The Prada Paradox (22 page)

“I’m okay.” I suck air into my lungs, then squeeze back. “I can handle this.”

“Yes,” he says. “You can. We both can.”

I nod, because I know him well. He’s not going to say more than that, but he’s terrified, too. Both for me and for him. He’s in as much danger as I am. And we both need to get moving if we want to survive. And Ihave to survive. “I want to see that bastard dead,” I say, with a sudden burst of fury. “For what he did to me. And for what he did to Mac.”

Revenge.That was my fragile link to sanity. Under the circumstances, though, I was happy to take whatever I could get.

“The page is up,” Andy says.

I look over and see that he’s closed the screen with the message from Janus, leaving the YourGivenchyCodeMovieNotes page that had been loading.

And although I’d expected it to be overflowing with graphics, in fact, it’s simply a blank page with a pink background and a clue in the middle:

Trap a parent, be a brother

You just need one place or another

Where the Loire meets the Angels

Where Led rides to be seen

Where Bogie plays with a thumb so green

The service is stunning, it’s sure to wow

So find the message—for the girl you are now.

Chapter31

“Damn thisfucking game,” Devi said, slamming her palm so hard against the laptop screen that Blake was afraid the thing would break. “So here we are with another fucking dumb-ass clue. What does it mean?”

“It means we’re one step closer to finding my antidote. And after we do that, we can find a safe place to hole up for a nap. I don’t know about you guys, but that’s pretty damn motivating.”

“Yeah,” she said. “It is.” It was after two a.m., and he’d been up since seven. Devi, he knew, had a five a.m. call, so she’d been up even longer. At the moment, they both had to be operating on adrenaline.

She tapped the screen. “Any ideas?”

“You’re the movie buff,” Andy said, which earned him a frown from Devi. A little fact that didn’t bother Blake in the least. She might have said there was nothing going on between them—and she might have even meant it, too—but he still couldn’t stop the little green thoughts in his head. He wasn’t proud of them, but that didn’t mean he could stop them.

“So let’s take this one step at a time,” Devi said. “‘Trap a parent, be a brother.’ What can that possibly mean?”

“Boys getting their parents back together again?” Andy asked.

“Maybe,” Devi said.

“Even if it is, so what?” Blake asked.

“We’re just trying to work through it,” Devi said reasonably. Blake nodded, but he wasn’t feeling particularly reasonable at the moment. Not with the hours ticking away, and the chance of finding the antidote right along with them.

He stood up, pushing the fear out of his mind. The same technique he used for fighting was coming in handy at the moment. Though in a way, he supposed it was apropos. He was fighting, after all. Fighting an unknown toxin and an unknown assailant.

Fighting to stay alive.

“What about the next line?” he said. “‘One place or another’?”

“No idea,” Devi said. “But I think it’s too vague. I bet it’s not a clue. I mean, it’s part of the riddle and means we have to go someplace, but I’m betting that’s all it means.”

“Andy?”

“I think she’s right.” He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Good job.”

Her smile lit the room, and she turned eagerly back toward the screen. “Okay, this next one, though. ‘Where the Loire meets the Angels.’ Any brilliant ideas?”

“Something French that’s here in Los Angeles?” Blake said.

“Oh!” Devi held up her hand. “That’s got to be it. L.A. is the City of Angels, right?”

“Progress,” Andy said with a grin. “Hallelujah.”

“So, what would be French?” Devi asked, more to herself than to him and Andy.

“Wine,” Blake offered, because it was the only thing he could think of.

“Fashion,” Devi said.

“There you go. So who are some French designers?”

“Ah, um. Prada is Italian,” she finally offered. “Honestly, I mostly just buy what I like. I know who has stores in Paris, but I don’t know if that’s home base.”

“Right,” he said. “Fair enough.”

“So maybe we should get on the Internet and figure it out?” Andy suggested.

“Go for it,” Blake said. “We’ll work our way through the rest of these clues.” At least, he hoped they would.

While Andy got settled in at the computer, Blake and Devi sat across the table from him, studying the cryptic message they’d copied onto notepaper.

“The only Led I know of is Led Zeppelin,” Devi said.

“‘Stairway to Heaven,’” he said. “Anyplace in L.A. fit that description?”

“Nothing I can think of. Besides, what’s the ‘ride’ reference?”

“What areany of the references?” he countered, frustration coloring his voice. Time was ticking away, and they weren’t getting anywhere. “Like this reference to Bogie. That’s got to be Humphrey Bogart, but in what? A movie? There are dozens and dozens to choose from.”

Frustrated, he pushed back from the table and started pacing, determined to keep the fear at bay. And equally determined not to look at the clock.

“Maybe it’s someplace that Bogart and Led Zeppelin have in common,” he said, forcing himself to get with the program.

“Okay, but what? This is insane!”

“Babe, I completely agree. Not exactly number one on my list of ways to pass the time. Especially since timeis passing.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, immediately contrite. “I’m tired. I’m not thinking clearly. And I’m scared to death.”

“I know.” He reached out and stroked the back of her neck, wishing he could transfer all the tenseness he felt there from her body to his. He looked up at Andy. “Have you figured out anything on the France-L.A. angle?”

“Not a thing,” Andy said. “You want to give it a go?”

“I do,” said Devi. She moved around to the computer, and Blake heard her tapping on the keys. After a second, she started tapping faster. And then, after she’d practically typed out a novel, she looked up, a wide grin on her face.

He held his breath, not quite able to believe there was good news after all the crap that had been thrown at them so far.

But then she spoke, lighting a tiny spark of hope.

“Come on, boys,” she said. “I know where we’re going.”

Chapter32

He kept the engine off, just in case. The computer, however, he kept powered up, and the bluish glow from the screen illuminated the interior of the car, making him slightly visible to anyone who might be looking.

So far, no one seemed interested.

The tracking software had yet to kick in, but he was a patient man. And now he was patiently waiting outside her house, almost half a block from the gated entrance and just around a curve in the road.

Amazing, really, that the game knew an address that he’d been trying to track down for years.

He thought of all the time he’d missed watching her coming and going….

Such a loss.

Soon, though, the past would be forgotten, and they’d be together for an eternity.

It was almost too much to believe, too much to hope for. And yet he knew that it would come true.

Once more, he glanced at the computer, still notoriously silent, refusing to give up its secrets. He knew that she had already solved the qualifying clue—the computer had revealed that much. He wished the tracking software would cooperate, but he was willing to be patient. All that mattered was that the game had commenced…and she was now fair prey.

Minutes passed, seemingly as long as hours. Cars eased by, but only a few. The hour, after all, was late. When he saw the lights approaching, he gently closed the laptop, dimming its light.

No one questioned him.

He was simply there. Part of the scenery. All of which confirmed his belief that he belonged there. Belonged withher. Why else would it be so easy?

His thigh muscles were beginning to ache, and he shifted uncomfortably, weighing his choices. He was just about to open the door when the gate in front of her house eased open, and a long convertible rolled out. He couldn’t see the driver, but he knew without a doubt that Devi was in that car.

With a smile in his heart, he turned the key, the engine revving to life, mirroring the power that now pulsed through his veins.

The hunt was on.

Chapter33

The Chateau Marmont.

As we race through the night, I ponder our destination, because once I started thinking along the right lines, interpreting the clue really had been simple.

It was the reference to trapping a parent that helped me figure it out, and I hoped like hell I was right. I thought I was, though, and the guys agreed with me, especially after I ran through my reasoning.

Once it clicked in my head, actually, it was pretty obvious. I’d started by puttingtrap andparent andHollywood into Google. The first hit wasThe Parent Trap, which was an awesome movie, both in its original Hayley Mills incarnation and its Lindsay Lohan remake.

It was Lindsay, though, that caught my memory. Because not too long ago there’d been a whole big to-do when she was called on the carpet by a producer who thought she was partying too much. (Sounds like me back in my wild days, although I never missed a call.) The letter was all over the trades (and the tabloids…and the Internet) and was addressed to Lindsay care of the Chateau Marmont, where she happened to be living at the time.

Okay, that was my starting point. And honestly, I just got lucky. Because the Chateau is one of my all-time favorite places in the world, and the whole Lindsay fiasco made me think of it. And since the famous hotel looks like a castle, I knew I had to be on the right track.

After that, it wasn’t too hard. The all-powerful Google confirmed that the Chateau was modeled after a Loire Valley castle. And the Chateau’s own Web site said that Bogie and Led Zeppelin had stayed there (and the rockers had ridden their bikes through the lobby). Even the reference to John became clear. John Belushi. One of the Chateau’s sadder claims to fame.

I let the guys know where we were going as we hurried out the door, tote bag with laptop in tow. The rationale, I filled in on the way as we sped out the gate and onto the deserted streets of Beverly Hills.

Now, as we turn onto Sunset, the wind whips through my hair, and I’m glad Blake left the top down on Blue, his 1960-something Buick. I was with him when he bought her, after trading in the late-model sports car convertible that had twice as many problems and not nearly as much character.

The thing is, a big honking boat of a car like this really is Blake. He’s not pretentious. He justis. And that was what I’d loved the most in him. That boy-next-door outlook on the world coupled with looks that will soon have every other woman in American drooling.

Unlike me, Blake didn’t grow up in the spotlight. He wasn’t used to the pressures of coming up with a quotable comeback on the spur of the moment. He hadn’t taken media training in lieu of kindergarten.

Is it any wonder he completely blew it onLetterman ? Because assuming he really did—and does—love me, then that’s all that happened. Letterman caught him by surprise (not so unusual, that), and he blurted out something that to his un-PR-educated brain sounded like the right thing. After all, the PR devil would have been sitting on one shoulder telling him to look sexy, act hot and available. Make millions of women wish they were in his bed. And the honesty angel would be urging him to just say what he felt.

So he did both. He told America we were together, but there were no plans for marriage in our future.

A technically true statement, even if it had scared me and angered me. Because if I could give my heart to him and he could so casually toss it aside…

The truth? I still think I had a right to be scared and angry. But I do know where he was coming from. I’ve learned a bit about stress and pressure in the last few hours, with Andy being a case in point. And I think it’s fair to say that we don’t always say or do what we should. Or even what we feel.

“Shit,” Blake says, his stern tone interrupting my reverie. “Hold on.”

And then, before I can ask what’s up, he jams down on the accelerator. I heave back against the seat, breathless. “Blake!”

“What the hell is going on?” Andy leans forward from the backseat, his head and shoulders between me and Blake.

“We have a tail,” Blake says.

I turn around and see a car in the distance, its headlights moving as we move. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” he says.

“Well, don’t go to the Chateau,” I say. “If it’s the assassin, we can’t let him know where we’re going.” On the whole, I feel very calm. Maybe it’s the unreality of the situation. Maybe it’s because I’m with Blake and Andy.

Or maybe I’m just in denial.

All I know is that my mind is whirring, but it’s not freaking out. Thank goodness for small favors.