Killer Cocktail (4 page)

six

The after parties at
the Oscars are a glitzier version of the high school bashes depicted in a John Hughes film; only the cool, rich kids are invited and even once inside those gilded walls, cliques still abound. The pinnacle of all these parties is, of course, the iconic gala hosted by
Vanity Fair
. Here the famous, the powerful, and the beautiful (and more often than not, a combination of all three) gather to gossip, celebrate, and network.

Nigel and I pushed our way past the throngs of press parked along Sunset Strip and presented our invitation to the alarmingly large, albeit polite, doorman. After he verified its authenticity, we were granted entry past the barricades and into the privileged sanctum beyond. My years on the force had left me more than a little cynical, but even I found myself starstruck at the scene before me. Here was Hollywood's elite, encircling me in a heady blur of expensive tuxedos, sequined gowns, false eyelashes, and tanned skin. As a variety of oldies songs played from hidden speakers, they mingled and congratulated one another all while scarfing down a seemingly never-ending supply of cocktails and cheeseburgers. The polite composure on display during the ceremony had been replaced with one far more casual. Shoes were removed; golden statues were employed as microphones, and outbursts of dancing were neither infrequent nor frowned upon.

Orbiting this celestial constellation was a steady stream of glam cigarette girls who cheerfully dispensed candy and e-cigarettes, the later being the only indication that we hadn't fallen through a wormhole and traveled back in time.

Nigel quickly snagged two flutes of champagne, and we made our way farther into the room. In one corner, I saw Steven Spielberg chatting with Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson. In another, Robert De Niro shared a joke with Ben Stiller. It was hard not to stare.

As Nigel and I helped ourselves to the complimentary cheeseburgers, Mandy approached us with a wide smile. The microphone she held earlier had been replaced with an e-cigarette. In her other hand was a glass of wine.

“Since when did you start smoking?” I asked her as she drew closer.

“About five minutes after the show ended,” she said. “That goddamn juice cleanse was like having a weeklong colonoscopy. I feel like I have to counteract it with a few weeks of really bad habits.”

“I don't see why people have such a hard time with juice cleanses,” Nigel said. “I think they're pretty easy.”

“Nigel,” I said with a shake of my head, “for the hundredth time, cranberry juice and vodka do
not
constitute a juice cleanse.”

Mandy gave a lusty sigh. “God, but wouldn't it be great if it did?” She took another puff of her cigarette and asked, “So, what did you think of the show?”

“It was a little long,” Nigel and I said in unison.

Mandy rolled her eyes in agreement. “When is it not? That should be its tag line ‘The Oscars—It's a Little Long.'”

I quickly pressed my finger over Nigel's mouth and turned to Mandy. “What about you?” I asked as Nigel laughed. “Were you happy with it?”

Mandy nodded and took a deep puff of her cigarette. “I got my interviews, and it ended on time. That's all I ever really care about. Of course, all anyone can really talk about is Christina's acceptance speech,” said Mandy. “Speaking of which, what did you make of it?” she asked, her eyes bright.

“Pretty gracious, all things considered,” I said.

Mandy gave an unlady-like snort. “Are you sure you used to be a detective?” she teased. “Because, if you ask me, it was payback tied up in a pretty gold bow. Karma is a bitch, and Christina just gave it John's address.”

“How so?” Nigel asked.

Mandy took a puff of her cigarette. “Because Christina managed to plant the idea in Jules's tiny brain that things aren't over between her and John.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Jules is in a royal snit,” said Mandy. “Not that
that
is anything new, of course. Jules Dixon has never been one to hide her emotions. Unless,” she added archly, “she's in front of a camera.” She then tilted her chin toward the back of the room. “The ‘happy couple' is over there,” she said. “If you look closely, you'll note that Jules is trying not to appear like she wants to throw her drink in his face, and John is surreptitiously collecting napkins in case she does.”

I glanced to where Mandy indicated. Jules and John were in the far corner of the room. They did not touch one another. They did not speak to one another. Eye contact was apparently also taboo.

“They don't exactly radiate joy, do they?” I said.

“Nope, they sure don't,” Mandy responded with a grin.

I glanced at her. “You certainly seem to be getting a kick out of this. Why?”

Mandy shrugged. “No reason, really. I just don't get the fascination with Jules.”

I made a rude noise. “You don't get the fascination with a twenty-something-year-old who has the body of a lingerie model and who was once described by an ex as being ‘a sexual ninja in bed'?” I asked. “Seriously?”

“Back up,” Nigel said, holding up his hand. “A sexual
ninja
? Is that good or bad?”

“Good,” Mandy and I answered in unison.

“Really?” he asked, his expression unconvinced. “I mean, to each his own and all that, but it sounds more risky than risqué. Those nunchucks can be deadly. Especially in the wrong hands.”

“That could be said about a lot of things,” I said.

“You do have a point there,” Nigel said. “In fact, it reminds me of a girl I once heard of who …”

“I just don't think John should get his happily ever after,” Mandy said interrupting. “Christina is a sweetheart, and she was devoted to John. I hate it when the men in this town think it's okay to trade in for the newer model. It's pathetic.” She turned to Nigel for support. “
You
wouldn't leave Nic and marry a younger woman, would you?”

“Of course not,” he replied, his tone appalled. Taking a sip of champagne, he added, “Do you have any idea how much weddings cost these days? It's obscene.”

“Mother always said to marry a man with good financial sense,” I confided happily to Mandy as I linked my arm through Nigel's.

Footage from the set of
A Winter's Tale
5/6/96

Two stunt men walk through the moves of the fight that is to take place in a dancehall. Mattresses are placed on the floor for the actors to land on and chairs that easily break are placed in the appropriate spots. The men slowly circle each other, alternately jabbing and ducking, turning the violence into a slow dance. The camera stays on them, but voices can be heard nearby. One is raised in anger. It is the voice of Melanie Summers. The other voice is muffled.

MELANIE

Are you serious? You can't be serious!

VOICE

I'm sorry.

MELANIE

You're sorry? You're
sorry
?

VOICE

Of course, I am. I don't like this any more than you do. But we have to be pragmatic about this.

MELANIE

Pragmatic? Did you just tell me that I have to be
pragmatic
?

VOICE

No, I said
we
have to be pragmatic. I'm not going anywhere. But this … this can't happen. Not now.

MELANIE (laughing)

Well, it's a bit late to decide that, don't you think? Because, news flash! It already did.

VOICE (calmly)

I know that, but it's also something that can be easily undone.

MELANIE

Easy for who precisely?

VOICE

Easy was the wrong word. But you can't tell me that you really want this. This movie is going to be epic! It will make us!

MELANIE

Oh, so now there is an “us” again. Funny how that word comes and goes. Just like you.

VOICE

That's not fair.

MELANIE

I'll tell you what's not fair! Not fair is being lied to. Not fair is being told that you matter when you don't. Not fair is being told that you have a future when you were just a fun time.

VOICE

That's not what you are …

MELANIE

You're a goddamn liar! You said it was over with her! You said you wanted to be with me! You said you would be with me! You promised me!

VOICE

I never promised you …

MELANIE

You did. (sounds of crying) You did, you bastard. You promised, you bastard, and I trusted you!

VOICE

Melly, shhh … keep your voice down. I do want to be with you. I just can't right now. Surely you have to understand that.

MELANIE

Oh, I understand perfectly! And soon everyone else will too.

VOICE

What's that supposed to mean?

MELANIE

It means I'm done. I'm done lying. And I'm done with you.

seven

“Let me introduce you
to Christina,” said Mandy. “You'll love her.”

I glanced over to where Christina sat. A few tendrils of her titian hair had escaped her chignon and now fanned out around her face. Her checks were flushed and her eyes were bright, either from the gold statue on the table before her or the martini glass beside it.

To one side of Christina, sat her twin brother, Sebastian. Although obviously not identical, there were some discernible similarities. They shared the same auburn hair and wide green eyes, high cheekbones, and taste in men. But whereas Christina was known for her reserved nature, Sebastian was just the opposite. He never met a microphone or camera that he didn't like, and as such was something of a darling of the tabloids. His long frame was sprawled in his chair, his right ankle resting on his left knee, and his left arm slung causally around the back of Christina's chair. With his right hand, he idly drummed out a rhythm on the linen tablecloth.

To Christina's other side was a woman I didn't recognize. Her blonde hair was arranged in a kind of puffy helmet. Her dress brought to mind a gruesome crime scene; blood red and seeming to go on forever. I guessed her to be about sixty-five, although I suspected that she'd punch me in the mouth if I actually said that out loud. Her skin had been pulled, her eyes had been lifted, and her lips had been plumped. The end result was a face that not only appeared to be at the mercy of a powerful g-force, but one that was also—and understandably—startled by the sensation.

“Who's that next to Christina?” I asked as we made our way to the table.

Mandy's lips twisted into a faint sneer. “That's Janice Franklin. Christina's mother.”

“I take it you're not a fan?”

“Hardly,” she replied. “The woman is toxic. She's done nothing but pimp out Christina since she was six months old. Christina didn't have a childhood; she had a job.”

“Not exactly a unique story in this town,” I observed.

“True. But we all thought that one day Christina would come to her senses and get rid of her. But Janice still serves as her manager, publicist, and, no doubt, her accountant,” she said.

“Well, she
is
her mother,” I offered.

“She's a bitch,” Mandy corrected.

I shrugged. “No one ever said the terms were exclusive.”

“What about Christina's father?” Nigel asked. “Is he in the picture?”

Mandy shook her head. “No, and from the way Janice tells it, he never was.”

“So, it was an Immaculate Conception?” I asked, laughing. “Wow. You certainly don't hear of too many of
those
these days.”

“That's not true,” countered Nigel. “It happened to a cousin of mine.” He paused. “And now that I think about it, a few girls in high school.”

“Don't be an ass,” said Mandy. “I just meant that he's not a factor in their lives. I don't know anything about him. No one does.”

Christina jumped to her feet when she saw Mandy approaching. Opening her arms wide, she cried out excitedly, “Mandy! Can you believe it? I actually won!”

Mandy laughed and walked to her, hugging her tight. “I told you you would,” she said.

“I honestly didn't think I had a chance this year,” Christina said. “I really thought they were going to give it to Meryl.”

Mandy stepped back and playfully poked Christina in her shoulder. “Nonsense,” Mandy said. “I knew you had it sewn up the minute I
saw that movie. You're always surprised when you win, which is one of the many reasons I adore you. Now, I know you haven't had a moment's bit of peace tonight, but I wanted to introduce some friends of mine.” Turning to us, she said, “Christina, this is Nicole and Nigel Martini. They're the couple that bought Frank's old place and fou
nd the videos.”

At the sound of our names, Sebastian's fingers ceased tapping, and Janice's head turned in our direction as if pulled by some unseen chord. Christina gave us a bright smile. “How lovely! I was hoping to meet you tonight. Won't you please join us?” she asked.

We said we would, and introductions were made. As we took our seats at the table, Sebastian deftly relieved a passing waitress of her tray of champagne cocktails and passed them around. I had just taken a sip of mine when Janice turned to me with a predatory smile. “I'm dying to hear all about these videos,” she said. “Where did you find them?”

“Boxed up in the attic along with some old Christmas decorations,” I explained. “They've just been collecting dust for the past twenty years. It's lucky we checked them. They could have just as easily been tossed out.”

“Twenty years,
”
Christina repeated with a sigh. “God, sometimes it feels just like yesterday. Well, until I look in the mirror that is,” she added with a wry laugh.

“Oh, shut up,” Mandy scoffed, “You've hardly aged a bit. Honestly, I don't know how you do it.”

“It's the olive oil,” Janice said. When we looked at her blankly, she continued. “My mother swore by its benefits for the skin,” she explained. “She called it ‘youth in a bottle.'”

“I thought that's what she called the scotch,” said Sebastian, his brows pulled confusion.

Janice shot him a censorious look. “Your Nana did no such thing,” she admonished.

“Well,
mine
certainly did,” said Nigel
.
“For a moment, I thought we might be related.”

Sebastian threw his head back and laughed. It was the same rich tenor as his sister's. “Oh, I think I'm going to like you,” he said.

Janice shot her son a quelling look before turning back to me. “So, have you watched them all yet?” she asked. “Danielle's videos, I mean.”

“No,” I answered, “It's going to take some time to get through them all, of course, but we're making progress. I'm looking forward to meeting Danielle. I've only spoken to her on the phone, but she said she and Frank would be here tonight.”

“I think I remember her,” said Sebastian slowly. Looking at Christina, he asked, “She was a little wisp of a thing, right? Long black hair; wore glasses?”

“That was Danielle,” said Christina nodding. “She was so shy. I
don't think I ever heard her say more than two words at a time. She reminded me of a little mouse; half the time you didn't even realize she was there. But, she's all grown up now. She recently started working for Frank, actually
.”

“Looks just like him too,” said Janice. “It's a shame, really because her mother, Zelda, was gorgeous.”

“She recently died, didn't she?” asked Sebastian.

“Just last year,” Mandy said with a nod.

“Wasn't she living in Italy?” he asked.

“In Bellagio. She moved back there after her and Frank's divorce,” Mandy answered. “Zelda never really liked Hollywood to begin with. She only came here because of Frank.”

“Oh, that's right,” said Christina. “Didn't he discover her on a beach somewhere?”

“Yes,” confirmed Mandy. “In Camogli, on the Italian Riviera.”

“Was she an actress there?” asked Nigel.

Mandy grinned at him. “No, she
was topless there.”

Nigel turned to me with an impish look in his eyes. “You know what I'm thinking we should do?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “But we're not.”