The Prada Paradox (14 page)

“Shehas thought about it,” Andy says. “You’re the one not thinking.” Blake glares at him, but Andy doesn’t slow down. “She draws someone else in, she’s breaking the rules. She’s risking her life, my life. And most of all, she’s risking the life of the person she brings in. How do you think she’ll feel when your body is on a slab at the morgue?”

“You son of a bitch,” Blake says.

Andy holds his hands up in a gesture of self-defense. “Hey, I’m just telling it like it is. You tell me. Do you really want that on your head?”

I know Blake well enough to see that he’s torn. His protective instincts have kicked in. But in this case, I already have a protector. And as much as I’d like to have two, I know what I have to do.

“Blake,” I say, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “You need to go.”

“Devi, this isn’t a game. I can help you. I can—”

“Itis a game,” I say. “And if I break the rules, you’re going to be the one who gets killed.” I meet his eyes, hoping he can read the emotion there. “I lost you once. I don’t think I could stand losing you forever.”

He hesitates, but I know I have him. “You’re sure?”

I’m not. But at the same time, I am. So I nod. “I’m sure.”

“Okay, then.” I watch as his chest rises and falls. Then he takes me by the shoulders and bends a bit so that he’s looking straight into my eyes. “But if you don’t show up on the set tomorrow, I’m calling the cops. Hell, I’m calling the FBI. I don’t care about me, but I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you alive. Got it?”

I shiver a bit, feeling all warm and tingly from his attention. “Yeah,” I say. “I got it.”

Chapter19

“I’m sorry,” Andy says, as we watch the video monitor. Blake’s car disappears down the drive and through the security gate, and then he’s gone. I feel a pain in my gut as intense as if someone had stabbed me.

“It’s not your fault. And you’re right. He needed to go. It’s the only way to make sure he’s safe.”

“And now we can concentrate on you. On finding the antidote, and on winning the game.”

“Yes,” I say. “Let’s do that.” Before Blake left, we showed Andy both my clue and the message about the toxin. He took it all in, promising that we were going to play the game like pros…and we were going to win.

What can I say? That plan works just fine for me.

Since I’m feeling a little self-conscious in my robe, I tell him that my laptop’s in the living room, but that he can move it to the kitchen. Then I run upstairs and change into real clothes.

When I come back, I find him at my huge oak table. It’s antique and well-worn. It used to belong to my grandmother, and then my mother. My mom passed it off to me when she downsized and moved to Florida. Sitting there gives me strength, as if I know the women in my family are watching out for me. That’s a good thing. Especially since at the moment, I need all the help I can get.

Andy is holding the clue in one hand and a pencil in the other. I peer over his shoulder at it before circling around to a chair. I’m disappointed to see that the inscrutable words are still there, despite all my wishes that I’d been wrong and the words had magically shifted into an advertisement for household cleaning products.

“I don’t have any idea what it means,” I say. “How about you?” I know he’s good at puzzles. Hopefully, he’s good at riddles, too.

“Nothing yet,” he admits. “Let’s see if we can’t figure it out together.”

He shifts his chair closer to mine, then puts the clue down on the table between us. We both huddle over it, trying to figure out what the words mean.

PLAY OR DIE

My daughter, my sister, and a crazy old man.

The clue’s where he lost it and Jack found it again.

But where to look to find the key?

A house not a home, though used for a fee.

A reflection of grandeur, of good times once seen,

And many have seen her upon the grand screen.

Play or don’t play—it’s all up to you.

But if you decline, Death will Become You.

I read it once to myself, then out loud, hoping that inspiration will strike. It’s been about a half hour since I first saw the damn thing, and let me just say that in that interim period the synapses haven’t fired any more. In other words, I’m still clueless.

Frustrated, I get up and start to putter in my kitchen. Blake left the strawberry box on the counter, and I move to trash it.

“Teeth all clean now?”

For a second, I’m confused. Then I remember the conversation earlier today. I smile brightly, certain my teeth are clean and shiny. “All good,” I say. “But that’s mostly because I didn’t eat the thing. Blake snagged it before I got the chance,” I add, keeping up the faux chocolate-lust.

Andy chuckles—one of those awkward laughs—and I can tell he’s not certain if I’m really pissed at Blake for eating my present. I take pity on him by patting my ass. “No big deal. I watch calories pretty strictly when I’m shooting.”

“Not that you need to,” he says, and I have to smile. Andy’s a little geeky with his out-of-control hair and his crooked wire-rim glasses, but I really do like the guy.

I shake off the warm fuzzies because now really isn’t the time, then indicate the clue. “So where are we?”

“Well, ‘Play or Die’ is pretty clear.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’d say so.” I grab two Diet Cokes—I’ll own up to my nutritionist if I’m still alive at our next appointment—then sit at the table beside him. “But what about the first line? ‘My daughter, my sister, and a crazy old man.’ That sounds familiar, but I’m not placing it.”

“It’s a good sign that it sounds familiar to you, though,” he says. “The clues are always geared toward the target’s interests. We just need to find that kernel of familiarity in the clue that will unlock your understanding.”

“Right,” I say. “You make it sound so easy.”

He reaches out to give my hand a firm squeeze. “We’ll be fine. I know the game. You know the clues. Together, we’re going to get through this.”

As pep talks go, I have to admit that one’s pretty good.

“Let’s move on to Jack.” Andy asks, “Do you know a Jack?”

I think back, trying to think of all my personal and professional contacts. “I met Jack Black at a party about eight months ago. And my CPA’s son is named Jack.”

“Him?”

“He’s three,” I say. “Somehow that doesn’t feel right.”

“No,” Andy agrees, “it doesn’t. The Hollywood connection, though.That makes a lot of sense.”

“Jack Black?” I say.

He shakes his head. “Not if you just met him at a party. But I really think movies are our best bet. Considering who you are, it just makes sense.”

I sigh and resist the urge to bang my forehead against the table. He has a point, but we still haven’t solved anything definitively. So the announcement that my celebrity is somehow the key to the riddle isn’t exactly grounds for celebration. The only good thing, actually, is that I’m not scared—not at the moment, anyway. Instead, I’m frustrated. I’m angry at whoever sucked me into this nightmare. And I’m unreasonably pissed off at Blake for leaving. Considering how much I’d hated the man this morning, my current desperate need for him was either ironic or pathetic. I didn’t care which. I just wanted him.

Andy was right about sending him away, but knowing he was safe was small comfort when I wanted his arms around me. Selfish? Maybe. But so very true.

I can feel tears welling in my eyes, and I stand up and start pacing the kitchen. “Okay,” I say, because I can’t think of anything else to say. “Okay, let’s start over. Hollywood. Movies and television.”

“And Jack.”

“Right. Okay. Sure.” I’m babbling, but I’m also pacing and thinking, and Andy is smart enough not to interrupt me. “I know Johnny Depp pretty well,” I say, without waiting for him to answer.

“Good for you. But he’s not a Jack.”

I roll my eyes because Andy is obviously clueless. “Captain Jack Sparrow. It’s a huge role for him.”

“Okay, so maybe it does refer to a part someone played.Pirates of the Caribbean, right?”

“Right,” I say, resisting the urge to pat him on the hand and tell him to read the entertainment news every once in a while if he wants to work in Hollywood.

“So there must be a pirate map and all that. Did they follow clues?”

I think back, trying to remember, but of course I can’t. Not for sure. “I don’t think so. I think they just knew where the treasure was.”

“Well, hell.”

“What about the reference toDeath Becomes Her ?”

“Was there a Jack in that movie?” he asks.

“Not a lead,” I say. “Maybe an extra?”

“Maybe,” he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. I’m not surprised. I’m not convinced either.

“We’re screwed, aren’t we?”

He shoots me one of those looks, and I smile sheepishly, then shrug off the whininess and slide back into character. “Right. Confident.” I take a breath. I can feel the black, smoky edges of fear creeping up beside me, and I steel myself. I’m not going to lose it. Not again. Lose it, and I might die. More important, lose it, and he wins. And there’s no f’ing way I’m letting him win.

“The first clue is supposed to be the easiest, right? So we’re just making too much of this. ‘My daughter, my sister, and a crazy old man.’ Plus a Jack.” I clench my hands into fists because—dammit!—I can feel the answer tickling my brain, but I can’t quite—

“Weren’t you in a movie with Jack Nicholson? Back when you were thirteen or something?”

“Chinatown!”I scream out the title and even do a little jig right there in my kitchen. “Two points for the home team. You are brilliant, and we areso smoking.”

“You weren’t inChinatown. ”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I can only wish to have been in a classic likeChinatown. “No,” I say, “but Jack was.” I look at him with new respect. “How the heck did you know about that movie? It got no press and disappeared in about fifteen seconds.”

“I went over your filmography back when we were castingGivenchy. I think I’ve seen everything you’ve been in at least once now. Some of them more than once.”

“I’m sorry,” I say with a laugh.

“Don’t be,” he says, his tone almost reverential. “You’re awesome.”

My cheeks warm. “Right. Well. At any rate, it’s good you remembered that, because Jackwas inChinatown, and I’m not sure I would have made the connection if you hadn’t blurted out his name.”

“My pleasure,” he says, his grin wide and his eyes big behind his glasses. “But help me out with the specifics. What does ‘my daughter, my sister’ mean?”

“That was the thing in the movie,” I explain. “Faye Dunaway’s daughter is also her sister.”

He makes a face. “That explains the crazy old man part.”

“Exactly.”

“So the old man was played by Jack?”

“Actually, he played the private detective.” The pieces are falling into place, and I tilt my head to the side as if that’s going to make them fall even faster. “The whole movie was about water, and there’s a scene where Jack finds the old man’s glasses in a fish pond.”

“‘The clue’s where he lost it and Jack found it again,’” Andy recites.

“Yeah. But what does that mean?” The part aboutDeath Becomes Her is what’s throwing me, and I turn toward my laptop, which Andy had moved to the table earlier.

“Google?” Andy says.

“Absolutely.”

I drag my finger over the trackpad and navigate to Safari. I bought the iBook after watching those fun Apple v. PC commercials. Am I the ultimate consumer, or what? At any rate, I love it and it’s fast, and the page was up in no time. “The clue was in a fish pond. So all we have to do is figure out what koi pond they used for the movie, and go there. Right?”

“Maybe.”

He doesn’t sound convinced, but I’m not about to be slowed down. Besides, I have to be right.Chinatown. The clue. Where he lost it and Jack found it. Obviously,our clue is waiting in the same place where Jack found his clue. Figure out that place, and we’re golden.

My euphoria soon fades, though, in the wake of the responses Google spits back. Chinatown, of course, is not only a movie, it’s also a section of Los Angeles. And to make matters worse, it’s a part of Los Angeles frequently used for movie locations. Instead of one nice little answer on Google pointing the way to the next clue, instead I’m faced with a billion (well, several thousand) hits. And no idea where to start.

“Fuck,” I say, because it seems appropriate. And then, because that felt so good,“Fuck.”

“Frustrated?”

I shoot him one of those looks designed to kill, and he gives me a sympathetic smile in return. “Don’t worry,” he says. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe,” I say, thinking about the poison that’s supposedly flowing through my body. “But will we figure it out in time?”

Chapter20

By some miracle, the Pacific Coast Highway was relatively free of traffic by the time Blake had wended his way out of Beverly Hills and over the surface streets toward the famous highway. The empty road was a blessing. He wanted to punch the accelerator and feel the wind against his face and breathe in the smell of the ocean to his left. He wanted to watch the sun finish its slow descent into the calm waters of the Pacific, and he wanted to believe that life really could be that beautiful even despite the horror that was sneaking in around the cracks.