The Prada Paradox (32 page)

“I’ll miss you,” I say. “But I’ll see you at the premiere.”

She laughs. “I wouldn’t miss it. Oh, and that reminds me. I have a few friends who are begging me for signed photos of you. Would you mind—”

I cut her off with a laugh. “I’ve got some head shots at home. E-mail me their addresses, and I’ll do it tonight.”

“You’re the best,” she says.

We’re finishing up the conversation when I notice that Andy is loitering nearby, waiting to talk to me. I realize that the full crew is back on the set, and I’m still wearing the robe, with nothing on underneath except my bikini bottom. Great.

“Hey,” Andy says as Mel heads off the set. “Any interest in getting a coffee after you’re done for the day?”

“Oh, Andy, I can’t. I’ve got a ton of errands.”

That, actually, is true. Even if it weren’t, though, I’d still say no. I’m just too afraid that saying yes would be leading him on.

His face falls. “Maybe later this week?”

I open my mouth, planning another brush-off. Then I realize I have to just get it over with. We’ll have coffee. I’ll explain that I’m back with Blake. And that, hopefully, will be that. “Sure,” I say. “Later in the week will be just fine.”

Chapter55

Ispend way too long shopping, and I’m running late by the time I turn into my driveway. Lucas opens the gate, and I give him a quick wave, but don’t stop to talk. I want to get the house ready. It’s exactly one year since Blake and I first started dating, and I’m planning quite the anniversary party.

An hour later, I’m showered and scented, and dressed in a filmy thing that reveals way more than it should. I’ve put candles all around, filled the tub with hot water and rose petals, and scattered more petals on the bed.

I had my housekeeper set me up with snacks, so the kitchen is well stocked with all sorts of yummy tidbits. And, of course, I have a bottle of red wine for Blake and Evian for me.

I pour myself a glass, then wander through the house making sure everything is perfect. It is. In fact, the only thing missing is Blake.

Unfortunately, half an hour later, he’s still the only thing missing.And he’s late.

I pace a bit, telling myself not to be the clingy female and call to harass him. He had scenes scheduled later than me today, plus an interview for some men’s magazine. So he could easily be running behind.

Still…

I manage to hold it in check for another twenty minutes, then I can’t stand it anymore. I pick up the phone and call, then hang up when I get his voice mail.Damn.

Okay. Fine.

I pace a bit more, then decide that I need a distraction.

My laptop is on the breakfast bar, and I fire it up. I’d planned to mail the head shots to Mel’s friends earlier and got sidetracked by my preparations. But I’d promised her I’d do it tonight, so I suppose now is as good a time as any.

It’s not Mel’s e-mail that I see, though. Because right there at the top of my in-box is a message from Play.Survive.Win.

Oh, God, no. Please, not again.

The blackness threatens to pull me in, but I beat it back, my hands so tight on the edge of the bar that the tendons hurt. I kept myself together throughout this whole ordeal—there is no way in hell I’m losing it now.

I take deep breaths, slowly and carefully, until I’m sure that I’m back to myself. Then I stare at the computer, wishing I could just toss the whole thing in the trash compactor.

I know what I have to do, but I don’t want to. Even so, I use my finger to move the cursor over the e-mail. Two taps, and it opens, revealing a message containing only a hyperlink. I click on the link and wait for the Web page to open. When it does, it takes everything I have in me to hold in the scream.

CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR WIN

BUT NOW IT’S ROUND TWO.

SO BE QUICK, QUICK, QUICK AS A FOX

AND TYPE THE ANSWER INTO THE BOX.

THE LAST CLUE YOU FOUND,

THE KEY’S WHAT IT SAID

TYPE IT IN HERE BEFORE YOUR

BOYFRIEND’S DEAD.

Same rules as before: No police. No help.

Let the games begin.

Chapter56

Iwill hold it together. I will. I will. I will.

My instinct is to call Mel or Andy, but the warning on the message is too much to ignore. As for Blake, I hope the threat is some vague warning of something horrible that will happen in the future, but I don’t really believe it.

Blake’s too late for our date. And in my heart, I know he’s in trouble.

I stare at the little box, waiting for me to type in an answer. Some sort of code that will tell me how to save the man I love.

Focus, Devi. Think and focus.

Right. I can do that. Because I don’t have a choice. Screw this one up, and it’s Blake that pays. And that’s not something I can live with.

The last clue you found, the key’s what it said.

Okay, fine. I can figure this out. After all, it’s not like I don’t have practice.

I think back to our adventure. The last clue was the note and the CD. So I typeUniversal into the text box on the Web page and get…nothing.

Frustrated, I try it again, this time in lowercase.

Still nothing.

I tryUniversal Pictures, Universal Studios, and each of the movies and stars listed on the clue.

Not a damn thing.

I’m just about to lose it when I remember: Oscar.

The last clue didn’t send us to Universal. The last clue held the antidote. We just didn’t have to follow it because we took Janus down.

I frown at the thought, because wedid take Janus down. More specifically, I did.

So who’s now playing the game?

It’s not a question I’m going to ponder too long, though, because the answer doesn’t matter. Not at the moment. All that matters is typing the clue into that box.

My fingers fly over the keys as I type in Oscar, and then I scream in frustration when nothing happens.

I’m about to try it in uppercase, when I remember the imprint on the base of the statue. I hold my breath, because if this isn’t the answer, I’ve run out of ideas.

Hollywoodland,I type. And sure enough, the screen hums with life, linking finally to an image of the Hollywood sign.

Hollywoodland Realty, I think. Because years ago, they’re the folks who placed the famous sign. The “land” has been lost, but “Hollywood” has stayed a landmark. A protected landmark, too. It’s not like it’s a public park that you can walk around in. I was given a tour once, and the security is insanely tight. The only access is via a small service road, and the place is watched over by L.A. Park Rangers and guarded tighter than the White House, with dozens of security cameras watching over it 24/7.

So what exactly am I supposed to do?

Actually, the thought of the security cameras reminds me, and I click over to Google and do a quick search. I remember a Web site that ties in to the security cameras so tourist-geeks can see what’s going on at the sign any time they want to. (This is, quite literally, like watching grass grow.)

Not a damn thing going on up there. The sign. A news helicopter in the distance. The sign. Another view of the sign. Yet another view of the sign.

I’m just about to give up and assume that I misinterpreted the clue when I see the news helicopter again.Exactly where I’d seen it before.

What the—?

I stare at the screen, thinking that surely it was a trick of the eye. But, nope. There it is again. Nothing, nothing, and thenpoof. A news helicopter.

The security cameras are running on a loop!

Which makes me wonder what I’d see if I could see the real live feed from the sign.

I don’t have to wonder, though. Because I know.

I’d see Blake.

And it wouldn’t be good.

Chapter57

It’s pitch-black by the time I make my way up the winding road to the section of mountainside on which the Hollywood sign is perched. A tall wire fence extends across the road, disappearing into the wilderness.

The moon is full, but the foliage is so dense that it hardly makes a dent against the shadows. With the flashlight’s narrow beam to guide me, I pick my way up the hill, climbing parallel to the fence as it circles around the sign.

I stop to get my bearings, looking down toward the lights of the city. It’s so dark up here that it almost feels like I’m floating in space. I’m not, though. Right now, my feet are more firmly rooted on the ground than they’ve ever been.

In front of me looms the Hollywood sign, the white-painted wood glowing eerily in the moonlight. Even from the back, it’s majestic, and so much bigger than it seems from down below.

I’m still dozens of yards away, and even with the illumination from the moon, I can’t see clearly, but I squint at it anyway, trying to find Blake. It’s too dark for me to see anything, and I feel a sudden rush of fear that I’m wrong, and wasting valuable time. That this whole nightmare will just go on and on.

No.

That thought is way too much to bear, and I force it out of my mind.

One step at a time, Devi. Just go one step at a time.

Since that’s damn good advice, I shine my light near the bottom of the fence, moving slowly until I see a place where the fence doesn’t quite reach the ground. It’s rough and rocky, and I’m going to get scraped up from head to toe, but I’m sure I can wiggle through.

I’m a little worried that the fence might be electrified, but there aren’t any voltage signs, so I try to quash the fear. Instead, I lie down and push my bag through the hole, then try to make myself as skinny as possible as I slide through after it. I get hooked on part of the fence, but manage to free myself. And then, with one more squirm, I’m through.

I stand up, brushing dirt off me, then bend over and grab my purse. I’m using the Prada bag because it was handy and I hadn’t wanted to waste time. But I dumped my usual accoutrements out, and now the bag carries only two things: a gun and a knife.

Just what every fashionable young celebrity needs.

I give the bag a pat, and press on. The ground is getting rougher, descending at a steeper angle as I approach the huge standing letters. So far, there’s no sign that there’s anyone here but me. I look around as I walk, trying to find the security cameras I know are out there. I can’t find them, though, and I wonder if my tormentor is watching me now. I suspect that he is. And I wish that the park rangers were.

I don’t hear any sound from in front of me, and I finally decide I’ve been sneaking around long enough. “Blake?” I call out in an overloud whisper. “Blake? Are you here?”

I stand still, silencing the crunch of my feet, and listen for a response. I don’t hear anything, though, and a bubble of worry rises in my chest. “Blake!” I call again, louder this time. Why the hell not? If the rangers find me, great. And I know that whoever lured me here already knows what I’m doing.

This time, I’m rewarded with a sound. Not a word, just a sound. A small rustling. I know it could be an animal, but I don’t believe that. It’s Blake. He’s okay. And all I have to do is get to him.

I rush forward, desperate now, stumbling over rocks, scraping my fingers on the ground as I try to keep from falling. I cover the distance quickly and find myself behind the giantH. He’s not there, though, and so I move along the letters, finally finding him at the far end of the sign. At theD.

He’s hanging there unconscious, suspended on the curve of the letter, his wrists bound together in front of him and his feet bound tight at the ankles. I’m not entirely sure what’s holding him up.

Not that I really care about the engineering; all I care about is getting him down.

“Blake?”

He doesn’t answer, but he does moan, and that little sound gives me hope.

It doesn’t, however, give me any ideas. I desperately wish he’d wake up. Not only because I’m terrified that he’s seriously injured, but also because I’m afraid I can’t do this by myself.

He’s not coming to, though, and I’m all on my own.

I edge closer, trying to get a feel for the situation. As far as I can tell, it’s just him and me, but that can’t be right. There’s some sort of trap here, too. I just haven’t found it yet.