On the Avenue (22 page)

Jeremy, thrilled and honored, had even flown to Milan for an impromptu dinner with Alfredo Locasio. But two days later, while vacationing on Lake Como, Jeremy made the mistake of getting behind the wheel of a red Ferrari after too many shots of grappa. He'd been partying recklessly, hastily,
and
illegally. Speeding along one of the dark twisting roads, drunk as a senior on graduation night, he skidded off the pavement and flipped the Ferrari. By way of sheer miracle, he emerged from the wreck unscathed. In the pocket of his jeans, police found two ounces of marijuana and several tabs of Ecstasy. Within an hour he'd been arrested, processed, and booked. Felicia, who knew a high-ranking judge in the nearby city of Turin, had managed to douse the scandal before it made international headlines. She'd cut one of her secretive under-the-table deals, but Alfredo Locasio caught wind of the news and, fearing negative publicity, dropped Jeremy from the ad campaign.

Statements had never been made in the press. Jeremy refused to answer questions about why the mammoth contract had been pulled out from under him. It was one of those lukewarm Hollywood mysteries that raised only a few eyebrows, but both he and Felicia knew that if the story ever broke, it would
tarnish his rising star. He would never have gotten the lead role in his upcoming movie,
Knight.
His millions of young fans would have begun seeing him as a careless teenage druggie and not a promising young actor with an Oscar-filled future.

And now the past was coming back to bite him savagely in the ass.

It made perfect sense. Of course. He could still hear the cops' guttural shouts echoing in his brain:
When did you figure out what Ms. Bell was up to? When was the last time you spoke to her? Tell us what you know, Jeremy.
Thankfully, he hadn't responded.

Now he took the piece of paper from Felicia's hand. It was a grainy carbon copy that looked as though it had been faxed hastily. Jeremy read through the notes that were half typed and half written in what he assumed was Zahara Bell's hand. She had gotten every last detail correct; the bitch had pegged him as a druggie with a gorgeous face and abs of steel. It wasn't good. He looked at Felicia. “How did you get your hands on this? These are copies of Zahara Bell's actual notes!”

Felicia smirked. “They were leaked to me by one of my police sources,” she replied simply.

“So, how did Zahara find out about the Locasio campaign?”

“Probably through one of Locasio's people,” Felicia said. “But it doesn't really matter now. The word's out. The same excerpt that was leaked to me
was leaked to a few reporters. There's mention of it in the
Post,
along with everything else.”

Jeremy stifled a heave of tears. One stupid mistake and he'd be paying for it with the remainder of his career.
Good-bye to the chance of working with you, Mr. Scorsese. Farewell, Mr. Spielberg.
“Did that Bell bitch think she'd get away with this?” he said, suddenly angry. He held the sheet of paper up. “There's major damage here. This stuff could cost people millions of dollars. It could even cost them their lives!”

“It cost Zahara Bell her life, and it'll certainly cost the Hamiltons a lot.”

Skimming through the notes again, Jeremy found exactly what Felicia was referring to. He read over the details Zahara Bell had jotted in her messy scrawl about Madison Hamilton and Theo West, and the forbidden affair they'd had. “Oh, my God,” he whispered. “That can't be true. Everybody knows the Wests and the Hamiltons are enemies. Talk about the shit hitting the fan!”

“Yes,” Felicia said. “And it isn't even the affair itself that creates the problem. It's the fear that in the midst of their little tryst, Madison and Theo may have revealed corporate secrets to each other. It'll create quite the shake-up.”

“Can't they just deny it?”

Felicia frowned. “They can, but people like Zahara Bell don't publish this kind of gossip without
airtight sources. The affair between Madison and Theo is very likely true, just like the story about you is true. It wouldn't make any sense for you to deny it, because somewhere back in Italy, there's at least one piece of paper on file that proves you were technically arrested. But right now, believe it or not, this little bombshell is gonna help you.”

“Why?”

“Because it proves that several people had reason to want Zahara Bell dead, including the Hamilton triplets and Theo West.”

“And what about that guy—the paparazzo, Chicky Marsala? The police think I killed him too.”

Felicia shook her head. “He went to the Hamilton residence looking for
them,
not
you.
That says a lot right there. Maybe those girls aren't as innocent as they seem.”

An image of Park filled the empty space before him. Even now, exhausted and at the bottom of the barrel, he totally wanted to be alone with her. He felt Felicia's hand on his, and he turned his head to look at her.

“You can be honest with me,” she said gently. “Did you have anything to do with these crimes? Are you hiding any other secrets? Now's the time to talk, Jeremy. You can't afford any more surprises.”

He stared out into the waking dawn. He didn't answer.

Madison screamed. For the third time in less than ten minutes, she let out a high-pitched wail that practically rattled the windows and shook every chandelier in the penthouse. She was sitting on her bed surrounded by five open newspapers. The headlines were making her sicker than spoiled caviar and cheap champagne.

According to the
Post,
Zahara Bell's inaugural gossip column, slated to run in next month's issue of
Catwalk
magazine, was going to explode upon the
New York and Hollywood social scenes with the force of an atom bomb. Zahara's assistant had confessed all she knew to the police late last night and forked over what she had of Zahara's notes. And in those notes was the scathing truth about the relationship Madison and Theo had tried to keep hidden from the rest of the world, along with damaging comments about Jeremy Bleu and several other well-known actors, musicians, and models. The notes also included a few references to St. Cecilia's Prep, and how the school's “diploma-buying” policy spoiled its celebutante students.

There were four pages dedicated to the story. Madison stared down at the pictures of herself, Park, and Lex and felt her anxiety level soaring. Damn reporters hadn't really bothered with the fact that two major crimes had been committed; instead, they had exaggerated the whole chain of events, casting suspicion on the people Zahara had been planning to trash in her column.

And we're three of them.

Madison shut her eyes, holding back tears. It was okay to scream in frustration, but a spell of crying would do no good. Besides, she had already showered and applied her makeup. She had worked several extra minutes to conceal the dark circles under her eyes—the direct result of a sleepless night—and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She was wearing her
favorite pair of Habitual jeans with her favorite cashmere TSE tank top. She should have felt marginally comfortable. But as she hurled all the newspapers onto the floor, she felt only fury and fear.

It wasn't that the whole world now knew she and Theo had slept together. It wasn't even that Hamilton Holdings would suffer from all the negative publicity as a direct result of her carelessness. It was the simple fact that she had allowed her emotions to shadow her intellect, and that just wasn't her style. She'd known from the start—from the very moment their eyes locked and lit—that whatever passion she and Theo West shared would have harmful repercussions. But the threat of exposure had been no match for the fire in her heart. The danger of a personal meltdown hadn't eclipsed the attraction between them. Under the spell of his kiss, she had felt transformed, uplifted, nearly complete. She'd lost her ability to reason analytically.

And even now, with the whole mess splashed across the papers and everyone revving up to talk, Madison still couldn't deny her true feelings. She loved Theo West. She yearned for his attention, his affection, his touch. But it had nothing to do with sex. She was beyond the physical components of desire. He was the only guy who would ever understand her odd little insecurities, her fears and hopes and goals. He was the only guy who knew that she sometimes dreamed about
what life would be like without the cameras and the media coverage and the pressure to constantly be the best. One failure and the whole damn country heard about it. One simple mistake and it ended up on Page Six of the
Post.
Yes, she had been born into a world of unimaginable beauty and privilege, but fame had its price. Wealth had its price too. Most people would never understand the reasoning behind the occasional disenchantment, yet Theo did. And those were the moments Madison couldn't relinquish—the ones of true intimacy, when they'd spoken honestly and openly, exposing their innermost feelings to each other. She was certain she would never find that level of comfort with a guy again.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she wondered what he was thinking right now. Was he freaking out? Was he petrified of how his parents were going to react? Yes, of course. And what about Annabelle? She'd very likely freak when she heard the news.

And what about me?
she thought nervously.
What's Dad going to say? How can I explain this?

It was a mess. A total mess. Madison imagined the disappointment that would darken Trevor Hamilton's face when she admitted to him that the story in the papers was true.
Madi, how could you? I thought you had more sense that that. I thought I raised you to put duty before all else.
Just thinking about it broke her heart.

Gauging the depths of the whole scandal, however, twisted her brain.

The proverbial tangled web,
she thought. When you play, you pay. And Zahara Bell had played a little too hard this time around. According to the newspaper reports, the intent of that first gossip column had been to ruin lives, companies, entire industries. The affair between Madison and Theo, Jeremy Bleu's arrest, actor Sharon Donavitch's illicit affair with a preoperative transsexual mechanic—they were just the tip of the iceberg. It was no wonder Zahara Bell had been silenced.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door. Without waiting for a reply, Park and Lex walked in. From the looks on their faces, Madison knew they had already scoured the newspapers.

“Honey, I'm sorry,” Park said, coming around the bed and throwing her arms out.

“Thanks,” Madison replied. She welcomed the embrace. She held on to it longer than usual, then felt Lex's hands on her shoulders. The support lifted Madison's spirits instantly.

“Well,” Park said quietly, “I guess now we know why Julia Colbert Gantz was in Zahara Bell's town house at the same time we were.”

“She was looking for this stupid column!” Madison sniffed. “Maybe we should've wrestled her to the ground and gotten ahold of all her notes.”

They sat in a semicircle on the massive kingsized bed as the usual cacophony of Manhattan traffic drifted into the silence. Madison glanced at her sisters, recognizing the hard, fixed expressions on their faces. She was wearing the same one. It was the look of strategy, of tactical plotting. In just a few hours, there would be statements to make, interviews to grant, press releases to approve. There was a whole scandal they had to turn around and use to their collective benefit. Madison usually initiated duties like these. She knew Park and Lex were waiting for her to speak.

But before Madison could open her mouth, Lex stepped off the bed, crossed her arms over her chest, and sighed loudly.

“What is it?” Madison said. “What's wrong?”

Lex looked first at Park, then forced her gaze to Madison. “I stayed up all night trying to convince myself that what I found wasn't true, but it's important, Madison, and it'll eventually all come out into the open anyway.”

“What are you talking about?” Madison asked. She watched as Lex reached into the pocket of her pink silk robe, retrieved something from it, and then held her hand out. Madison felt her heart skip a beat. The small gold charm was all too familiar. She listened as Lex explained where it had been found, all the while feeling sicker and sicker.

“I don't know exactly what it means,” Lex said gently, “but it does place Theo West in my closet, and that's where the dress was stolen from.”

“My God,” Park whispered with a shake of her head. “So that
really
explains it. How the dress was stolen, why Zahara was killed. Theo was scared the column would be published and that everyone would know about the relationship, but instead of just killing Zahara, he plotted the crime so that it would be pinned on
us.
”

“The lengths people will go to when they're desperate,” Lex said quietly.

Madison got off the bed and slowly paced the room. She had never thought it would come to this. Why had she been so
stupid
?

“Unbelievable,” Park whispered. “And to think that Jeremy was taken into police custody. That
he's
the main suspect. I'll bet Theo planted that key on Jeremy Friday night at the gala.”

Just listening to her sisters was making Madison dizzy. They were building an erroneous composite of a crime. She knew that firsthand—and without a doubt. But admitting it would throw another dash of fuel onto the fire. Finally, she faced Lex and Park, squared her shoulders, and said, “Theo didn't kill Zahara Bell. There's a perfectly good explanation for why that charm with his initials on it was in your closet.”

“There is?” Park asked quickly.

“Yes. And it's totally embarrassing.” And then Madison told them. She told them about the unexpected rendezvous she and Theo had shared three weeks ago. How they'd spoken about things at school, and how she'd invited him back to the penthouse—an
absolutely, positively
forbidden move. There'd been no one home. Madison's bedroom, in the final stages of a renovation, was a mess, so she and Theo snuck into Lex's bedroom. It was supposed to be a chat, a gentle heart-to-heart. But Theo hadn't been able to contain himself and Madison had gotten those butterflies in her chest and before they knew it …