by G L Rockey
I wondered at the marvel of it all, thinking back when this began, Berry's debt to Snakebite, my stupidity for getting involved with his solution. But how can you know in the land of busy intersections, faulty red lights, who you're going to run into. I thought of Gillian. Gillian was worth anything, even this nightmare unfolding in the full light of my dingy office.
Peggy snatched up her purse. “Like I said, nobody, not even the great Jack Carr treats Peggy Moore like a two-bit pickup.” She went to the door and paused, looking back at me, hunkered down, like a wounded wolverine. “You know, Jack, you ought to be more careful, there's all kind of things going around these days.”
I applauded softly.
She opened the door and said, mostly for Joy benefit: “How much did you have to pay for that piece of ass, Jack dear?”
“Not as much as you.”
Peggy stepped back into the office, her eyes frozen on me, she asked, “You know she's got blood?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Little mouse.”
“Could be.”
Her face turning the color of a surgical glove, she sneered “cocksucker”, spun, and left.
CHAPTER 32
Real Time
2:50:02 P.M. CDT
Sago received a call from Detective Jerry Little. S-Stuff, he had a tip. It seemed that same Chuck guy kept popping up in the national missing kids database.
Little: “Guy's outta Houston, we're tracking it further, let ya know.”
Sago's eyes narrowed, he whispered, “Snakebite's friend.”
“Tracking that too.”
“Thanks Jerry, hey, anything on that Gillian Phoenix.”
“Nope.”
CHAPTER 33
Jack’s Time
After Peggy departed my office, Joy brought me a mug of coffee flavored with one of her patented Joy looks. She said, “I told you about that bitch!”
“Joy!”
“You're welcome.” She paused. “You didn't did you?”
“No.”
She cast her I-know-better look, left, and I, sipping, took a minute to regroup.
Minute or so up, I pressed Felix The Cat's phone number. Angelo answered, I put my hand over the mouthpiece, raised my voice, said, “Hello, this is Ace Collections, we understand you have a Ms. Gillian Phoenix working there, may I speak to….”
“Forgetaboutit Carr.” Angelo hung up.
CHAPTER 34
Real Time
2:59:02 P.M. CDT
Peggy, back in her weather office, kicked a chair against the wall, said, “Little shithole office.” She looked in a desk mirror. Her eyes looked like thumbnail road maps. She threw a makeup case to the floor, flossed her teeth, smoked a Parliament, drummed her fingers. Then she stood and looked at herself in the full length mirror hanging on the wall. She stepped closer, touched her hair, and flung a brush at her image. The mirror broke in three uneven cracks. She stripped and squeezed into the Dillards outfit for the day—pale yellow evening dress with matching one inch heels. She looked again in the mirror, said, “Pissy color, makes me look fat. Bastard.” She ripped the dress off, threw it on the floor, stomped on it, and squeezed back into her black leather. Dressed, she went back to the broken mirror and touched her hair, “Color's not right, Clip ‘en Snip whores, I'll have them all fired.”
She paused for a moment as in thought, sat at her desk, picked up her phone and pressed a number. Waiting for an answer, she wrote Jack on her desk's pad, scribbled it out, circled the scribbling, made a heart around all the scribbling. Then, in quick vicious strokes, she obliterated everything with a large X.
She brightened at a voice on the phone and squeezed words out like molasses: “Hi there pumpkin pie, how ya all doing?”
Click.
She paused, looked at the receiver, then pressed the number again.
After five rings she said, “Snakebite, why you hang up on me?”
She listened then said, “Game? Why darling, ain't no game, I just called to say hello … Snakebite, don't be that way … oh, don't be silly, just a woman thing, didn’t mean nothing … been just thinking 'bout little ol’ you all weekend … am not … it's true … wonder if we could have a little ol’ drinky poo or ah, you know, something.”
Long pause, then she said, “Might be a surprise in it.”
Longer pause then she said, “‘Bout an hour … I'd come over there sweetie pie … oh don't be silly, see you then.”
Peggy hung up, stomped down the hall to the TV12 elevator, entered, and punched the up button.
* * *
Berry, sitting behind his desk, was surprised to see Peggy charging into his office. He stood. “Peggy, I….”
Peggy: “Sit DOWN!”
“Peggy….”
“Shut up.”
Judy closed the door.
Berry said, “What are you doing, barging in here….”
“Sit down!”
He sat.
She leaned over his desk. “I want to get a few things straight.”
“I been trying to call you all weekend….”
“Ha!”
“What happened Friday night?”
“What didn't happen? You better get that news department squared away, buddy boy. I've never seen anything like it in all my born days. No supervision, no discipline, no nothing. And I want a bigger office. Can't even turn around in that shithole Carr put me in. And I want Galbo to tell those jerks at Dillards that I'm not wearing their cheap shit anymore.”
“But….”
“But my petunia, and I want a new car, Jaguar, red one, convertible, you and Galbo have company cars.”
She walked to the bar, poured a shot of vodka, and downed in it.
“But, I….”
“New office, Jaguar, convertible, and I'm not wearing that Dillards shit no more.”
“Jack said you quit Snakebite.”
“Ha! Carr spreading rumors again, all the wimp is good for. Been putting out stories from the beginning about me, stalking me. Ha. Criticizes me all the time, in front of people. Puts his hands on me. Say's I'm stupid, never do anything right, won't leave me alone. I'm going to call the E.E.O.C., F.C.C., the fucking White House, N.O.W.”
“But Snakebite said….”
“Snakebite forgot today, yesterday and doesn't know when tomorrow is.” She poured another shot of vodka and tossed it down.
“Peggy, you can't just walk off a live show….”
“Your wimp news director called me Friday night, just before airtime, ranting and raving that I'm stupid and he is going to fire me, sounded drunk, always is, rattled me, that's why I walked off the set. Don't you see, your wimp news director is trying to get rid of me. Never wanted me on there anyway ‘cause it was your idea. Don't you see the fucking trees in the forest.”
“Peggy….”
“I'm going over to see Snakebite, you still want me to do your weather show or ya all want to work out another arrangement with the Albino's accounting department.”
“Peggy….”
“And as far as our little photo sessions,” she sat on his desk and crossed her legs, “what you want me to tell Snakebite about them pictures you got a’ me between your legs, hmm?”
“I can do a car….”
“Jaguar, red.”
“I can do a Jaguar….”
“Convertible….”
“Convertible, new office, but the Dillards is part of the contact….”
“No Dillards shit, get a model to wear that shit.”
“I….”
”What you want me to tell Snakebite?”
“Tell him, tell him we got a deal, everything is A-okay.”
“Bye.”
CHAPTER 35
Jack’ Time
In my office conjugating, two plus two coming up five, I looked up. Sago entered, sat in the chair next to my desk, said, “Ouch, what's happening?”
“Three guesses, first two count.”
“Gilli
an, Gillian, and Gillian.”
“You win a dozen loads of buffalo chips.”
“Ms. Moore is kinda upset.”
“Now I know why you got out of law,” I said.
“Why?”
“Kinda is too specific.”
“She was spouting things like destroy the Scottish King, crush the family jewels. But she wanted to be slow about it, like, quote, 'blackberries dying on the vine'.”
“What would that be, berries, she would be talking about like that?”
“I think she went up to Frazer's office.”
“Peachy.”
“Trail is getting hotter on S-Stuff, that Chuck guy out of Houston.”
That sent a chill. “We saw that guy, at Felix The Cat, T-bone smile, a week ago, friend of Snakebite's.”
“She called me Tonto.”
“What?”
“Peggy called me Tonto.”
“Consider it a compliment. Find anything on Gillian?”
“Nothing, my guy is checking further.”
“Let me know.”
Just then the P.A. system crackled: “Joe Galbo, front office, Galbo, front office, immediately!”
Berry's voice had a blistering urgency to it.
Sago said, “See you later.”
* * *
After wrestling with fork-in-the-road things, some office stuff, a few routine phone calls, paper work, I looked at Blancpain—3:15. I looked at my desk calendar. Tomorrow Tuesday, Monday was still here. Then I thoughts of Gillian, her gig tonight at Felix The Cat, I picked up the phone and pressed The Cat's number again.
After five rings: “Felix The Cat.”
I recognized Angelo's voice, pinched my nose, raised my timbre and said, “This is the I.R.S., we're looking for a….”
“What's a matter Carr, somebody cut your cojones off?”
“Angelo, how's it going?”
“Maybe you should move to Seattle, I gotta go.”
“Angelo….”
He hung up.
I leaned back and my phone rang. I picked up. Joe Galbo, very agitated, said, “Frazer just laid me lower than Little Black Sambo's ass … what's going on with Moore?”
“I don't know, what?”
“Frazer said I had to get a model to wear Dillards outfits. Moore wasn't going to wear them anymore.”
“Jeez Joe, I don't know. Got any models in mind?”
“She HAS to wear the outfits, that's part of the DEAL.”
He sounded distraught, I said, “Guess you better talk to Berry.”
Before Joe could say another word, the PA system cracked: “Carr, front office, Carr, front office, immediately.”
“Jeez, Joe, you hear that? Berry wants to see me, gotta go.”
“See me as soon as you see Frazer.”
I hung up, leaned back, and twiddled my thumbs.
I didn't hear a second page from Berry. Then around thumb twiddle number seventy-five, my private line rang. I picked up the phone.
“You hear my page?” Berry snapped.
“I was in a meet—”
“What—you—do—to—Peggy?”
“Nothing.”
“I want to see you, immediately, if not sooner.”
“Okay, give me a minute….”
”NOW!” He hung up.
I wondered if I should go to Berry, kiss him on the cheek and, before he fired me, resign. Maybe tomorrow. I felt a grin over my face. Funny thing, hope. You want to see it and yesterday wasn't so bad.
* * *
I looked up. Sago entered again and sat in the chair next to my desk. He said, “Peggy left the building, think she went to see Snakebite.”
“Why would you think that?”
“As she departed the newsroom, she announced to the world that she was going out of the building, had an appointment with Snakebite.”
“Chief, I take back what I said ‘bout you getting out of law.”
“You hear that page from Sally?”
“For Joe?”
“For you.”
“No.”
“Did you step on Snakebite's hat?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“It's all over town.”
“Accident.”
Sago shook his head, studied me for a time, then said, “Ouch. The Tall One, huh Jack?”
“Ten on the Richter.” I scribbled a note on a news release and threw it in my out basket. “You started it all, with that smile stuff.”
“Funny how smiles begin many things. Wanta’ get a quick drink after work?”
“No.” I paused. That amazed me. No, me, to a drink.
“Kemosabe, we haven't had a drink together since Friday.”
“I know. I got that other addiction, makes the other pale in comparison.”
“Lucky you.”
I looked at Sago for a moment. “I really don't think luck has anything to do with it.”
Sago stood and looked down at me. “Did you plan to meet Gillian?”
“No, but I went.”
“White man went. I don't believe you. I went too. But YOU met Gillian.”
“True.”
“That's right, white man, so don't be gumming it up.”
“Gillian said something like that.”
He went to the door. “Gotta go shoot a buffalo for dinner.”
“What about Tony?”
“He gets a Krystal.”
I watched Sago leave and, anxious for Gillian, Berry stood in my doorway. He slammed my door shut and sat in one of my chairs.
CHAPTER 36
Real Time
3:16:00 P.M. CDT
Familiar with the narrow staircase that led to Snakebite's second floor apartment above Felix The Cat, Peggy—her black leather outfit pinch tight, sans gloves, red purse in hand—stepped around broken cocktail glasses, coffee cups, a sweater, socks, beer bottles, and discarded menus, as she made her way up the greasy brown carpeting.
At the top of the stairs she proceeded down a short hallway and looked in Snakebite's office.
Expecting her, sitting in a smoky haze behind his cluttered chrome and glass desk, Snakebite's sunglasses rested on the tip of his nose. His left eye swollen closed, a Marlboro 100 hung from his lower lip. He was nude except for red briefs and a new white cowboy hat. The smell of cigarettes, body odor, and Old Spice hung in the air.
Snakebite took a sip from a bottle of Myer's rum.
Peggy stepped in. “What happened to your eye, suga?”
He pressed his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose, dragged his Marlboro, and said, “Thought you wanted out, bitch?”
She put her purse on his desk, knelt between his legs, and smiled, “Please, spare me a dime.”
Snakebite pinched her nose. “You was making Carr, wasn't ya?”
“Ouch, damn it … no.”
He twisted his pinch. “Ya told me ya loved him.”
“Ouch, he's been after me, jealous, threatened to fire me if I didn't go out with him.”
He pinched harder. “He couldn'ta fired ya, I got Frazer in my hip pocket.”
“Ouch.” Peggy smacked his hand away, pulled his red shorts off, and took his limpness in hand, “You don't know the half of it, television, politics, it ain't no bed of roses.”
“Why you tell me you loved him….”
“Ah, you're so sweet.”
* * *
After a fifteen minute oral marathon, freshening up in Snakebite's bathroom, Peggy called, “Here you had a run-in with Jack Carr.”
“Where ya hear that?”
“Little mouse.”
“Motherfucker is parts.”
Peggy returned, and sat on Snakebite's lap. She toyed with his right ear, “Speaking of Carr and Kittens, I hear one a’ your little Kittens is hooked up with him.”
Snakebite stiffened, thinking, eyes squinted in suspicion, “What's all the shit about Carr all a sudden?”
“Snakebite.”
He pushed her off his lap, “Tha
t why you’s here, he dumped ya for a….” blinking, Kitten registered, “What Kitten?”
“Gillian Phoenix.”
Snakebite took a sip of rum. “Who told ya that?”
“Stella.”
“When you see Stella?”
“I had lunch at the Knife & Fork.”
He pinched her stomach, “Stella ain't supposed to be talkin’ to you.”
“Ouch, stop that.” She pushed his hand away. “We been friends since ever, whata’ ya think, she's gonna fall off the earth.”
He rolled that around, then took a sip. “So what'd Stella say?”
Peggy settled back on his lap, “She saw them Sunday, riding around on that bitch’s motorcycle.”
He paused, thought, then smacked her face. “Ya fucking with me ain’t ya, tryin’ to get back at Carr, ain't ya.”
She stood and shouted, “Son of a bitch, I just told you what he's been doing to me, threatin’, harassin’ the shit outta me.” She pouted. “You never did love me, just using me.”
He pulled her back down on his lap. “Baby.”
He took a drink of rum. “Stella's got it wrong, couldn't be one a’ my Kitten, know better, they’d be parts.”
“Call her up, ask her.”
“I will.” He kissed her shoulder, “Wanta’ come back, sing Saturday nights my club?”
“I might, but you have to get rid of that bitch, Phoenix, I won't be seen in the same place with her.”
He snarled and pushed her, “I told ya, Stella got it wrong.” Then, “Ya are jealous, ain't ya.”
“Goddamn it, no, I just hate troublemakin’ bitches and that's what she is.” She ran her index finger around his ear. “I might just quit TV all together, just go to singing full time … at our club, still got that ring ya was gonna give me.”
“Baby.”
She stood and walked to the door.
“Where ya going?”
“TV station, honey bun, I gotta do my weather show.”
“Fuck me, ya just said ya was gonna quit.” He threw the bottle of rum at the wall.
“Honey bun.”