the Keys and making Grandma happy was worth every dollar. Anthony did not regret one red cent.

Not that he planned on paying Renee back—it was
her
responsibility. She could whistle for him to come up with his half.

Emmanuelle danced happily around the bungalow, quite taken with the Elton John-style white piano, indoor Jacuzzi, and luxury furnishings. Boarding the plane in Miami, she’d been startled to notice Anthony’s wife huddled in one of the seats. “What’s
she
doing here?” she’d whispered to Anthony, thinking that if he planned on a cozy threesome, she was a definite no.

“Take no notice of Irma,” Anthony had said. “We got an understanding. Ignore her.”

So Emmanuelle had done exactly that, playing up to Anthony’s grandmother, who was quite a colorful character with her nonstop smoking, incessant coffee drinking, and raspy voice.

As soon as Francesca spotted Emmanuelle, she’d taken Anthony to one side. “Why you do this?” she’d demanded, spoiling for an argument. “Why both women here?”

“One’s my wife, one’s my mistress,” Anthony had explained. “That’s the Italian way, right, Grandma?”

“You leave those two together, they’ll tear each other to pieces,” Francesca had muttered.

“I promise you Irma’s gonna do nothin’. She knows t’keep her mouth shut an’ stay in her place.”

“You and Irma fighting?” Francesca demanded, narrowing her eyes.

“No fight.”

“You bloody sure, Anthony?”

“Would I lie to you?”

Detective Franklin had cultivated quite a few spies at the Cavendish, and it wasn’t long before one of them reported that Anthony Bonar was back in town. This was the news she’d been waiting for. She got in her car and drove straight to the hotel.

For the past few days she’d been contemplating a trip to Miami, where it seemed Anthony Bonar spent most of his time. Now that he was actually back in Vegas he’d saved her the trouble. She had more than a strong hunch that Anthony Bonar knew a lot more about Tasmin’s disappearance than he was saying. And Detective Franklin was famous around the department for hunches that usually paid off.

She’d checked Anthony Bonar out. He’d been arrested once many years ago when he was a teenager on a possession-of-drugs charge. A lawyer had sprung him within twenty-four hours, and he’d managed to stay out of jail ever since, although he’d certainly been investigated many times. He was known to be involved in major drug trade activities, but the FBI had never been able to find enough evidence to put him away.

“I’m here to see Mr. Bonar,” she informed the desk clerk at reception.

“Do you have an appointment?” the clerk asked.

“No, I do not,” Diane Franklin said, flashing her badge. “But somehow I imagine this is appointment enough.”

“I’ll let him know you’re on your way.”

Tucker Bond worked with two assistants, both female, both adept at whatever job he assigned them. He’d found that women were easier to control than men, and attractive women blended in. They were also a great deal more trustworthy and loyal.

These two had worked for him for more than ten years. They did whatever he told them to do, and no arguments. On this job he was paying them a hundred grand each. Not bad for a few hours’ work.

Not bad at all.

“Fuck!” Anthony steamed. The last thing he needed was a small-town detective questioning him about Tasmin Garland. He’d answered a shitload of questions over the phone, so what was this about, and why hadn’t Renee warned him?

Bitch! They were all bitches. Especially his cheating whore wife, whose fate he had all planned. Watching her boyfriend lose his manhood in front of her was not punishment enough. Oh no. He had more delights in store for her.

Tonight she’d be humiliated.

Tomorrow she’d be shipped off to Bolivia where he’d made arrangements for her to be placed in a facility that craved blond American whores. She’d asked for it. Any woman who screwed another man in the marital bed was asking for it.

If Irma wanted to fuck around, who was he to stop her?

Detective Franklin was full of more dumb questions. Anthony resented her intrusion into his life. Bad enough he had to deal with a detective, but a black female one at that. Shit! What was the fuckin’ world coming to?

He answered her questions fast and hustled her out in record time.

The bitch would never get anything on
him
.

Chapter 81

The opening of the Keys was a much coveted event. Celebrities were jetting in from all over the world, delighted that they’d been invited. Lucky Santangelo and Lennie Golden were a power couple with friends across the globe, and everyone wanted to be there to help them celebrate.

The world press were also assembling. Journalists, camera crews, photographers.
ET, Access Hollywood, Extra, E! News
—they were all there to cover the event.

Security was a top priority—every member of the press had to display a laminated name tag and a red-carpet pass.

Henry Whitfield-Simmons had acquired both. With money, anything was possible.

Detective Franklin returned to the precinct more convinced than ever that Anthony Bonar had something to do with Tasmin’s disappearance. Now that she’d actually met the man face-to-face he struck her as a lying scumbag in an expensive suit. She’d come across his type before. Anthony Bonar was the kind of man who imagined money could buy him anything and anybody. He was involved with Tasmin’s disappearance, she would bet her life on it. And as for Renee Falcon, she knew a lot more than she was saying, that was for sure. Her girlfriend had given her away. Her girlfriend had more or less accused Anthony of having something to do with Tasmin’s disappearance.

The way Diane Franklin saw it, Renee had fixed Anthony Bonar up on a date with Tasmin and something had gone horribly wrong.

But what? That was the big question.

“What do you think?” Lucky asked, emerging from her dressing room in a floor-length scarlet Versace backless gown, Jimmy Choo stilettos, diamond earrings, and Neil Lane black-and-white Art Deco diamond bracelets decorating both wrists.

Lennie whistled as he checked out his wife. “I swear I’ve never seen you look so staggeringly beautiful,” he exclaimed. “You’re incredible.”

“I mean what do you think of my dress?” she said modestly.

“It’s not the dress I’m concerned with, it’s the body underneath.”

“Lennie!” she said, smiling. “Be serious.”

“The dress is a smash.”

“Not too revealing?” she asked, twirling for him.

“If I had my way you’d be hidden under a burka. I don’t enjoy other men ogling my woman.”

“I’m your woman, am I?” she teased.

“Now and forever.”

“Good, ’cause that’s the way I like it.”

“Can I fix you a drink?” he asked.

“How about a martini?” she said, walking out onto the spacious terrace overlooking the sparkling lights of the city.

“Coming right up.”

As she stood gazing out at the spectacular view, her thoughts drifted back to the opening of the Magiriano, her first Vegas hotel. This time it was better, because this time she had Lennie and her family beside her.

It was exciting. More exciting than owning and running a major movie studio. More exciting than all the other businesses she’d been involved with.

Yes. The Keys was her ultimate prize.

She often wondered why she felt such close ties to Vegas, although deep down she knew why. It was the place it had all begun for her when she’d taken over from Gino and finished building the Magiriano. It was the place where she’d become a woman of substance, a woman capable of doing anything.