The Maine Nemesis

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The Maine Nemesis Page 23

by R Scott Wallis


  ​Lois got to her feet. “No, honey. You must have misunderstood us. Come sit down and we’ll have some breakfast. We were just talking about how horrible this week has been for everyone in Wabanaki. Charlie, would you like some oatmeal or a banana, baby? Midge! Midge!!”

  ​Karen eyed Porter as she eased into a chair. She leaned closer to him and whispered, “You’re going to upset the child.”

  ​Porter felt tears well up, but he controlled himself the best he could. He rose and walked out the kitchen door without saying another word to anyone.

  “Fucking bitches,” he said as he walked back to his apartment over the garage. “Stupid. Fucking. Bitches.”

  * * *

  ​The crew had arrived early and a command center was set up under a large white tent in Skyler’s backyard. They were busy constructing a makeshift control room in the dining room, and in the kitchen, bright television lights were being rigged. Cables ran everywhere, three digital video cameras were set up on tripods, and the downstairs laundry room was transformed into a makeup area. There were two large trucks parked on the street and another half dozen cars in the driveway. Skyler stood on the front porch with a mug of coffee and it dawned on her that they’d never applied for permits for any of this. She went inside to find the star of the show.

  ​Brenda was sorting through boxes of produce that an assistant had shopped for at the local farm stands the afternoon before. Pleased with the haul, the chef turned her attention to the fresh seafood sitting in a big plastic cooler filled with shaved ice. Brenda’s second in command was busy preparing all the recipes that would appear on the episode so that they’d have ‘after’ dishes ready for still photographs and to be presented as if Carissa and Brenda had cooked them in real time. It was all quite a complicated orchestration. A cameraman pushed by Skyler while asking her to fetch him a cup of coffee.

  ​“I’m not a stage hand, sir,” she said softly, but he was already out of earshot. She approached Brenda and tapped her on the shoulder. “I think maybe I should leave. This is killing me.”

  ​“Darling, this house will be 110 percent back to normal by 5 o’clock. This is one of the best crews and production teams in the business or I would never have brought them all up from New York. I swear, by dinnertime tonight, you’ll never be able to tell that any of this happened. And no one is allowed upstairs except Carissa, so if you need to get away for a bit, go up there.”

  ​“I’m choosing to trust you, because I love you so much,” Skyler said.

  ​“Do me a favor?” Brenda asked as she sliced lemons. “Go check on Carissa and see if she needs anything?”

  ​Skyler saluted her friend and climbed the stairs to the second floor. The guestroom door was open and she found the singer sitting at the desk in front of an array of beauty products. It looked more like the makeup counter at a department store than a bedroom. “Can I come in?”

  ​“Of course, darling,” Carissa said. She rose and twirled around. “What do you think of this cute dress? I thought it’d look great on TV. It’s from the Carissa Lamb Collection, available exclusively on QVC, of course.”

  ​“You never stop selling, do you?” Skyler said as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. “How’s the room. Did you sleep well last night?”

  ​“Like a rock,” she sang. “The room is lovely. I especially like the little balcony and the view of the ocean. The breezes here are just something else. And the smells! Clean and vibrant and pure. Las Vegas is all smoke and mirrors and bad decisions.”

  ​“Smoke, Mirrors, and Bad Decisions would make a great album title.”

  ​Carissa’s face lit up. “You are so right! I’m writing that down. I can steal it from you, yes?”

  ​“Steal it? You’re the one who said it first. It’s yours.”

  “Good. I have an album due in September of next year. That might sound like a ways away, but in the industry, it might as well be tomorrow. I have to line up producers and writers and editors and…it’s a monumental, pain-in-the-ass process these days.”

  ​ “How important are albums in this day of streaming everything and Apple Music and all of that? I mean, I can pay a flat monthly fee and listen to virtually everything through my iPhone. I don’t have to buy albums or singles anymore. I’m not sure how it all works financially.”

  ​“You’ve got to learn all about it if you’re going to represent me,” Carissa said. She sat back down at the desk and worked on her eye shadow. “There are makeup people down stairs who think they’re doing this for me, but I have my special guy in Las Vegas and I have myself. And I just want to do it myself. Otherwise I come off looking like a whore.”

  ​“About the music?”

  ​“Oh yeah. I get royalties from the companies that license the music to the streaming services. So, every time a song of mine plays in a department store, or a nightclub, or in an elevator, or through your iPhone, I get, maybe, a fraction of a cent. But all those fractions of cents add up over time. And people still do pay for tracks and they still buy full albums, too, and my record label demands one every few years. I made a deal with Original Day Records a few years ago that requires one more album and an international tour. The tour part is going to be tough.”

  ​“Because of Vegas.”

  ​“Exactly. I mean, I have to do the Cactus shows for 24 weeks, so that leaves half a year to tour. But all those Vegas weeks aren’t in a row and when you tour you can’t just have the whole team sitting around for a week doing nothing while I’m on stage at the Cactus. Do you have any idea how much that would cost?”

  ​“A lot.”

  ​“A fuck load. So,” the singer said, “I’ll really be screwed. I obviously have a very bad management team and it’s time I made some major changes. I need people who think these things through, damn it. And before you say it, yes, I should have thought this shit through for myself. But I was busy! I was on a tour down in Australia and Asia and I had a million balls in the air. It’s my fault. And it’s my fault that I didn’t study that Cactus contract more carefully to realize they were making hundreds of millions more than I was.” She turned around and looked at Skyler and pouted. “Do you feel sorry for me?”

  ​“Not really. I do well, but not private jet and macadamia farm well. You could have worse problems.”

  ​Carissa let out a roar of laughter and joined Skyler on the bed. “I like you very much and you’re welcome at my macadamia nut farm anytime you want to come. Actually, it would be fun to go together…because I’ve never been to Hawaii.”

  ​“You own a farm in Hawaii and you’ve never been there?”

  ​“It was a friend of a friend of a friend’s who got cancer and was dying and needed the money because he had the place triple mortgaged and I felt bad, so I bought it. But it’s worth twice what I paid for it and it produces a nice income, so it ended up being a good deal. Macadamias are expensive.”

  ​“I guess compared to other nuts they are, huh? They’re also very creamy and satisfying,” Skyler said.

  ​“They are. And my farm produces 20% of the world’s production.”

  ​“That sounds like a lot. I think you’re doing well. What do you need me for?”

  ​The singer stood up and straightened her dress. Skyler wasn’t quite sure why she’d made such a sudden move until she realized that Leonard had entered the room.

  ​“Sorry to interrupt,” the police officer said, “but there’s about a hundred people outside gumming up the street. I guess word got out that you were here.”

  ​Carissa smiled sweetly and batted her eyes. “Do you think you can make them go away, Lenny? I’d hate to be the cause of any trouble. The neighbors must hate us right about now.”

  ​“I’ll see what I can do. Sky, can I talk with you down stairs for a moment?”

  ​“Sure.” Skyler stood up to leave but turned back to the singer. “Brenda says they plan to start taping at 11 o’clock.”

  ​“Thank you, sweetie. I really
do appreciate all of this. And I know Brenda does, too. You’re a doll to allow us to use the house. It’s so cute!”

  Downstairs, Skyler followed Leonard out the front door. They marveled at the crowd of people that had gathered to try to catch a glimpse of the superstar, then walked around the side of the house where there was a semblance of privacy.

  ​“This is all just so insane,” Skyler said.

  ​“It’ll be over soon. You’re doing a good thing, helping a friend like this.”

  ​“How am I helping a friend? Brenda could walk into any restaurant in this town and use their kitchen for the show. Everyone knows her and would love to have their place featured on national television.”

  “Okay, I get all of that, obviously,” Leonard said. “But she wants to do it in your cottage because you have a kickass kitchen and the house has Maine written all over it. But this isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. My father got another mysterious typewritten note.”

  “Oh shit. About?”

  ​He pulled a copy from his pocket and handed it over.

  ​Skyler was distracted by Leonard’s outfit. “Wait! What the hell are you wearing?”

  ​He turned around to show off his new uniform. “Courtesy of Mayor Moneybags next door. Like it? We all got four sets. No more fucking brown. I won’t be mistaken for a UPS driver anymore.”

  ​“You look very sharp.”

  ​“Sharp enough that you’d want to sit on my dick tonight?”

  ​Skyler stepped back. “Did you just say that out loud? With all of these people around? What is wrong with you? Sit on your dick. Come on.”

  ​“Do you want to?”

  ​“I do.”

  ​“Good. What do you think of the note?”

  ​“I think we need to get ahold of Augie Alameda, for starters.”

  ​“That’s exactly what my dad said. Do you know how to do that?”

  ​Skyler pulled her phone out of her pocket and consulted her contacts. “Yeah, he’s in here. I hate him, but we’ve worked together on a few things. How do we want to proceed?”

  ​“Well, I don’t think we want to have a speaker phone conversation with him with all these people around.”

  ​Skyler half smiled, but her eyes gave it all away. “Let’s go up to my room.”

  ​“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  “Do you have to ruin it by talking like a horny college freshman all the time?

  “I never went to college.”

  “You don’t say.”

  * * *

  ​Sheriff Little drove his truck as far as he could get up the street then pulled over and parked several houses away from the corner. He got out and started walking, aghast at the hubbub of pedestrians, trucks, and cars. He scolded a man for littering on the sidewalk, asked a woman to get down from the car she was standing on, then made his way into Skyler’s front yard. There he found a woman with a clipboard and a headset.

  ​“What exactly is going on here?”

  ​“Are you with the security team? I think you’ll want to check-in out back under the tent. Ask for Johnny.”

  ​Disgusted, the Sheriff continued into the house just as Brenda was descending the stairs. “Sheriff! How are you? Can you believe all of this?”

  ​“I have no idea what all of this is,” he said, “but we’re getting a lot of calls. The neighbors are complaining. And Mayor Millhouse even called. That’s never good.”

  ​“I am so sorry that no one thought to call your office. This is a taping of my television show. We’re doing an episode with Carissa Lamb, right here in Wabanaki!”

  ​“Who?”

  ​Brenda was dumbfounded. “Carissa Lamb. She’s a singer and an actress. She’s like one of the most famous women in the world.”

  ​“If she’s not a country music singer, I probably wouldn’t know her.” He had to move to avoid two men carrying a large light reflector. “I don’t think we’ve ever had anyone film anything in Wabanaki before, Brenda, so we have no permit process for all of this. So, I guess, technically, you aren’t doing anything wrong. But people can’t get up and down the street or to their driveways. I think that needs to be dealt with and I just don’t have anyone to spare right now.”

  ​“I will get the production team right on that,” Brenda said sweetly. “We have two dozen people. I can spare a few.”

  ​“Good. I can’t deal with the wrath of the mayor. Not today.”

  ​Brenda disappeared into the kitchen and the Sheriff left the house just as Skyler and his son were coming back from the side yard.

  ​“Dad!”

  ​“Oh good. Perfect timing,” he said. “Where are you with the Alameda thing?”

  ​“That’s exactly what we’re working on, Sheriff,” Skyler said. “We’re going to go look for a quiet place and try to get ahold of him.”

  ​“Okay. Text me when you know something,” the Sherriff said. “I’m on my way to the Shanty site. The crews are starting to clear that mess out of there today.” He started to leave, but turned back. “Skyler. Do you have any idea where Tanner Millhouse is?”

  ​“I don’t. Is he missing?”

  ​“I don’t know. I told him not to leave town, but no one has seen him since Sunday night. He hasn’t been at the Chowder House, his house, or the mayor’s. This looks very bad for him.”

  ​Skyler was crestfallen and deeply concerned. Tanner still wasn’t responding to her umpteen calls and texts and he wasn’t showing up on her ‘Find my Friends’ app either. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

  ​“He’ll turn up,” Leonard interjected. “He knows he’s in enough trouble as it is.”

  ​“I hope you’re right,” the Sheriff said. “Because if he doesn’t appear somewhere in this town by sunset, I’m putting out an APB for his arrest.”

  ​They watched as the Sheriff walked away, then Skyler turned to Leonard. “Tanner’s not coming back.”

  ​“I don’t think so either.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  ​After a quick make out session on her bed—they decided to save the main event for later—Skyler and Leonard pulled themselves together and she called Augie Alameda’s cell number. Surprisingly to her, he answered straight away.

  ​“Skyler Moore, I do declare” he said dryly. “I’m about to get on a plane. What can I do for you?”

  ​“Augie, I’ll make this short. I’m in Wabanaki and I’m helping the police department with a murder case.”

  ​They could hear him nearly choke. “A what?! Have you given up public relations work to become a cop? Are times that bad?”

  ​“Stop being an ass for a moment and listen to me.”

  ​“Brenda told me about the Sheriff’s daughter-in-law when I was in town. Is that what we’re talking about?”

  ​“Yes, kind of. An unsigned note was delivered to the police department offices and it indicates that you were paid by a Miami, Florida business man named Ricardo Solis purportedly to promote Wabanaki. Is that true?”

  ​“Skyler,” he began, “I already told Brenda this: I have no idea who paid me. The money was wired to my checking account. I had my bankers run a check and the money came from a numbered account in the Cayman Islands. There’s no name associated with the account. It could literally be anyone in the world. I was asked to promote your little town and I did it. That’s literally all I know.”

  ​“It just seems very odd to us that you’d agree to take $150,000 from an unknown person.”

  ​“Why is that odd? It’s not like I was doing something even remotely illegal or immoral or questionable. If they’d asked me to do something I disagreed with or found offensive, I wouldn’t have accepted the money. But exactly what’s untoward about promoting Wabanaki? And it’s working, am I wrong?”

  ​“You are not wrong,” Skyler said. “It’s working beautifully and the tourist numbers are already up significantly. The town thanks you for that.”

  ​Leonard was gettin
g annoyed and he indicated that Skyler should wrap it up.

  ​“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” Augie said. “My flight is boarding. I need to go.”

  ​“Thank you, Augie. Have a good flight.”

  ​“It’s commercial, Skyler,” he said. “So how good could it be?” And he ended the call.

  ​“What now?” she asked.

  ​“I think we need to talk to Solis again, obviously.”

  ​“He’ll just deny it whether he did it or not. And, anyway, what does it even prove if he did pay Augie to promote Wabanaki? That’s not illegal. What the hell does he get out of it? None of this makes any sense.”

  ​“Well, someone thinks it’s important enough to send us on this wild goose chase.”

  ​Skyler thought about that for a moment. “Perhaps that’s the whole point. It could be a smoke screen to keep the police off the right track.”

  * * *

  ​Downstairs, the taping had begun, and despite all the madness of the morning, all was suddenly quiet and serene in the house when the director called for ‘action.’ Brenda immediately transformed into the sweet television chef that the viewers were accustomed to, easily commanding her razor-sharp knife and local ingredients, and warmly conversing with her special guest. After briefly gushing over the superstar and thanking her for doing the show, Brenda explained where they were and what they’d be preparing that day.

  ​And Carissa was a true sport. She was less crass on camera than her real self, portraying an interested, energetic helper to Brenda’s lead. Together they’d make three Wabanaki-themed dishes: a lobster club sandwich with bacon, lettuce, and tomato on a fresh brioche roll; lobster mac and cheese with New Mexican-inspired roasted chilies; and, a lobster ravioli dish that filled the house with a buttery, rich scent that wafted out to the fans who had gathered on the sidewalk.

  The 44-minute episode took a little over three hours to get on tape and they finally broke by mid-afternoon. Brenda and Carissa were busily eating the dishes they had created while the team started packing up around them.

 

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