Hollywood Sinners (19 page)

CHAPTER FORTY

Belleville, Ohio, 1999

‘W
e’ve got to go to the police.’

Robbie was slumped against the door to the trailer, his head in his hands.

‘No.’ Laura shook her head fiercely. ‘No cops, no way.’ Indecision was a luxury they could not afford—there would be time for weakness later. For now they had to think straight, and if there was one thing she was certain of, it was this: Lester Fallon had taken enough of her life already, there was no way she was giving him more.

‘Laura, I killed him.’ Robbie shook his head. ‘Do you hear me? I
killed
him.’

Laura thought she was going to be sick. ‘It was self-defence,’ she said at last, her voice cold. ‘He was trying to rape me.’

They had no idea how much time had passed since the fatal blow. It felt like hours. The smashed bottle lay on its side at her brother’s feet, staring back at them, accusing. The words ‘murder instrument’ looped in Laura’s mind.

‘I need some air,’ she said. ‘We have to get our heads together, come up with a plan.’

Robbie looked up at her. ‘No police?’

She shook her head. ‘No police.’

He closed his eyes. ‘OK.’

Outside they sat next to each other, not speaking. It was dark and late and there was no one around. Robbie took Laura’s hand in his and held it.

This was the only boy she had ever loved. It was her fault they were in this mess and there was no way she was letting him take the rap for it. He had a bright future and he’d give that up over her dead body. Not Lester’s.

Eventually she turned to him. ‘It’s our only chance.’

‘What?’

‘My brother keeps a can of gasoline out back.’

Robbie held his hands up, as if he could repel the force of her suggestion. ‘Laura, no.’

‘Just think about it a second—’

‘No.’

She touched his face. ‘Don’t you get it? My brother’s so drunk most of the time he doesn’t even know who he is. He could burn this place down all by himself. Nobody around here would ever know…Robbie, they’d
expect
it.’

She paused. ‘Do you hear what I’m saying? We have to destroy the evidence, all of it—it’s the only way.’

Robbie shook his head, but she could see him flipping it over, feeling its edges, trying it out.

‘We can’t.’ His eyes were black, serious. ‘What about the future? What about Vegas? How could we ever live with ourselves—?’

Laura kissed him. He kissed her back and for seconds they forgot. Tonight wasn’t happening; it was just a terrible dream from which they would soon wake up.

‘We
will
live, Robbie. And this is how. I’m not letting him ruin the rest of my life. I’m not letting him ruin us.’ Her voice cracked. ‘I’m not.’

He kissed her again. ‘I’d do anything for you,’ he said, and she believed him. ‘But I know you and I know how you think. I can’t walk into this now if it means you realising in a year’s time that we made a mistake—’

‘That won’t happen.’

‘It might.’

‘It won’t.’

He shook his head and laughed emptily. ‘You can’t be sure of that.’ He held her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. ‘We go to the police—’ When she opened her mouth to object, he put a finger to her lips. ‘We go to the police and explain what happened. It was self-defence, just like you said. We’ve done nothing wrong.’ He swallowed, turned away. ‘You haven’t, at least.’

Laura shrugged him off and got to her feet. He would never convince her, however hard he tried. She knew he would carry the weight of the punishment and if there was anything in her power that could stop that happening, she would do it.

He followed her round the back of the trailer, watched in silence as she rummaged in a heap of cans.

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘It’s not the right decision. You can’t see it now, but I promise you, it’s a mistake.’

‘Forget promises, Robbie.’ She found what she was looking for, freed it with a violent tug and unscrewed the cap. A sweet, stinging smell rose up from the neck. ‘You promised me we’d get away from here, you promised me that, too, remember?’ Fighting tears of panic, she wiped a sleeve across her nose. It left a sooty black mark. ‘I’m not letting you go down. This is our only way out and I’m taking it. For once, I’m fighting back. Just tell me: tell me you trust me.’

His answer came straight away. ‘I trust you.’

Laura took a deep breath, bolstered by his confidence even though she knew he would have played it differently. ‘You don’t have to be a part of it,’ she said.

He reached for a pack of matches on a decrepit ladder of wooden shelves behind her.

‘I am a part of it.’

When she took them from him, they both knew there was no going back.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

C
ole Steel’s Gulfstream private jet soared high above the clouds, its sleek white body glinting against a flesh-pink sunset. Vegas was less than an hour away.

‘Have a drink, it might cheer you up,’ said Cole. Lana stayed quiet.

Cole knew he had to draw his wife back to him, as one might a mistrustful pet, if they were going to convince waiting paparazzi that the marriage was rock-solid. The way Lana was acting, it was as if she were being taken to the gallows.

He leaned over. ‘What’s up with you?’ he asked through gritted teeth. Still she didn’t say anything, just kept staring out the window. ‘Christ!’ he spat, losing his temper. This was a complication he could do well without. He turned back and flipped open a magazine with force.

The jet, one of four in Cole’s fleet, was palatial. Its interior was a fine palette of neutral creams complete with gilt finishes, and on each leather seatback the letters
CS
were embroidered in gold. Crystal lamps adorned the cabin, a fusion of modern and classic, and a bar at one end stocked a wealth of refreshments.

Lana stayed where she was. She could not look at her husband, could not bear to look inside the cabin even, too stark a reminder it was of where she was going. Instead she preferred the view outside, the uncomplicated spread of the sky.

Cole got up and stormed to the bathroom, muttering something on his way past. Lana watched him go, a tide of nausea washing over her as nerves tightened their hold.

Robbie Lewis was down there somewhere. He was close.

The past threatened to overwhelm her; that last part that hurt her heart the most and left her awake at night, wrung out with guilt. She battled it with all her strength.

Cole resumed his seat and began tapping furiously on his laptop. Lana glanced across at him with a stab of pity. She could not love him, not ever. Thank God the end was within reach: in two years their marriage would be over and she would be free to love whomever she chose.

Closing her eyes, she imagined what Robbie might say if she told him this, if she dared to confess that she still had feelings for him. Would he laugh at her? No. Would he be mad? Maybe. Was it possible, even the tiniest possibility, that he felt the same?

Hope blossomed, just a vulnerable shoot but hope all the same. Yes, it was possible. There was still a chance; they could still have a future. It didn’t have to be over.

‘On second thoughts, I will have that drink,’ she told Cole. He looked up and smiled at her, relief softening his features. He summoned his attendant. ‘Make it strong,’ she added.

There was no other way. She would go to Robbie tonight, talk to him alone and tell him how she felt. That as soon as the contract with Cole was up, she wanted to be with him. That she was sorry for the heartache and for all she had put him through, but that she could never know peace with another person in the way she knew it with him. They would confess to everything if they had to.

Lana watched the blazing sun dipping below the horizon, a purple glow cast in its wake.

Suddenly the world had changed. There was hope, at last.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Belleville, Ohio, 1999

A
fterwards they went to the police, their story ironed dead straight. Laura didn’t need to fake her tears—they were real enough—neither did Robbie his part as the concerned boyfriend.

They told their account of that night countless times over the next days, weeks—time lost its meaning. They’d been in the park, had seen smoke billowing into the sky and heard the shouts and cries for help. Running to its source they’d got closer, ever closer to her brother’s trailer until they were right on it. The scene had been worse than they could have imagined—the magnitude of the blast, the reach of the inferno and the panicked screams of the gathered crowd. Flames spat and hissed into the night, thrashing the trailer to pieces, scorching everything inside. Anyone unlucky enough to be in there wouldn’t have stood a chance.

As Laura had predicted, once the drama of the fire blew over nobody paid much attention to the loss of Lester Fallon. It was no great surprise that the loner drunk had finally been dumb enough to set fire to his own home—they just thanked God he hadn’t taken his little sister with him. As a result the inquiry was faint-hearted, it was as good as a closed case. The community was a better place without Fallon—the bum had got what was coming to him. It turned out the police had taken him in on several occasions previously, mostly on alcohol-related counts, and knew he was a vicious, unpleasant piece of work.

A social worker came to visit the week after Lester died, and it was decided that Robbie and his family would look after Laura until she came of age. But they had to get out of Belleville. The compulsion to start afresh was greater than ever.

Two months later Laura and Robbie left for Columbus, where within weeks Robbie began working at an accountancy firm while studying for his business course in the evenings. They moved into a tiny one-room apartment and Laura took a job waiting tables in Harry’s Burgers. While it wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs, it was a start.

One busy afternoon a young man came into Harry’s, ordered a double cheeseburger, introduced himself as a talent scout and asked Laura if she’d ever considered acting. She wasn’t tall enough to model but she had a classic beauty that would look great on screen. It wasn’t the first time a customer had commented on her looks, so she didn’t think much of it. When she told Robbie that evening she expected him to find it funny, but instead he encouraged her.

‘Why not?’ he asked, looking up from his papers. ‘You’ve got nothing to lose.’

‘An actress?’ She laughed. ‘Come on, Robbie, get real.’

He shrugged. ‘You can do anything you want. You’re certainly not flipping burgers the rest of your life.’

Laura had kept the man’s card, but didn’t feel ready to pursue it just yet. With the crime they had run from, it hadn’t occurred to her to dream of a future much beyond the next couple of weeks. The fear was still there that if she pushed her luck even a fraction too far, it would all come crashing down.

They never spoke about that night. She had sworn to Robbie that she wouldn’t let it affect them—no regrets—and that meant burying it deep. What she wanted to do was thank him for saving her life. She might not have died at Lester’s hands on the trailer floor, but he would have killed a part of her she could never get back.

For the first six months things were good. They were happy, in love and the future was there for the taking. Robbie was excelling in his course and was already in touch with his father about the move to Vegas.

But not long after, things started to change. The rot set in. For Laura, it began with the nightmares: her brother pinning her down; pushing his way inside; attacking her body. The look on his face when the deadly blow had struck, the gash on his skull that ran so deep. But worse, the way she had so ruthlessly destroyed the evidence, dousing the place in gasoline and lighting the match. It wasn’t what Robbie had wanted: he’d wanted to do the honest thing. She was the poison, damaging everything and everyone she touched, ruining it, killing it. It was only a matter of time before the same happened to him.

She found she was unable to explain these horrors to Robbie, the dark images that flashed across her mind in the dead of night in that lonely, terrible way. The only certainty was that if she stayed with Robbie, she would endanger him.

Robbie tried everything, desperate to find a way to reach across that space and comfort her. His worst fears had come true: guilt was a persistent beast, and it refused to relinquish the woman he loved. There was nothing he could do. When he reached for her body, she pulled away. When he told her he loved her, she pretended not to hear. There had always been fight in him, but he didn’t know if he could fight for both of them.

Close to a year after they had first arrived in Columbus, Robbie awoke on a grey, still morning to find she was gone.

She hadn’t even taken her belongings—just, he figured out, a small leather bag with a handful of possessions thrown in.

There was a note. Some crap about sparing him; some meaningless martyr bullshit.

For weeks he was angry. He half expected her to come back, say their love was worth more than this and that they’d try to make it work. When she didn’t he called her again and again, left countless messages, all saying things he didn’t really mean and not one that said what he really meant. No reply. He guessed she’d changed her number. He tried a couple of leads, sat in Harry’s for days on end, hoping for a clue—maybe she’d mentioned something to someone, anyone. Nothing. She had gone, vanished like a ghost into the night.

He drank for a while. Slept with women without knowing their names. Every morning he woke and looked in the mirror, hating what he saw.

Murderer.

Dark shadows round his eyes. Black stubble he couldn’t be bothered to shave. But most of all the intense sadness that clung to his shoulders like fog.

He scraped a pass on his course, though Christ knew how.

Then in the New Year he called his father.

‘I’m coming to town,’ he declared. ‘I need to start over. Vegas is it.’