From the back cover...

For Chris Ryan and Jessica Romano, two Americans living in Japan, life is like a movie. Money comes easy when you're an "exotic" Westerner. Sex comes even easier. With every need instantly satisfied, the greatest worry is growing restless. Because when your life is a movie, it doesn't take long before you decide you need to do something...cinematic.

So when a wealthy Japanese businessman, overcome with too much whiskey--and too much Jessica--boasts that he secretly keeps a fortune in cash inside his home, Jessica enlists Chris and her boyfriend Taro to help her execute the perfect kidnapping. But they soon learn that the money might not be the only secret the businessman is keeping.

As the stakes start to rise, the three friends begin to question their motives--and each other. It doesn't take long to realize that while the surest way to survive is to stick together, the surest way to get rich is betrayal.

c h a p t e r    1

Sunday night, Jessica took Chris to the Hotel Happy Casanova in Minami-ku.

"This has to be the most private love hotel in Osaka, " Jessica said, "which is exactly what we want. First, no windows. Those pink shutters you're looking at, they're just for effect. Second, you can't see the door or the steps leading up to the door--everything's hidden behind those tall hedges over there. Third, they've even got magnetized metal strips in the parking lot that you can put over your license plate, so somebody's private detective won't be able to identify your car. And this is all just on the outside."

She took his hand, pulling him toward the entrance. "You ever see a pink and blue hotel before? With a neon sign fifteen feet high? Outside of Las Vegas? Wait, you're from Florida, forget I said that. Here, check this out."

She pushed open one of the heavy glass doors, and they stepped inside a tiny, L-shaped lobby with artificial trees lined up against the walls. Chris heard the door close behind him, then a sharp click. When he turned around and tried to open the door, he was surprised to find it locked.

"Doesn't that freak you out?" Jessica said. She pointed to a small sensor with a pulsing red light on the wall. "Once we walked in that light came on, and the door locked itself. It'll stay locked for two minutes--I've timed it--giving us time to choose the room we want without meeting other customers. Then the red light goes off, the door unlocks, and it's back to the races. Cool, huh? First time I was here I was like, hey, what if the power goes out while the doors are locked? 'The Happy Casanova: Perverts check in, but they don't check out.' But no, there's a back door around that partition in front of us. The exit. When you leave, you're actually supposed to go out that door, and not the one we just came in."

Chris was looking at the surveillance cameras hanging from the ceiling. "What about those?" he asked.

Jessica put her hands on her hips and made a face, blowing loose strands of blond hair away from her eyes. She was about five-seven but looked taller, rocking back on her heels, a bundle of nervous energy tonight in stonewashed jeans and a t-shirt from the Hard Rock Cafe in Bangkok. She stared at the cameras as if they were a personal affront. "Yeah, those are a small problem. They keep a lookout for ratty-looking homeless guys or gays and lesbians in hotels like this. A middle-aged businessman and his junior high school sweetheart, no problem, but two guys or two girls, forget it. But don't worry, we can get around that. I've got it all taken care of."

Chris looked up at the cameras again. He was a shade over six-one, not big but not skinny either, preppy today in a black polo shirt and khaki shorts. He shook his head, thinking he should be hiding his face. Thinking he should actually turn around and go home. I've got it all taken care of. Jessica was leaving no cliche unturned. He wondered how many idiot bad guys in how many movies had said the same thing. Usually just before getting caught. It stopped him, and he thought, Jesus Christ. He wasn't watching this movie; he was in it. That stopped him a second time. How many idiot bad guys in how many movies had also said something like that?

The first time Chris Ryan met Jessica Romano was at a frathouse keg party in Bloomington, Indiana, when he tried to sell her a joint that was half cheap brown schwag and half dried weeds from the vacant lot behind his apartment. The frat brothers from Sigma Gamma had been snapping them up all night, taking turns buying rounds for their buddies and complimenting him on the "powerful shit" he always managed to get a hold of. Jessica, whose boyfriend Ed had already passed out under a table by the time she showed up, took one drag, coughed, said, "Holy Jesus," then said loudly, "this is the worst fucking dope I have ever had in my entire life. What, did you go out in a field and roll up anything you could find?"

Chris was feeling pretty mellow at the time, so rather than argue, he slipped her one of the joints he was saving for himself, this one a Grade A Gainesville Special, and the two of them sat down in a corner and got to know each other. Or rather, he got to know her; with Jessica it was hard to get a word in edgewise. She was a sophomore from Chicago, bored with school, thinking about dropping out and flying over to Japan to "work in TV or maybe model." Jessica had heard that blonde, blue-eyed girls with nice tits were just rolling in yen. "Like this, " she said, and she stretched out in front of him, gave him the joint, and rolled over from her back onto her stomach, then onto her back again, making sure Chris got a good look at all her job qualifications. Chris took a drag and said: "I'd hire you." Jessica sat up and took the joint back. "I hope that wasn't the best line you could come up with, " she said. "You're lucky marijuana gets me all frisky." They ended up in Jessica's boyfriend's room down the hall. His roommate stumbled in sometime around three in the morning, took one unsteady look at Chris and said, "Ed, fuck man, did you shave off all your chest hair?" Then: "Hey, get the Barbasol and do me." Chris got out of there.

True to her word, Jessica dropped out of school at the end of the semester. Chris didn't see her again for seven years. The next time they ran into each other was outside the Bar Rumble in America Mura, just a few minutes on foot from the Hotel Happy Casanova. America Mura was four city blocks of U.S. pop culture distilled through a Japanese filter. It was mostly sneaker stores and vintage clothing shops--the place to buy used Hawaiian shirts--plus a few bars and dance places where gaijin groupies hung out. Chris had been working the door at the Bar Rumble for three weeks when, he couldn't believe it, there was Jessica holding out her hand for him to stamp. "Jesus, " he said. "How are you doing?" She looked at him and said, "You still haven't come up with any good lines, have you?"

Jessica was still loud and brassy, straightforward in a way that he liked. But there was something different about her now, something he couldn't put his finger on at first. A little harder, maybe. A little more impatient. And there was something about the impatience that seemed, well, almost desperate. Desperate wasn't Jessica. It didn't make any sense. Until suddenly it did, sitting on the straw tatami floor in a ramshackle old house that some friends of hers rented, smoking a little for old times sake, when she told him the Idea. Her ridiculous, impossible, unbelievable Idea. The reason they were in this Japanese sex nest studying the selections on a wall-mounted computerized display.

"Mirrored ceilings, heart-shaped beds, hot tubs, theme rooms. This place has it all, " Jessica said. "All the pictures that are lit up are available. The ones that are dark are already taken. You're lucky, today you've got your pick. Friday or Saturday night this whole screen might be black."

Chris was getting a kick out of all the different types of rooms. Some of the pictures on the display were labeled, most in Japanese but some in English. One of them read "UFO," and the picture below it showed reflective wallpaper, a round bed with silver sheets, and an assortment of what looked like surgical instruments arranged neatly on a metal cart next to the bed. Another picture was labeled "DUNGEON" but was unfortunately blacked out. Chris said, "Which one are you and the guy usually in?"

Jessica pointed to one of the pictures without a label. "That one on the end. Room 301. It's pretty standard. No really kinky stuff. He doesn't go for anything too weird. What I'm thinking, if you finally agree to do this, you and Taro take a room on the same floor. Make things as simple as possible."

She showed him how it worked. Below each picture on the display were two prices: one to "Rest" and one to "Stay." A "Rest" was two hours and cost 3,500 yen. A "Stay" was all night, check out at ten the next morning, and cost 10,000 yen. Theme rooms were more expensive.

"The best thing about it, " Jessica said, "is that you don't have to tell anybody which room you want. In most love hotels, you pay for your room and get your key from a clerk hidden behind a smoked glass window. You can't see her face--it's always a woman, for whatever that means--and she can't see yours, but you've got to talk to her. That can get pretty embarrassing."

"Excuse me, the 'Dungeon' for two please." "Totally. Here, all you have to do is decide 'Rest' or 'Stay,' push the button next to the price, and feed the bills into this slot over here on the right. Just like a vending machine. Once you've put in enough money, a key card pops out of another slot next to the picture of the room you chose, and that's it. You're on your way. When your time's up, you put the key card back in the slot."

Chris said, "What if you fall asleep and go over the time limit?"

Jessica blinked. "I don't know," she said. Staring at the display, she nibbled on her middle finger. Finally she said, "I guess they call you on the phone in the room."

"What if you walk out with the key card?"

Jessica looked at him. "Why would you want to do that?"

"No reason. Just what if we did? What would happen?"

"Fuck, I don't know, " Jessica said. "An alarm goes off, maybe. Somebody on the staff comes running out. Who cares? Don't do it, then you won't have to worry about it. OK?" She looked at her watch. "It's after nine. Can we get out of here, go talk about the details, or do you actually want to check out one of the rooms?"

Chris smiled.

"Gee, " he said. "Only if it isn't too much trouble."

They paid for a "Rest" in the "DISNY LAND" (Chris checked the spelling twice, just to be sure) and took the two-person elevator up to the third floor. There were actually two elevators, Jessica explained, one for going up and into rooms, one for going down and out of rooms. The elevator going down opened facing the exit.

"Odds are, " Jessica said, "the whole time you're in here, you won't see another human being. It's totally designed that way. And if you do run into somebody, they won't even give you a first glance. Forget about a second."

To prove her right, in the hallway on the third floor they passed a couple on their way out: an older man in a three-piece blue suit and a much younger woman with straight, jet-black hair that hit the top of her ass. They huddled close together as soon as they noticed Chris and Jessica and hurried past without making eye contact. Jessica looked at him as if to say: See what I mean?

"You could run naked down the hallway, " Jessica said.

The DISNY LAND was Room 305. As one of theme rooms, it was more expensive. As soon as he opened the door, Chris decided it was worth it. Maybe worth double. "This kind of thing," he said, "is why I came to Japan."

It was DISNY LAND all right. Chris wondered how long it would take to walk around the room, count all the copyright infringements. There were at least four on the pink, queen-sized bed: knockoffs of Mickey, Minnie, Pluto, and the Little Mermaid, neatly arranged between the candy-striped pillows. One of the end tables had a Mickey Mouse phone, the other two Mouseketeer caps on small hat stand. Other knickknacks were scattered about the room: a throw-rug with scenes from the Lion King, a life-size Bambi doll next to the leather sofa, a chintzy plastic tiara on the vanity in case someone didn't want to wear a Mouseketeer cap. Surrounding everything was glossy red and white wallpaper imprinted with Mickey and Minnie in various states of romantic bliss: Mickey giving Minnie flowers, holding her hand inside a giant heart, dancing cheek-to-cheek.

Jessica threw her purse on the bed and sat down, crossing her legs. She took out a cigarette. "This country, " she said, lighting up, "has a terminal case of the cutes."

"Don't be so elitist, " Chris said. There was a package of "GENUINE DISNY CONDOMS" in a white plastic tray on the end table with the Mouseketeer caps. He showed them to her. "How can you mock such careful attention to detail? They're ribbed, even."

"Put one on. This Australian guy I know says Japanese condoms are so small, when he wears one it's like a vise down there." She looked at his crotch and grinned. "Of course, you might not have any problem."

"Let's find out." Chris picked up one of the Mouseketeer caps and put it on her head. "M-I-C-K-E-Y, give-me-some-pussy."

Jessica blew smoke in his face. "You wish." Gesturing with her cigarette at the TV, she said, "Hand me the remote, will you? While you look around?"

Chris had never been to a motel in the States where you paid by the hour, but he could imagine one: cigarette burns in the carpet, dirty sheets, grunts and moans through the paper-thin walls from the room next door. The Hotel Happy Casanova was different. It was immaculate, the walls were solid, and it had everything. The wide screen TV was a Sony, with a DVD player, PlayStation, and karaoke machine hooked up to it. Adult DVDs and computer games were stacked neatly inside a small cabinet. Chris looked through the DVDs and found an X-rated, Japanese version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, which he thought was a nice touch. A video camera was on hand, mounted on a tripod, in case you wanted a record of the evening's action. There was a mini-bar stocked with soda and beer and those miniature bottles of liquor you get on airplanes. There was even a small vending machine full of sex toys. No DISNY merchandise. Chris said, over his shoulder, "I always thought Mickey would make a nice dildo. Those ears, you know? What do you think?" but Jessica was ignoring him.

Dumbo was smiling up from the rug on the lid of the toilet seat.

The bath and shower were separated from the rest of the bathroom. Chris opened the door and turned on the light, grinning as the room glowed red. A sunken, heart-shaped Jacuzzi sat amidst black tile, surrounded by mirrors. Some of the mirrors had foot-long metal bars arranged at various levels. Chris couldn't figure out what they were for until it suddenly came to him, yeaaahhh, just the right gripping height for some back-door action. He wondered how many couples had done it right there, just like that.

When he walked back into the room, Jessica had found the porno channel. "Hey, leave it there, " Chris said.

"I don't get it, " Jessica said. She pointed at the screen with the remote. "That guy with the microphone, the one who looks like a reporter? He's interviewing those three naked guys and their girlfriends in that hotel room. Maybe. Actually, I'm not sure what they're doing."

Chris thought it was pretty funny, the guys standing there naked, answering questions, their girlfriends sitting on the bed watching them. Some kind of computer-generated mosaic was blurring the guys' privates and pubic hair, but it was easy to see what was what. "No Long Dong Silvers in this bunch, " Chris said.

"Not in all of Japan, Chris-san."

They waited for something to happen, but the story didn't get any better. Every once in a while one of the guys would say something that one of the girls thought was funny, and the camera would pan over to her covering her mouth as she giggled. Sometimes a second camera, this one set on the floor, would zoom in on one of the girls when she crossed her legs, maybe get a panty shot. Chris wondered if that was some kind of Japanese turn-on. Otherwise, why not just get to it?

Jessica was looking at him over her shoulder, biting her nails again. "So what do you think?"

"About what?" Chris was still hoping that one of the girls would at least take off her top. "I think this is the worst porno I've ever seen, " he said.

Jessica took his chin in her hand and turned his head towards her. "Not about that, " she said, serious now, "about this. It'll work, don't you think? You and Taro come in when the guy's asleep, we dress him up, walk him out of here, and nobody will know the difference. Assuming everything else goes right, we're home free." She shook his chin playfully. "Say something."

He took her hand and put it in her lap. Then he got up off the bed and walked over to the video camera. Bending down, he peered at Jessica through the viewfinder. She looked nervous.

"Well?" She was also getting impatient.

Chris wasn't sure how to put it. He leaned back against the wall. "I agree this place is as private as you said it was. If the cameras downstairs can actually be avoided, and you think they can, you could probably kill someone in here and get away with it."

"Exactly."

"Yeah, but the problem is, you don't want to kill anyone. You're--" and he had to stop for a second, realizing what he had just said. She didn't want to kill anyone and that was a problem. Good Christ. He started again. "Jessica, unbelievable as this sounds, you're talking about something a lot more difficult than murder. People get away with murder all the time, but this, " he said, voice dropping, thinking one thing and finally saying another, "Jessica, nobody gets away with kidnapping...."

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