The room grew silent, and Aster stared at the wall before her, watching as Trena’s image was replaced with one of Madison rising to her feet in a daze as the wall slid open before them.
FORTY-FOUR
HEARTBREAKER
The entire time it took to drive from his photo shoot in downtown LA to RED in West Hollywood, Mateo Luna went over the long list of reasons why he should turn the car around and head home instead.
And yet, he still found himself parking on the street and standing before the big red double doors, which from all appearances seemed to be locked.
He ventured toward the sidewalk and squinted up and down the boulevard. He could’ve sworn Heather said the shoot was taking place that night, and that she and Ira would be there.
While he resented her bargaining on his behalf by trading his appearance at RED for his little sister getting better care, he’d since cooled down enough to realize he had no choice but to go through with his end of the deal.
He hated the idea of being in debt to Ira Redman, but at least by agreeing to take part in the shoot (no matter how grudgingly), they could each walk away and call it even. Or at least he hoped that was the case.
He tried the door. He was right; it was locked. And if anyone was in there, they weren’t responding to his knocks.
Deciding to send Heather a text to let her know he’d changed his mind and that he was waiting outside, he settled onto a bench and typed:
Thought you said you were filming at RED tonight. I’m outside if you still want me to take part. I’ll hang around a bit longer so LMK.
He waited for a response. He knew she was in there—he’d seen her car parked nearby. He’d seen Layla’s car and Ryan’s too, for that matter. And yet, they were inside while he was on the stoop, cooling his heels.
He frowned, checked his phone again, then got up and started to pace when he glanced across the street and saw Detective Larsen watching the building in an unmarked car.
What the—?
Mateo hadn’t even finished the thought, when his phone vibrated with Heather’s reply.
No reason to wait
It’s already too late
Please don’t you worry
Just go now & hurry
You’ve been nothing but sweet
I’m forever grateful we had the chance to meet
I’m going away for a very long while
Though I’ll always think of you with a smile
Despite what you may hear
For me, you were the one true thing I held dear
Mateo’s hands began to shake as he read the message again.
The rhyme reminded him of the ones Layla had been sent.
The picture Ira had taken with Tommy’s phone wasn’t meant to taunt him, but to warn him.
Finally, after all this time, the clues were falling into place in a way that made sense. Though the ominous tone of Heather’s message didn’t bode well for anyone locked inside with her.
He railed hard against the door. When it failed to so much as budge, he started toward the street, intent on alerting Larsen, when someone caught him by the back of the shirt and he turned to find Paul Banks standing behind him.
FORTY-FIVE
HERE’S WHERE THE STORY ENDS
Madison stood wearily before the glass wall, not the least bit surprised to see Heather Rollins holding her gun to Trena Moretti’s head. Though she was surprised to find Heather acting alone. She’d been convinced Heather had help. Then again, considering the body found in Joshua Tree and the one Paul left behind in Death Valley, it was possible Heather was the only one left.
Somewhere in a corner behind Madison, Ryan, Aster, Layla, and Tommy were huddled together, but she paid them no notice. This wasn’t about them. Never had been. They were merely pawns chosen by Ira and manipulated by Heather into her sick, twisted game.
When Aster had asked if any of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for the contest, Madison hadn’t known the answer. Though she’d since figured out a few things leading her to conclude that while Ira and Heather were both playing a game, the games they played weren’t remotely the same.
Heather had been after Madison from the first day they’d met, which wasn’t the date Madison had once thought. Turns out, their connection stretched back a decade or more.
“As you may have guessed, this won’t end well.” There was no use for disguise. Heather spoke in her own voice now.
“It doesn’t seem likely,” Madison agreed.
“I’ll never forget how you looked at me in the car. You weren’t the least bit surprised to find me waiting in the backseat. Tell me, just out of curiosity, what gave it away?”
“You’re wearing my earring.” Madison gestured toward the single gold-and-turquoise hoop swaying from Heather’s left lobe.
“What else?”
“Your tattoo.”
“Which one?” Heather grinned. “I’ve collected a few.”
“The one on the inside of your arm—the shooting stars. It’s a symbol for Shooting Star Ranch, isn’t it?”
For a handful of seconds, Heather looked shocked, but just as quickly she recovered. “As you know, not all scars fade.” She raised her arm to display the intricate ink that marked her flesh in a way that mimicked Madison’s burn scar. “Go ahead, explain it to your friends and the fans at home watching this feed.”
Madison glanced over her shoulder toward the others cowering in the corner, warning them with her eyes not to do anything heroic or stupid. Returning to Heather, she said, “Shooting Star Ranch is where they sent Heather to live after her dad, Gerald Rawlins, went to jail for killing my parents.” From behind her, someone gasped. Madison suspected it was Aster. “You changed the spelling of your last name,” Madison said. “But you are his daughter, aren’t you?”
Heather nodded. The gun shook in her hand, setting Trena on edge. Trena was tied, gagged, and rendered completely defenseless.
“What I don’t understand is why you’d risk everything for this.”
“Watching you fail is worth it.”
“But is it? Is it really?” Madison cocked her head and squinted.
“You don’t even remember me, do you?”
Madison stared.
“I babysat you once. I’m only three years older, but I think we know how negligent your parents were. Though I can’t say I blame them. Even back then you were a brat, so it’s not the least bit surprising to see the sort of person you grew into.”
“So, what now?” Madison made a gesture around the room and the forced situation they found themselves in.
“Now you confess,” Heather said.
“Confess to what?” Madison feigned confusion.
“Pretty sure you know.” Heather glared.
Madison stared blankly in return. Her goal was to drag this out for as long as possible. At some point, someone had to show up to help. If not, they were doomed.
“I need you to look into the camera and tell your fans how you shot your own parents along with my dad. Then you and Paul set the house on fire and walked away, leaving my dad behind to die. Only he didn’t die like you planned, so Paul framed him for a double homicide and an arson he didn’t commit and sent him away to jail, where he died just last year.”
“He was a drug runner!” Madison spat.
“He was all I had,” Heather said. “And while you went on to live your posh life with your fancy new name and family, I was left with nothing. They shipped me off to a life of menial labor until I could finally make my escape.”
“Seems to me you should feel proud of how far you’ve come and everything you’ve accomplished. And yet, you’re choosing to throw it all away.”
“I’ll admit, it wasn’t supposed to end like this,” Heather said. “I was supposed to enjoy my success while you spiraled down to the point of no return.”
“Then you sadly underestimated me.”
“I may have made a few miscalculations,” Heather shot back.
“But in the end, I’ll get what I came for.”
From behind her, Madison was aware of Ryan creeping forward. As subtly as she could, she shook her head and waved him away.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Heather said. “Why don’t you just go watch from the other room with Ira and James?”
Madison watched as Heather punched a few prompts onto an iPad, causing the door to slide open just enough for them to slip through.
“Go—now!” Heather shouted, waving her gun at them. “But not you!” She pointed the weapon at Madison as she watched the others disappear into the adjoining room.
Last thing Madison heard before the door slid shut was Aster’s voice shouting, “Omigod—Ira!”
Once they were gone, Heather continued. “None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t become famous. I’d barely even thought about you until one day I was looking through a magazine and I saw some dumb bitch smiling back from the cover with these unmistakable violet-colored eyes. Despite the name change, I knew in that instant it was you. So I made it a point to track you down once I moved to LA. At first, all I really wanted was an apology for the horrible thing that you did. But you treated me like you treat everyone—like I was second rate. That’s when I started making plans. And despite a few glitches, the fact that the whole world now knows the truth about you means it worked. Our conversation is being live streamed. People all over the world are tuned in. I like to think of it as the ultimate reality show.”
“If that’s true, then the cops are probably on their way.”
Heather shrugged. “All I need now is for you to admit the truth. So just look into the camera and tell the world who really killed your parents.”
Madison hesitated. While Heather had been talking, Paul had slipped into the room and was standing right behind her. She had no idea where he’d come from, but the look he gave her told her not to let on that she’d seen him.
Heather pressed the barrel of the gun to Trena’s temple. “If you don’t confess, I’ll shoot. Pretty sure you don’t want the whole world to know you’re so selfish you’d actually let an innocent woman die.”
“You say that so casually, like you’ve killed before. Does this mean the body in Joshua Tree was your doing?”
“You know how it is.” Heather sighed. “At first you think you have a solid ally you can trust, but then they decide to get greedy and you’re forced to teach them a lesson.”
“A permanent lesson,” Madison said.
“He’s the one who snatched you from Night for Night. So don’t pretend you give a shit about what happened to him. He knew my dad, so I thought he was on my side. But then he started blackmailing me. Demanding a ridiculous fee for his silence. He left me no choice. Besides, this is about your sins,” Heather reminded her.
“Just to be clear,” Madison said. “You’re asking me to lie in order to save Trena’s life?” Madison locked eyes with Trena. She hoped she wasn’t making it worse. “Because I can do that. Hell, I’m an actress. I can make it convincing. The thing that worries me is it doesn’t seem like you’ve thought this all the way through. Up until now you’ve managed to impress me by leaving a lot of unanswered questions, like: How’d you drug Aster? I mean, if Kevin O’Dell was arranging to abduct me, then you must’ve had additional help. Also, what about the guy in Death Valley? Just how many people were in on this?” Madison cared less about the answers and more about playing for time. Appealing to Heather’s ego was the best way she could think of.
Heather looked annoyed. “It’s not hard to find the right people if you know where to look. You have a long list of people who hate you, you know.”
“Did Ira drug Aster?”
Heather rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Of course not. I did. Poor Ira. You guys were so quick to accuse him, when all he ever did was try to give you what you wanted. Ira is the most honest person I know. He’s ruthless, yes, but he’s hardly the demon you think. I met Aster in the bathroom. She was acting all jumpy and weird, so I tried to calm her and offered her a sip from a bottle of water that may or may not have been spiked. Then I put her in a car and met her at an apartment I’d rented so she could safely sleep it off. It all went smoothly, except for Layla. Her refusal to post the diary entries, even after I threatened her, really surprised me. I never expected her to protect you, considering what a bitch you were. Then again, you’ve never been very good to your friends. I should know. I used to be one. As for the rest, the guy who abducted you in Death Valley used to work for Paul. You fired him from your security detail for some minor offense. He never recovered. I’m guessing either you or Paul managed to kill him since he never stopped by for his check. For all I know, you shot him with this very gun, seeing as how I found it inside your purse.” She waved the weapon before the camera.
While Heather was waving the gun, Paul sprang toward her. But Heather, spotting him from the corner of her eye, swung wildly toward him and ordered him to stand beside Trena.
“Enough!” Heather shouted. “Tell the truth now or someone dies!”
Paul looked at Madison and shook his head no.
But Madison knew Heather wasn’t joking. She was so far gone she’d gladly kill them all.
“Tell them who did it!” Heather shouted, becoming unhinged. Her hair was disheveled, her lipstick smeared, as thick black trails of mascara pooled under her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “Tell them it was you or Paul dies!”
Madison steeled herself and prepared to confess. She’d kept her secret all these years, but maybe, just maybe, her fans would forgive her. She was just a child when she’d shot them. She was scared and out of options. Paul had risked everything that night and all the ones that followed in order to protect her, and now the time had come to repay the favor. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. The prospect seemed worse than facing a hostile world that knew her deepest, darkest truth.
Stepping forward, she looked directly into the camera. “I—” She started to speak just as Paul charged straight into the barrel of Heather’s gun.
A terrible blast tore through the room, and Madison watched in horror as Paul reeled backward and Heather spun and fired another round through the glass wall that stood between them.
Instinctively, Madison ducked away from the hail of shattering glass as the bullet whizzed past her head and tore into the wall just behind her.
In a daze, she glanced over to where Paul lay. His gut was blown open, and a gush of blood pumped so profusely he’d bleed out in no time. It was over. Really truly over. Wearily, she lifted her gaze to watch Heather advance until she was standing directly before her, gun pointed at Madison’s forehead.
“Please,” Madison whispered. “Stop while you still can.”
“Too late.” Heather’s voice was sad, her expression resigned. “Looks like it’s over for all of us now.”
From somewhere in the distance, Madison heard shouting, the sound of feet running. “They’re coming,” she said. “Put the gun down.”
“They’re coming for both of us.” Heather’s eyes blazed. “So go ahead, before it’s too late—confess! It’s not like it’ll matter once we’re both dead.”
Madison stared at the lost girl before her, trying to get used to the idea that she really might die at Heather’s hand. The possibility was frightening, but she was equally surprised to find how bad she felt for what had become of Heather’s life.
Madison had used her rage to propel herself to great heights.
Heather had directed hers in a way that could only destroy her.
And now Paul was on the ground, the life force quickly seeping out of him.
Now that she’d lost everything, she could no longer see the point of the secret she’d kept all these years. She’d been a little girl when she’d pulled that trigger. Surely the world would’ve forgiven her?
Madison closed her eyes for a handful of seconds. The time had come to speak the truth, wash away her sins, and use what little time was left of her life to red
eem herself and her lies.
When she opened them again, her gaze landed on Paul. She wouldn’t let a decade of Paul’s protection die in vain.
“I didn’t do it.” Her voice remained steady, leaving no room for doubt. “Your father killed my parents, and I’m sorry you ever convinced yourself otherwise.”
“Liar!” Heather released the safety and pressed the barrel to Madison’s forehead.
The metal was hard and hot, searing into her skin. Madison narrowed in on the tiny broken-heart tattoo on Heather’s trigger finger, then shut her eyes against it and sent out a thousand prayers to whoever might still be willing to listen.
All she’d ever tried to do was save her own life. What could be so wrong about that?
Someone shouted in the distance, though their cries were soon masked by a deafening blast that burst through the room.
Madison’s ears rang with the sound of gunfire, her nostrils filled with the scent of gunpowder, and she slammed hard against the floor as Heather rolled on top of her.
Blood streamed across her cheek and pooled into her hair.
Her head ached from the impact of hitting the concrete, though it took a moment to realize she hadn’t been hit.
It was Heather’s blood that washed over her.
Even with his gut torn open, Paul could still land a perfect shot in the side of a head.
Madison pushed Heather aside, scrambled to her feet, and grabbed hold of Paul. “Someone get help!” she shouted, spotting Mateo standing in the doorway, looking on in horror as Detective Larsen sped toward her. “Hurry!”
As Paul slipped toward the ground, Madison struggled to hold him until Larsen took over.
“Don’t die!” she cried, cradling Paul’s head as Larsen pressed his hands against the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “Don’t you dare leave me!” she sobbed, hardly able to speak through her tears.
Next thing she knew, a pair of hands grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet, allowing the necessary space for the emergency response team to take over.
Ira held her tightly as Madison watched Paul being pulled onto a stretcher and wheeled out of the room. “It’s going to be okay.” Ira spoke softly into her ear. “It’s all over now.”