Thrill! (61 page)

"Jesus? he groaned.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Getting out of here - that's what!"

she shouted, rolling off the bed, grabbing her dress and shoes from the floor, and racing for the door before he could do anything about it.

She made it outside, and began running down the muddy garden path toward the front of the house.

A dog started to bark, she didn't care - she kept running as fast as she could.

Oh God, this is like the nightmare day of all time, she thought, hiding behind a tree, trying to shelter from the rain as she shimmied into her dress.

In the distance Sam emerged from his house and began calling her name. She stayed silent. After a while he went back into his house, slamming the door behind him.

434

What a loser geek! Him with his torn Cruise smile and spiky hair. Brad Pitt he wasn't.

She waited until she saw the light go out in his house. Then she crept back down there, picking up a sharp piece of glass on the way, puncturing the tyres on his precious motorbike. That would teach the moron not to mess with Summer Weston.

Now it was past midnight and she was freezing to death starving hungry, wet, tired and miserable. Maybe leaving Chicago hadn't been such a good idea after all. Although anything was better than life with Daddy Dearest. Shivering, she set off down the street.

By the time she reached Ventura Boulevard, unexpected tears were rolling down her cheeks mingling with the rain. She'd thought she could handle being out on her own, only now she had no money, couldn't trust anybody, and had nowhere to go.

She hesitated on the corner of the street. A truck shrieked to a stop.

"Wanna ride?"

a man said, leaning out his window, a big leer spread across his ruddy face.

"Come on,"

his companion encouraged,

"We ain't gonna bite jump in - we'll show ya the sights. Get ya outta the rain."

"Yeah,"

the first man sniggered.

"We'll even throw in ten bucks if you're a mz/good little girlie."

She turned and ran in the other direction, not stopping until she reached an all-night deli.

"Is there a phone I can use?"

she said to the Mexican parking valet.

"Over there,"

he said.

"I, uh . . . don't have money,"

she said.

"Can you lend me a quarter to make a call? I'll bring it back tomorrow. Promise."

The valet shrugged. He felt sorry for the young girl. She was soaked and miserable.

"Looks like you can use it more than me,"

he Said, handing her the change.

Gratefully she took the quarter and ran to the phone booth, ^ne'd made a momentous decision. She was telling Nikki everything.

435 sfcd^^^'SS^^

Someone answered the pnon

-S-tS »r *" ««8 *C Ph°"e ^

""tf^^Wtodono^

^-^__^fl IF MADELAINE Francis was in LA, Joey figured ^^^P^P^-A she had to be registered at a hotel. He tried the Beverly Hills Hotel first, they'd never heard of her. Next the Hilton - same thing. Then the Beverly Regent.

"One moment, please,"

the operator said,

"I'll connect you."

Fuck Richard Barry. The prick wanted Lara back and he'd go to any lengths to get her, including tracking Madelaine Francis.

"Hello?"

Madelaine's voice, sounding sleepy .

"Madelaine?"

he said, hardly able to believe it.

"Who's this?"

"Joey."

"Oh."

A long pause.

"What do you want?"

What the fuck did she think he wanted?

"Did you go with Richard Barry to see Lara Ivory this morning?"

She took her time before answering.

"Who told you that?"

she said at last.

"DzWyou?"

"Yes,"

she admitted, refusing to be intimidated.

"I was there."

"Couldn't accept me being happy, huh?"

"Get real, Joey,"

she snapped, suddenly losing it. Tm thrilled you're happy. Not so thrilled that you stole my money. What would you like me to do? Sit back and let you trample all over me twice? Oh no, young man, Lara Ivory deserves better than you."

"You've got your money,"

he said.

"I waited six years for the first payment,"

she said curtly.

"And n° thanks to you, I deducted the rest from your Dreamer cheque."

437 "What did you tell Lara?"

"I simply made her aware of who you are. Good God, Joey, you certainly fed her a crock of shit. A fiancee indeed! Frightened to mention you were living with an old bag like me? Did I embarrass you that much?1

"Where's she gone?"

"I have no idea. But I'm delighted to hear that she has gone. At least she has sense."

"I don't suppose it matters to you, Madelaine - but you've ruined my life."

"Don't mention it, Joey. You've already ruined mine."

And she slammed the phone down.

He stared into space for a moment. Richard Barry had screwed him, destroyed the only chance of happiness he'd ever had. And the slick sonofabitch was probably with Lara now, consoling her, telling her what a lousy no-good bastard Joey Lorenzo was.

Well, yeah, maybe he was a bastard. And yes, he should have paid Madelaine back long ago.

But what opportunity had he had when he was locked up in jail for a crime he didn't commit?

What fucking opportunity?

ft ft ft

The same day Joey took Madeline's savings, he hopped a, plane to St Louis, where he got a cab to Adelaide's apartment.

When she opened the door he was shocked. He hadn't seen her in three years. Her long dark hair was matted around her shoulders, her face puffy, with dark circles under her eyes, and orange lipstick smeared crookedly on swollen lips. She wore a stained pink peignoir, from which peeped a torn white bra. She also had a black eye and & chipped front tooth.

Who was this addled old woman? It certainly wasn't the beautif^ mother he'd left behind.

"I knew you'd come, son,"

she said.

"Knew you wouldn't let ^ down."

r

Why was she calling him son? She'd never done so before.

"OK, what's the deal here?"

he said.

"I .. I got into trouble flaying the ponies. Borrowed money at the track. Tou know what it's like when you're on a roll. Tou think it'll never end - then it all falls to pieces, and the people I borrowed from - they're not very nice . .. and these threats have been coming There was something not quite honest about her story. She was stammering too much, eyes downcast, unable to look at him.

"Where'd you get the black eye, Ma?"

"I fell,"

she stammered.

"Who are these people you owe money to?"

"A ... a syndicate. Tou know - they send collectors. A couple of guys came to the door. I'm frightened, Joey."

"What's Danny got to say about it?"

"Danny!"

She called out her boyfriend's name.

Danny wandered in from the bedroom clad in the definitive gangster outfit. Black shin, white tie and spiffy black suit. Like Pete Lorenzo, Danny was a petty hood, only instead of being forty years older than her, he was ten years younger.

"Hey, Joey,"

he said.

"How's it gain'?"

"Not so great,"

Joey replied.

"Not when I see my mother lookin"

like this. What happened to her?"

Danny shrugged.

"Beats me."

"Tou live with her. Aren't you supposed to be watchin"

out for her?"

"The broad's a drunk - what can I tell you?"

"Don't call my mother a broad."

Danny shrugged.

"Whatever y'say, Joey."

"So tell me about thegamblin"

debts?"

"All I know is she's gotta pay. Tou bring us the money?"

Joey resented the way he said

"us', since when was Danny involved?

I saw you in Solid, son,"

his mother ventured, lower lip quivering. Was so proud, watchin'you up there on the screen."

"How come you didn't call?"

I was going to, and then I was uh ... busy."

439 Oh, yeah. She wasn't too busy to call when she needed money.

"How'dyou chip your tooth?"

he asked.

"Another fall'?"

Danny sniggered.

"Yeah, the cunt can't walk straight when she's drunk."

Joey threw him a long hard look.

"What did you say?"

"I tell it like it is,"

Danny said, picking his teeth with a matchbook.

"Don't sit well with you, Joey boy? Well, fuck you. Tou're not the one stuck here lookin"

after the old broad."

"Tou'd better watch your mouth,"

Joey said.

Danny narrowed his eyes.

"The pretty actor boy's gonna tell me what t'do?}

"You're an asshole,"

Joey said.

"Now, now, guys,"

Adelaide interrupted, like she was Lana Turner in some old gangster movie.

"Don't want you fighting over me."

Joey felt like crying. She didn't get it, did she? This pathetic old woman was his mother, his once beautiful Adelaide - the shining light of his life, who'd never given a shit about him. Now she was this drunken crone, with a boyfriend from hell.

"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do,"

he said.

"I'll meet with the guys you owe. Make a deal with

"em. OK?"

"Not OK,"

Danny said quickly.

"We need cash now."

"Back off,"

Joey said.

"Tou're notgettin"

shit till I straighten this out."

"There's only one way to straighten it out,"

Danny said.

"And that's t'hand me the money."

"Yes, Joey,"

Adelaide said anxiously.

"Give Danny the money, then you can go home."

What did they take him for - a fucking bank? Give them the money and get the fuck out. What was going on here?

"You have it, don't you?"

Adelaide asked.

"Some of it,"

he answered cautiously.

"Hope you didn't leave nothin"

at your hotel,"

Danny said.

"I'm not at a hotel."

"Then you got it on you?"

"Maybe."

"Hand it over, Joey boy."

440

cDo it,"

Adelaide encouraged, wringing her hands.

"The only way you're gettin"

the money is when I pay it to the people she owes."

"Dumb prick!"

Danny exploded. And before Joey knew what was happening, Danny had pulled a gun and was pointing it in his direction.

"Drop the wad on the table, sonny, and get out."

Adelaide said nothing. She watched.

"What kind of a set-up is this?"

Joey demanded.

"I'm sorry,"

Adelaide murmured.

Sorry didn't cut it. He was burning up. He certainly hadn't come back to St Louis to be told what to do by some broken-down hood. And the motherfucker was holding a gun on him. No way was this prick getting away with this crap. Besides, Danny was too much of a coward to use it, Joey could see the yellow in his eyes.

He kicked out like he'd seen in the movies. Danny fell, and the gun went flying out of his hand.

"Dumb punk,"

Danny roared, scrambling across the floor for his weapon.

"I'm a punk, huh?"

Joey said, kicking the gun away.

"Wanna show me what kinda punk I dm?"

"Stop it,"

Adelaide groaned.

"Please stop it."

Danny staggered to his feet and threw a punch. Joey retaliated catching him on the chin.

"Cocksucker!"

Danny yelled.

"You got no idea who you're dealin"

with."

"Who gives a shit?"

Joey responded, struggling with the man.

"I want you out of my mother's life."

You call her your mother,"

Danny sneered.

"I call her a dumb hooker cunt."

Now they were rolling on the floor, exchanging blows. And then Danny pinned Joey down, grabbed a bookend from a nearby shelf, and smashed the side of Joey's head with such force that he lost consciousness for a moment. In the distance he heard a shot and thought that was it - he was gone.

He managed to open his eyes. Danny was slumped on the floor olood pumping from a hole in his neck. Adelaide was standing next to hint, shaking from head to toe, holding the gun.

441 "Oh fuck, Ma,"

Joey groaned, staggering to his feet.

"What've you done now? Oh, fuck!"

He snatched the gun out of her hand and made her sit down. Then he ran into the kitchen for a bottle of brandy and forced her to take a couple of swigs.

Neighbours began hammering on the door. A rough male voice.

"Everything all right in there? What's goin"

on? We've called the cops."

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed a cloth from the kitchen and wiped the handle of the gun clean. Then he put his own prints on it.