Authors: JJ DeCeglie
Drawing Dead (16 page)
I made it back to the car and first things first I took a jolt of vodka. Seemed like the correct line of action. Going to the casino was gonna be a risk, but not getting to her was just a mistake. I sat awhile and tried willing myself some more good fucking luck. It was something akin to praying, all that refuge of the damned bullshit and the like. Wading in the mire and not getting any fucking place. I fumbled about the car awhile, looked about then picked a pair of ragged books that were sitting on the passenger seat floor. I did the old open at a random page and read the first line routine, trying to get a read on things to come. A literary tarot or something. Been doing this shit since before I can recall.
First book was poems by Raymond Carver, sombitch writes a fucking great short story, the poems are overlooked, it's a real damn shame but who gives a dick really, anyhow here's what old Ray had for me – Late at night my teeth hurt and the phone rings. I'm ill, unhappy and alone. Been there, done that Carver. I know I'll end up right the fuck back there again.
I flung the bastard to the backseat with contempt and tried on Graham Greene, the one about the Yank who kept his mouth shut, let that other guy die 'cause he was going about trying to steal his bitch, it all went down in Vietnam, great fucking book, great fucking writer; when Greene was a kid he used to get his kicks playing Russian Roulette. If he felt like shit he'd just load up the gun with a single and let the barrel whirl, slam that fucker straight up against his head and pull the goddamned trigger, risk getting skull and grey matter all over the dreary British wall, better than any anti-depressant ever prescribed in the world, then or since, click slam into instant boom...I bet he whipped his dick out and blissfully jerked it over Garbo straight after, blew like a fire hose then went skipping with glee down some fucking lane. I know that's what I woulda done, though replace Greta with a cheap Hispanic teen whore I once stayed a week with in LA; I flick random on Graham's work, he lays it on real thick – Aren't we all better dead?
Couldn't have said it better myself.
Enough of this horseshit.
I gunned the car over there. Parked it like a maniac. I grabbed a cap from my backseat like that was gonna stop everybody I knew from recognizing me. I kept my eyes to the floor and went in the back way which is somehow nearest the river front. The city floating there behind it like a piece of shit would in a pool. I decided to try it on at the lobby first. You never knew if you’d catch a break with some schmuck or not.
Hey guy. I was supposed to meet a girl in the lobby here and she hasn’t shown. I was wondering if you could give me her room number. I’d really like to see her.
Sorry sir, we can’t do that.
Really…come on.
Son of a whore!
Yeah sorry, for all I know you’re a serial killer right?
Ok, I understand. I’ll just keep waiting.
It was worth a shot. Always is. I wandered around the lobby a minute. Scanning about my scattered mind for an idea. At first the drunken badlands gave me good old zipp-a-fucking-roo, then it fell into place with a pleading look to the heavens. Like a key in a lock. I bet myself that she was predictable enough to be on the top floor. All that money, too dumb to slum it. She was there and I knew she was. I bet she even stashed her phone somewhere before we pulled our little stunt.
Well I was gonna find out.
I coming for you Evie, baby, you had better watch out.
I went to the bar and ordered a gin fizz. I wanted something I could condemn in a gulp and also somewhere with people. I knew her number by heart but I didn’t have a phone. So I was gonna steal one see. I sidled up next to a couple of queers and pretended to sip at my drink. He had his phone on top his wallet by his elbow, just sitting there on the bar. They were chatting up a storm these two. A regular tea-party in session. I expertly seized it when the chance came, I think he leant down to blow the other guy or something, I couldn’t be sure because I left so quickly. Drained the drink by the exit. I moved over to the elevators and when the bell dinged I entered and the hit the button for the sky. As it careered straight up I realised how much of a long shot I was playing. No one could be that stupid right. To fake their death and keep their phone. Well she’d been dense enough to fake her death and stay in town. So it was no dice to everything logical motherfucker.
I called the number the second I got out the elevator. Started walking along the plush corridor. I heard the ringing as I rounded the corner. Ended the call. Redialed. Boom bitches, there it goes again. I followed it like a hunting dog does a kill. In no time I had the door, and I started knocking and with as much restraint as I could muster calling out her name. I killed the phone and tried knocking again. Then I gave the door a big sonofabitching elbow. Nothing. I called again and it just kept ringing. The phone was there but she wasn’t. Fuck this! I walked. Deleted the number. Wiped the phone down. Stopped the elevator on a floor half way down and threw the thing in a bin. When it hit ground I pulled my hat down so as it covered face and made for the gaming floor. I was gonna scout about for her lovely little ass.
Took all of fifteen minutes to spot her. I’d dodged about twenty-five assholes I knew by then already. The place smelt like stale perfume and dread. It was where the loser came to die, and the dying took just about his entire fucking lifetime to happen. She’d done a rough cut on her hair, kinda punk rock homemade short, and she’d peroxided it blonde and was wearing a blood red beret. She had sunglasses on, which would have been strange had she not been at the poker tables.
Can you believe the balls on this bitch?
She was first-grade stupid. She still looked like dynamite and fresh cream. And I hadn’t even seen her smile yet. I watched her from a distant rail for about five more minutes. She was keeping a low profile. It looked like she’d been winning, either that or she’d started with the big stack of chips. I cruised on over with an ‘I’m here to fuck you’ grin on my face. I flanked her and then eased up from behind and leaned down over her shoulder.
Fancy seeing you here Sophia.
She turned round in shock, her eyes as wide as they could go.
Jack…
She looked as if she’d started to wet herself.
Looks like fun honey, you’re doing well huh, got the hang of it and everything…but it’s time to chip out.
I’m on a roll.
Motherless slut! I leant in, real close and with venom spat the words into her ear as quiet as I could.
Evie, get the fuck up. Now!
I pulled back and she gave me one of those looks she had practiced her whole life. I coulda smacked her right in the mouth. Made that smile look a little different. I grabbed her arm and lifted and it gave her some incentive. She stood and chipped out so there was less for her to carry. I kept a hold of her arm as we made our way, gripped it tight, watched her close at the cashier, she yanked it away somewhere near the roulette tables. I warned her so that if she didn’t get the picture she now would.
Don’t try to run Evie. You run and I’ll chase you down, and if I don’t get you now, I’ll get you later. And later I won’t be as nice as feel I might be right now…you with me baby.
She said nothing. I took it as a yes, then went on with it.
I figure we go up to your room. Have a few drinks, few laughs, maybe get naked, you give me the twenty-five large plus the expenses you owe me and I’ll try my very best not to knock your teeth out…sound cool, huh baby?
Nothing but silence. She sulked the whole way back to the room. Or acted that way whilst working on some method to bullshit me. And you shoulda seen the room. Five-star plus type deal. King-size bed, views over the river and city, spa you could swim laps in, TV big as a table. I picked up a bottle of wine she’d left half empty on the table.
Come on, like you didn’t already know I was a ‘Glass half empty’ type of chump by now.
It was worth about seventy dollars over the counter if you could find it at a liquor store, and you usually couldn’t, fuck could only know what she was paying for it here. There were two other empties on the sink. Well at least she knew her shit. I took to taking hits from that bottle in between my already prepared address, along with some retorts I'd also primed earlier.
You know if you were gonna stiff me Evie the least you coulda done is leave town. Now I’m short around thirty-five K and am probably gonna have to do three to five for fraud. I don’t think my ass can handle that kind of pounding Evie. I just ain’t a dick sucking kinda guy. What in hell about ‘Get the fuck outta Dodge’ didn’t you comprehend?
I got scared Jack.
Ahhhh…I’m through buying your bullshit so stop peddling it…oh and by the way, I met your boyfriend today, big hulking caveman motherfucker, swell guy Evie, you got excellent taste.
I like it here Jack. I wanna stay.
Head like a concrete block this bitch.
Oh you like it huh, well, enjoy the next couple of days before you’re made and then have a fucking ball doing three in a cell. Hope you dig eating dyke pussy...'cause it's gonna be on tap. If you don’t leave town we’re gonna get pinched. Now pay me my motherfucking money. Then we’ll go book you a plane ticket together. And give me that phone.
I picked it up and took it to the sink. Then drowned the whore in cold water.
You know that they can track you with the signal on these things right?
I’m sorry Jack, I am. I’ll pay you OK; I’ll pay you right now. And I’m sorry about Rob. He can be crazy sometimes. I should know…can I order up a drink?
No.
I took a big sniff of wine.
Well…yeah…
The wine convinced me otherwise.
Get me a Maker’s Mark. A double, ice.
She was standing there doing her thing and I was watching her intimately. She had on a nice little number, a dress in her usual fashion, burnt pink, designer and short in every direction. She had sheer stockings on. And the way she’d shuffled around on those heels delivering her rebuttal I could see the suspenders holding’em up. Goddamn, it was a sight.
She ordered herself another bottle of the stuff I’d just finished off. As soon as she was done on the phone she rambled on over to me. Hips slinging, waist trimmed, breasts unfastened and asking to be handled. One paw on my shoulder. The other on my side. Eyes burning into mine and that cataclysmic smile.
The money Evie…
She rolled her eyes and removed the hands. Went off toward the bedroom and looked back at me and shook her head. I got the notion that she was kinda impressed by the way I’d batted her off. And she should have been, 'cause as always it took most of what I had left to do it. I followed her into the bedroom. She was on her knees looking inside a new handbag, fumbling about with the contents within. She looked up at me with her right hand still in the bag. I smiled at her and she gave me nothing this time, just the blank look of a nihilist and a severe gritting of her teeth. Her eyes tunneling into me with some hot quizzing obviously going round and round fast and loose in her mind. She never took her eyes off mine, not for a moment. Eventually dragged the key out from her bag. She upped and went over to the case. I came over when she about to open the bastard and she snap froze and wouldn’t budge.
Open it.
Fuck you Jack.
The way she said it scored me to the bone.
Evie open the goddamned son of a bitch case.
Fuck you.
I was just about ready to oblige. She’d pushed me to very edge, if it wasn’t for that fucking money, I swear now, I would’ve done to her like she needed doing to. Instead I pushed her aside and to the floor with a solid loving shove. Then saw what all the fucking fuss was about.
Sweet mother of fuck!
She tried to shut the case in frenzy but I just pushed her over again.
Where’d you get this? There must close to a million dollars in here.
Girl didn’t flinch.
It’s more like nine hundred.
Someone smashed on the door.
Just ignore it Jack.
I ignored her.
I think I could use that drink honey.
Evie picked herself up and straightened her dress some then went and answered the door. It was a shame because I liked how she looked all crumpled in a heap with her dress up over her stockings and suspenders. She locked the case and put the key back in the handbag prior to. I trailed behind her looking directly at her legs and ass and wondering when this mother of all jackpots would finally end so as I could knock her all wild over the bedroom. I got an answer almost immediately.
It was two wise-guys. One older and fatter, and the other about my age and thinner. Serious looking assholes with expensive suits and silenced guns and our drinks in their gold-ring covered hands.
We told the girl at the door that we was old friends of yours, silly bitch bought it straight up and didn’t ask another question.
It was a good play, there was always a putz somewhere along the line, and like I said you had to try it on and see if it was possibly the person you were talking to.
This them?
He was talking to his partner. This guy, the older, fatter one, was asking the younger, who had his arm in a sling and a banged up face.
Yeah. Well. That’s her. She’s cut her hair, but it’s definitely her.
And who’s this asshole?
He was referring, as many men had in that way, to me.
Can I have my drink?
I really did feel like I needed it.
The older goombah motioned us backward into the room with his gun and then shut the door behind himself.
You want your drink? Huh asshole?
If isn’t a problem, sure I’ll take it.
He grinned, then the motherfucker threw the contents of the glass all over me. I licked what I could off my hand, and some from my lips. Then laughed a little to myself.
Thanks. You’re a prince sir, a prince.
I was already getting on his nerves.
He ignored me and went at Evie.
Whatta ya say baby, where’s the money?
She did like she always did and played it dumb as a fence post.
What money?
