Lovers and Liars (18 page)

With Belinda, it was harder. Damn the Worths for giving her that million-dollar trust anyway. It gave her just enough financial independence. But it hadn’t stopped him from manipulating her through other means. Rod Barnett had been easy: money. Abe had finally paid the bum to walk out of her life, That and the threat of some physical impairment, Other manipulations had to be psychological, as with Adam Gordon. And then there was her career—her would-be career. By ruining the sale, he kept her vulnerable. One day she’d have to turn to him for help with her career—and he would gladly make her a success. For a price. An heir.

Rosalie buzzed. “Will Hayward’s here to see you.”

Abe felt irritation. A quick glance at his calendar told him Will didn’t have an appointment. Now what in hell did he want? “Send him in.” His instincts were warning him that this was no social call.

Will walked in, a slight, slim man with a receding hairline. “Hi, Abe.” His smile was quick and nervous.

“You look like shit, Will,” Abe said, meaning it. “You’d better get off that damn cocaine and booze, or you’re gonna wind up six foot under.”

“Abe,” Will said, wringing his hands. “Abe, I need a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“I need a small loan. Five grand would do it.”

Abe started laughing. “You gonna give me some bullshit about how you’re gonna take a vacation in the Caribbean?”

Will just looked at him.

“After the way you fucked up,
after Detective Smith
, you expect me to support your drug habit?”

“It’s not for drugs,” Will said intensely. “Abe, please. We go back a long way.”

“Will, you go check into some rehab program, and then I’ll think about it.”

Will’s face hardened; his nostrils flared. “Abe,” he said trembling, “I’ve done a lot for you.”

Abe threw back his head and laughed. “You’ve done for me! That’s funny! Real funny!”

“All right,” Will said, his voice hard. “Look at it this way. I know about Smith, what happened—in detail. And I know about other things too. I mean, take Senator Wilkie, for example. Take the Lazarus contracts with the Pentagon. Take—”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I need the five grand, Abe, but I’ll pay it back.”

“You’re blackmailing me?”

Will took a step back. “You fucking owe me, dammit!”

“You know, don’t you,” Abe said, his face red with rage, “that if I fall, you go down with me?”

“Not necessarily,” Will stammered.

They stared at each other, Abe’s rage and incredulity growing. Hayward was threatening to go to the cops, the Bureau, the DA, whoever, and make a deal. Turn state’s evidence and make a deal. The fucking idiot. The no-good little prick. Abe smiled. And reached for the intercom.

“Rosalie, bring me five G out of petty cash. Now.”

27

J
ack cruised the black Ferrari slowly down the block, approaching Beverly Hills Day School. Kids were streaming out, fanning away in both directions, mostly walking in groups of two and three, maybe four. His eyes scoured them all, looking for Rick.

He thought about Melody. He was no longer shocked. Now he could smile slightly. She had been red as a beet, saying she didn’t want to spend the night alone. She had fled his office. Later she had apologetically told him it was just stress, making her say something so strange. Jack understood. He’d said and done a few things under stress too. Still, to be practically propostioned by Melody … It was so unbelievable he had to smile again.

Thank God he was on his way to Tucson tomorrow. He was dying to get back to work. It had been almost five months since the
Berenger
shoot, and he wasn’t the type to adjust well to prolonged vacationing. In fact, he hated it. How much fund-raising could he do? Five months, and he was sorry he was locked into an exclusive contract, but it was almost over …

Five months.

He couldn’t help it, but every time he thought about finishing that
Berenger
shoot he thought about the North-Star party and he thought about
her
.

Her
. The blond broad who had stood him up.

The cockteaser.

It was the first time in his life he had ever been stood up, and even now, months later, he was furious just thinking about it. Just who in hell did she think she was? Just who in hell was she anyway? Shit! Not that he gave a goddamn!

He remembered waiting and waiting at Nicky Blair’s.
His anticipation had never been so high. He’d been so intense and so focused on her that he hadn’t even been able to flirt with the women who’d tried to come on to him. He was having a lot of fantasies, explicit, graphic fantasies, the foremost one being his holding her head in his large hands while he prodded past her lips with his huge cock …

The anticipation became sprinkled with slight foreboding. Souring. Anxiety drifted over him. He began scanning the entrance. Every time the door swung open his spirits lifted, only to come crashing down when it wasn’t her. Until he knew. Until he knew the bitch was standing him up.

She had stood him up.

First she hadn’t known who he was; then she had stood him up.

Unfuckingbelievable.

And he didn’t even know who she was. Not that he cared. He could find out her identity in one minute if he did care, but he didn’t, so he wouldn’t even bother.

He spotted his brother just coming down the steps of the school. The cool-down that began was a relief. He was leaving for Arizona tomorrow, leaving Rick behind. He was worried not just because Rick needed guidance and parental authority, not just because he didn’t quite trust him, but because the kid needed him, Jack. He needed someone to spend time with and show him some caring. Rick was indifferent most of the time, and the rest of the time he was hostile, but Jack understood.

He didn’t know why, but after Janet’s unwelcome visit he had started thinking about what she had said, about his having a brother and sister. At first, whenever his mind had dared to veer in such a direction, he had purposely, adamantly shut off his thoughts. He wasn’t interested in
her
kids. No way.

Except, wasn’t he her kid too?

There was a blood connection. It seemed to compel him. He had finally given in and hired Peter Lansing, considered one of the best free-lance private investigators in L.A. And Lansing had come through quickly.

He had arranged for a top lawyer to handle Rick’s case
separately from those of the other kids involved in the gang fight. And the same lawyer had arranged for Jack’s custody prior to legal guardianship and also for Rick’s probationary release into Jack’s custody prior to his hearing.

The first time he had met his brother had been in Juvenile Hall. Jack felt a tremendous pang upon entering the cold corridors and was swept back against his will to another time, another place, when he was twelve and tough and alone and frightened. Not that he’d shown anything but bravado to the cops and lawyers and social workers who refused to leave him alone. And all for stealing a car! Thank God he’d been caught. It had changed his life as surely as Rick’s life was going to change now.

Rick had been sitting in tense and hostile defiance with the lawyer and a police officer when Jack walked in. The resemblance struck him first. Rick had the same face, the same green eyes. Unlike most adolescent boys, his face wasn’t gawky and out of proportion, but perfectly formed—beautiful in youth. He stared at Jack with open anger.

“Hi,” Jack said softly, momentarily overwhelmed. “I’m your brother—your half brother.”

“Fuck you,” Rick said. His eyes blazed.

Jack looked at the lawyer and the officer. “Can I see him alone?”

“He’s all yours,” the lawyer said, with a shrug.

Jack sat down across the table from Rick. “Whaddya want?” Rick snarled.

“I want to help you,” Jack said honestly. He was stunned because of the surge of warmth he was feeling for a brother he’d never laid eyes on before. The feelings were new and strange, wonderful and frightening, the kind of feelings he’d never had before, not for anyone—love. The kid’s a delinquent, he warned himself. Trouble. Stay on guard.

“Fuck you,” Rick said. “I don’t want shit from you.”

Jack leaned back. “Do you want to go to a detention center? I mean, I can throw you to the wolves, and you can spend the next few years locked up in a prison for kids. Or I can buy your freedom and give you a home, while all you
have to do is go to school and act civilized and stay out of trouble.”

“I hate school, and I hate you too,” Rick said, but with less hostility. Jack could feel his mind working.

“Well, I don’t hate you, and I don’t know why you should hate me. After all, I’ve never done anything to hurt you.”

“Where were you—Rich Man—when me and Mom and Leah had no money and no food and got kicked out of our place? Huh? Where were you then—Mister Big Star!”

Jack leaned forward, intense. “I didn’t even know about you and Leah until four months ago, Rick. Your mother—my mother—walked out on me when I was eleven years old.” He felt his anger rising. “I was like you, kid. I had no money and hardly any clothes and I spent all my time stealing on the streets. Janet entertained all her johns and didn’t pay any attention to me. One day I came home and she was gone—just fucking gone—her and all her things. I was eleven, Rick. Eleven and completely alone.”

Rick stared.

Jack was on a roll now, and he pointed at Rick, his voice hard. “So I know all about you, kid, and don’t think I don’t. I know who you are because I was you! And the reason I didn’t know about you and Leah until recently was because when Janet left me, that was the day she died, as far as I was concerned. Whether you believe it or not, that’s the truth. Now, I was smart. When the cops threw me in Juvie, I knew it was definitely not the way to go. I got placed in a foster home, and I played it cool so I wouldn’t have to go back to the slammer. If you’ve got any smarts, you’ll throw your lot in with me.”

Rick was silent for a few minutes. “So what’s the deal?”

“I want you to come live with me. I’m filing for legal guardianship. You have to go to school and pass your courses and stay out of trouble.”

“What do I get out of that?”

“You get food and clothes and a roof over your head.”

“Shit!” Rick spat out. “I got that without you!”

“You’ll have freedom, Rick.”

Rick was silent, and Jack felt he could read him like a book. He knew the kid didn’t trust him, but he also knew he had already seen the light. Finally Rick shrugged. “Why not? I’ve never lived with a fat cat before. What the hell do I got to lose?”

“Nothing.”

Now, driving along the street, Jack watched him. He was the only kid walking alone, a tough and pathetic figure in black jeans and a black denim jacket, striding hard past all the laughing camaraderie he so clearly wasn’t a part of. Jack felt his heart tighten in pity. Even kids who noticed Rick gave him a wide berth. Jack slowed even more as he pulled alongside. Before he could speak, Rick saw him. A dark, wary glance.

From somewhere undefined, there was a female shriek. “Jackson Ford!”

Jack frowned at the sudden hysterical chorus of his name. “Get in, kid!”

Rick jumped in just as a swarm of teenage girls came rushing to the car, crying his name. Pandemonium was about to break loose. Jack stepped on the gas amid cries for his autograph and hands on his car. One redhead jumped aside, and they were free.

God—he would never get used to it.

He would hate it if he didn’t keep his sense of humor.

Rick was staring straight ahead, his jaw working.

“They don’t bother you, do they?” Jack tried.

Rick still didn’t look at him. “I get lots of requests for your autograph,” he grunted.

Jack glanced at him. He hadn’t been aware of that. “That bother you, kid?”

Rick threw him a belligerent look. “No, why should it? I don’t give a shit.”

Jack stopped at a red light. “What happened?”

“Nuthin’.”

“Don’t hand me that,” Jack said sternly. “What the hell happened today?”

Rick shot him an angry glance. “It wasn’t my fault!”