The Cherry Pages

by Gary Ruffin

  “Yes, she does, but she hasn’t made it out here yet. There’ll be plenty of time to get cussed out by my charming wife.” He barely got the last few words out through the pain, but I couldn’t keep from laughing, even though I tried.

  I pointed out, “Man, you are one sorry P.I. Aren’t you guys supposed to spend all your time fightin’ and lovin’? Just please tell me that you’re not lying in a pile of horse manure.”

  Now it was his turn to try not to laugh. I could see him smiling through the pain as he said, “Will you just get your tail up here and help me out?”

  “Well, I guess I can. If it won’t take too long. And, if you need me to save your ass yet again.”

  “I do. And bring your Christmas gun.”

  I rarely wear my gun in Gulf Front, since it’s such a small town. I had lost my ancient Smith and Wesson while working a case with Neal last year in New Orleans, and Penny, my on-and-off girlfriend and fellow police officer, had given me a new Glock .45 for Christmas.

  “Will do,” I said. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Another long story, but I’ll make it short for now. I’ll call you after I get my ankle taken care of, and fill you in. The deal is, I’ve got a celebrity comin’ to town tomorrow who needs her body guarded. And lemme tell you, bud, this is one body you’re gonna love guardin’.”

  2

  “SINCE I’M THE CHIEF OF POLICE IN GULF FRONT, IT WOULDN’T BE A problem for me to take a little time off to go help Neal out of a jam,” I said. “I know I took a few months off last year, but I still have a whole bunch of vacation coming to me. The town didn’t blow up the last time I left, so there’s no real reason I shouldn’t go to Atlanta. Besides, you just don’t leave a man in the lurch when he’s got a broken ankle and eight mouths to feed.”

  I was practicing how I was going to tell Officer Penny Prevost about my Atlanta trip, and the above were my reasonable reasons. They sounded good as I said them out loud to my dog, and Bum looked at me as if he agreed with every word.

  But I couldn’t come up with anything to say after I told Penny that I was going to Atlanta to be Cherry Page’s personal bodyguard. One thing was certain, I needed a really good reason for leaving before I confronted Officer Prevost with the news, because it’s hard to come up with an explanation when you’re running away from an armed woman at top speed.

  Neal had said that the bodyguard job had fallen into his lap when Sally Allen, Ms. Page’s personal assistant, had been shopping at Phipps Plaza, and noticed Neal’s office in the mall. Sally had been “quite impressed, really” with Feagin’s background as a homicide detective in New Orleans, which meant she’d probably be impressed with me, too, since I spent three years as a homicide detective in Tallahassee.

  After talking with Neal for a few minutes and explaining that she needed a bodyguard for Ms. Page, Sally Allen secured his services on the spot. The studio wanted someone who could be under their employ, and at their beck and call. Neal assured Sally Allen that he was the man for the job, and she agreed. When Neal broke his ankle the following day, he called and secured my services on the spot.

  The reason Ms. Page needed someone more qualified than just a standard bodyguard was that she had received a death threat online while in her London home. Scotland Yard had notified Interpol and the FBI, among others, and the Bureau had traced the message to a computer in Midtown Atlanta.

  They’d stormed the place with a SWAT team, and found the body of a twenty-eight-year-old Caucasian male in the bathroom, his throat cut from ear to ear. His name was Daniel Cullen, an employee at a florist’s shop by day, and a drag queen by night. Being dead, he was written off as a suspect, and a thorough examination of the premises had begun.

  The only other fingerprints found in the house belonged to his parents and his live-in lover, a forty-year-old Caucasian male by the name of Peter Shelton. Shelton was the manager of Backdoor Cabaret, a Midtown drag club, and had met Daniel at the florist shop.

  When Daniel applied for a job as emcee of the nightclub, Shelton hired him on the spot after seeing him dressed in drag as his alter ego, Danni Girl.

  Peter Shelton was questioned, and released when he was able to prove that he had been in Miami at the time the online message was sent to Cherry Page. Shelton had phoned home the morning Daniel’s body had been found, and left a message that was still on Daniel’s voice mail.

  The computer keyboard had been wiped clean, and no other trace evidence could be found, so the only thing the FBI knew for sure was that the stalker had sent the message from Daniel Cullen’s home computer. They couldn’t be certain, but they assumed the perpetrator was still in or near the area. How the perp knew that Cherry Page was coming to Atlanta to shoot her next film was not known.

  Knowing all this gave me ample ammunition to fire at Penny about my leaving. Surely she could see that Neal needed me to come help on something so important.

  “And, just because the client happens to be a beautiful movie star, well, that’s purely incidental as well as coincidental. Right, boy?”

  Right.

  Another thing I was worried about is the fact that Penny is the world’s biggest Cherry Page fan, and that would make it doubly hard to tell her about the bodyguard job. If it was just any woman, it would be bad enough, but her favorite movie star? Yikes.

  I’ve seen Cherry Page a few times on late-night TV and other shows, but I’ve never actually seen one of her films. There’s not a movie theater in Gulf Front, and I only have basic cable, so I don’t see many movies except old ones, which are my first choice, anyway. One thing I do know about Ms. Page: Even though she isn’t blond, she’s known as the “British Marilyn Monroe,” because her figure leans more towards the voluptuous as opposed to the stick figures that pass for movie stars in today’s Hollywood.

  Allow me to rephrase. Her figure doesn’t just lean towards the voluptuous, it defines voluptuous. From looking at her, it’s easy to tell her curves are all natural, too. That’s another point for her, since I prefer real curves to man-made.

  Appropriately, she’s also known for her thick red hair, which she wears fairly long. It’s a medium shade, and has a wave in it reminiscent of a star from the forties. Then there are her famous green eyes, which are large and wide set. She’s consistently mentioned whenever the question arises as to who is the most beautiful woman in the world, and I can see why.

  And another thing I know about her. She’s gonna make Penny jealous like no other woman on earth could ever do.

  I practiced my “Why I Must Leave Town, Penny” speech on my dog for a few more minutes as I packed my bags, and felt a little bit better after each run-through. Then I made a couple of fried-egg sandwiches, drank some chocolate milk with them, and took a shower so I’d look my best when I laid down the law to Penny.

  My courage all screwed up, me and Bum headed over to Penny’s beach cottage, which her uncle rents to her for a pittance. It’s small, but sits right on the beach, and it’s perfect for one or two people. Not that I have any plans to move in anytime soon, I’m just saying.

  I left Bum in the patrol car with the windows cracked, and made my way around to the front porch, which faces the ocean. I knocked on the door, and listened to the wind chimes I’d given Penny when she moved into the cottage. I’d decided against bringing my dog inside, in case there were fireworks, because he’s still young and I don’t want to expose him to the ugly side of life just yet.

  Penny was in bed since she didn’t have to be on duty until the evening shift. After a minute or so, I could see her walking to the door through the leaded glass that covers the top half. I braced myself, and took a deep breath.

  Penny opened the door, and said, “Hi, you. Whatcha doin’ here before noon on a Sunday? Is somethin’ wrong?”

  “No, no. Nothin’ is wrong. Lemme in and I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

  She opened the door wider, and I walked in and took a seat on the sofa in the small living room. Penny remained standing in f
ront of me, dressed in a tee shirt and a pair of my boxers, waiting to hear my reason for coming over. The look on her face left no doubt that she was suspicious of my intentions. She pulled her long black hair back over her shoulders as she waited for me to speak.

  I said, “I just wanna run an idea by you, see how you feel about it. I need to leave Gulf for a week or so, maybe longer, and I just wanted to come by and give you a heads-up.”

  This didn’t go over too well.

  She roared, “Now where are you goin’? You’ve barely been home for five minutes! What could possibly make you wanna leave again?”

  “Well, Neal called this mornin’, and it seems he’s gotten himself into a little jam up in Atlanta, and he needs me to come help him get through it.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me that he’s got another murder for you to try and solve. You know what happened the last time you two worked a case together. Are you tryin’ to put me in an early grave? What could be so important that he has to have you come up there? He’s a big boy—can’t he find someone else this time?”

  “Actually, no. This is a special job that requires someone with exceptional skill and ability.”

  Penny calmed down somewhat, smiled, and said, “Then why is he callin’ you?”

  “Very funny, Officer Prevost. Really. Now. I need to leave as soon as I can, and I have a few things to put in order before I head outta town. Would you be willin’ to take over for me as acting police chief like you did last year?”

  Penny glared at me for a moment before saying, “Not until you tell me what the deal is. This better be good, too. I’m not gonna sit around here on my butt worrying about you bein’ on another wild goose chase. So, what’s the deal?”

  “Okay, you’re not gonna believe this. And don’t jump to conclusions. Just don’t jump to conclusions. This is strictly business.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, cocked her hip to one side and stared.

  “Well?” she said.

  The time had come. No more stalling. I jumped in with both feet.

  “The deal is—what’s happening is—okay, Neal got a job as a bodyguard for Cherry Page, yes, the Cherry Page, who’s gonna be makin’ a film in Atlanta, and he fell off his horse and broke his ankle this mornin’, so he obviously won’t be able to handle the work, so he wants to hire me to come up and take over for him and be her bodyguard because she got a death threat on her computer that the FBI traced to Atlanta, and I hafta be there as soon as possible to meet up with Ms. Page, so I can start guardin’ her body. Like that.”

  Penny said nothing for a moment, then asked, “What are you really goin’ to Atlanta for?”

  “I just told you. Cherry Page got a death threat, needs a bodyguard, and yours truly is the only man for the job.”

  Penny then did something completely unexpected.

  She flew across the room, jumped me on the sofa, hugged me tighter than she’s ever hugged me, and screamed, “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard! I thought you were kiddin’! Cherry Page? She’s only the greatest actress in the world, not to mention the most beautiful! This is unreal! I’ve gotta call my parents, Mama’s gonna have a fit! Wait! Tell me all about it. Sit back—fill me in. This is absolutely fantastic. Of course I’ll watch the town while you’re away! Wait. There’s one condition, and it’s completely nonnegotiable.”

  Stunned by her reaction, I asked dumbly, “What’s that?”

  “You have to promise—and I mean swear on your mother’s grave—you’ll bring her down to Gulf Front so I can meet her. You know that she’s my absolute favorite celebrity of all time. If I were a man, I’d marry her. I can’t believe this. Wait here, don’t you move. I gotta call Mama!”

  She ran to the small kitchen, grabbed the phone off the wall, and feverishly dialed her parents’ number.

  I was shocked by her reaction, and I must admit, somewhat disappointed; a little touch of jealousy was what I had expected. Hell, a huge touch of jealousy was what I had expected.

  Penny and I had gotten back together for the umpteenth time a week before the previous Christmas, after several months of being apart, and jealousy had been the culprit in our breakups more than once. Her jealousy or mine. Then again, a couple of times she had dumped me for reasons that, to my logical male mind, were unfathomable. Men are from Mars, Women are from Left Field.

  I listened as Penny squealed while telling her mom the big news. When she finished, she came back and plopped down on the sofa like she’d just finished running a marathon, the adrenaline starting to ebb.

  I said, “So. You think it’ll be okay for me to take the job.”

  “O-kay? Listen. As acting police chief of Gulf Front, State of Florida, I’m giving you a civic order. You will take this job, and you will bring Cherry Page to meet your chief, meaning me, or I’ll know the reason why. Is that understood, Officer Cooper?”

  “Yes, sir, Chief Prevost, sir. Ma’am. Whatever. I must say, though, this was much easier than I thought it was gonna be.”

  She leaned back, gave me the once-over, and said, “Why is that? What made you think it was gonna be—ohhh, I get it. You thought I’d get all mad and jealous because you’re gonna be a bodyguard for another woman, right? Jealous Penny would have a fit like she always does when you even look at another woman? But you don’t get it. Cherry Page isn’t a woman; she’s an icon, a vision, an unreachable star. You couldn’t get her into bed with a forklift. She’s on another level, another plane entirely. She probably has an English soccer-player boyfriend, or a rock star, or some famous actor in tow. She could have any man on Earth. Not only that, she’s so classy and sophisticated. Did you know that she’s never done a nude scene? She even has it in all her contracts, no nudity of any kind. You can sleep right in her bed for all the good it’s gonna do you. Oh, man, this is so exciting! Do you need any help packing? Have you got everything? Need some wash done real quick? Hurry, let’s get you movin’, big boy!”

  Slightly peeved, I said, “No, I don’t need any wash done, I’m all packed and ready to go. And just so you’ll know, Adam’s gonna keep Bum while I’m gone, so you don’t hafta worry about that, either. Well, if you’re sure everything will be okay here for a while, the studio is sending a plane for me to Pensacola that leaves in three hours.”

  “The studio is sending a plane! This is incredible!”

  Looking for at least a little sympathy, I added, “You know how much I hate to fly. I hope everything works out okay.”

  Ignoring my ploy, Penny asked, “You need a ride to the airport?”

  “No, Adam’s gonna pick me up here in a while, and Neal’s gonna pick me up in Atlanta. I’ll leave you my patrol car so Adam and Earl won’t hafta share.”

  “Okay. Good. That’s great. I still can’t believe it. This is so fantastic. Cherry Page! Unreal.” She paused for a second, and then asked, “Oh, yeah. What’s this about a death threat?”

  “Some guy is threatening her on her computer by instant messenger, and—”

  Penny interrupted, “You’ll have Neal and the FBI behind you, so I’m not worried about your safety. Besides, you proved you can handle just about anything last year, right?”

  “I guess I did, I mean, I’m not worried—”

  “Well, listen, don’t you worry about a thing down here, either. Adam and Earl and me will take care of everything. You just have a safe flight, and call me as soon as you get there.” She paused again for a moment, and then said, “Oh, man, I just thought of somethin’. Wow! You’ll probably be callin’ me from her room! I can’t stand it!”

  I was beginning to feel like maybe I couldn’t stand it either.

  3

  THE PLANE LANDED AT DEKALB-PEACHTREE AIRPORT IN ATLANTA AND a stiff breeze met me as I walked down the steps of the Gulfstream. I heard Neal call my name, and turned to see him on the tarmac in a rolling wheelchair with a cast on his left foot. A young man who was large enough to be an NFL lineman was pushing him towards the plane. I would soon fin
d out that my first impression of the young guy was uncannily accurate.

  We met at the bottom of the steps, and Neal said, “Hey, bud. Welcome to Atlanta. How was your flight?”

  “I have to say, there’s nothing like the star treatment. What a life. No lines, free beer and food, and a good-looking stewardess named Brandy. Not a bad way to fly, considering that flying is insane.”

  He said, “Did you cry and whimper the entire time and embarrass your family like you always do?”

  “Actually, it wasn’t so bad. I only felt like I was gonna die in a fiery crash a coupla hundred times. And I only made Brandy hold my hand twice.”

  “Wow, that’s a major improvement. Just so you know, Brandy is a flight attendant. That’s the proper term.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “That’s what I figured. Here, say hello to the newest addition to Feagin Investigations. Coop, meet Joe Don Kendrick.”

  We shook hands, and both said “nice to meet you.”

  I recognized the name, and asked, “Didn’t you play tight end at Texas? All-American, right?”

  Joe Don beamed, and said, “That’s correct, sir. All-American my junior year, then I missed most of my senior year with an ankle injury. Atlanta drafted me in the sixth round because of my bad ankle, so I didn’t get much money up front. But, I made the team, and got to play in the NFL as a Falcon. For one play.”

  I thought he was kidding at first, but he looked serious.

  “Really?” I asked. “I don’t get to see the Falcons too much down in Florida. Mostly the Bucs and Jaguars. One play? What happened?”

  He replied, “Well, it was pretty bad. In fact, it may be the most embarrassing play in all the history of the NFL. My first play in the season opener against St. Louis, I caught a fourteen-yard touchdown pass on a corner route. Then—like a complete idiot—I got all excited and did the stupidest end-zone celebration of all time. I got up a full head a’ steam, and ran over to try and dunk the ball over the goalpost. Well, I made it goin’ up all right, but I had a little trouble with the comin’ down part. A teammate ran over to hug me while I was up in the air, knocked me off balance, and I came down on that hard indoor St. Louis turf right on my dang knee. Two hundred and fifty-four pounds right on my left knee. I blew it out so bad that I’ve never stepped on a football field since. I had the knee replaced, and I still limp a little, but I can move pretty good nowadays, considerin’. I just hafta stay away from those big meanies on Sunday afternoons in the fall.”