Previously…
Miranda learned that her surgery wouldn’t be a quick fix, and that she’d have to endure several months of laser treatments afterwards. James blasted Alex for not reassuring their daughter, then accused her of being the reason their children were shallow and materialistic. Stormy continued to give Alex the cold shoulder, angry at her for driving Kelly away. After beating Scott Kelly, Benji took refuge at a friend’s house. Detective Callahan questioned Jordan in Scott’s beating, claiming that Alex had pointed the finger at him. Suzanne’s bail was denied as the DA refused to investigate Victor’s actions. Renee agreed to have dinner with T.T., only to have it interrupted when a woman named Angela showed up at the door.
“Nice to meet you,” Angela Warner said to Renee, condescension oozing, her hands like tentacles on T.T.’s body. She looked around the room and noted the various offerings. Champagne, candles, soft music. It was all quite romantic. “Have I interrupted something?”
Renee could read the look on T.T.’s face. He was uncomfortable, guilt enveloping him on every level. She didn’t have to be a genius to figure out what was going on. He and Angela were more than business associates.
“No, not all,” she said, setting down her champagne and picking up her mink stole. “I was just leaving.”
“Renee…” T.T. began to protest.
“Don’t leave on my account,” Angela purred. She was a drop dead beautiful African American woman of twenty-six with long ebony hair and a radiant completion.
Renee pulled open the door and paused before leaving. “Don’t worry, I’m not,” she said, then gestured to the champagne and caviar. “You should enjoy yourself. It seems T.T. has gone to a lot of trouble to make this a perfect evening.”
Watching her storm out into the hallway, T.T. knew that Angela’s arrival would cause irreversible damage to their relationship, or lack thereof. Still, he couldn’t let her leave without trying to explain. He started to run after her.
“T.T., come back,” Angela said and tugged at his arm. “I just got here. Didn’t you miss me?”
Irritated, he pulled his arm away from her and dashed out of the room.
When the elevator doors opened on the third floor of Cedars-Sinai, Jordan proceeded down the corridor until he found Alex sitting in the waiting room by herself. She quickly jumped to her feet and intercepted him by the coffee machine.
“Jordan, thank god,” she said and pulled him into an embrace. “I’ve been so worried. James told me everything. I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe Victor would—”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jordan ruthlessly cut her off, taking her hands and forcefully removing them from his chest.
She looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I just ran into Detective Callahan downstairs,” he explained. “She filled me in on your little chat. Why in hell would you tell her that I beat up Scott Kelly? Are you just trying to invent things to blame me for now? As if telling her about Dunning wasn’t bad enough. You just won’t be happy until I’m behind bars, will you?”
Alex vehemently shook her head, tears immediately forming in her eyes. “No! Jordan, you’ve got it all wrong! I didn’t tell her anything like that! She tricked me!”
“You’re lying!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. Several nurses and orderlies passing by the waiting room stopped and stared, but he didn’t care. He continued with his tirade. “What did you tell her?”
Sobbing, Alex reached for him again. “She asked about my relationship with Scott and asked me if I knew who would want to hurt him. I told her that I didn’t know, but then she brought up my affair with him.”
“Fake affair!” Jordan corrected her, shoving her hands away again. “Unless you’re telling me you really did sleep with him on set.”
“No, of course not,” Alex said, shaking her head. “I’ve never slept with another man since we’ve been married. You’ve got to believe me.”
Jordan shook his head in disgust. He did believe her, but her lack of faith in him and her constant betrayals were far worse than any affair.
“What about Frank?” he asked through gritted teeth.
She whimpered, lowering her head and trying to avoid eye contact. A quiet shake of her head was all the response she was able to muster.
Again, Jordan asked her, this time louder. “What about Frank, Alex?” he demanded.
“It just came out,” she said. “I didn’t mean to tell her. I was just so confused by everything. First the news about Suzanne and Victor, and then—”
“Save it!” Jordan screamed at the top of his lungs. “You deliberately sold me out. The only thing is I can’t figure out why. What the hell have I ever done to you?”
She tried to match his accusatory tone, failing miserably. “You lied to me for our entire marriage!” she screamed. “If you’d just told me about Suzanne to begin with—”
He grabbed her by the arm and shook her hard. “Now you’re making excuses for your own selfish behavior,” he said. “The truth is you’ve never trusted me.”
“That’s not true,” she cried, wincing as his hand clasped tightly around her arm.
“You told the police I kidnapped Michael Blackthorne,” he began, listing every incident he could think of. “You accused me of killing Will Thomerson, you even believed Frank when he told you I killed Suzanne. What the hell haven’t you accused me of, Alex? Where is your faith in me and our marriage?”
She sobbed hysterically, pulling away and collapsing into a chair in the waiting room. “I have faith in you!” she screamed through a haze of tears. “But you’re so secretive! You only let me in when it suits you!”
He glared down at her with utter contempt. For the life of him he couldn’t remember why or how he’d ever fallen in love with her. The woman he saw before him was a pariah.
“I would have thought that you’d have given me the benefit of the doubt before you went and turned me over to the goddamn police!” he said, his voice elevating with each syllable.
“No,” she cried, shaking her head in protest. “No, I did give you the benefit of the doubt. I did, but there were too many secrets.“
He stopped her with a wave of his hand. “Our marriage is over,” he said. “Get the rest of your things out of my house by tomorrow morning or else I’ll have them thrown in the trash.”
She wiped her eyes and looked at him in astonishment.
“Then I’m going to get the fastest divorce you’ve ever seen in your life,” Jordan went on. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to get you out of my life once and for all.”
“You bastard,” Alex lamented, jumping up and raising her hand to slap him.
He stopped her mid-air, pulling her hard and shoving her back onto the chair. She cowered against the back of the seat, burying her face in her hands and cringing as the door to the waiting room slammed shut after he left. Frantically, she reached over and swept a pile of magazines and half-full Styrofoam cups of coffee onto the floor in a blind rage.
“Please don’t leave like this,” T.T. said when he caught up with Renee at the elevator bank. “I have to talk to you.”
She harrumphed, impatiently waited for the elevator to arrive. “I don’t know why. Your business associate is waiting for you. She seems like a high maintenance kind of girl. Something tells me you shouldn’t keep her waiting. It looks like it might be past her bedtime anyway.”
“Don’t be like that,” he countered. “Angela is overly dramatic. She’s just a girl who works at Titan Records.”
“Did I say otherwise?”
T.T. looked at her skeptically. “Come on, I know you. It was written all over your face.” He took her hand and looked pleadingly into her eyes. “I promise you that I had no idea she was going to show up.”
“Well, this Angela seems full of surprises,” Renee seethed, pushing the down button several more times. “And how stupid do you think I am? I saw the way she greeted you when you opened the door. That kiss was not a kiss that business associates share.”
“That’s just her way,” T.T. explained.
“Tell me the truth,” Renee said. “For once in your life tell the truth, T.T. Who is Angela?”
He sighed, throwing his hands up in resignation. “It’s what I was about to tell you before she showed up.” A pause while he chose his words carefully. “Angela and I were seeing each other back in New York.”
Renee raised an eyebrow. “Were?”
He shrugged and decided it was futile to try and sugar coat it. He wasn’t good at lying and Renee certainly didn’t deserve being lied to. “We still are,” he admitted, then quickly added, “but I was planning on ending it with her when I got back to New York. That’s the business I told you I had to take care of.”
“Oh, I don’t believe you’re doing this to me again!” Renee shrieked. Finally, the elevator arrived and the doors opened before her. “I mean, how stupid am I? I should have known you were trying to pull one over on me just like you did with Julia.”
“This isn’t the same,” T.T. said and blocked the door from closing between them. “We’ve been on the verge of ending it for quite a while. In a few more days it would have been final.”
“How nice for you,” Renee replied and pressed L for lobby.
“Renee, I really want us to get to know each other again.”
“You haven’t changed a bit, T.T. Still using the same lines that you did on that cruise. Well the difference now is that I’m a grown woman and I know a line when I hear one.”
He finally let go of the doors. “Renee,” he pleaded one final time.
“Goodbye, T.T.” She looked away as the doors closed and the elevator began its descent to the lobby. Once she was alone, she slammed her fist against the elevator wall and cursed herself for being so careless. Her eyes stung with tears but she quickly fanned them dry. She refused to shed another tear over T.T. Levitt.
Miranda felt like a mummy about to be unwrapped. In the movies there was always an invisible man underneath. She wondered if she would be invisible once the bandages came off. In a way it would be a blessing. From the way he talked, she wouldn’t be completely healed for some time.
“I’m very pleased with how things went in surgery,” Dr. Gutman said in the examination room the following day.
“It was a success, then?” James asked from the sidelines.
A few feet away, Alex stood silently. She didn’t look at him or even acknowledge his presence. After the way he spoke to her the day before she didn’t care to ever talk to him again. The fact that he could blame her for their children’s problems was an insult beyond anything she could imagine.
“Yes, it was a success,” the doctor replied as he gently removed the gauze covering Miranda’s burns. “Now you’re going to see some bruising around the incisions,” he warned her. “Those will go away in a matter of days.”
Miranda gripped the examination table tightly, her hands sweating against the vinyl. Dr. Gutman hung close to her face, inspecting her as if she were a specimen under a microscope.
“The grafting went very well,” he continued. “I’m only expecting there to be two vertical scars on your cheek. That’s common with this kind of surgery. It’s something that we can minimize with laser treatments.”
“And then the scars will go away?” Alex asked.
“In time, yes.”
When he handed Miranda a small mirror, she looked at her father and swallowed nervously. She was terrified to look. What if she saw herself and she was still the same hideous monster that she was before the surgery? What if she didn’t look like herself? This madman doctor could have put someone else’s face on her and she would have to live with it.
But when she finally looked in the mirror, she saw her own face. The red, blistered burns and exposed flesh were gone. In its place was a new piece of skin that quite miraculously seemed to flow seamlessly into her own. There was bruising and swelling, and she could see where there were two raised edges that were probably the scars Dr. Gutman had mentioned. They were each about three inches long and ran from her cheekbone to her jawbone.
“It’s amazing,” James said and looked at his daughter closely. “Dr. Gutman, you did a fantastic job.”
Alex stayed back, afraid to say anything for fear of setting James off again. She prayed that Miranda saw the progress that had been made. It would be all too easy for her to get upset and feel that she was still disfigured. The truth was she looked a hundred times better.
James looked at Miranda and tried to read her mind. “Sweetheart, what do you think?” he asked.
She continued staring at herself in the mirror, barely acknowledging her father’s question.
Dr. Gutman exchanged glances with James and Alex. “We can schedule the first laser treatment as soon as the scar tissue has healed,” he said. “By my estimation, after about six or so sessions you should see a vast improvement.”
James put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and offered a reassuring smile. “Isn’t that good news?” he asked.
She didn’t reply.
“Miranda?” James repeated, concerned that she was unhappy with the results.
Finally, she set the mirror down and leaned back against her pillow. “Yeah, that’s great news,” she said solemnly.
Stormy called Eddie and told him to meet him at the gym. He figured they both needed to relieve some stress and he wanted to offer his support in light of what went down with Victor. Besides, he needed to take his mind off Kelly. They hit the free weights first, then proceeded to the bench press.
“Do they really think he’s dead?” Stormy asked as he watched his friend push the barbell up and away from his chest, exhaling loudly with each repetition. He realized how callous it sounded but there was no way to sugar coat it. Trying to be tactful in this situation was difficult at best.
“Beats me,” Eddie replied while he exhaled. “Jordan seems to think so.”
Stormy could tell he was pushing himself so he hovered over him with his hands perched in preparation to grab the bar if needed. He knew Eddie had to take his aggressions out, but he hoped it wasn’t at the risk of hurting himself.
“Sorry if this comes across abrupt,” he began, “but you don’t seem very upset about it. He was your dad. I always thought the two of you had a pretty good relationship. Better than me and my father most of the time.”
Once Eddie had completed his set, he replaced the barbell and sat up on the bench. “I guess we had an okay relationship,” he began, his breathing labored. “When he was lucid, which wasn’t very often. He spent ninety percent of the day drunk or high on pills. I mean, you were around him enough to see that. After my mom left he stopped caring about being a father.”
“He was probably just miserable,” Stormy suggested and handed him a towel. “I mean, isn’t that what his revenge was all about? The life that Jordan took from him?”
Eddie stood up and wiped down the bench before dabbing his sweaty face and neck. “He was on enough mood stabilizers that you’d think he would have gotten over it in no time. But not my father. No, he had to turn the whole thing into a production. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He didn’t do anything unless it was a performance.”
Stormy knew he was holding in his hurt and anger. In time he would come to deal with it, but he didn’t want to push. “How about Blake? He still taking it hard?” He laid down on the bench and lifted the barbell.
“He’s freaking out. He blames the Rydells for all of it. I tried to tell him that dad was going to go off the deep end regardless if our mother left or not. He’s sick. It’s the nature of his illness.”
“What is he going to do?” Stormy asked between reps. “He can’t just go on living at your father’s house by himself.”
Eddie groaned with irritation. “No, he’s moving in with me. Isn’t that great? What fun it’ll be to have a teenager cramping my style.”
Stormy laughed, his muscles straining. When he replaced the barbell he sat up and snatched his towel from the ground. “Speaking of, you haven’t been to the hospital to see Miranda. The doctor took her bandages off this morning.”
“And?” Eddie asked, suddenly more interested in the conversation.
“Big improvement. There’s still some work to do but she’s much better. You should stop by and see her. She goes home this afternoon.”
Eddie shook his head thoughtfully. “No, she told me how she felt. She doesn’t want me anywhere near her. A guy can only take so many rejections before he gets the hint, you know?”
“Yeah, but what do you expect? Her whole life she’s been relying on her appearance. Once that was taken away from her she lost a lot of confidence. Maybe it would do her some good if you told her she’s still the same ol’ Miranda.”
“I did! I did that and she told me to get lost!” They walked across the crowded gym floor toward the locker room. Before they entered, a woman passed, eyeing him up and down with a smile and a wink.
Stormy witnessed the exchange and Eddie’s non-reaction. “What was that?” he asked.
“What?” Eddie asked as he weaved his way through the locker room.
“That woman out there,” Stormy said and peeled off his sweaty shirt. “She was totally checking you out and you barely even noticed. What the hell’s gotten into you?”
With a shrug, Eddie undressed and stepped into the showers. “I didn’t notice,” he said.
Laughing in amusement, Stormy followed him and took the shower stall next to his. “Now I know you’ve got it bad for my sister,” he said and stood under the hot spray. “A girl like that checks you out and you don’t even flinch? Get serious.”
Eddie turned on his shower and turned his face to the spray of water. He closed his eyes and thought about Miranda and the minimal progress they’d made. It seemed that since the earthquake she was pushing him away more than ever before. He wanted to go see her, but what if she still pushed him away? He liked her, but he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself for her. He was torn.
After just a day and a half, Benji had had enough of life at Van’s hacienda. Things had gotten weird fast, starting with his arch-nemesis, Sheldon Novak arriving yesterday for a swim. Van knew that they didn’t get along as a result of last year’s hidden camera incident that resulted in Benji nearly shooting him in the bathroom at The Viper Room. Yet he obliviously invited him over to get stoned with them. After trying to get Van’s attention with icy glares of protest, Benji gave up and did his best to ignore the guy.
But when Van announced he was going inside to crash, Benji found himself in the pool alone with Sheldon. He resisted the urge to pound his face in. One crack about his family and he would do just that. Surprisingly, Sheldon behaved himself, taunting him only about trivial things like his banged-up car in the driveway and his bloodshot eyes.
“I had a rough night last night,” Benji had murmured as he sat on the edge of the pool, his feet dangling in the water.
“Dude, I hear ya,” Sheldon had said from the water. “I banged my housekeeper’s niece all night. Could barely walk this morning.”
Why this proved to be arousing was unclear, but Benji felt an immediate stirring in his boxers. He glanced at Sheldon and realized he appeared to be checking him out. That was when things seemed to take an unexpected turn.
“Wow, that’s impressive,” Sheldon said with a wiseacre grin, eyes focused on the tenting in his boxers. “Dude, everything I’ve heard about you is true.”
Benj turned his face to the warm sun and closed his eyes. He laughed and offered a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. He couldn’t remember what stupid thing Sheldon said next, but a few minutes later they wound up in the shade of the small pool house where Sheldon jerked him off.
“I’ve never done that before,” Sheldon had said a half dozen times before he got his things and left. “If you tell anyone I’ll kick your ass.”
Benji gave him a half-assed reassurance and then resumed his place by the pool. He always knew there was something about Sheldon Novak. He laughed to himself, amused by the irony in the situation.
The next morning, Benji got into his BMW with its broken-out windows and smashed in hood. He went back to Beverly Hills where he half-expected a search party for him to be in full effect. Instead, he found his father on the phone in his study.
“I don’t care! I want you to find something on that judge that I can use!” he was saying before he noticed Benji enter through the front door. Quickly, he got off the phone and raced out to intercept him. “Where have you been?” he asked.
“Around,” was Benji’s vague reply. He started up the stairs before Jordan called after him.
“Son, wait a minute,” he said, trying his best to remain even-keeled in light of his anger about Benji taking off two days ago. “Don’t you think we should talk?”
He stopped on the third step and turned back to his father. “What’s there to talk about?” he asked. “About how you shipped me off to boarding school for twelve years so I wouldn’t blab about my mother killing someone? About how you lied to me and let me believe she was dead all that time? About how every time you visited me in Switzerland you never said she was in a mental institution five miles away?”
“I didn’t let you think your mother was dead,” Jordan insisted. “I didn’t even know you thought that. All I ever told you was that she left us. From a certain point of view it was the truth.”
“Whose point of view?” Benji asked angrily, turning and walking into the living room. He pointed to the rug covering the wood floor and clenched his fists in anger. “I saw the blood on the floor, remember? I may have only been five years old but I wasn’t stupid!”
“I wanted to protect you,” Jordan said. “I couldn’t have you thinking your mother was a murderer!”
“What about Heather? Look at what your lies and your cover-ups did to her! Because of you and that stupid affair with Blake’s father, she’s been in and out of her mind for years! What do you think caused her to black out and shoot Will Thomerson?”
Jordan shut his eyes tightly. He hated what he’d done to him. Every questionable thing Benji had done was probably a direct response to how he’d screwed everything up for him. It was true. He was to blame for who his children had become.
“Blake was right, you know,” Benji continued. “You and mom ruined so many lives. Blake’s, Eddie’s, Victor’s, not to mention me and Heather’s. Jesus, even Alex moved out!” He turned and went back to the staircase. “I hope you’re happy. I don’t want to have anything to do with you or my mother.”
“Benji, wait!” Jordan called after him. “Come back here!”
But the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut told him it was not the time to try to talk to him. He needed more time to cool off and put things in perspective. In the meantime, the best thing he could do was try to get Suzanne freed of her charges. She was the only one who could begin to mend their family.
Across town at Moonshadows, T.T. stepped out onto the terrace that jutted out off his spacious hotel suite. He wore a robe that was tied at the waist, course hair on his chest glistening in the sun. He gazed out at the Pacific and took in a deep breath of ocean air.
He thought about Renee and how he’d ruined things with her before they even got stated again. If only he’d been honest with her from the start about Angela maybe they would have had a chance. It had been different with Julia. When he met Renee, he had no intention of anything long-term because of his fiancé who was waiting for him at home. By the end of their cruise, however, he’d fallen in love. He had to come clean. Of course, Renee, being the strong woman she was, refused to accept it and left the ship without a look back.
The minute they reconnected, however, he immediately reconciled his old feelings for her. It was true, he and Angela had begun to part ways, but that did little to sway Renee’s feelings of betrayal.
His thoughts were interrupted when Angela appeared behind him dressed in one of his oversized t-shirts. She wrapped her arms around his strong body and rested her head against his back.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
He turned toward her. “I’m wondering what you’re doing here. When I left New York, we said we were taking a break. You agreed that we needed time apart. Now you’re here and acting like everything’s fine.”
She did her best to deflect any harsh feelings with a coy smile and playful pout. “I missed you, T.T. My bed was cold without you. Besides, it’s a good thing I did show up or else you might still be with that woman from last night. Who is she anyway?”
“Renee is a very dear old friend,” T.T. snapped. “We ran into each other and we’ve been trying to reconnect. Until you showed up last night, that is.”
Angela placed her hands on his chest, lifting her eyes and staring innocently at him while batting her eyelashes. A trademarked seduction technique.
“She doesn’t seem like your type,” she said. “I thought you liked them young and firm like me.”
She knew he couldn’t resist her when she pretended to be coy. T.T. had always been able to see right through her. It worked to her benefit when he wound up giving her a job with Titan Records, and it worked when he slept with her in his Manhattan penthouse last year. Before long she was less employee and more girlfriend. One who happened to be half his age.
“Come on, Angie, what kind of game are you playing?” he asked, taking her by the wrists and pulling her off of him. “Did you come here just spoil things for me? You can’t have me so no one can, is that it?”
The remark left a bad taste in her mouth, so she belligerently folded her arms and took a few steps back.
“You’re in a bad mood,” she said, turning and sitting down on the sofa in front of a room service tray. She picked through a stack of strawberry pancakes and decided to change the subject. “So where’s Malcolm, anyway? I thought he was in L.A. too.”
“He is,” T.T. replied, tying his robe closed and picking up the newspaper. “He’s got a room downstairs next to Sierra.”
“Oh…..her,” Angela said with a roll of her eyes. She sighed and crossed her bare legs while she nibbled on a strawberry dipped in whipped cream. “I have to give Malcolm credit. This is the longest I’ve seen him stay with a girl. Do you think this one might be serious?”
T.T. shrugged. He wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. An article on the front page had caught his attention. Throwing the paper down, he turned and started to the bedroom to get dressed.
“Where are you going?” Angela called from her spot.
“Out,” he said. “Stay here if you like, but you’ll need to get your own room tonight.”
Frowning, she leaned back against the sofa and grumbled about how cranky he was being. It hadn’t been the reaction to her surprise visit that she expected.
One floor below, Sierra knocked on Malcolm’s door and he greeted her with a warm kiss and a plethora of compliments on her radiant appearance.
“I’ll be ready to go in just a minute,” he said, tenderly taking her hand in his and kissing it before he traipsed to the bedroom to finish getting ready. “I made our lunch reservations at The Ivy. I hope that’s okay with you.”
“It’s fine,” she called into the other room while plopping on the white leather sofa and glancing at the newspaper. She skimmed through yet another story about the troubles that Jordan was going through. It seemed that every day there was more information released to the public, and more opportunity to label the Rydells as the hottest story of the moment.
When Malcolm returned from the bedroom dressed in his tennis whites, he scavenged for his car keys and wallet. “I’m ready whenever you are,” he said.
She sighed and rose from the sofa.
“You okay, Babe?” he asked and went to intercept her. Placing his hands on her arms, he looked into her eyes and then down at the paper and the story about Suzanne and Jordan. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”
She nodded, staring at the paper. “I can’t believe Jordan’s been carrying this around all these years,” she said thoughtfully. “You know, Suzanne and my mom were great friends before she went away.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh. I know she really wants to help but it doesn’t sound like there’s much she can do.” She sighed again. “I should really go see Benji. He must be torn up about all of this.”
Malcolm frowned and pulled away instantly. “Well…yeeeah, but he has his family for support. I don’t know if you’re what he needs right now.”
“But we’re friends,” she said. Truthfully, the last time they’d talked was at the hospital when she told him there couldn’t be anything more between them other than friendship. He hadn’t taken it well and she wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even want friendship from her.
“I just think it’d be best if you left him alone, Sierra,” Malcolm said crossly and walked across the room. “I don’t know why you’re so hung up on this guy.”
She shifted her weight and placed a hand on one hip. “What does that mean?” was her response. “I am not hung up on him. And how do you know what Benji needs anyway?”
Malcolm could tell she was getting defensive so he did his best to deflect any further argument. “I don’t. Look, I just don’t think you should get involved. It seems like a family matter. You said yourself there’s not much you can do. He may not even want to talk about it.”
Sierra considered that he might be right. It did seem awfully personal. She managed a faint smile and followed him to the door.
Malcolm led her out into the hall and pulled the door closed behind him. The last thing he wanted was another excuse for Benji Rydell to get close to her. His heroic acts during the earthquake had been quite enough.
Heather was led into the private visitation room downtown at police headquarters where her mother was pacing nervously back and forth. When they saw each other, they immediately went in for a warm embrace.
“No touching,” the guard said before securely locking the door behind. He motioned to the small conference table where there were two chairs positioned on either side. “Take a seat. You’ve got five minutes.”
They reluctantly sat down across from one another. Suzanne resisted the temptation to reach out to her daughter’s hand. Instead, she stared into her hazel eyes, thrilled to see life where there had been none the other night on the yacht.
“How are you?” she asked. “How is Violet?”
“She’s wonderful,” Heather replied. “I can’t wait for you to meet her.”
“Does she look like you?” Suzanne asked with an excited smile.
After pausing thoughtfully for a few seconds, Heather shrugged. “I think she looks more like Brett. She’s got a ton of blond hair and a little upturned nose.”
Suzanne reached across the table and touched her hand. A look of warning from the guard reminded her of regulations, so she quickly pulled away. “I’m so sorry about everything,” she said. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you growing up.”
Heather wiped away a tear. “It’s okay. I understand everything. Brett told me everything.”
Suzanne felt a wave of surprise run over her. “He did? Everything?”
She nodded. “Daddy’s affair, the accident, the operation…”
Suzanne quickly attempted to defray the situation. “You know none of it was your fault, don’t you?” she asked her. “It was your father and I who failed.”
“But Victor was the one who fixed the brakes so we would crash that night,” Heather announced. “That wasn’t your fault.”
Closing her eyes, Suzanne caught herself reaching across the table again. The guard stepped forward and she turned with a look of frustration. “All right!” she said in frustration. Once she turned back to Heather, she was crying silently. “He was out of his mind. He tried to use us to hurt your father.”
“It’s over now,” Heather said. “We can be a family again. Me, you, Daddy and Benji.”
Suzanne smiled weakly. “You’re a grown woman now. You have your own family. A husband and a daughter who need you.”
“But we need you,” Heather said. “When are you going to get out of here?”
“It doesn’t look good,” Jordan said to Brett as they stood in the lobby outside. “The DA isn’t even authorizing an investigation into Victor’s actions. Without that, it’s just a case of Suzanne guilty of murder and me guilty of covering it up.”
Brett ran his fingers through his hair and folded his arms. “What about a bribe?” he asked. “Maybe we can luck out again and get something on the DA.”
Jordan shook his head. “The guy’s got money coming out his ears. He’d probably add twenty years for bribery.”
“At least Heather is coping,” Brett remarked. “She took it pretty hard when I told her everything, but at least she knows the truth.”
Jordan rubbed the sides of his head and laughed in spite of himself. “If only I’d done that years ago maybe none of this would have happened.”
Brett shook his head in protest. “It wouldn’t have changed what happened to Troy, or Suzanne’s part in it. This is Victor’s doing, plain and simple. The truth will have to come out eventually.”
Jordan hoped he was right, especially since he had other troubles now. “I saw Detective Callahan this morning. Apparently I’m being fingered in yet another crime spree.”
“What do you mean?”
“Scott Kelly was attacked two nights ago. Alex ran her mouth to the wrong people about me beating up Frank Dunning. Combine that with that story about her and Scott having an affair and suddenly I’m the number one suspect.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Brett said. “You didn’t believe those rumors for a second. You knew it was publicity.”
Jordan laughed. “Somehow I don’t think Detective Callahan realizes what goes on in this town. She’s too busy being a pain in the ass.”
“Are you here to see my father?” Benji asked when he opened the door and found Detective Callahan standing on the porch. “Because I don’t know or care where he is right now.”
“I did come to see him, but if you don’t mind I’d like to ask you a few questions,” Stephanie said.
Benji shrugged indifferently, retreating back into the house and leaving the door open for her. She followed him into the living room where he’d been engaged in a game of Star Wars Unleashed. Half empty bags of chips and a dozen empty cans of soda were strewn about the usually meticulously decorated room. She noted where her feet were positioned, taking care as not to step in any of the various spills and piles of discarded garbage.
“Is this about my mom and that lunatic Victor Distefano?” Benji asked. He wore a pair of nylon athletic shorts and no shirt, an LA Galaxy baseball cap pulled tight down over his face. “Because as far as I’m concerned, she can stay in prison forever.”
Stephanie noted his hostile tone. “No, actually it’s about Scott Kelly. He was found nearly beaten to death outside his home the day before yesterday.”
Benji did his best to appear nonchalant. “Scott Kelly? That action movie guy? Wow, seems like he’d be able to hold his own in a fight.”
Stephanie watched as he picked up the controller and resumed his game. “We think he was taken by surprise. Either that or someone used a weapon to get the advantage on him. His injuries were pretty severe.”
“That sucks,” was Benji’s brief reply. He assumed Scott had ratted him out as the culprit, so he did some fishing. “Did he see who jumped him?”
She shook her head. “He hasn’t remembered anything. That, or he’s not talking because he’s trying to protect someone. Although I can’t imagine why he’d want to.”
Benji couldn’t help but feel relieved. “So what do me and my dad have to do with it?”
Glancing around the room, Stephanie noticed two empty beer cans resting beside the sofa. She knew he was only eighteen, well below the legal drinking age. She didn’t pursue it because it seemed a mute point anymore. This family had more important things to deal with, and despite what Jordan Rydell thought, she wasn’t a total bitch.
“I know that your step-mother was allegedly sleeping with the victim,” she said. “I can’t imagine your father was too happy about that.”
It was a feat in itself for Benji to keep from laughing at the incredible irony involved. The affair between Alex and Scott was nothing more than a publicity stunt he’d suggested to keep the press from digging into Scott’s homosexual activities. Interesting that it had gotten so carried away that it now served as motive for a seemingly random beating. Still, he decided he could use it to his advantage.
“No, he wasn’t happy about it,” he said while pausing the game and lowering the controller. “Why do you think Alex doesn’t live here anymore?”
“Your father asked her to leave?” Stephanie asked.
Benji shrugged and adjusted his ball cap. “That, or she was afraid of him.”
Stephanie raised an eyebrow. “Afraid?”
“Well, I mean she thought he’d killed my mom. Then there was that whole thing with Frank Dunning.”
“You knew about your father’s attack on Dunning?”
“Frank told me,” Benji said. “I was afraid too, but I stayed because I wanted to give my father the benefit of the doubt. Even after—”
“After what?”
He chose his words carefully, summoning just the right amount of vulnerability to inflect in his voice so as not to come across as too eager to point the finger. “Nothing,” he said and looked away.
“What?” Stephanie pried. “If it helps in this investigation…”
“My father used to beat me,” Benji said with no remorse for what his lies would accomplish. “When I was a kid. I thought it was just me he took his aggression out on, but when Frank told me what he’d done to him…” A pause while he gauged the detective’s reaction. “And now you’re telling me someone beat Scott Kelly up too?”
She thanked him for his time and left the house through the front door. Benji stood in the doorway watching as she drove away in her car. The corners of his mouth turned upwards until they formed a devious smile.
Across town at the Blackthorne mansion, James stood on the terrace that jutted out from the family room. He looked up at the sky and noted that a bank of dark clouds were rolling in from the mountains. Maybe the rain would wash away some of the misery that the earthquake had left in its wake, he decided.
“I think Miranda is going to be fine eventually.”
He had almost forgotten that he had company. Turning, he leveled a look of hopefulness on Jackie Lamont.
“I hope you’re right,” he said solemnly. “I saw the look on her face at the hospital this morning when they took off her bandages. She was expecting a miracle and instead she came to the realization that it’s not over for her.”
“But the work Dr. Gutman did was a miracle,” Jackie insisted. “In time the scars will disappear. They’re not even that bad now. Believe me, I’ve known many women who’ve had plastic surgery, and this doctor performed a miracle.”
“Miranda doesn’t see it that way,” James replied. “She has to learn to live with imperfection and I honestly don’t know how she’s going to handle that.”
Jackie put a comforting hand on his arm. “You’ll help her get through,” she said, deciding to take the opportunity to get closer. She swayed her body toward him, ruffling his hair with her fingers, and brushed her lips against his neck.
She could feel him responding so she doubled her efforts. The moment was interrupted, however, when T.T. appeared in the doorway of the terrace.
“James, I have to talk to you,” he ordered, dropping the newspaper on the patio table in front of him. “Did you know about this?”
He picked up the folded up newspaper and read through the story on the front page of the Hollywood section.
Angel Assassin Sequel Jinxed? the headline read in big block lettering. Below it were headshots of the four main stars: Alex, Victor, Scott, and Kelly, as well as the director, Frank Dunning.
“The press is unrelenting,” Jackie observed over his shoulder.
“But are they right?” T.T. demanded. “James, we’re supposed to be coming to a deal to secure rights for the movie’s soundtrack. Artists from Titan Records, my own damn company. How do you think it will make me look to be associated with a movie that they’re calling a jinx?”
“It isn’t as bad as all that,” James pronounced and looked at the paper again.
“Are you kidding? Frank is dead, Victor went off the deep end, Scott was beaten to a pulp, Kelly took off to parts unknown, and Alex is….” A pause while he considered his words. “Well, Alex is Alex.”
“This can’t be anything but good news for the picture,” James told him. “T.T., you’re in the record business. Leave the movie business to me. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”
“You’d better,” T.T. warned him. “I don’t want to regret doing business with Sunset Studios.”
James put a hand on his shoulder and led him inside the house. Jackie followed. “As soon as things settle down in the next few days, we’ll get together and sign the papers.”
“Why can’t we do it now?” T.T. asked.
“Because I need David to sign as well. He does own forty percent of the company. He’s been difficult to get hold of lately, but as soon as I do we’ll get the ball rolling.”
“Doesn’t your uncle own part of the studio too?” T.T. asked.
James nodded. “Nathan does own five percent. But I have power of attorney. I vote his shares in the company.”
“All right, we’ll wait,” T.T. said and started to the door. He turned back before leaving. “But I’m warning you, James, if your movie takes me down with it, I’ll be on you so fast you won’t know what day it is.”
After he stalked off, Jackie placed a hand on James’s arm. She continued massaging his hair, hoping that in this time of stress he would turn to her for comfort. Once that happened, she would be on her way to becoming his wife and part owner of the mansion and the studio just as her father would have wanted it.
Eddie arrived just as T.T. was leaving. They passed each other blindly, each going in the opposite direction. Once inside the mahogany paneled foyer, Eddie darted up the stairs and paused outside Miranda’s bedroom. Raising a hand, he knocked lightly with the back of his hand.
“Who is it?” she called from inside.
He pushed open the door and poked his head inside. “Can I come in?”
Sitting at her vanity, Miranda turned away from the door and continued examining her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t know whether she wanted to see him or not. After a minute of hesitation, she decided to avoid answering all together.
“Stormy said the surgery went well,” he said, deciding to forge ahead and enter the forbidden zone. “It looks amazing.”
Miranda stared at the bruises and the puffiness. Yes, it looked better, but she was far from perfect. Even after the tissue healed she wouldn’t be perfect.
Gauging her reaction, Eddie took a few tentative steps forward, the tips of his fingers resting in the back pockets of his jeans. “Aren’t you happy, Miranda?”
She stood up with a sigh and walked across the room. “Yeah, sure. I’m happy.”
After waiting a few moments, he followed her. “Well, you don’t look happy. What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “What the hell kind of question is that? Look at me. I’m going to be scarred for life.”
“The scars will go away,” Eddie insisted.
“When? In six months? In a year? What am I supposed to do until then?”
“You can’t hide away in your bedroom forever!” Eddie exclaimed.
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms angrily as she plopped onto the edge of her bed. She didn’t even bother responding to his outburst. She could, and she would hide for as long as it took.
“What are you even doing here, Eddie?” she found herself asking. “I mean, why do you care? “
“Because I do.”
“But why?” she asked, shaking her head. “I know you don’t look at me the same anymore. It’s okay, really.” Her voice was full of hostility. ”You were the dork who thought he’d made it when he scored with the hot chick. Well now the hot chick is a hideous freak, so don’t feel guilty for changing your mind.”
He regarded her carefully. “Is that what you think?” he asked. “That I wanted to score with a hot chick?”
“I know you did.”
“Let me tell you something, I’ve scored with plenty of hot chicks. Plenty! And when I scored with you, yeah, I thought you were hot and I was feeling like a stud because I’d gotten you into bed, which no one ever does because you’re Miranda Blackthorne, but you know what the difference was?”
“No,” she said, arms still folded belligerently.
“The difference was I knew you were more than just a piece of ass with a pretty face,” he went on. “I got to see behind that plastic façade at who you really are.”
“Nice image,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Plastic façade. That was more true now than ever.
Eddie stepped closer to the bed. “You honestly don’t think you have anything else to offer other than your looks, do you?” he asked in disbelief. “That’s why you pushed me away at the hospital despite how close we’d gotten before the earthquake.”
“Look at me!” Miranda exclaimed and jumped to her feet. “Why would you want this?”
Shaking his head in aggravation, he turned and walked to the door. He left hastily, slamming it closed behind him. Miranda squeezed her eyes shut and cursed herself for being so stupid. She was doing it again—pushing him away because of her own stupid insecurities. Her heart began aching as soon as he disappeared from view; her stomach in knots in fear that this time she’d succeeded in driving him away for good. She’d wasted so much time denying how she felt about him because of how uncool she thought he was or because of what a dork she thought he was. Now it was probably too late. She’d finally pushed too hard.
Just as she began to sit back down, the door sprung open again and Eddie raced back inside. Her head snapped up, eyes wide in surprise.
“I’m not going to say this again,” he bellowed, pointing and gesturing. “I don’t care what you look like. A few scars aren’t going to scare me away. I just lost my dad after finding out he was a total nut job, my eighteen year old brother and all of his bad habits have moved in with me, and all of the sudden I don’t even notice when babes are checking me out. The only thing I really give a crap about right now is you, Miranda, so drop the martyr act and deal with it!”
Barely blinking, Miranda stared at him with wide eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find anything appropriate enough to say to him after his outburst. When he rushed forward and kissed her softly on the lips, she realized that words weren’t necessary. She put her arms around him and kissed him in return, relieved that he’d come back.
Hotel guests strolled about the grounds at Moonshadows, weaving through the paths connecting the cabins and bungalows that emptied out next to the pool and tennis courts. Clouds rolled into the area, casting a shadow on the once bright and sunny day.
After changing into a summery halter and white shorts, Angela Warner decided to take a stroll around the grounds of the sprawling resort before the storm came. When she came to the tennis courts, she spotted Malcolm and Sierra engaged in a strenuous match that appeared to be nearing completion.
“You’re good!” Malcolm called to Sierra from across the court. “Just how long have you been playing, anyway?”
“I took lessons at my boarding school,” she replied nonchalantly, meeting him at the side where they’d left their bags. “I won three championships before my sophomore year.”
Malcolm gave her a wry grin, lifting his shirt and wiping his sweaty face. “I think I’ve been duped,” he said playfully.
“Sore loser!” Sierra mused and gave him a shove.
“That doesn’t sound like the Malcolm I know,” said a voice from behind the metal fence.
They both turned as Angela made her way along the fence to the opening. When she appeared on the court, Malcolm approached with surprise, his arms outstretched.
“It’s about time!” he said, clamping his muscular arms around her and hugging her tightly. “I was wondering when you were going to show up. You were pretty vague about it when you called last week.”
She shrugged, winking coquettishly. “I like to keep people on their toes,” she teased, then turned her sights to his tennis partner. “Hello Sierra. Good to see you again.”
“Hi Angela,” Sierra replied. “What are you doing here?”
“Came to see T.T.,” Angela replied, one hand resting on Malcolm’s arm, “and this guy. I was beginning to think you were never coming back to New York.”
“Our trip’s been extended a few times,” Malcolm said, glancing back at Sierra. “It’s been one thing after another.”
“Riiiight,” Angela said, the tip of her finger clamped between her teeth. “The earthquake was all over the news. I was frantic until I was able to get a hold of T.T. Thank god you all came out of it okay.”
“We almost didn’t,” Sierra piped in. “I was trapped in that hotel. Luckily I was with someone who risked their life to—”
“Angela probably doesn’t need to hear all the tragic details,” Malcolm said, cutting her off intentionally. “Like she said, it was all over the news.”
Sierra regarded him with surprise. She was sure he’d shut her up for a reason, and it was glaringly obvious that reason was Benji. It seemed that he had gotten so insecure that any mention of his name set him off. It was ridiculous.
“Anyway, I’m so glad to see you, Malcolm. You too, of course, Sierra. You know, I met your mother last night. Rita, right?”
“Renee,” Sierra corrected her. She was used to Angela’s snarky attitude, had learned not to take it personally as it was just her personality, but still grew tired of it quickly. She’d only met her a couple of times back in New York, often getting a weird vibe from her. Still, being that she had been dating T.T., she tolerated her.
“Okay, yeah, Renee,” Angela said with an indifferent sigh. “What’s the story with her and T.T., anyway? All he said was that they were old friends.”
“They met a long time ago,” Sierra explained. “Before he and Malcolm’s mother got married. They were an item for a short time.”
“Wow, that was a long time ago.” Angela said, the jab about her and Renee’s age difference too obvious to ignore. “So listen, I want the two of you to join T.T. and I for dinner tonight. I haven’t decided where. Somewhere decadent, I think.”
Malcolm looked at Sierra and shrugged. “Fine with me. How about you, babe?”
Sierra nodded in agreement. “Sure. That sounds fine.”
Renee finished having lunch with Marilee Wells-Walker at the Yacht Club, kissed her on each cheek and waved goodbye in the parking lot. A burst of thunder echoed far in the distance and she looked up, sensing that a big storm was on its way.
She made her way to her car and grabbed for the handle when a hand reached out and touched her shoulder. She shrieked, turned, and glared when she realized it was T.T. standing before her.
“What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?” she asked, placing a perfectly manicured hand on her heaving chest. “T.T., what are you doing here? Are you following me?”
“No, I had a meeting,” he explained. “I came out and saw you getting into your car. Renee, please just talk to me. I don’t think I explained things very well last night.”
“Oh, you explained them all right,” Renee hissed. “I’ve come to realize that you’re untrustworthy. I can’t believe anything you tell me. I was a fool for agreeing to have dinner with you in the first place.”
“Angela means nothing to me,” T.T. insisted. “Not anymore. You have to believe that.”
“I didn’t get the feeling that she shares that point of view with you. How many women have you lead on since Julia? How many while you were with Julia?”
He shook his head angrily, preventing her from opening the car door. “It’s not like that. It’s been you that I’ve wanted all these years.”
“Me?” she shrieked. “Boy, you’re about as subtle as a mule. How dare you stand there and tell me I was the one you wanted, because if that were true then you would have been honest with me about Julia and about Angela instead of waiting until I was in love with you to spring it on me.”
“I don’t want it to end like this.”
She shook her head and looked at him sadly. “Stop worrying about us. Go to Angela. She’s probably waiting for you.”
With that, she got into her car and sped off away from the marina.
The rain began pouring from the sky just as he got back to his suite at Moonshadows. He walked inside, still irate about his conversation with Renee and how stubborn she was being. He was through trying to convince her. He was through chasing her.
He found Angela soaking in a luxurious bubble bath in the enormous tub, light jazz music emanating from the overhead speakers.
“I thought you were going to get your own room,” he said crossly, standing in the bathroom doorway while removing his tie.
“They’re all booked,” Angela said with a pout, lifting her leg from the water and stretching languorously. “So I decided to take a bath. Care to join me?”
T.T. groaned, annoyed, turning to leave the room when she called after him.
“Don’t pretend you don’t still want me,” she said, her dark skin wet from the steamy water.
“I don’t,” T.T. insisted, turning back to her. The steam and the humidity went straight to his head.
Angela smiled. “You remember how good it was, don’t you?” she asked, sitting up and allowing her breasts to peak from beneath the water. “Come on. Forget about that nipped and tucked priss. She could never do to you what I do.”
Arousal finally too intense to ignore, T.T. stalked across the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the tub. He put his arms around her and drew her into a passionate kiss. Angela went to unbutton his shirt, rubbing her hands over his chest and succeeding in pulling him into the tub with her. He shed his wet clothes and made fast, hurried love to her, the whole time thinking about Renee and how much he wanted it to be her.
Downstairs, Alex paced about her suite, still fuming over the events of the past few days. She lit a cigarette and blew a stream of smoke into the air, hastily pouring herself a glass of sherry.
She couldn’t remember being so angry in her entire life. The insulting way that James had treated her at the hospital, the convenient way Jordan blamed her for all of their troubles, not to mention Stormy’s overreaction to her attempts at helping him. Why was it that the men in her life were all suddenly against her?
The doorbell rang and she stubbed out her cigarette, almost afraid to find out who it was. Knowing her luck it was Nathan Blackthorne coming back to wreak more havoc on her life. That was all she needed to make this week suck even more.
Traipsing over to the door, she pulled it open with a certain amount of fanfare. Standing in the hall was a young man in a suit and holding a briefcase.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked, taking a drink from her glass as her eyes narrowed on him.
“Alex Reynolds?”
“Who’s asking?”
“These are for you,” the young man said before turning and disappearing down the hall.
Alex frowned, closing the door and quickly opening the envelope. To her surprise, enclosed were divorce papers from Jordan. She knew he was angry but she hadn’t expected him to act so quickly. Were they really about to end their marriage for the second time? It was her third all together. When was she going to get it right?
Returning to the bar, she lit another cigarette and refreshed her drink, this time straight vodka. After downing it with two big swallows, she felt no better. Fuming, she went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. She searched through bottles of prescriptions, analyzing the labels and reading the suggested usages until she came to a bottle of muscle relaxers. The bottle was nearly full and she couldn’t remember why she’d gotten them in the first place, but it was lucky she had them because today she needed something to take the edge off.
Lighting illuminated the sky amidst sheets of rain, flooding the dry streets and grassy lawns surrounding the Blackthorne mansion. Stormy proceeded up the stairs just as Eddie emerged from Miranda’s bedroom.
“I see you took my advice,“ he called up to him, happy that he hadn’t let Miranda alienate him completely.
Eddie gave him a good-natured slap on the back when they met on the middle landing. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I was just about to call your cell.”
“What’s up?” Stormy asked. He could tell by the sound of his voice that it was serious. “Is it about Kelly? Have you found her?”
“Yes,” Eddie replied. “I just got a call on some feelers I put out a few days ago.”
“Where is she?” Stormy asked, running his fingers through his jet black hair, anxious to find out where his bride had disappeared to.
“New York City,” he told him, handing him a slip of paper with an address scribble on it. “She’s working here as a model.”
Without hesitation, Stormy grabbed the piece of paper from him and tore up the stairs to his room. There was no time to waste, he decided. He was determined to find his missing bride and make her come back. Then his mother would have to deal with the consequences.
Eddie remained on the landing, looking up at his friend and hoping he wasn’t about to walk into a situation he would regret.
When he reached the front door, Jordan was standing on the porch about to ring the bell. They both paused, gauging one another’s reactions before staying a word.
“Eddie, hi,” Jordan said. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I was just stopping by to see Miranda.”
Eddie dug his hands into his pockets and gestured to the stairs as a crack of thunder echoed through the house. “Oh, well, she’s up in her room.” He attempted to skirt past him so he could leave. “Okay, see ya.”
Jordan turned and stopped him from darting out into the rain. “Eddie, wait,” he said. “How are you doing? How is Blake?”
Shrugging, Eddie stepped back up onto the porch. “I’m okay. Blake’s a little messed up right now, but I guess that’s to be expected. He was always closer to Dad than I was.”
Jordan couldn’t help but feel for the young man. Despite how maniacal Victor was, he was a father to two children that loved him. Now that he was gone, and Sylvie was off who knows where, they were alone.
“If there’s anything that you ever need, please let me know,” he said. “I want to help.”
“Thanks,” Eddie replied. He paused, arching one eyebrow in hesitation. “They find him yet? His body, I mean.”
Jordan shook his head solemnly. “They’ve been dragging the marina for a couple of days, but no luck.”
“Yeah, but you’re sure he’s dead, right?”
Jordan pressed his lips together and nodded a silent reply.
Eddie sighed, turned out toward the driving rain, and forced a goofy smile on his face. “Well, I’d better get going.”
He watched as he turned and raced to his car parked under the porte-cochere. He, for the first time, felt like the lucky one in all of this. His children were still alive and they were still a family, dysfunctional as they were. Eddie and Blake hadn’t fared as well.
The condo shook from a loud thunderclap, startling Heather as she made her way through the living room after laying Violet down for a nap. She went into the kitchen and put on a kettle of water, deciding that a hot cup of tea would sooth her frazzles nerves that had begun to eat away at her since the storm started.
While she waited for the water to boil, she went to the balcony and stared out at the driving rain. It came down in sheets, washing away in rivers along the ground below. Boats at the marina swayed back and forth in the wind, bobbing on the surface of rain-pummeled water.
The sound the rain made when it hit the ground struck a familiar note in her mind and she began recalling the terrible night in the car with her mother. She’d never had a clear vision of what happened, but for some reason it now seemed as real as if it were happening at that moment. The windshield wipers working feverishly, the blinding headlights of the semi that careened toward them, the sounds of her mother crying as they drove away. Then the horrible sounds of metal scraping against metal as the impact pulled the car to the edge of the cliff. They were trapped.
“You have to climb out the window,” Suzanne said, her breath coming in quick, shallow spurts.
“No,” she whimpered.
“You have to get out, Heather!” Suzanne cried as the car teetered on the edge of the cliff. “Roll down the window and climb out. We’re still close enough to the edge that you can climb out and jump down.”
“Mommy, I can’t!” Heather cried, frozen in her seat.
“Do it!”
Suddenly, the semi began a freefall, crashing down the jagged cliff until it exploded into flames on the rocks below. The car broke loose from where they’d joined, but it was too late. The weight had pulled them off of the cliff and the car fell through the air and landed in the choppy waves below.
The sound of the phone ringing snapped Heather back to reality. She took a deep breath to clear her mind, walked across the room, and lifted the receiver from the counter.
“Hello?” she said, still staring outside at the pelting rain. She grew silent while listening through the receiver. Suddenly, her eyes glazed over and she became unfocused. The phone fell from her hand.
In her trance-like state, she went into the bedroom, collected Violet and wrapped her in a blanket. She returned to the living room, picked up her keys, and left the condo.
Inside, the phone receiver dangled to the floor, a fast-busy signal emanating throughout the room. Moments later, the kettle on the stove began to whistle.
Next time….
Stormy locates Kelly in New York City, but she isn’t happy to see him. Eddie’s actions confuse Miranda. Heather puts Violet in jeopardy. Stephanie agrees to help Jordan. Alex’s troubles continue.
sunsetstudiosinc.com 