CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Sweet Shanice
Nick was enjoying the flight. The flight attendant was taking a break and sat in the empty chair next to Nick. She was a goddess.
“I hope you don’t mind if I sit here a few minutes,” she asked Nick.
“No, not at all,” he replied. “I’m Nick.”
“My name is Shanice,” said the beautiful African-American flight attendant. “Is this your first trip to Chicago?”
“Actually, it is.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“Business. I’m supposed to be finding a replacement drummer for a band.”
“Are you in the music business?”
“Yeah, I work for Apocalypse Records.”
“You’re kidding?” asked Shanice. “My father made a record for them in the sixties. Maybe you’ve heard of him – Barry Washington.”
“Of course I have,” said Nick. “He was the best jazz artist that ever recorded for Apocalypse. His picture is on our Wall of Fame back at the office. Whatever happened to him?”
“He went on to record with Atlantic, but they never promoted the record. He lost his record deal and became a private music teacher. He still likes to hang out in the jazz clubs in Chicago.”
“That’s a shame,” said Nick. “You know, Mr. Levon always made it a point to promote all the artists he signed to their full potential. I guess that won’t be happening anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Well, we just got bought out by some big company, I have no idea who, and I’m taking orders from my lesbian ex-girlfriend.”
“That sounds like quite a story.”
“Believe me, you don’t want me to get into it.”
“What kind of drummer are you looking for?” Shanice gave Nick a sincere look. He could tell it wasn’t just because of her job requirement. She was sincerely interested.
“A reckless rock drummer. He has to have an abusive image, repulsive attitude, and a fascination with death.” Wow, that came out sounding weird, he thought.
“What about pure talent?”
“That would be a plus.” Shanice reached in her pocket, took out a stack of cards, and gave one to Nick.
“Here’s a card for a club my dad said is one of the best in Chicago. You should check it out. He’s always there on Tuesday nights.”
Nick looked at the card. The Green Mill, Chicago’s Best Jazz, he read. “That doesn’t sound like the kind of place I need to go to find a rock drummer.”
“Well, maybe you’ll find something else you need.”
“You think I need something else?”
“Open your eyes, sugar. I think you were sent here to find more than just a drummer.” The look on her face went from friendly to serious.
Nick started getting nervous. “What makes you say that?”
She looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Nick, you’re on a mission to find something a lot more important than just a drummer.”
“What is the deal with everybody telling me what I’m doing? You just met me. You couldn’t possibly know what kind of mission I’m on. I just told you – I was sent to Chicago to find a rock drummer by the woman who ruined my life.”
“Were you?”
“Yes, I just told you.”
“Why would you go to Chicago all the way from New Lake City, to find something as common as a rock drummer?”
“You’ve got a point there,” he said. “Wait a second. This was all pre-arranged. Jamie sent me here and had the ticket in her hand before she even saw me.”
“Would Jamie be the lesbian ex-lover?”
“Yeah, and she was pretty adamant about me going to Chicago right away. There’s something going on. And why would you tell me that I’m on a mission more important than finding a rock drummer?”
“I have a gift, Nick. My father passed it on to me. I can look into a person’s eyes and tell what’s going on in their mind.”
“Okay, if you’re so talented, what am I thinking now?”
Shanice looked into Nick’s eyes and smiled. “I don’t think my husband would like the idea of me sleeping with you.”
“Wait, that was too easy. Try again.” Nick concentrated and changed his train of thought.
“Let’s see – this ex-lesbian lover hurt you pretty bad. You are – relieved to be getting away from her, but at the same time – I think there is someone else.”
Nick was taken aback. “That was pretty good.”
“I told you I have a gift. Now will you go meet my dad at the Green Mill this evening?”
“Sure, and you never know – I might find what I’m looking for – whatever the hell that is.”
“Let him know who you are. I’m sure he’ll be glad to meet you.” She smiled and got up to wait on the other passengers. Nick started wondering why she just happened to have a card for the Green Mill.
The plane landed at O’Hare International. Nick was the first one off the plane. He turned to tell Shanice good-bye, but she was nowhere to be found. Just as well, he thought. I don’t need to get mixed up with a jealous husband.
Andie and Harold were having dinner at Monty’s Steak House. They had the big corner booth, so they could spread all their files around while still getting something to eat.
“I’m really nervous about this case,” said Andie. “Carlos Verona is such a powerful man. I wonder why Mr. Grimes handed it to me?”
“He has total confidence in you, Andie,” said Harold. “I was telling him today how impressed I am with you.”
“But you haven’t even seen my work.”
He smiled. “Oh, I sure plan to.”
Andie turned red. “Let’s get all these papers in order. I need to get home early so I can be ready for the deposition tomorrow.”
“What’s your hurry? Let’s relax and have a drink.”
“Not a bad idea.”
The drinks were ordered, arrived in a rapid fashion, and went down just as fast. Andie was a little tipsy.
“Wow, these drinks are strong,” she said.
“You’re just tired. You’ve had a big day.”
“And a strange one, too,” Andie added.
“Are you talking about lunch?”
“Yeah. Nick was saying some strange things. And to find out Jamie was a lesbian – that was a real shocker to him.”
“At least we know he doesn’t want to sleep with you. He made that known loud and clear.” Harold displayed a look that that asked if something else was going on between her and Nick.
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. We’re the best of friends. I wonder how he’s doing tonight?”
“I’m sure he’s okay. By the way, how much has he told you about Jamie?”
“You want the whole story? That could take all night.”
“Well, hopefully – we’ve got all night.” He leaned over and gave Andie a long, sensuous kiss.
“That was really nice,” said Andie, with a huge smile. “Can I borrow your phone?”
“Do you have to call somebody to tell them we just kissed?” asked a concerned Harold.
“No, silly. There’s a lot more where that came from. I need to see if Nick’s okay.” She called Nick, but got his machine. “Hi, Nick. I just called to see if you were okay. If you get this message later tonight, don’t call me. I’m going to be busy.” She gave Harold back his phone, and grabbed his hand. “I think it’s time you take me home.” Harold knew he was back on track.
Debbie sat at home, drinking wine and eating ice cream. The phone kept ringing; she refused to answer. Tony gave up and went to her apartment. He banged on the door.
“Sweetheart, my little linguini, for the love of God, please open the door.”
She picked up the phone. “Hello, security? This is Deborah Bailey in apartment twenty-three B. There’s a crazy Italian trying to break into my apartment. Please have him removed.”
The burly security guard showed up at the door within seconds and dragged Tony away.
“Don�
��t do this to me, my darling. Why are you acting this way?” pleaded Tony.
The phone rang and this time, she picked it up. “Hello? - Yes, they just dragged the bastard away - Do I want to press charges? – No, not yet. Just please keep him away from me. Thanks.”
Back at O’Hare International, the next plane from New Lake City arrived. Gerome Elderberry was the last person to leave the plane, since he was stuck in the back of the 747. He made a few steps into the airport, when he found himself surrounded by six security agents.
“Just what in the goddamn hell do you think you are doing?” he asked.
One of the men reached into Elderberry’s coat and pulled out a gun.
“What’s this?” asked the agent. He studied Gerome’s loaded .22 caliber Smith & Wesson.
“It’s a goddamn gun, you idiot - my gun.”
“Down on the floor,” he instructed.
“On that filthy floor? I don’t think so. Do you people even know who I am?”
“Sir, get down on that floor.” They pushed him on the floor, handcuffed him from behind, and read him his rights.
“I am Lieutenant Gerome Elderberry, head of New Lake City Homicide. I’m here on official business. I am authorized to carry that gun. It was cleared with the New Lake International authorities. You boys are making a grave mistake,” said a humiliated Elderberry, as his face was facing the floor.
“New Lake International called us. They said a man fitting your description was on this plane. They said you would be identifying yourself as Lieutenant Gerome Elderberry. They said you would be carrying a gun.” One guard kept a firm grip on Elderberry’s twisting shoulders while the other one tried to stop the kicking legs.
“Well bravo for all you rent-a-cops. You understood what they said. And this is a problem – why?”
“Sir, the real Gerome Elderberry called the airport after takeoff. He told New Lake officials that an imposter would be on this plane, carrying a gun. You were being observed by an armed federal sky marshal the entire flight. We were instructed to apprehend the suspect, which is you, immediately upon your arrival.”
“This is absurd. I am the real Gerome Elderberry.” He was fuming.
“Chicago PD is waiting for you outside. They’ll be taking you downtown. Let’s go, sir.” The two officers pick him up from the floor.
“Somebody will pay for this – dearly. There is a murder suspect loose in this city. I hope you realize that.”
“For what it’s worth, sir, this is Chicago. I’m sure there are lots of murder suspects running around in this city.”
“Pel-tire is behind this. I know it. I’ll get you, you greasy, shabby heathen.” The two guards escorting Elderberry looked at each other, shook their heads, and smiled.
Andie was feeling the effects of the alcohol. When they arrived at her apartment, Andie invited Harold in.
“It’s late and you shouldn’t be driving in your condition,” she said, with a smile. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right out.” She went to her bedroom to change.
Harold looked around her apartment. He noticed a couple of pictures of Nick and Andie together. All of the poses were affable and didn’t have a hint of showing more than a friendship.
Andie walked out of her bedroom, wearing a silk Victoria’s Secret robe, which did little to hide the sexy red bra and panties underneath.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” said Harold.
“You didn’t make yourself comfortable,” said the inebriated Andie.
“Sorry about that,” he said, as he took off his jacket and tie.
Andie started unbuttoning Harold’s shirt, while kissing his neck. “I love the feel of your neck on my lips.”
Harold was enjoying the moment. “It feels pretty good to me, too. You sure have a lot of pictures of you and Nick hanging around.”
She stopped kissing him. “Why did you bring up Nick?”
“I’m just curious. How long have you known him?”
“Just over a year. Why do you want to talk about him?”
“I, uh, just want to make sure there’s no competition.” One thing he learned in therapy was to never have sex with a woman who was involved with someone else.
“Maybe this will satisfy your curiosity,” she whispered as she parted his lips with her tongue and slid it around. She grabbed his hand and led him into the bedroom. She took off his shirt, revealing a washboard stomach. She started rubbing his chest, and kissing his nipples. Harold wanted to get some information about Jamie from her, but decided to give in to the moment. He pushed her onto the bed, slid her robe off and stared at her red-lace-covered breasts. He gently caressed them without taking off the bra. She let out a sexy moan. Andie slid her hand between his legs and found what she wanted. She started rubbing his erection outside his pants. While doing this, she felt a strange vibration. She reached around and felt his pager going off in his pocket.
“I was hoping it was me giving you the vibration,” she said, using her best seductive voice.
Harold struggled to reach for his pager, which was in an uncomfortable place. He pulled it out and looked at the number.
He gave Andie a kiss and said, “I know it’s rather rude of me to do this, but do you mind if I make a quick call?”
“Can’t it wait?” asked Andie, while trying to catch her breath.
“I’ll make it quick.” He limped out of bed and made the call from the front room.
“Is there a problem?” asked Harold.
“Did you find out about Jamie O’Malley yet?” asked Peter Grimes.
“No, I’m kind of working on it right now,” he said in a low voice.
“Why are you whispering?”
“I’m in her apartment right now, and things are going kind of…”
“You’re getting it?” Peter asked. “How is it?”
“I’m kind of in the starting phase of it, Peter. I’ll work on it.”
“Well, I just want to warn you, Jamie O’Malley has nothing to do with the buyout. I talked to you-know-who just now, and he never heard of her. He said it wasn’t supposed to start until next week.”
“That is interesting,” said Harold. “Keep me posted and I’ll do what I can.”
“Great, now get back in there and give me all the details.”
“Yes, sir. No problem,” whispered Harold. He went back into the bedroom and saw Andie fast asleep on the bed, clutching Atticus Finch. He started kissing her to wake her up, but it was no use. She was out. He put his shirt on, left a note, and grabbed his jacket. He never got an official invitation to spend the night. He didn’t want to ruin a good thing. He needed to find out who Jamie really was.
The Devil's in My Bathroom Page 23