Crown Jewel (13 page)

Her voice sounded so triumphant, Max and Tyler believed her implicitly.

“She's telling you the truth,” Wally said, speaking for the first time.

Tyler and Max climbed out of the pool, their eyes wary. They stayed as far away from Gracie as they could. She laughed. “Sometimes, size
doesn't
count.” The wicked gleam in her eye was all the boys had to see before they raced into the house.

“Do you mind if I walk through your house, Mr. Lam? I won't touch anything. My brother can help you make breakfast.”

“Sure, make yourself at home,” Ricky said.

Gracie moved from room to room until she came to the staircase leading to the second floor. She crept up silently and made her way down the hall in the direction of the voices she could hear. Her face flushed and her ears rang as she listened. Eavesdroppers never heard anything good about themselves. She clenched and unclenched her fists. Hot tears pricked at her eyelids as she bit down on her closed fist, and yet, somehow, a sob escaped. She turned and fled.

Max saw her rounding the corner of the hall that led to the staircase. “Well, shit, Bro, we just blew that one. I think it's safe to say Miss Gracie Lick heard our unflattering résumé of her abilities as well as her character.”

Tyler sighed as he pulled on a pair of plaid shorts and a wrinkled tee shirt that said
HARD ROCK CAFE
. “Okay, let's go apologize. I didn't mean all that stuff we were running our mouths about. I was talking to hear myself because I didn't want to think about facing Pop. Come on, Max, shake it.”

“She's a loose cannon,” Max grumbled as he slipped his feet into scuffed Birkenstocks.

The table was set in the kitchen, and pots bubbled on the stove. “Wally is making breakfast, or maybe it's brunch. It's food,” Ricky said, eyeing his sons, his gaze going from them, then to Gracie, who was sitting at the table with her hands folded.

Sitting
silently
.

“No thank you,” Gracie said to her brother, as he was about to ladle the concoction he'd been stirring onto her plate. “I'll wait till you eat, then I think we should leave,” she said quietly.

Wally looked at her, seeing something in her eyes the others failed to see. “We can go now, Gracie. I'm not hungry either.” He set the pot back on the stove before he moved to his sister's side. “I'm ready if you are.”

Gracie stood up and held out her hand. “Thanks for bailing us out. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Lam. Is this the address where I should send the check?” She pointedly ignored Tyler and Max.

Nonplussed, Ricky nodded. He stared at his sons when the door closed behind brother and sister.

“This is just a guess on my part, but I think you have about two minutes to make this come out right. I'd go for it if I were you.”

They almost knocked each other out as they tried to get through the open doorway at the same moment. He watched from the window as they caught up with Gracie and Wally near the pool.

“Hey, Gracie, hold up,” Max called. Gracie ignored him. Max made the mistake of reaching for her arm and found himself heading back into the water. Gracie stopped long enough to say, “You really are an
oaf.”

Inside the house, Ricky groaned. No wonder his sons didn't have serious relationships. He walked to the door, heard the Beetle cough and sputter before the engine caught. Gracie slipped it into gear and chugged down the driveway, only to return within minutes to demand that someone open the gates. He turned around to press the remote when he saw his sons race to the back of the car. With the horsepower generated by 360 pounds of body weight they pushed the Beetle to the pool and, with one herculean shove, sent it into the deep end.

“I hate your guts, you rich piece of shit!” Gracie sputtered as she surfaced.

“I'm not real fond of you, either,” Max said. “Get out, you're stinking up our pool.”

Ricky watched the byplay and knew he was getting old. If this was a mating dance, he wanted no part of it. Young people today confused him.

Wally Lick was pissed. Tyler could see it in his face. Max could see it, too. They both backed up until one of the poolside tables was between them and Wally.

“You aren't worth it. Gracie is right, you're nothing but a rich, walking piece of shit breathing air other people need to live,” Wally said venomously as he took his sister by the hand and led her down the driveway. The three Lams watched as Wally lifted up his sister so she could scale the gate. Then he climbed over himself.

“I hope you two are proud of yourselves. Get your asses in here and tell me what's going on.
Now!”
Ricky thundered.

“Don't you want us to go after them and see that they get home okay? We have to pay them for the car.” Tyler cringed at the murderous look on his father's face.

“And you have to pay to have said car removed from the pool plus your bail plus my two suits and plus a lot of other things. In the house!” Ricky thundered a second time.

“Talk!” he said.

They jabbered about their plan to confront Dicky Tee, then they apologized. “We thought it would work,” Tyler said.

“It's not a bad idea. Go after them. See if you can get them to come back. You get more flies with honey than you do with vinegar. You're old enough to know that. I have an idea I need to think about. Take the Blazer.”

Out of his depth, Ricky dialed Roxy's private cell phone. The tenseness in his shoulders eased the moment he heard her voice. Something was happening to him where Roxy was concerned, even though he still wasn't sure about her motives.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

He told her, then listened to her laughter. “Welcome to fatherhood a little late in the game, Ricky.” She went off into another peal of laughter.

“The best part is, I think she has a thing for Max. I think he has one for her, too, he just doesn't know it yet. I think I miss you, Roxy.”

“You think?”

“No, I do. Miss you that is.” He waited to see what she would say. His heart almost leaped out of his chest when she said, “I keep looking around expecting to see you, but you aren't here. I guess that means I miss you, too.”

Yesss!
Ricky's fist shot in the air. “Uh-oh, I hear the Blazer. They must be back. I'll call you later.”

Ricky sipped at his now-cold coffee and waited while the four sorry young people walked into his kitchen. He took his time looking at them individually for a minute, hoping to unnerve them. “Sit down,” he said, his voice ringing with authority. “Don't talk until I tell you to talk.”

They sat, their lips clamped together.

“It's a given that we will replace your car, Gracie. In fact, if you are amenable, I'll sign over the title of the Blazer to you. My sons, and yes, they are my sons, will reimburse me for all your expenses as well as their own. In addition to that, I'd like to make you and your brother an offer. You can take it or leave it, the decision will be yours. When I relocated to Antigua, I closed up the house and the grounds and paid off the people who worked for me. I can see now that I need someone to take care of things. I'm offering you the caretaker's cottage beyond the pool. It has three bedrooms, three baths, a living and dining room, and a kitchen, of course. You'll be responsible for keeping up the property, seeing that the electronic fence is kept oiled, the lawn cut and trimmed. And the pool needs to be taken care of. You will have the use of the pool and the tennis courts. I'll pay you both a decent wage, so you can give up your jobs and concentrate on your schooling. A school bus stops down the road, so your sister will not be a problem. In return for this, I want you to write a story as soon as possible so that it hits the wires in order to take the wind out of Dicky Tee's sails. I'd like to see the article in the
L.A. Times
as opposed to your paper, Gracie, but I'll take whatever I can get.”

Gracie squared her shoulders. “It sounds like both a bribe and charity at the same time. Why would you do all that for us? You don't even know us.” She looked at Max and Tyler, who had the good grace to look away.

“Everyone needs some help along the way. In this case, supply and demand. I was going to call an agency to hire a couple to maintain the house and grounds anyway. I need to get my story out before Dicky Tee gets his book out. I can handle the studio and the movie deal that is pending on my own. I help you, and you help me. It's a win/win situation from where I'm sitting. If you need more of an incentive, think about this. You'll be home with your sister in the evenings. You won't be working all night and sleeping during the day, and you'll have a steady paycheck. You can carry more credits and finally get your degrees. I'll pay you a month in advance.”

“I suppose you want our answer right now,” Gracie said.

“The sooner the better,” Ricky said.

“My brother and I need to talk about it. We make our decisions together. Excuse us.”

Outside in the bright sunshine, Gracie looked up at her brother. “They're watching us, so make it look like we're disagreeing. My God, Wally, this is the answer to all our problems. We can actually live here and not trip over each other. Annie will have the pool and the tennis courts. We can sit out here and study. I won't have to work for that ugly paper, and you can give up smelling like a distillery. Our only expense will be our food. We won't be eating macaroni and cheese three nights a week. And gas. That Blazer looks pretty good to me. What do you think?”

“Okay. We need to find out what the salary is. What about our lease?”

“Our lease will become Mr. Lam's problem. He seems like a nice man, Wally. Unlike his sons.” Her voice rang with bitterness. “I hate their rich-ass attitude.”

“Okay, let's do it. Can you get the story in the
L.A. Times?
That's what he seems to want.”

“A piece of cake. I know three different people who know six different people who can go the distance to get it in there. I can do it, Wally. Annie is going to be so happy. Maybe we can get her into a good Ivy League college. That would be so great!”

“Here they come,” Ricky said.

Gracie did the talking. “We decided to take you up on the offer for our sister's sake. We do have a problem, though. We have six months to go on our apartment lease, and we can't afford to break it. You'd have to be responsible for that. We also need to know what the salary is.”

“I'm willing to take care of the lease. How does five thousand a month sound for the two of you? If you want to leave the Blazer in my name, I'll continue to pay the insurance. If I sign it over to you, you pay the insurance. There's a phone in the caretaker's cottage. You pay for your own long-distance calls. Water, electric, and heat are included in the deal. I'll throw in a perk. A ten-day vacation yearly at one of our resorts for the three of you. You okay with that?”

“We're okay with it. Keep the Blazer in your name,” Gracie said.

“Then we have a deal. Now, when do you want to start working on your article?”

“I can start on it this afternoon. I'd like to go home and change my clothes. I need to get a photographer I know to come out here for some professional shots of the three of you. I also need to call the people I know at the
L.A. Times
. We need to quit our jobs, and one of us has to be home when Annie gets in from the library. I can be back here by three o'clock.”

“Let's do it!” Ricky stood up, his hand extended. Gracie didn't look at either Max or Tyler as she headed out the door with her brother.

Ricky eyeballed his chastised sons with a jaundiced eye. “I have an appointment with my brother's lawyer and have to leave right now. I want this kitchen cleaned up by the time I get back, and while you're at it, clean up my room and my bathroom. Then I want you to sit on your hands and not get into any more trouble until I get back. Do we understand one another?”

Both young men nodded, their eyes miserable.

“Good. Then you will see me when you see me.”

Forty-five minutes later, Ricky was sitting in Tim Andreadis's office. He got right to the point the minute the amenities were over.

“Something has come up, Tim, and I need some advice.” He told him in short, curt sentences about Dicky Tee, his son's attempts to waylay the tabloid reporter, and of Gracie Lick and his plan. “Look, I don't give a hoot about what that scumbag writes about me because he's done it before. The studio put him up to this to get even with me. Everyone in the know will see through that. What I care about are Tyler's and Max's grandparents, Roxy's daughter Reba, and defiling Philly's memory.

“Roxy finally gave me permission to go through Philly's room at the house. I was wondering if you have a key to the Medeco lock Roxy said Philly had installed on the door. Where's his stuff, Tim? I'd also like to know why Philly had you write Roxy a letter telling her not to try to enter that room. What the hell is in there? What was my brother hiding?”

The lawyer leaned back in his chair and stared at Ricky, an uncertain look on his face. “I don't know, Ricky. I just did what Philip asked me to do. I do not have a key, nor do I know where he kept his personal effects. I assumed it was that room.”

“You don't like Roxy, do you, Tim? Did you ever take the time to get to know her?”

Andreadis pursed his lips. Ricky thought he looked like he'd just bitten into a lemon. “No, I really didn't know her. I only know what Philip told me, and, yes, that colored my opinion of her. I also didn't like the way she acted at the reading of the will. She's a gold digger, Ricky. That type never changes. The daughter now, that's something else. Philip was good to her, but he had mixed feelings where she was concerned. Once he said to me, like mother like daughter. Does that answer your question?”

“I like Roxy. A lot. Maybe more than a lot. She told me some really strange things about her marriage to my brother. Did you know they never, ever, slept together? Did you know it was a marriage in name only? Did you know that single-handedly, she ran those two resorts? What that means is she worked like a damn dog while Philly sat around and looked important. I can prove all this, Tim. Philly's life, from what I understand, defies belief. I don't want that tabloid reporter getting downwind of anything that has to do with Philly. Will you please tell me what the hell was going on?”

“Your brother did not confide his secrets, if he had secrets, to me. All I did was handle his business affairs, of which there were many. Even if he had told me things, I'm bound by confidentiality. What I will say to you is, I don't think it's wise for you to get involved with Roxy, which is what I think you're doing.

“Do you want me to file an injunction to try and stop the publication of the book? I can do that, but then you open up another can of worms. Suddenly, everyone will want to know what it is you're hiding that you don't want to come out in a book. I think your idea to beat the man to the punch and do your own story is a good one. Whatever that story may be. Hollywood is very forgiving, as you must know.”

Ricky licked at his dry lips. He was right back where he started. He stood up and looked down at the attorney, who was still sitting. “We hadn't been close for years and years, but I miss him,” he said simply. When the lawyer didn't respond, Ricky walked to the door. His hand was on the doorknob when the attorney finally spoke. His voice full of anguish, he said, “Philip was insanely jealous of you. He never said those words, but I could see it. And, yet, he did his best to take care of you the way he thought you should be taken care of.”

Ricky turned to look over his shoulder. He didn't say a word or respond to Andreadis's declaration. He closed the door behind him.

In his car with the window rolled down, Ricky cranked the stereo system to the max and peeled out of the parking lot. He wasn't going to think about what the lawyer said. Not now, maybe not ever.

 

The three men watched her climb out of the Blazer, their expressions full of awe. She was dressed in a trim pumpkin-colored business suit and high heels. Her briefcase was leather, scratched and scarred, but still chic. Her shoulder bag was Chanel. Little did they, or anyone else, know that everything about Gracie Lick was either secondhand or a knockoff. In what little free time she had, she shopped at secondhand stores where the rich and famous recycled their clothes and accessories. Her thick, red hair was piled high on her head, giving her, along with the heels she wore, added height. She adjusted her designer sunglasses, while she waited for a mangy-looking photographer named Jonas to join her. The little group continued to watch as Gracie waved her hands about, evidently telling him what she wanted photographed.

Gracie Lick was lookin' good. And she knew it.

Ricky opened the door and motioned for Gracie to enter with the photographer. She blatantly ignored Max and Tyler. She reeked of professionalism when she made the introductions. The photographer merely grunted.

“Let's head for the study,” Ricky said. He hated discord, he really did. He motioned for everyone to take a seat. He winced when Gracie placed a tape recorder in the middle of the coffee table. Once words were spoken, they couldn't be taken back. He nodded to show it was all right for her to turn it on.

Gracie whipped out a pen and flipped back the cover of a steno pad. She posed her first question and waited.

Max and Tyler, while they knew some of the story of their father's life, listened with rapt attention. At times their expressions went from shock, to disbelief, to horror, to admiration. The man they thought of as Pop was baring his soul, and they didn't want to miss a word.

At eight o'clock, Ricky held up his hand to halt the interview. “Let's call it a day and pick up tomorrow afternoon. You can work with Max and Tyler in the morning or wait until afternoon. I have some things I have to tend to in the morning. Would you like to go to dinner with us, Gracie?”

Gracie looked over at Ricky, her dark eyes unreadable. She shook her head as she packed her recorder and steno pad into the scarred briefcase.

“Come on, Gracie, you have to eat,” Max said, hoping to wipe away the day's negative activities and emotions.

Gracie whirled around, her dark gaze on both brothers. “Let's be clear on this,
Mister
Lam, I wouldn't go to a dogfight with you, much less sit at a table. That goes for you, too,” she said, jabbing a finger in Tyler's direction. The sound of the lock on the briefcase
snicking
into place was the only thing to be heard in the otherwise quiet room. She jerked her head in the photographer's direction. “Good night, Mr. Lam.”

Max's voice was defensive when he said, “She's like a Jekyll and Hyde. One minute she's a whack job, the next minute she's downright ugly, and, following that, she turns into a professional know-it-all.”

Ricky stood up, stretched his arms, and worked his neck to loosen the tight muscles in his shoulders. He stared down at his sons. “You hurt her. Women are very unforgiving when you attack their vulnerabilities. I suggest you find a way to set things right with her. I like Miss Gracie Lick. I also like her brother. Right now I like them more than I like you two. Both of you have had it too good, and don't bother to deny it. Neither one of you could go out there and kick and scratch to make ends meet. That's because neither one of you ever had to do that. Gracie and her brother work together as a team, and they take their responsibilities seriously. They have a sister to take care of, and they've been doing it the only way they know how. I admire both Gracie and her brother. You two, I do not admire.”

Both brothers looked uncomfortable. “What do you suggest we do?” Max asked quietly. They had just been reduced to a fat zero in their father's eyes with six little words.
You two, I do not admire
.

“Oh, no, you're on your own, and you get no advice from me. Just remember this, for every action there is a reaction. It's all about accountability. Yours. Now, are we going to dinner or not?”

The dream was a bad one. He was standing on the edge of a cliff with a rope around his waist. He looked over his shoulder at Philly. “Are you sure you have the strength to hang on to it?” he shouted to be heard above the wind and the crashing waves down below.

“Don't you trust me, Ricky? Didn't I promise you and Mom that I would always take care of you?”

“Yes, you did promise, Philly. Are you sorry you made that promise? Are you sorry you're so honorable? Tell me the truth, do you hate me?”

“You hit the magic jackpot, Ricky. Yes, yes, and yes.”

“Why? You're going to let go of the rope, aren't you?”

“You don't know that, Ricky. Why did you say that?”

“Because I'm afraid of you. I can't see inside you, Philly, the way you can see inside me. We're brothers, and I don't know who you are. I never knew who you were. I'm taking this rope off now. I'm not coming back here till I find out who you are.”

“It doesn't work that way, Ricky. You do what I say when I say it. If you don't, I'll let you flounder for all the world to see. Now, put that rope back around your waist.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Take your damn rope and stuff it, Philly. I'm not jumping off a cliff because you tell me to do it.”

Ricky woke, sweat pouring down his face, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel his whole body trembling.
What was that all about?

It wasn't light out yet, but he could hear the early birds chirping outside his window. It was a sound he loved. The beginning of a new day. He rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand: 5:20. He might as well get up, shower, shave, have some coffee, and head for Roxy's house. He wasn't going to think about the dream he'd just had.

Thirty minutes later he was pouring his first cup of coffee. He looked up to see both his sons standing in the doorway. He wondered if they, too, had had bad dreams. He asked.

“No, we just heard you moving about. Last night you said you were going to your brother's house this morning. We want to go along. Three heads are better than one.”

“All right. Wait a minute, what about Gracie?”

“She's not coming till this afternoon. We'll be back by then, won't we? We can always postpone until tomorrow if we find the mother lode you're looking for—your brother's secret files. There are telephones, you know.”

“Still defensive?” Ricky said, staring at his son.

Max shuffled his feet. “Yeah, I guess so. Ty and I are going to head on back to the islands tomorrow morning. Unless you need us to stay on.”

“I think I can handle it. If we do the photo ops this afternoon, you're good to go. I don't want either one of you holding back. If you have something to say, I want you to say it. Is that understood?”

“How do we know Gracie won't…? Hell, she can paint us any way she wants just to get even with us.”

“You
don't.
You're going to have to rely on Gracie's professionalism. She's not who you think she is. I wish you two would get that through your heads.”

“I'll drive,” Tyler said. He hated seeing the look of disappointment that was on his father's face. It was obvious that Max felt the same way he did.

An hour later, following his father's directions, Tyler drove up a long, horseshoe-shaped driveway. Father and sons piled out of the car.

“I could count on one hand the number of times I've been here. Three altogether, I think,” Ricky said.

“Why is that?” Max queried.

“Philly never invited me. Roxy didn't like me. The three times I did come here I was either drunk or stoned. I wanted to fight with Philly over something. Maybe he thought I would taint this hallowed ground. I think we went to two ball games. We managed dinner once or twice a year. It was very stressful. I think we both tried to avoid direct contact with each other.”