Bloody hell! I had to stall Randy somehow. Once he was driving off, it'd be too late. He looked back at me, puzzled, when I called out, 'Randy, wait,' and took off after him.
'Look, Kylie, I'm in a hurry.'
He'd reached his vehicle, a white Toyota sedan. Just the sort of car I'd expect Randy to drive. He unlocked it with his remote key, opened the door, and tossed his briefcase onto the passenger seat.
Still no Fred. Time to improvise. Randy was parked close to a concrete pillar, so he couldn't fully open the driver's door. Before he could get in, I inserted myself between Randy and the door. He looked at me with amazement. 'What the hell are you doing?'
'I wanted to have a word with you, in private.'
'I'm in a hurry right now. Some other time.'
Where the hell was Fred? I looked over Randy's shoulder, ready to yell, 'This way!' but no ungainly figure in a crumpled uniform appeared.
'Shit,' said Randy, 'just get out of the way.'
He attempted to move me bodily by grasping my upper arms, but I resisted. 'I'm thinking of buying a Toyota. Would you advise it?'
'Get the hell out of my way.'
Someone slammed a car door and took off in a squeal of tires. This was desperation time. Randy was stronger than I was and was plainly about to shove me to one side and get the evidence safely out of the building.
He wasn't taking me seriously, so I found it easy to reach over and snatch the keys from his hand. He was astounded, more than angry. 'Give them back to me!'
He tried to grab them, but I put my hand behind my back. 'Randy, we have some things to discuss.'
'Like what?'
'Like Lorelei Stevens.'
Bad move. His face reddened. Squeezing my shoulder painfully hard, he snarled, 'This is so fucking stupid. Stop playing games and give me the keys.' When I didn't comply, he slammed me hard against the door. 'The keys, you bitch!'
'Don't make me hurt you,' I said.
This got an incredulous laugh. 'You? Hurt
A final, desperate look around convinced me Fred wasn't going to be my knight in shining armor. Everything depended on me.
Randy had really lost it now. My ears rang as he backhanded me. 'Keys, or I'll break your arm.'
Back in Wollegudgerie, when I was doing my self-defense class at the Police Club, the instructor had said, 'If you're about to get creamed, there's no point in being squeamish. You do what you have to do.'
Looking at Randy's contorted face, I agreed with the instructor wholeheartedly. I dropped the keys and did my best to kick them under the car. Randy punched me. My nose blossomed with blood.
It was clearly time for the Christmas hold. Back in the 'Gudge, we'd all laughed at the name-Christmas hold equals a handful of nuts-but I wasn't laughing now. Tears were running down my cheeks and my nose was spurting blood.
I squinted, trying to see him clearly, and said, 'Randy, you're really asking for it.' Helped by the fact he didn't consider me a worthy opponent, I took a deep breath, bent my knees, and grabbed at his crotch. Taking a firm grip, I followed the instructor's advice to pull and twist.
It was astonishing how well it worked. Randy bellowed and fell to his knees, then toppled over-helped, I confess, with a push from me.
The lift pinged. Fred came strolling out, thumbs hooked into his belt. His expression changed as he saw Randy groveling on the floor. He hurried over, saying accusingly, 'What did you do to him?'
I indicated my nose. 'What did he do to me, you mean.'
Fred's closer inspection of the groaning Randy brought a glare of disapproval. 'Could be permanent damage. That's assault, you know.'
I fished around and found a tissue to hold against my bleeding nose. 'Take a look at the front seat. Randy's got stuff taken from patient files.'
Fred wasn't listening. He'd gotten Randy sitting up and had a solicitous arm around his shoulders.
'Jesus Christ,' Fred muttered. 'These bloody Aussies.'
FIFTEEN
As soon as he realized what had happened, Dave Deer was on the phone in a flash. If I wanted a lesson in the power of the celebrity in L.A., I got it now. Almost simultaneously, it seemed to me, the following arrived: four Beverly Hills cops, two to arrest Randy Romaine for assault and two to hang around asking questions; two lawyers, one representing Dave Deer and Deerdoc, the other to look after the interests of Lorelei Stevens; one high-powered RR. person for Ms. Stevens-Kristi Jane Russo took over this role for Deerdoc; one physician to the stars, called in urgently by Dave Deer, who immediately announced I was too traumatized to be interviewed by the police at the moment.
This wasn't true. Granted, I had a pounding headache, a rapidly blackening eye, and my nose was throbbing like the billy-oh, but I could have answered questions. 'No way are you speaking to the cops!' exclaimed Dave Deer, who'd taken Fred and me into his office to consult with his lawyer. 'Miles? What's your take on this?'
Miles, a soft, gray man, steepled his lawyerly hands, sent us all a grave look, and said, 'At this stage, the less said the better. In that vein, it would be wise, I believe, to provide Mr. Romaine with legal representation. We don't want him to drag any of your clients into a publicity morass.'
Dave went quite white at the thought. 'Jesus Christ, Miles. Do it! Do it now!'
The lawyer slid neatly out of the office, hardly disturbing the air as he moved. Creepy!
Considering the lengths I'd gone to on Dave Deer's behalf, he was rather low on the gratitude scale. 'Lorelei won't be happy if her name's dragged into this.'
'It's not my fault Randy Romaine took that particular file,' I protested.
Dave Deer switched his displeasure to Fred Mills. 'Why weren't you on the spot? Kylie called for assistance. Where were you?'
Fred, with a mean look in my direction, said, 'If she hadn't viciously attacked that guy, I could have kept a lid on the whole thing.'
'You'll be next, if you keep that up,' I said. It was pleasing to me when a nervous expression crossed his flabby face.
Miles slid back into the room. 'Too late. Romaine's singing,' he said to Dave. 'Warbling like a canary.' The hard-boiled language sounded ludicrous in his precise little voice.
'Oh,
'I suggest we get Ms. Kendall out of here. Keep her incommunicado.'
Irritated because I was in pain, I snapped, 'I'm here, right here in the room. You can talk directly to me.'
Miles's smile was as sincere as a saltwater crocodile's. 'So sorry. I didn't mean to offend. You do fully comprehend, I trust, that it would be unwise to speak with the authorities without the presence of an attorney.'
'Why not just tell them the truth?'
Miles seemed shocked. 'I don't believe you understand the ramifications of what you've just said.'
My bedroom at Kendall & Creeling glowed in my mind like a warm and welcoming refuge. I stood up. 'I've got a headache and I'm going home.'
After argument about whether or not I should drive, I won out and went down to level three, the scene of my confrontation with Randy. I thought maybe I'd see police tape around the scene, but there was nothing but Randy's white Toyota, waiting patiently for him to return.
Outside the Deerdoc building media vans were already congregating. I zipped by, dark glasses perched on my swollen nose. At times like this I saw the benefits of having a generic vehicle that attracted little attention.
I made the Kendall & Creeling car park with a sense of great relief. The high-powered doctor Dave Deer
