Lucky Me (18 page)

My parents were standing in the hallway near the front door, talking to another police officer that was filling them in and most likely asking the same questions Milo had just asked me. Up ‘til now, it seemed that Ao Jie Kai was the prime suspect. But Milo looked like he had just found another one. Jack wasn't an idiot; obviously he had noticed the intense look Milo had been giving him. But thankfully he kept his mouth shut and pretended to be overly interested in a painting hanging in the living room.

“We'll send these to the lab,” Milo told me after a few, excruciatingly awkward minutes of silence. “Maybe we can find some fingerprints. But mostly it gives us a good indication of how far this guy is willing to go, and how high-tech.”

I nodded, even though I didn't really understand what he was talking about. If planting listening devices didn't already tell us Dr. D was a lunatic, then I don't know what would have. Milo's lips curved into a half smile and my heart did its break dancing thing for a few seconds, before he left the living room and walked toward my parents.

“He thinks I did it, doesn't he?” Jack asked, the moment Milo was out of earshot.

“Jack!” I exclaimed. “That's ridiculous. Of course he doesn't.”

“He gave me a look!”

“Don't be so dramatic. He didn't give you anything.”

Jack looked at me knowingly. “Gia.”

“Okay fine! He gave you a look.”

“What would you do if I actually had done it?” Jack asked, and I looked at him.

“What?” I replied. “Planted all these listening devices in my house for some psycho freak to listen in on everything that happens so that he can call me later on and freak the living daylights out of me?”

Jack thought about it for a few seconds. “Yeah, that seems about right.”

“I'd kick your ass.”

“I'd
love
to see you try that.”

Whatever sadness I had experienced five minutes ago had passed and I was actually really glad it was over. I mean, yeah that was a bit quick, but whatever. You can't dwell on the past. Now I could focus on the more important things in life, like my stalker, my schoolwork, and potential colleges. Oh, and my future life with Milo Fells, and naming our two children. I may even name one of them Stan, in honor of Brendan. Okay, that's a joke. I'm not naming my kid Stan.

“He can run all the background checks he wants on me,” Jack said, as we both watched closely as Milo and other officer talked to my dad. “But he's not going to find what he wants.”

I cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Well,” Jack replied, with a nonchalant shrug. “You dig deep enough you can find anything on anyone.”

“Even on you?”

Jack smiled, his gaze still on Milo. “Especially on me.”

Chapter Twelve

It was already past noon on Thursday, and I was still lying in bed, half asleep. Only two days had passed since the Brendan break-up and I was already contemplating making plans to go partying with another guy on Saturday night. Congratulations to me, I am a terrible person. A terrible person that would, however, still go party with another guy, despite accepting that it may be considered insensitive. Especially because it was the same night as said ex-boyfriend's farewell party. Look, he was running off to become a cowboy and leaving me behind with all my troubles. Brendan wasn't allowed to be offended.

In the meantime, I
needed
to get my act together and do something productive with my life, because lying in bed all day, eating junk and watching Netflix, was not a good use of my time. Mom had pointed out that strawberries did not count as a healthy snack if they were drenched in chocolate, but as long as there was fruit involved, I was making good life choices. If my borderline dangerous levels of fitness weren't bad enough, my extreme lack of motivation to catch-up on schoolwork was really becoming a problem. Staying at home and procrastinating had resulted in a pile of homework the size of the Empire State Building to mount on my desk, only nobody proposed or filmed romantic movie scenes at the top of it. Plus, Famous needed a bath, I was still not allowed past the mailbox and I was still being stalked. Good times all around.

What I really couldn't deal with was why Milo suspected Jack to be involved in the stalking. I even reasoned with myself that he didn't, and I had just taken his look the wrong way. I mean, people give each other looks all the time! That doesn't mean they always convey what they're meant to. His thoughtful nodding could have meant anything really. Like, maybe he liked Jack's outfit, or he was thinking about what to have for dinner. Maybe he was thinking about making Jack a groomsmen at our wedding. Who knows?

Either way, there was no way Jack planted those creepy listening devices, and there was even less chance of him actually being Dr. D himself. Absolutely no way in heck. Okay, maybe a slight way in heck. Maybe it was Chris. He barely spoke! He was always just present, but never really a participant. It made sense. Lurking in the background? Check. Thought I was attractive but never outright showed it? Check. Had full access to my house? Check. Those were all features of a potential undercover stalker. Then again, maybe it was Kenny. But being buff and scary looking wasn't a crime. Plus, anyone who gets teary when Oprah gives away a free car can't be evil. Oprah brings out the best in all of us.

The sound of my phone violently buzzing on my bedside table broke into my sleepy thoughts, and I clumsily reached for it with a groan. Without opening an eyelid, I answered the call, sliding the screen like a pro.

“Hello?” I said groggily, my voice partially muffled by my pillows.

“You missed one.”

My eyelids fluttered open as I propped myself up onto my elbows, squinting at my phone screen. It read
No Caller ID.

“Hello?” I repeated.

“I must say,” came the deep robotic voice. “The police did a good job of finding the rest. But they missed the most important one.”

Oh crap. I shot up to a sitting position and did some heavy breathing. Evidently, as if he wasn't scary enough, Dr. D had decided to trade his auto-tune for some good, old-fashioned Darth Vader. Where the heck was Jack when I needed him? He was always around when it was inconvenient, but the moment I actually needed his assistance he wasn't there. I bit my lip, evaluating my next step. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was Matt Damon. Although, why Matt Damon would be calling in a creepy edited voice, talking about the police, is questionable.

I sucked in some air and put the phone back to my ear. “You're talking about the bugs, right?” I said.

“Of course.”

“How'd you get in the house anyway?” I said, hugging my knees to my chest. “There's no way you would have gotten in without being seen.”

There was a low rumble on the other end, and I figured he must have been chuckling. “What if it wasn't me?” Dr. D asked.

“Ao Jie Kai then,” I said, trying to stop my voice from shaking. “Or someone who works for you. If you tell me how then I promise I won't go to the cops.”

Okay, that was such a pathetic lie and we both knew it. But the way I saw it, there was only one of these mystery bugs left in the house. Wherever it was, chances are it wouldn't have picked up on Milo putting a bug into my phone. What Dr. D didn't know wouldn't kill him, but it would get him arrested. According to the police officers and pretty much every crime-related movie or TV show I've ever seen, sixty seconds is enough time to trace the call. After that its bam! Bye-bye mister creepo forever. I felt like my heart was going to collapse from the nerves, but I trusted that someone at the police station, hopefully Milo, had my back.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds as Dr. D considered my deal. “I like you Gia,” he finally said. “You've got an attitude that I admire. You're brave, which is a quality I never saw in your father. You two differ there. And just for that, I'm going to tell you.”

“Um, thank you?”

It was a bit of a backhanded compliment, but I took it. No need to get into the semantics of it all. It had only been just over thirty seconds. I needed him to stay on for at least thirty more, but he suddenly seemed eager to answer all my questions.

“A month ago your father called a professional cleaning service to steam clean your carpets and clean the drapes and what not,” Dr. D explained. “One of those cleaners was working for me and planted the bugs around your house.”

I stared at my feet, processing this information. I could barely understand the man through all of that voice editing, but I had managed to get what was important. Whoever this maniac was, he was good. He had to have been watching my family even before the cleaners were called, or else he'd never have been able to plant his person in the right position to do the job.

“Just one of the workers?” I reconfirmed. I considered taking notes; all of that information would probably come in handy later.

“Do you enjoy it, Gia?” Dr. D said, ignoring my question.

My eyebrows furrowed together. I couldn't keep up with the constantly changing nature of our conversations. “Do I enjoy what?”

“Getting everything you want?”

It had to have been a minute now, but something didn't seem right. Dr. D was obviously much smarter than I had first anticipated. If he was bold enough to put listening devices all over my house, then there was no way it wouldn't have crossed his mind that the police would have done the same to him. But he didn't seem bothered by it at all.

“I don't—” I began, but was cut off immediately.

“You truly are your father's daughter.”

“Okay, but—”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Dr. D said, as I climbed out of bed. The deep, robotic voice was a million times scarier than the auto tune, and I was having a tough time coping. “In the meantime, stop looking for me. You're going to get hurt. I'm trying to help you.”

Oh gee, that was great coming from the insane guy who was preying on me like he was a hunter and I was a deer. It was all well and good to keep warning me, but at the end of the day he was still going to stick a spear in my butt and steal my antlers, no matter how fast I ran.

“Wait, bu—”

“Until next time,” Dr. D said, cutting me off. “Goodbye Miss Winters. And goodbye to you too, Officer Fells.”

__________

Milo had called seconds after my shaky call with Dr. D had ended. The good news was the call was long enough to trace the location, but the bad news was the location was a pay phone in downtown Beverly Hills, so anyone could have been the caller. The police were using security cameras to try and identify a face, while still trying to figure out how he could have edited his voice using a public phone, but that was the last thing I was worried about.

After yelling at Jack for a good twenty minutes about why he was showering when I needed him most, I had a grim realization that Dr. D really did know the police would be listening, but he was still giving away his trade secrets. Either he was the world's stupidest stalker, or he was ten times more dangerous than anyone had first thought. Addressing Milo straight on before hanging up was a pretty clear indication that this lunatic knew exactly what he was doing, and had his twisted little plan all worked out. I had been tempted to add that Milo was in fact not an officer yet, but actually just a cadet. But Dr. D had hung up before I got the chance. Plus I don't think he would have cared. I think he just knew I had a massive crush on the guy, which was super awkward, because now even my stalker knew I wanted to date Milo real bad. Of course, Dad hadn't been too thrilled about the latest phone call, and kept yelling on the phone to some person from the cleaning company, demanding to know how they had hired someone who was obviously a creep. Kenny had to keep reminding him that it was the police's job to figure those details out, and to keep relaxed. Mom just drank a lot of wine.

I spent the afternoon searching every inch of my room and the house, together with Anya, Jack, Mike and Chris, with no luck in finding where the last bug was hidden. Dad went out for frozen yogurt and kept mumbling something about keeping me in the house forever, and Mom relieved her stress by shopping for new sunglasses. I followed her footsteps and took a break from the detective work, turning to retail therapy for some solace. I didn't exactly have the same freedom of movement as my mother, however, so all my stress had to be relieved via the Internet. Jack had been kind enough to voice his unwanted thoughts on how shopping online for YSL bags wasn't really going to solve any of my problems. But he had also once described Judge Judy as a “national treasure,” so I wasn't really inclined to take his opinions seriously.

It was almost dinnertime when Jack and I slumped back to my room, defeated by our loss against the missing listening device. I had barely touched the silky bed sheets when my phone went off, sending my heart into a panic all over again. By now, I was
way
beyond ready to throw the stupid thing in the garbage.

“Well aren't you going to answer it?” Jack asked, standing alert by my side.

I glanced at the screen and flinched.
No Caller ID.

“No, I'm good,” I told him. “It'll stop ringing eventually.”

Jack sat on the bed opposite me. “Gia,” he said softly. “Just answer it. I'm right here.”

I sighed deeply, dreading what was coming next. Now what? Dr. D had forgotten to tell me he had kidnapped Famous and wanted ten million dollars ransom? Just to be sure, I whirled around, watching Famous lie asleep beside Jack on my bed. Nope, still there.

“Hello?” I said cautiously, as if I was trying to walk through a basketball game without getting hit in the face.

“Hi, is this Gia Winters?” I heard a woman's voice reply.

What, was this some new approach to stalking me? Mrs. Dr. D?

“Yes?” I told her, looking at Jack. He mouthed
stalker
?
I gave him a palms up to let him know I was just as curious.

“Miss Winters, my name is Carol Beaufort. I'm calling from the Hollywood Foreign Press Association. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“Oh. Look, if this is a survey for the Golden Globes, I think George Clooney should win everything. Honestly, the man is a legend.”

“Uh,” Carol replied, sounding a little surprised. “Not quite. Miss Winters, are you aware of the concept of Miss Golden Globe?”

My jaw dropped. Of course! With all the drama around Milo's perfect dimples and Dr. D trying to kill me, I had completely forgotten about the Golden Globes!

“Oh my God,” I said. I stood up, excitement rising in my voice. “Oh my God! Yes! Yes, I know all about it.”

Jack, who was looking super bored now that he knew I wasn't being called by a psycho freak, had turned the TV to mute. He didn't really need the sound to ogle Jessica Alba.

“As I'm sure you're aware,” Carol continued, her voice as formal as ever. “The title was originally given to someone else. But an issue arose recently that may take months to overcome.”

“How many months?”

“About eight and a half.”

Oh snap. Ain't no party like a Hollywood pregnancy scandal.

“Okay,” I said, pacing beside my bed expectantly. “So why are you calling me?”

Carol sighed, as if she were dealing with someone who didn't understand English. Clearly she wasn't as excited about this as I was.

“We'd like to offer you the role,” she said.

“Excuse me a second,” I said, muting the phone. “OH MY GOD, YES! YES! YES! YES!”

“What?” Jack said, looking at me in alarm. “What happened?”

“Shh!” I hissed, and Jack rolled his eyes. “I'm on the phone.”

“Hello?” Carol's voice said, and I unmuted the call.

“Yes! I'm still here!” I said, a little breathless from my aggressive fist pumping. “Okay, so say for example Leonardo DiCaprio wins an award, which he totally should by the way, he's amazing. Let's say he wins an award. I'm supposed to give it to him?”

“You hold the award and give it to the
presenter
, who gives it to him. Then you usher him off stage.” Carol explained, as though she were conversing with a five-year-old.

“Oh my gosh, that's so cool!”

“Look Gia,” Carol said in a strained voice, dropping the formal tone she had been using before. “We're getting desperate here. Everyone we choose is either a step away from giving birth, changing gender, or locked away in rehab. This whole thing has been a disaster ever since we had to push the date back to the twentieth of April. You're really our last hope.”