Double Deception Read online

  We stepped out of the way of the stream of celebs now exiting the movie theater. The cameras started clicking, people started shouting, reporters raced up and down the carpet trying to get to the stars. It would be easy to get trampled.

  I spotted Justin’s blond head coming through he door. “There he is!” My eyes widened. There was another, shorter blonde next to him.

  Emily Slater was arm in arm with Justin Carraway. Nothing unusual about two movie stars attending a premiere together.

  Except these two teen movie stars hated each other. Emily even told me that she wished Justin was dead for all the grief he had given her. She was so serious that she had made it to our suspect list when we were looking for Justin’s stalker.

  “Do you see what I see?” Frank exclaimed.

  “The truce of the century?” I asked. We watched as Emily and Justin slowly made their way along the carpet, smiling and posing for the cameras. At one point Emily even stood on her tiptoes to give Justin a kiss on the cheek.

  Sydney came over to join us. “Is the Emily-Justin romance back on?” I asked. “Or is it an act for the press to promote the next film?”

  “As far as I can tell, it’s real,” Sydney said, an amused look on her face. “Go figure.”

  We waited by the limo that was supposed to take us all to the party at the nightclub Glow. Emily and Justin stopped in front of us, turned, waved at the reporters, and slid into the limo. We climbed in after them.

  “So what did you think of the movie?” Justin asked, draping his arm across the backseat behind Emily.

  “Totally rocked!” I said truthfully.

  “Gonna be a megahit,” said Frank.

  “Ryan’s martial arts lessons really paid off,” Justin admitted.

  “I’m surprised they didn’t just ask your twin to shoot those scenes,” Emily teased. “It would have saved the director a lot of time having to do reshoots! Ryan’s the black belt, after all.”

  I tensed. Would Justin get mad?

  “I should have suggested that myself,” Justin said. “I would have had a lot more time to hang out by the swimming pool.”

  “That’s definitely more your style,” said Emily with a grin.

  The limo pulled up to the club for the party. There were even more onlookers, reporters, and cameras here. This time Emily and Justin just waved and strode quickly through the velvet ropes held aside by the bouncers. Justin paused long enough to indicate that we were part of his group, then vanished into the club. Once we made it past the ropes, the bouncer put them back to keep out the crowd.

  A wave of music blasted us as we stepped inside. Colored lights flashed in sync to the thumping bass. Gyrating people crowded the sunken dance floor. Booths and balconies circled the huge space. Justin started bouncing to the beat.

  A red-haired woman wearing a miniscule black dress stood behind a podium. Sydney stepped up to her and said something I couldn’t hear over the music. The redhead scanned a guest list, nodded, then pointed. Sydney gestured for us to follow her. We snaked our way through the packed club to a booth. As Frank and I slid into the cushy seat, Justin grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her toward the dance floor.

  Sydney whipped out her PDA and stared texting. Frank grinned at me. I knew I wore the same wicked grin. I’d seen stuff like this in movies and on entertainment TV shows—and here we were, right in the middle of it. Frank and Joe Hardy—A-list partygoers, surrounded by celebrities.

  “Schmooze time.” Sydney slid out of the booth. “Keep an eye on our boy!” She vanished into the crowd.

  I watched a cute girl with short, dark curls laughing with a bunch of equally cute girls. “Isn’t she the mean one from the reality show It’s All Mine?”

  “Never saw it,” said Frank. “I like my reality real.”

  Justin and Emily reappeared at the table, holding hands. He was grinning ear to ear, and I’d never seen Emily this happy before.

  “I need something cool to drink,” Justin announced. He turned to Emily. “How about you?”

  “Club soda with lemon and lime,” she answered.

  Justin looked at me and Frank. I was halfway out of my seat, figuring he was expecting us to go and get the drinks, when he said, “Anyone else?”

  “Uh, a cola?” Frank said, sounding just as surprised as I was that Justin was going to do his own fetching.

  “Me too,” I said, sitting back down.

  “Two colas and a club soda with lemon and lime,” Justin said, bowing to Emily. “Coming right up.”

  “I’ll help you carry,” offered Frank, getting up.

  I watched their progress through the crowded room. This was the hottest, trendiest, fanciest club in hot, trendy, fancy New York, so most of the people here were as famous or rich as Justin. So he didn’t get the same kind of notice that he did when he went out in Bayport. Still, a lot of the girls were trying to get his attention. But Justin completely ignored them. He seemed to have eyes only for Emily.

  Emily beamed, never taking her eyes off him either.

  “So what gives?” I asked. “The dillweed turned into a bouquet of roses?”

  Emily giggled. “I did kind of hate him, didn’t I?”

  “More than kind of,” I said.

  “Right after he came back from Atlantic City, he apologized for every stupid thing he had done,” Emily explained, her eyes getting all dreamy. “He said after being away in Atlantic City, and after Slick was murdered, he finally came to his senses. Got perspective.”

  “Hmm.” I watched Justin and Frank navigating the crowds on their way back to the table. I hoped this change wasn’t just another temporary flight of fancy for Justin. He had already broken Emily’s heart once. It would be pretty ugly if he did it again.

  “Atlantic City was good for you,” I said to Justin as he sat down.

  “What?” Justin asked. “Why would you say that?”

  He sounded offended, as if I was insinuating something.

  “Going there turned out to be good for you and Emily, anyway,” I explained, wondering what his problem was.

  “Oh, oh, yeah,” he said. He smiled at Emily. “Really good for us.” He took her hand and squeezed it.

  Sydney danced up to the table fifteen minutes later. “Sorry to be such an adult,” she shouted over the music, “but we should think about calling it a night.”

  Justin and Emily looked disappointed.

  “Justin, you have that interview tomorrow,” Sydney reminded him. “Need to get your beauty sleep!”

  Justin shrugged. “Okay.”

  Wow. No argument? No figuring out a way to get around Sydney? I guess Justin really had turned over a new leaf.

  Justin led Emily through the mobs of dancers. Frank and I trailed behind them.

  “Hey, wait a second,” I said. “I don’t have an interview tomorrow. I don’t need my beauty sleep.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror, dude?” Frank taunted. “You’ve missed far too much already. It ain’t a pretty sight.”

  I punched his arm, but followed him out of the club.

  The moment Justin and Emily stepped outside, the paparazzi jumped into action. Cameras clicked, people shouted questions, and flashes went off everywhere.

  Justin held up Emily’s hand and smiled at the crowd. “You can all be the first to know that Emily and I are back together. And this time I’ll make it right.”

  Emily blushed twenty shades of red and smiled like she’d won the lottery.

  “Will you and Emily do more films together?” someone yelled.

  “Is there a sequel to Hong Kong Challenge in the works?”

  “How do you feel about Slick being murdered?”

  At that last question Justin froze, and all the color drained out of his face.

  I was just as stunned. How could anyone ask a question like that?

  But that one awful question unleashed a torrent of others. The reporters were like sharks who smelled blood in the water.

  “Do the police have any leads?”

  “Who’s going to be your manager now?”

  A short, stocky reporter pushed his way to the front of the crowd and shoved a microphone right under Justin’s nose. “Do you feel responsible for Slick’s death?”

  Justin stared at the man as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. I know I didn’t believe it.

  “What about the tabloid reporter?” the guy continued. “Elijah Gorman. Do you feel responsible for that murder too?”

  Before anyone could react, Justin lashed out. He grabbed the guy’s mike and whacked him across the face with it.

  FRANK 4

  Red Carpet Rumble

  I stood there like everyone else, mouth open, eyes wide. It was as if none of us in the crowd could process what had just happened.

  But in a nanosecond—total mayhem.

  The reporter Justin hit let out a bellow. He dropped his camera and reached for his nose. I saw blood oozing out between his fingers.

  The crowd of reporters and photographers surged in toward Justin. Some took snaps of the injured reporter, others clicked and yelled questions at Justin.

  Justin flung his arms over his face and stumbled backward into Emily. She shrieked and toppled over in her high heels.

  Now the photographers shoved and pushed one another to get a picture of Emily sprawled on the sidewalk in her fancy dress.

  “Out of my shot!” someone shouted.

  “Quit blocking me!”

  Time to break this up. If they started fighting, I had a feeling it would be Justin who would be blamed.

  “Going in!” I shouted at Joe.

  “Right behind you!” he hollered back.

  I shouldered into the group and grabbed a raised arm. No clue who it belonged to, I just d
idn’t like the fist. I tugged it, and the reporter whirled and slammed me with his free hand. My head whipped around, and I saw stars. But I didn’t let go.

  Over the brawl I heard Emily screaming, Sydney shouting, and Justin cursing. I hoped none of that would wind up as an endless loop on the Internet.

  “You going to behave?” I growled into the guy’s ear. I had his arm twisted behind his back.

  “Let me go, you stupid kid!” he shouted. “I’m trying to get my shot.”

  “You’re taking shots, all right,” I said, “but not with your camera. And I don’t like it.”

  I glanced behind me and saw Joe duck a punch and grab a scrawny guy by his camera strap. They tussled, and Joe dragged the guy farther away from Justin.

  Finally the cops arrived. I wondered who called them; I know I never had the chance. The crowd immediately broke up. I’d never seen a swarm of mostly pudgy, middle-aged guys vanish so quickly.

  Justin and Emily stood near the entrance to the nightclub, both looking miserable. The paparazzi guy who had started the whole thing leaned against a car, holding his head back, with a tissue shoved up his nose.

  “Justin, take Emily inside,” Sydney ordered. “Get some sodas, cool off, have some fun. Let me handle this.”

  Justin nodded. He put his arm around Emily and guided her back into the club.

  “I want to press charges!” said the paparazzo.

  “No, I don’t think you do,” Sydney snarled. She was in full pit-bull mode. “We have witnesses who will be happy to identify you as the cause of this near riot!”

  “Like me,” said Joe, stepping forward.

  “And me,” I added, coming up beside him.

  “So what’s it going to be?” the police officer asked.

  Sydney glared at the reporter. Joe crossed his arms and frowned. I gave him my meanest scowl.

  “Forget it,” the guy muttered.

  The cop went back to his car and drove off.

  Sydney faced off with the reporter. “How could you do that to a teenager?” she demanded, her hands on her hips. “He just lost someone very close to him. And you asked if he felt responsible? What’s the matter with you?”

  I’d never seen her like this. She was like a mama bear defending her cub. Which in a way she was.

  “Back off, lady,” the reporter whined. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It just seems like bad luck is following Justin these days. This fight proves my point!”

  “You were just trying to get a rise out of a vulnerable kid to sell your stupid papers,” Sydney snapped.

  “All I’m saying is, knowing Justin Carraway is a dangerous thing. Just ask my nose and my equipment!”

  I couldn’t actually argue with him on that. It did seem as if Justin always attracted trouble—or found himself in the middle of it.

  The reporter shook his head and shambled away.

  “I would have smacked him myself,” said Sydney, shaking her head. “Too bad Justin beat me to it.” She pulled out her ever-present cell and started texting as she strode back into the club.

  Now that the cops were gone, paparazzi were slowly showing up again. There was also a growing crowd of people trying to get into the club.

  “So what do you think?” I asked. “Should we go back inside?”

  Joe grimaced. “I don’t really feel like being the third wheel.”

  “Good point,” I said. “If Justin and Emily get any more lovesick, I think I’m going to get sick.”

  “Sydney has got Justin in her sights,” Joe pointed out. “I think we can go off babysitting duty now.”

  “We just have to make it through the crowd,” I said. “Man, people go out seriously late in this town!”

  I scanned the people surrounding the entrance, looking for an easy escape route. Then I saw some faces that were far too familiar.

  Three large, muscular Asian men in very fancy suits.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. Joe and I had tangled with these powerhouses just a few days ago. They worked for the crime lord Phillip Yu. His bodyguards.

  I knew all too well how good they were at their jobs—they were expert martial artists. Joe and I helped keep Tom Huang from getting his butt totally kicked when they went after him on Phillip Yu’s orders.

  That was back in Atlantic City.

  So what were they doing here? Now?

  JOE 5

  Dead Man Walking?

  As soon as Frank elbowed me in the side, I saw exactly what had him so freaked. Phillip Yu’s goons.

  SUSPECT PROFILE

  Name(s): No idea. But there are three of them.

  Hometowns: Various cities in China

  Physical description: Lean, mean, killing machines.

  Occupation: Bodyguards to international businessman and crime lord Phillip Yu. Currently out of work due to the sudden demise of their boss. Or so we thought.

  Background: Triple black belts in all forms of martial arts. Worked together and separately as bodyguards and stunt men; suspected of possible execution-style killings.

  Suspicious behavior: Showing up at Justin’s premiere party immediately after Phillip’s death.

  Suspected of: Being super-scary dudes with underworld connections.

  Possible motive: Payback.

  “No way!” I blurted. “What are they doing here?”

  One of the men caught my eye. His jaw tightened, and he said something to the two men with him.

  “We’ve been spotted,” I told Frank. “And they know we know they know.”

  Frank gave me a confused look. “Uh, I think I understood that.”

  The three men spun around and faded into the crowd.

  “I want to know what they’re up to,” I said.

  “Right behind you, bro,” said Frank.

  We sprinted after them. They hurried around a corner, and we picked up speed. We didn’t want to lose them.

  My heart nearly jumped out of my chest as a car screeched to a sudden stop just inches from me. Squealing tires and honking horns shrieked around us as we darted between yellow taxis. As I rounded the next corner, I saw the three goons vanish into a limo. Frank dashed up beside me.

  “They’re in that car,” I told him.

  “You mean the one headed straight for us?” asked Frank. “Jump!”

  We flung ourselves out of the street. I stumbled and went sprawling on the sidewalk. Frank reached down and pulled me up—hard.

  “Hey! I need that limb!” I complained, yanking my arm out of his grip.

  “Check out the backseat.”

  I peered at the car speeding away from us. “There’s another person in there with them,” I observed.

  “Does that look like who I think it looks like?” Frank asked.

  “Can’t be,” I said. “Can it?” I squinted, trying to see into the tinted back window. I turned to Frank. “That’s not Phillip Yu, is it?”

  Frank looked as puzzled as I felt. “His body was never recovered,” he said slowly.

  “Could he have somehow faked his own death so he’d be able to get away?” I wondered.

  “I guess anything is possible,” said Frank. I could hear the doubt in his voice. I don’t think either of us really thought Phillip Yu was still alive. But you never know. I’ve been surprised by some pretty wacko turns of events as a member of ATAC. What was one more?

  “There’s a more important question,” Frank went on. “What were they doing at the premiere party?”

  “I can top that,” I said. “What we really want to know is, who were they there to see? Justin? Or us?”

  “Good point.” Frank nodded. “Phillip acted like there was bad blood between him and Justin, so Justin could be the target. But he dropped out of that helicopter because of us.”

  “So you’re thinking this could be payback time?”

  “I have no idea,” Frank admitted.

  We walked back to the club. There were still loads of reporters around—it was a club favored by high-profile people—but it was a lot calmer. I had an idea. “I want to take a look at tonight’s premiere party guest list.”