In Cold Blonde (10 page)

Ryan and Syd drove to the Hollywood station.  Syd knew something was
up.  Ryan had been unusually quiet.  She’d expected him to finish the
conversation he’d started before his ex-wife called.  What could be a more
provocative opening then,
I need to tell you something
?  But they’d
driven in silence while her imagination rifled through a horrifying catalog of
possibilities:
We have to stop dating.  I want a new partner.  I’m
going back to my ex-wife.  I have herpes.

  Finally, unhappily, Syd prompted him.  “What was it you had
to tell me?”

Ryan looked at her, confused; he’d been so preoccupied with the upcoming
meeting with Anne that he’d blanked.  “I’m sorry, sweetie, what?”

“You said you had something to tell me.”

Oh yeah, Ryan thought.  The Lotto ticket.  He briefly
reconsidered, almost ashamed by the truth.  Then glanced at Syd, at the fear
in her eyes.  Of course, he realized, she assumes I’m going to say
something about us.  The last thing in the world he wanted to do was hurt
Syd, so he took a breath then told her about the garrulous guy in greasy
coveralls who took forever in the 7-Eleven buying beef jerky, a six pack and a lottery
ticket with his one dollar change.  And how, after the tow truck driver
left, Ryan bought a pack of Rolaids and walked into the parking lot to see the Lotto
ticket on the ground and the tow truck driver getting in his vehicle.  It
would have been easy for Ryan to pick up the ticket and get the guy’s
attention, but his stomach hurt and Ryan was so annoyed with the big-mouthed
driver that he just let the guy drive off.  Then he picked up the Lotto
ticket and stuck it in his glove box.

“The Lotto ticket may be worth millions of dollars,” he concluded. 
“But it’s not mine.”

“Holy shit.”

“And then some.”

Syd sat back in her seat and let the implications settle in.  “Let
me ask you a few questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Was there a name on the tow truck driver’s coveralls?”

“Probably, but I didn’t notice.”

“On his truck?”

“I’m sure, but I didn’t pay any attention.  Same for the license
plate, I didn’t even look.” 

“So you have no way of tracking him down?”

“No.”

“And did he ask the clerk for certain numbers or was it a quick pick.”

“A quick pick.”

“So the tow truck driver would have no idea what the numbers were or that
he actually bought a winning ticket?”

“That’s right.  And it was six months ago, I doubt he even remembers
buying or losing it.”

Ryan had been through the identical thought process countless times
himself since he found out the ticket was a winner, but it was nice to get
someone else’s take on his dilemma.  

“So no one would ever know that you didn’t buy the Lotto ticket.”

“That’s right.”

  Syd liked to think she had a reliable moral compass.  
Well, except for murdering the motherfuckers who have done her wrong. 
And, like Ryan, she was a cop.  She knew the law.  “If I remember my
Academy law classes properly,” Syd said, “lost property, in this case, the Lotto
ticket, belongs to whoever owns it, in this case, the tow truck driver. 
Just because you find something doesn’t mean you now own it.  The law
requires that all lost property be turned in to the police.  If you keep
lost property and don’t disclose it, it’s theft.  That applies to a bag of
diamonds, an envelope full of money or a quarter lying on the ground. 
Finders are not legally entitled to be keepers.”

“Exactly.  Even when, like in this case, no one knows its lost
property.  Even when, like in this case, the lost item is worth millions
of dollars.”

“If you don’t
claim the money, what happens to it?”

“I don’t know.”

“So,
multimillion dollar question time; what’re you going to do?”

Ryan sighed.  “I don’t know.”  He pulled into the parking lot
of the Hollywood Division, turned off the car.  “I’m going to meet with
Anne at seven, get a legal opinion.”

Anger flared inside Syd.  She didn’t know Anne, didn’t know any of
the details of their marriage, but instinctively Syd didn’t trust her. 
“You sure that’s a good idea?  I mean, she’s your ex-wife, she could have
an agenda.”

Ryan realized Syd was jealous, though in his mind she had no reason to be.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

“Want me to wait for you here?”  Loaded question, he better, Syd
thought.

“If you don’t mind, I shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”

“No problem,” Syd said, relieved.  “I’ve got plenty of work to
do.”  Syd wanted to lean over and kiss him, but other cops were in the
parking lot so she just squeezed his hand and opened her car door. 

“By the way,” Ryan said, stopping her.  “What would you do?”

Syd thought about it for a moment.  “What would I do or what do I
think you should do?”

“What would you
do?”

Syd
smiled.  “It doesn’t matter, I don’t have the ticket.  You do.”

Ryan laughed.  “Bitch.  Okay, what do you think I should do?”

Syd may have only known Ryan for eight weeks but she felt she had a firm
fix on his moral compass.  This was a man who knew right from wrong. 
“There’s only one thing you can do,” she said.

That surprised him.  “What?”

“Think about it,” Syd said and shut the door.

“What kind of answer is that?” Ryan called after her. 

But Syd just smiled, turned her back and walked into the station.

It was all so confusing.  She felt so good, so
satisfied
. 
Alice could never remember feeling such bliss.  And it had nothing to do with
the three incredible orgasms – her first orgasms with a man.  In the
past they had all come from masturbation.

No, her joy, yes, that’s what she was feeling, joy, came from lying next
to a man she’d dreamt about for years.  And now she lay naked, entwined in
his arms as he slept peacefully.  A dream comes true.  Amazing.

This was the first truly good thing that had happened to her in
years.  Maybe ever, for that matter and she wanted to play it out. 
He was married, she knew, but she also knew that something happened to Adam, as
well.  She saw it in his eyes, the way he touched her, the way he kissed
her.  She wasn’t just another affair for him, she could tell.  He was
going to want to see her again, make her a part of his life.

And to her surprise, that’s what she wanted, too.  Time was limited,
of course.  But all the more reason to make every minute count.      

Alice slipped out of bed, grabbed her purse and walked into the bathroom
then quietly closed and locked the door.

She looked at herself in the mirror.  It always surprised her a bit
seeing herself as a hot blonde with green eyes.  In her mind’s eye she was
always the dumpy, brunette Alice.  But Alice had simply been the chrysalis
before her metamorphosis into the Lady in Red.   

She reached into her purse.  Her hand passed the Colt Vest Pocket
.25, passed the scalpel and grabbed her pill holder.  She took it out,
flipped open the afternoon dose, dumped the four pills in her hand: Arimidex,
Tamoxifen and Cytoxan for the cancer and Aprepitant to control the
nausea.  She washed them down with sink water.

Seemed like a waste of time to her, but the Doctor said miracles
happen.  And now, suddenly, she wanted to milk this life of hers for every
additional day. 

She peed, winced a bit as she wiped.  It was a little tender down
there.  Overuse, she thought, smiling.  But the discomfort brought
back the memories of that night eleven years ago when the pain was so agonizing.

It started so innocently.  Alice had earned a scholarship to Camden
Hall, a top of the line private school for the prodigy of Orange County’s
wealthiest residents.  She was sitting under a tree in the high school
quad reading the latest Harry Potter.  She heard laughter and looked up to
find three boys looking at her: Adam Devlin, Colin Wood and Blake Hunter. 
They were seniors, like her.  Adam, of course, she knew.  The fateful
bus trip to the Getty Center was only a month before and she was seriously,
albeit secretly, in love with him.  She’d seen Colin and Blake
around.  They were BMOC, handsome but spoiled sons of rich fathers who hung
with the cool kids.  Alice was on scholarship since her parents made so
little money.      

The three boys were looking at her, whispering among themselves, laughing,
and then Colin and Blake shoved Adam in her direction.  With an annoyed
glance back at his friends, Adam reluctantly walked up to her.

Her heart did flip-flops as Adam got closer. 

“Hi,” he said as he knelt down next to her.  “It’s Alice, right?”

“Right,” she said, so nervous she was barely able to
speak.           

“My friends and I – you know Colin and Blake, don’t you?”

“I’ve seen them around.”

“We’re having a party later at Colin’s house.  We wondered if you’d
like to stop by.”

She couldn’t believe her ears.  She wanted to scream, yes, but
fought to stay cool.  “Tonight?”

“Yeah, say seven o’clock.”

She was free, but wanted to stay cool.  She pretended to consider it
for a few moments, then said, “There are a few things I’ll need to move around,
but I’d love to come.”

Adam gave her the address, and then returned to his friends who greeted
him with high fives.  That struck Alice as a little odd, but she ignored
it and started thinking about what she was going to wear.

Alice spent the rest of the day deciding between skirt or jeans? 
Heels or sandals?  Thong or boyshorts?  She finally decided on black
jeans, her favorite blue tank top, black boyshorts and her rainbow strap wedge
sandals. 

She was hoping to sleep with Adam.  At least be able to jerk him off
or blow him.  All the boys she did it with told her how good she was, so
if she could impress Adam, well, before she knew it she could be finally be
hanging with the cool kids. 

So with sex a distinct possibility, Alice sprinkled a little J’adore by
Christian Dior on her nipples and pubes for a little unexpected treat for Adam.

She arrived at seven-fifteen; can’t seem too anxious after all.  The
house was a typical ten-thousand-square-foot Orange County McMansion.  She
was surprised that there wasn’t a line of cars parked on the street.  School
parties tended to attract big crowds.  She rang the doorbell and Colin
answered.  He had a beer in one hand a joint in the other.

“Alice,” he said, all smiles.  “So glad you could make it. 
Come in, come in.  We’re in the game room.  My dad’s in Cabo so we’ve
got the house to ourselves.”

He led her through the sprawling house to an oak-paneled room dominated
by a nine-foot pool table.  Adam and Blake were in the middle of a
game. 

“Hi,” Blake said. “Can I get you a drink?”

She looked at Adam, the only boy she really cared about, but he was
preoccupied with lining up a shot.

“Yeah, sure,” she said.  “I’d like a coke, diet if you’ve got it.”

“Want a little rum with that?”

Alice had had a few glasses of wine before, beer and drinks with some of
the boys she’d dated, but never really liked it.  But she didn’t want to
seem a prude, so she said, “Sure.  Rum and coke it is.”  Then she
looked around, confused. “Where is everyone?  I thought there was going to
be a party.”

Colin and Blake exchanged a look.  “More kids are coming later,”
Colin said.  “But we wanted a chance to get to know you first.” 

Blake handed her a rum and coke.  “Cheers.”

She clinked her glass with his beer and drank.  The rum and coke
didn’t taste too good.  Too much rum, not enough coke, she guessed. 
Oh, well, she thought, maybe it’ll help me relax.  She took another big
sip.

“You play pool?” Blake asked. 

“No,” she said.  “It looks like fun, though.”

“Adam,” Blake said.  “Why don’t you show Alice here how to hold your
shaft – I mean cue.”

Colin and Blake snickered as Adam shot them a disapproving look. 

Alice caught the double entendre; a couple of warning bells went off in
the back of her mind, but the thought of spending time with Adam was too
tempting.  “Please, Adam,” she said.  “I’d love to learn to play
pool.”

“All right,” Adam said finally looking at her.  She saw something in
his eyes, what was it, regret?  “Here,” he said handing her a cue. 

She had her drink in her right hand.  She moved to set it down.

“Just go ahead and finish your drink, Alice,” Colin said.  “I’ll
make you another.”

Alice downed the rest of her drink and handed Colin her glass.  “Not
so much rum this time,” she said. 

“Sure, no problem,” Colin said, grinning.  “Rum and coke, light,
coming up.”  That got another laugh out of Blake who joined Colin at the
bar.

“Okay,” Adam said.  “The key to a good pool shot is the
bridge.”  He spread his fingers on the table forming a circle with his
thumb and index finger.  “You try.”

Alice spread her fingers, but as she tried to form the circle, she was
hit by a wave of dizziness.  She looked at Adam, but his face blurred, and
then she felt herself falling.

All she remembers next are fragments. 

Hands pulling off her clothes...

Blake’s face looming over her…

Cold hands on her bare skin as she was dropped onto the pool table…

Her legs being spread…

Whoops of laughter…

Sharp, stinging, pain…

She woke up hours later.  She was alone in the game room.  A
clock over the bar said it was three-thirty.  She was on the pool table,
naked.  Her clothes were scattered on the floor.  She climbed off the
table then crumpled to the ground as pain swept through her.  Her head spun
and she vomited.  She hurt everywhere, her head, stomach, her vagina, her
butt. 

Dear God what did they do to her?

Terrified, humiliated, she scrambled into her clothes and staggered out
of the house.  Tears ran down her face as she drove home.  Alice
snuck in the back door and crept silently into her room.  She wasn’t going
to tell her parents what happened.  She wasn’t going to tell anyone.

Then she found out about the video.

Back in the hotel bathroom, Alice touched up her lipstick. She heard the
TV come on in the hotel room.  Adam must be awake.  She slipped into
the plush white terrycloth hotel robe and stepped into the hotel room.

Adam was on the bed, the remote control in his hand, channel
surfing.  “I must’ve dozed off,” he said.  He grinned.  “No
surprise, you wore me out.”

Alice laughed, slid onto the bed next to him.  “That makes two of
us.”

He kissed her sweetly.  “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.”   She kissed him, playfully sucking his lower
lip.  “Now, you promised me some food.  I’m starving.”

Adam looked around, spotted the room service menu on the end table,
handed it to her.  “Order the five most expensive items on the menu.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

She scanned the menu as Adam went back to the TV.   “Hey,” he
said, turning up the volume.  “I know him.”

Alice glanced up to see a clip of Colin Wood on the TV.  “Hollywood
actor, Colin Wood, was murdered last night in the parking lot of Havoc, a
Hollywood nightclub,” the announcer said.  “Witnesses say he was seen
leaving the nightclub with a blonde woman, she is being sought by authorities for
questioning.”  The picture cut to video of a building on fire.  “A fire
engulfed a warehouse in Culver City…”

Adam muted the TV.  “Unbelievable,” he said.

Alice enjoyed watching Adam’s reaction.  He was shocked for sure; if
he only knew.  “Was he a client?” she asked.

“No, no, we went to high school together.  He was a really great
guy.”

“Were you friends?”

“Oh, yeah.  We had some good times.  Crazy times.”

“Tell me.”

Adam shook his head.  “Just stupid high school stuff.”

Alice wanted to probe further, but sensed that now wasn’t the time. 
“Did you stay in touch?”

“No, we drifted apart when we went to college.  I’ve seen him in a
few movies, since then, always meant to call him, say hello, congratulate him,
but never did.”  He shook his head.  “Murdered, wow.”

“Guess you’ve got to be careful who you pick up in bars these days.”

“Tell me about it.”  Then he turned back to Alice.  “Good thing
I met you in a parking lot.”

She smiled.  “Much safer.” And then she kissed him.