by Nic Saint
“Me too!” said Bettina. “But what to wear?”
“It’s a mobster’s party, so maybe we should wear something… mobstery?”
“You guys, we can’t go,” said Fee. “We weren’t invited.”
“Oh, no?” Mabel took out her phone. “Methinks we’re all invited!”
She showed the website of the Happy Bays Gazette. It announced: ‘All of Happy Bays invited to celebrate the birthday of Heike Grabarski! Free food and drinks! See you there!’
Chatper 25
“This is an outrage!” yelled Pamela, gesticulating wildly with her phone. “This idiot just invited the whole town to our party! Our party!” She suddenly sank down on the couch and dissolved into tears. “This is going to be such a disaster—a tragedy!”
Her husband was pacing up and down the room. Pam was right. This was an outrage. And a disaster. He’d pressed his own phone to his ear when finally the call connected. “Hello? Is this the editor of the Happy Bays Gazette?”
“This is he,” said a deep masculine voice.
“You invited the entire town to my boy’s birthday, you realize that, you moron?!”
“I assume I’m speaking to Eddy Grabarski?”
“Mr. Grabarski to you, numbnuts!”
“Well, you asked me to publish your announcement, Mr. Grabarski.”
“Lies! I did no such thing!”
“Not you personally. Your daughter Gertrude did. She came into our office this afternoon, and said it would be an honor if the people of our town could join you in celebrating the birthday of Heike, while at the same time mourning the death of Vic.”
“My daughter!” He searched around until his eyes fell on the fair head of his stepdaughter. She was lounging by the pool, idly flipping through a copy of Star Magazine. The phone clutched to his chest, he stomped onto the deck and bellowed, “Gertrude!”
Gertrude looked up. “Eddy?”
“Did you go into the Happy Bays Gazette this afternoon to invite the whole town to your brother’s party?”
“Me? Of course not! Why would I?”
“Did you hear that, you dipstick? My daughter didn’t go anywhere near your filthy rag. And I want you to know I’m going to sue you to hell. I’m going to rip you to shreds and destroy you! I’m going to crucify you! I’m going to stomp all over you like I’m Godzilla and you’re a nut! You’re going to wish you were never born, you boneheaded turkeybrain!!!”
“But I can assure you that—”
He pressed disconnect before the incompetent schmuck could utter another syllable. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here!” he raged.
“Me neither,” said Gertrude. “Have they found Apple yet?”
“Apple? Who the hell cares about Apple!”
“I care about Apple! Some woman waltzed into the pet parlor and took her—just took her! It’s been one thing after another. First some bimbo stole my shoes, then my car, then my appointment at Revolution Cool, and then they stole Apple! My precious Apple!”
“Eh,” said Eddy. He didn’t care about cool revolutions or apples. He cared about Vic being murdered. He should call this whole stupid birthday party off now. Cancel the whole damn thing. He didn’t even like Heike, or Gertrude. They lived in his house, ate his food, took his money, and they weren’t even his! Another man’s damn brood, raised by him!
The whole thing made him sick. Sick!
He picked up his phone again.
“Yeah,” said a gruff voice on the other end.
“Tell me you found him.”
“Not yet, boss,” said Pete. “But I’m getting close. I can feel it.”
“You better get me my boy’s body, you idiot, so I can give him a proper burial. And you better get me whoever’s behind this with their heads on a pair of spikes. Got it?”
“Heads on spikes,” said the guy he relied upon to do his dirty work. “Got it, boss.”
“At least tell me you have some idea.”
“I have a hunch.”
“Well, tell me!”
“Do you know a guy called Chazz Falcone?”
Eddy blinked. “Chazz Falcone?”
“Uh-huh. Big real estate guy?”
“Of course I know Chazz Falcone! What about him?”
“Two of his goons were seen taking down Vic’s body from Town Square half an hour ago. They were dressed like cops but it was definitely them. I’d recognize that idiot Carew’s melon head everywhere, and Vale has always looked like a ferret and he still does.”
Eddy cursed inwardly. This wasn’t good. In fact this was starting to turn into his worst nightmare. “Get me those guys. And get me my boy’s body.”
“What about Chazz Falcone?”
“Never mind about Chazz Falcone. I just want my boy, and the people who killed him deader than dead.”
“Gotcha, boss. Oh, one more thing. Looks like you’ve got some competition on that retrieval thing.”
“What are you talking about? What competition?”
“Some piece of pond scum has been popping up everywhere I go. I first saw him in Grimey Hill, then at that idiot farmer’s place, and now in Town Square.”
“Who is he?”
“Goes by the name of Flint Dickens. Rumored to be an informer for Curtis Whitehouse. Could be working for the fuzz. Could be flying solo on this one.”
Eddy stomped his foot. “Damn, damn, damn!” he growled, gritting his teeth so much they hurt.
“And then there’s the Keystone Kops.”
“Cops? What cops?”
“The Bell woman and the Chief’s daughter and their boyfriends. I keep bumping into them same as this Flint Dickens character.”
“Eh, they’re like bad pennies. They’ve got some neighborhood watch thing going on or something. Like to think they’re big crimebusters. Amateur hour. Ignore them.”
“So what’s going on here, boss?”
“Just get me these other jokers and find me my boy’s body,” he said, and hung up. He saw that his stepdaughter was staring at him intently. “What?” he said.
“You’ve got a vein in your temple that’s about to pop, Eddy. Looks pretty bad. You should see Dr. Moffett. He’s the one that did Mom’s new boobs. Guy’s a miracle worker.”
“Oh, shut your face,” he grunted.
“Aren’t you the sweetheart,” said Gertrude, and went back to reading her magazine.
He had to think. Think! What the hell was going on? Why would Falcone kill Vic? And why was that fool Whitehouse poking around, using a two-bit thug instead of his own people?
He suddenly got an idea. If Chazz wanted war, he could have it. So he picked up his phone again and when the gruff voice growled, “Yah,” he issued the order. The other man was silent for a moment, then said, “Will do, boss,” and disconnected.
That’s what he liked about Pete Gladiola. No questions, no discussion. Just do the job you’re asked to do—boom! And if Chazz Falcone wanted to mess with him, he’d suffer the consequences. An eye for an eye. A son for a son.
His own stepson walked out onto the deck and took the chaise lounge next to his sister. Eddy eyed him malevolently. Parasites. He was surrounded by parasites. Bah!
Chapter 25
“I don’t know what to wear!”
Alice looked up from her own perusal of the closet. “It’s not a fancy dress party, Fee. We’re just going there to figure out what’s going on with this dead body carousel.”
“I know, but everyone is going to be there, and I can’t show up looking like a beggar.”
“Just wear something nice.”
“I don’t have anything nice!”
Alice herself had picked out a nice black dress that accentuated her lithe form. She walked over to Fee’s bedroom. She found her in front of the mirror, surrounded by a sea of clothes. “Where are Rick and Reece, by the way? Shouldn’t they be getting ready by now?”
“Oh, they’ve been ready for ages,” said Fee. “You know what men are like. They just thr
ow on the first thing they see and think they can get away with it.’
“That’s probably because they can get away with it,” said Alice as she studied Fee’s most recent choice. Her friend had picked out a nice floral-pattern summer dress. Nice to go to the fish market, maybe, or the beach, but not to attend what promised to be the biggest party of the season. “I wouldn’t go with that,” she said carefully.
“See? I have nothing to wear! Nothing!”
“What about that gold-colored thing you wore for New Year’s at your mom and dad’s?”
“Probably doesn’t fit me anymore,” Fee grumbled.
Fee had vowed to start going to the fitness club in the New Year. Try that Pilates Reformer thing that had worked so well for Adele. And she’d actually gone once or twice. But then life had gotten in the way and she’d given up.
“Try it on,” said Alice. “You haven’t gained so much.”
Fee dug into her closet for the gold-lamé dress that had been a present from Rick.
“So what do you think we’re going to learn tonight?” asked Alice.
“I’ll bet Deanna is going to be there,” said Fee.
“She wouldn’t.”
“Oh, she will. I have a feeling this is a woman burning to confront Eddy Grabarski.”
“You think?”
“Why else would she be parading his son’s body all over town?”
“So you think she’s the one behind this, huh?”
“Pretty sure of it. Johnny and Jerry are too dumb to figure out a scheme like this.”
“But Chazz isn’t.”
“Chazz would never go around murdering people. No, I think Deanna killed this guy—on purpose or by accident—and then she called in a few favors. Virgil, because he owed her a big one, and Chazz.”
“I wonder how she roped in Chazz,” said Alice.
“No idea, but it must be a doozy. At any rate, whatever it is, I’ll bet she’s been working up to some big showdown, and I’ll bet that’s going to take place tonight.”
“But she’ll be arrested if she shows her face.”
“Maybe not. Your dad seems to be yet another person Deanna has recruited to do her bidding. And if I’m correct—aah, there it is.” She’d finally found the dress and held it up. “Mh…”
“Just try it on. I’ll bet it still fits. So what were you going to say about Deanna?”
“Well, I think there’s going to be fireworks tonight, that’s for sure, and I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.” She started squeezing herself into the dress. “Even if I have to look like a sausage trapped inside a gold-lamé casing to do it.”
“You don’t look like a sausage,” said Alice. “Here, let me help you.” After some moments spent pulling and tugging, she said, “How do you feel about Spanx?”
Downstairs, Rick and Reece were patiently waiting for the ladies to join them. Rick had made himself a cup of instant coffee, while Reece was snacking on a dark chocolate bar.
“I can’t believe how you can eat that stuff and still be in the shape you are,” said Rick.
“It’s not difficult,” said Reece. “You just have to will it.”
“Will it?” Rick laughed. “That’s just about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You can’t will yourself into shape.”
“Oh, yes, you can,” said the actor, breaking off another piece and putting it into his mouth. He closed his eyes. “Mh. Belgian chocolate. Possibly the best in the world.”
“So humor me,” said Rick. “How do you will yourself into shape?”
“Well, first of all you have to visualize yourself in the best shape of your life.”
“Uh-uh,” said Rick, trying to imagine himself with the kind of six-pack abs Reece seemed to have been born with.
“Then you have to tell yourself, ‘I’m in the best shape of my life.’”
“I’m in the best of my life,” said Rick, nodding.
“Say it like you mean it, Ricky. Repeat after me.” He threw out his arms and shouted, “I’m in the best shape of my life!”
“I’m in the best shape of my life!” Rick said, a little louder.
“I can’t hear you!”
“I’m in the best shape of my life!” Rick shouted.
“That’s it! Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Rick lifted his shirt and checked his stomach. “Huh. Looks like it didn’t work.”
“Yeah, but you forgot the most important part,” said Reece, tucking the chocolate away in the cupboard.
“What’s that?”
“You have to spend two hours in the gym every day and work out like a maniac.”
Rick rolled his eyes. “Huh. I knew there was a catch.”
Reece dropped down on the couch. “Sometimes I wonder, though, Ricky.”
“Wonder about what?”
“If I chose the right approach to this acting thing.”
“You must have picked the right approach. You’re doing very well, aren’t you? Hit movie after hit movie?”
“Yeah, but how long can it last? I mean, I’m always taking on these action hero parts. But how long can you have an action hero body? Into your forties? Fifties? Sixties? And then what? Turn into a joke? A laughingstock?” He shook his head. “I should have gone after the character parts, Ricky. That’s where the longevity is, not the musclebound roles.”
“It’s not too late. You can still become a character actor.” He had a hard time picturing Reece as a character actor, though. The man’s entire persona seemed wrapped up in the fun but dumb parts he liked to play.
Reece cocked an eyebrow. “You think?”
“Sure. I mean, how about this Hercule Poirot thing? That’s not an action movie.”
“Oh, but it is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hercule Poirot, as I’m playing him, is going to kick ass, dude. It’s going to be like Robert Downey Jr’s Sherlock Holmes. There’s going to be fistfights and lots of action scenes. I’m even going to be rappelling up and down buildings to catch the bad guys. They’re calling it the Hercule Poirot for a new age. It’s going to fit right into the Marvel Multiverse.”
Rick practically choked in his coffee. “This is a Marvel movie?”
“Didn’t I mention that? They’re adding Hercule Poirot to the MCU. He’s some kind of superhero, what with his little gray cells and all. Only in Marvel’s version those little gray cells have been supercharged after Hercule got involved in a nuclear power plant accident. In fact his brain is so powerful it actually emits a weird glow in the dark, and can do the work of ten supercomputers.” He settled back, and didn’t seem to notice the look of horror and shock on Rick’s face. “So yeah, I’m not so sure about this direction. Maybe I’ll have to talk to my agent about going for the more talky movies. You know, the boring ones.”
“Yeah, you do that,” said Rick, shaking his head. Hercule Poirot as a Marvel superhero. What was next? William Shakespeare as an action hero? Just then, he thought he saw movement through the window.
“Rick, get down!” suddenly yelled Reece, and jumped right on top of him.
The next moment, shots rang out, and peppered the wall behind Rick with a hail of bullets.
Darn it! Rick thought as the entire living room erupted into a battle scene.
I’ve just landed myself in the middle of a Reece Hudson movie!
Chapter 26
The attack ended as abruptly as it had started. The hail of bullets stopped, and suddenly everything was quiet again, apart from the roar of a motorcycle engine out on the street, fading away.
Then Fee was storming down the stairs, Alice right behind her. They burst into the living room just as Rick and Reece ducked their heads from behind the coffee table.
“What happened?” asked Rick, looking dazed.
“We were shot at, Ricky!” said Reece, and he looked a lot more cheerful than he had any right to. “Shot at by a vicious killer!”
“Rick!” Fee cried, and streaked forward,
and then she was checking her man for bullet holes.
“I’m all right,” said Rick finally. “Reece saved my life. He actually saved my life.” He sounded surprised.
Reece was punching the air. “I saw a shadow cross in front of the window, and then I saw this weird dude raise what looked like a semi-automatic or whatever. So I ducked right on top of Ricky a second before the dude started shooting! Whew! What a trip!”
“Are you all right, babe?” asked Alice, checking to see if he was hurt.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, the smile suddenly wiped from his face and his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I just heard the shooting and I thought... Oh, Reece.” She threw herself into Reece’s arms just as Fee threw herself into Rick’s.
“I thought you were dead,” said Fee. “I thought I would find you drowning in a pool of your own blood.”
“Now why would I go and do a silly thing like that?” asked Rick.
She gave him a gentle slap on the chest. “What did you do this time, Rick? Did you write an article about the Taliban and they’ve sent one of their guys after you? Or the American Cosa Nostra? What?”
“I haven’t written about anything like that in a while,” he said. “In fact the most controversial article I’ve written the last couple of months was about sexism in Silicon Valley. And I highly doubt the bosses of Uber, Facebook or Google are going to hire a hitman to take me out. No, this must have something to do with Grabarski. I mean, what else can it be?”
“Unless they were actually gunning for me,” said Reece. “Hollywood is a tough town. Many are called but few are chosen, if you know what I mean. Anyone could have decided to take a swipe at the king of the box office, hoping to take my place.”
“I’ve never heard of Hollywood actors killing other Hollywood actors,” said Rick.
“Well, it happens,” said Reece. “Not often, but it does.”
“I think Rick’s theory sounds more plausible,” said Alice.
“Maybe we shouldn’t go to this party tonight,” said Fee. “Maybe we should just stay home and be safe.”