You Belong To Me (34 page)

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Authors: Patricia Sargeant

BOOK: You Belong To Me
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“Excuse us,” Malcolm interrupted.
An eerie silence covered the crowd when they recognized Nicole.
“I thought you said she was dead,” the host questioned. “What's going on?”
The young woman's thin face grew paler with shock. Her light gray eyes were dazed. “I saw you dragged under a car.”
Nicole's stomach heaved at the description. She clamped a hand over her mouth.
Malcolm's muscled arm wrapped around her shoulders, bracing her. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
Nicole shook her head. She took a deep breath, willing the nausea to pass. “Why did you think it was me?”
“Your coat,” the woman answered. “I recognized your chocolate coat. You were holding it above your head as you ran back across the parking lot.”
Nicole swallowed the lump in her throat. Who had done this? Rage and grief frothed inside her. Malcolm's arm tightened around her as her body began to shake again.
“Could someone get us a chair, please?” he asked.
Someone positioned a chair behind Nicole. Malcolm pressed her onto the seat. She took a moment to form her next words.
“You saw my agent, Denise Maitland.” Nicole felt it important these people know Denise's name. She didn't want her friend to be an unidentified body. “I loaned her my coat. She went to get my cover flats from the car.” Nicole paused as her voice broke and guilt made an appearance.
“I'm so sorry.” The woman's gray eyes looked stricken. “I saw her when she came in looking for you. I pointed out your dressing room. I'm Stacey, the production assistant.”
Nicole recognized the regret in Stacey's eyes even as fresh tears pooled in her own. “Thank you.” Nicole's voice was so thick with tears, she feared Stacey wouldn't understand her.
Stacey took the box of tissues from her lap and passed them to Nicole. She nodded at Nicole's thanks, then looked away. Long, slow breaths lifted and lowered her thin shoulders. “I've never seen anything like that.”
Nicole needed to compose herself so she could find out who had struck down her friend. But the harder she tried to calm down, the harder the tears fell. Her chest heaved with rapid, shallow breaths. She felt Malcolm lay a supportive hand on her shoulder. Nicole wanted to tell him she would be all right. She needed to ask some questions, but she couldn't think. She couldn't clear her mind of the image of Denise being dragged through the parking lot.
She squeezed her eyes shut, and other images of Denise played behind her lids. Her first meeting with her agent. Denise's enthusiasm for the
InterDimensions
series. Denise encouraging her with her mystery series. Her friend bullying her into finding the self-confidence to promote her work through media interviews and book signings. Denise extending her hand for Malcolm's car keys and wrapping herself in Nicole's coat.
A lump blocked her throat, trying to cut off her air. Someone folded her hand around a glass of water. Through her tears, she saw Omar's face.
“Drink this,” he urged.
Nicole gulped the water, unblocking her throat. But she still wasn't capable of forming the questions she needed to ask.
And then she heard Malcolm asking for her. “The car that struck Nicky's agent, what did it look like?”
Stacey shuddered. “I don't know a lot about cars, but I paid close attention to this one so I could give the information to the police.”
“Whatever you can tell us would be appreciated,” Malcolm assured the production assistant.
Stacey nodded. “It was a black four-door Lexus SUV.”
An image of a black Lexus SUV with tinted windows parked across the street from her apartment flashed through Nicole's mind. Could that vehicle belong to the murderer? Could he have sat in his car watching her every morning as she ran? Her stomach muscles clenched in dread.
“Did you notice the license plate?” Malcolm's voice sounded strained.
“Yes,” Stacey whispered. “I almost forgot. I made a point of looking for it so I could tell the cops. It's KZY-2525.”
Malcolm's grip tightened on Nicole's shoulder. “Shit. It can't be.”
C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN
A.M.
L.A.
aired a repeat of a previous episode—after filling in viewers on the events of the morning and Denise's murder. Even during a crisis, the producers considered their ratings.
The police had taken custody of Denise's body. They'd promised to expedite the examination so Nicole could make arrangements to return to New York with her agent's remains.
It had taken a surprising amount of effort on Malcolm's part to convince Nicole to let Joyce stay with her. She had been listless on their way back to Malcolm's house after the police interview. But when he'd suggested asking Joyce to stay with her, Nicole had insisted she wanted to be left alone so she could rest.
In the end, he'd waited until Nicole went to bed. Then he'd called Joyce and asked her to stay with Nicole in case she woke before he returned. Assured the other woman was on her way and would retrieve his spare house key from under the welcome mat, Malcolm and Omar had driven to Leo's home. He hoped they'd find Frank at the other man's house.
“I think we should have asked the police to come with us,” Omar said.
He'd made the comment before. Malcolm explained again why he disagreed. “Leo's a good friend. I don't want to show up at his house with the police and ask him to surrender his son.”
Omar drummed his fingers on the passenger door handle. “This is going to be hard no matter how you do it.”
“True.” Malcolm slid into a parking space in front of Leo's house. “But bringing the police would feel like a bigger betrayal.”
“True,” Omar echoed, climbing out of Malcolm's car. “But we'd better be on our guard. It's not like we're accusing his boy of throwing a baseball through our window. Things could turn ugly.”
The two men mounted the steps to Leo's house and knocked on the door. While they waited, Malcolm braced himself for this meeting with his mentor.
“Mal. Omar,” Leo greeted them with pleasure and the customary twinkle in his blue eyes. “What a great surprise. Come in. Come in.”
As they crossed Leo's threshold, Malcolm looked around for signs of Frank.
“So what brings you gentlemen here?” Leo closed the front door and moved closer to them.
“We need to talk with you, Leo,” Malcolm began.
Leo studied their serious expressions. The twinkle in his eyes dimmed with concern. “Sure. Let's go into my office.” He turned to lead the way down the hall to a room decorated in silver and black. Leo gestured to the deep-cushioned seats before his desk. “Can I get you a drink?”
When both men declined, Leo relaxed into the executive seat behind his desk. “You men look as though you're heading for the electric chair,” he commented with a strained chuckle. “It can't be that bad. What can I do to help?”
Malcolm's discomfort increased with this display of his mentor's generosity. He hated carrying this message to someone who felt like family. “Leo, this is very difficult to say.”
The older man looked from Malcolm to Omar. “What's wrong?”
Malcolm was grateful Omar was letting him set the tone. He took a deep breath in an attempt to ease his tension. It was a useless exercise.
“We believe Frank may have been involved in threats against Nicky and Ty.” Malcolm briefly filled Leo in on the phone calls and letters he, Nicole, and Tyrone had received.
“My son, Frank?” Leo's eyebrows almost disappeared beneath the locks of hair falling over his forehead.
“Yes.” It hurt Malcolm to watch his friend turn into an adversary.
Frost entered Leo's eyes. “What makes you think that?”
Omar stirred in his seat. “The letters were written by a fan. Frank is a big fan of Nicky's books.”
“So are thousands of other people.” Leo sat up, glaring at Malcolm. “And you said that you thought the threats came from a competitor.”
Malcolm steeled himself to deliver the next blow. “A new development made us reconsider that theory.”
“What development?” Their host leaned back in his chair, his beefy arms crossing his chest.
Malcolm dreaded the words he had to say. “There was another hit-and-run today.”
“At the
A.M.
L.A.
studio parking lot.” Omar's voice picked up the story. Malcolm was grateful. “Nicky's agent was struck and killed by a driver who apparently mistook Denise for Nicky.”
“Dear God. I'm so sorry.” Leo paused to collect himself. “But what does that have to do with Frank?”
“The car was a black Lexus SUV,” Omar said.
Leo leaned forward, anger snapping in his eyes. “Frank drives a silver BMW.”
Omar and Malcolm exchanged looks, both remembering the silver BMW that had tried to run over Nicole.
“But Frank occasionally drives Ava's car, which is a black SUV,” Malcolm pointed out.
“I don't know anything about my son driving his mother's car.”
“I've seen him with her car,” Malcolm said. “And her license plate number is KZY-2525.”
Leo stilled. “That sounds right.”
“And that car was used to kill Nicky's agent,” Omar concluded.
“Yes.” A new voice entered the conversation. “But Frank wasn't driving it.”
Malcolm and Omar turned to see Ava DeCaprio framed in the doorway pointing a gun at them.
 
Denise was being dragged under the SUV while Nicole watched helplessly. Her agent's body thumped across the asphalt parking lot, trailing blood, flesh, and pieces of clothing. Denise kept screaming, “This was supposed to be you.” Over and over again the words slapped at her, leaving guilt and grief behind. Bells rang and Denise shrieked.
Nicole woke screaming.
She lay back, staring at the ceiling. She struggled to catch her breath and banish the nightmare from her mind. Then the thumping started again. Nicole shot up in bed, looking wildly around the room until she realized the thumping was someone pounding on the front door.
Nicole struggled out of bed, pulled on her robe, and padded downstairs. A peek out the side window revealed Frank standing alone on the porch. Nicole frowned. He was rocking on his heels and studying his watch. Something was wrong.
She pulled the door wide so he could enter. “What's wrong, Frank?”
The young man burst into the room. “You've got to come with me. It's the stalker. He has Malcolm.”
Nicole's heart thumped once, then dropped. Her hand flew to her throat. “How do you know?”
Frank spun toward her, his movements jerky. “We don't have time. You've got to get dressed and come with me.”
His urgency tried to pull her in, but Nicole had to stay calm. For Malcolm's sake. She backed up a step. “Go where with you?”
Frank stalked toward her. “To help Malcolm. The killer has him.”
“How do you know?” Nicole watched him. Something was wrong. “How did you get involved?”
“I've always been involved.”
She saw him raise his arm before everything went dark.
 
Leo stared in shock at his wife. “Ava, what's the meaning of this?”
“What's the meaning of this?” Ava repeated, seeming on the verge of hysteria. “You never could understand, could you? You don't have what it takes to be a good father. If you did, you'd understand what this means.”
“Could you explain it to us?” Omar asked.
Malcolm glanced at Omar. He hoped Ava hadn't heard the irritation in the other man's voice. He didn't need someone pushing her over the edge while she held a gun on them.
“He's a horrible father,” Ava said.
“That's not true.” The words were out of Malcolm's mouth before he realized he was going to say them. But he knew Leo was a proud, affectionate parent.
“He was never around,” Ava accused. “I raised Frank by myself. Like a single parent.”
Leo stood behind his desk. “Ava, that may have been the case in the beginning, but things changed.”
Ava tracked Leo's movements with her gun. “Are you calling me a liar?” Her tone was menacing.
“I don't think you're remembering the situation correctly.” Leo seemed wary, but he wasn't backing down.
“Frank is my whole world. And I'm his whole world. He's my baby boy. I need to keep him safe.”
“So do I.” Leo braced his arms on top of his desk.
“No, you never did,” Ava screeched, waving the gun wildly. “You wanted him to play sports. How would that have kept him safe?”
“But when he decided against joining a team, I didn't pressure him.”
“I had to talk him out of it.” Ava tapped her chest with the gun. “I told him he would get hurt. I told him he'd have just as much fun reading about adventures in the books I bought for him. But then he found those stupid
InterDimensions
books, and they took my place in his life. That bitch stole my son from me. All I ever heard was ‘Nicole Collins' and ‘
InterDimensions.
' Those characters became his family.”

InterDimensions
became his family?” Malcolm asked.
Ava switched her attention and the gun to him. “Yes. That's how he referred to them. I hated them. But I decided that if I couldn't stop him from reading those books, I would read them, too.”
“Ava, did Frank tell you he was going to try to stop the movie project?” Leo reclaimed his wife's attention.
The gun swerved again as Ava turned to face her husband. “He told me he didn't want them to make the movie. I told him he should do whatever was necessary to protect his family.”
Malcolm saw the blood drain from Leo's face. “You told him?” The words sounded choked. Leo's lips worked to form more words. “Did Frank kill Ty?”
Ava smiled. “No, of course not.”
Leo hung his head between his shoulders and sighed heavily. “Thank God.”
“I did,” Ava continued. “And I killed Nicole's agent, too. But that was an accident. I meant to kill Nicole.”
Nicole came to slowly and found herself staring at huge, purple orchids. She blinked and realized she was lying on her side on a sofa. But this wasn't Malcolm's sofa. Confusion became fear with her memory's return. She spared a moment to control her anxiety. She needed to stay focused.
She rolled over, and the movement woke the pain in her jaw. Another memory came back, one of a fist flying toward her face. Anger surged, but she squelched that emotion as well. She needed to stay in control.
Nicole looked around. She froze when she saw Frank sitting on the opposite sofa studying her. A book sat on his lap; a gun lay on the table beside him. Frank's stillness disconcerted her. His expression gave nothing away.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
A long pause preceded his answer. “I'm wondering what kind of person would betray her own family. A family she created.”
Frank was her stalker? She'd befriended him and shared meals with him. And he had killed Tyrone and Denise. He'd completely fooled her.
“What family am I betraying? And how am I betraying them?” She needed to understand why he had killed her friends.
“Don't pretend to be stupid. I won't accept that from you.” His words were all the more frightening for being delivered in a mild tone.
Nicole made herself match his composure. “I agree I'm not stupid. But that doesn't mean I know what you're talking about.”
“The family,” Frank repeated, as though willing her to understand. “The
InterDimensions
family.”

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