The Life of Lol (14 page)

Fucking bitches.  He’d said for them to ring him when they wanted picking up, but their cells were dead.  Wanting their night out to be over so he could return to bed, he’d got in the car and gone to find the club, to see if he could spot them stumbling along.  He hadn’t gone too fat into town when he saw a passed out figure in the torn remnants of a black dress collapsed at the side of the street.  Blonde hair.  He got out of he car in a hurry.  It was Taylor.  Jesus, she was a mess, and covered in her own shit and puke.  He realised straight away this wasn’t alcohol .  The girl had overdosed.

Eyes open

Shut them shut them shut them shut them her brain screamed.  Obediently, she closed them again against the pain of the headache and the general aching in her whole body.  It might have been a hospital, it certainly wasn’t dinghy enough to be her own apartment.  The sheets had seemed white, and comfortable. She opened her eyes again hesitantly.  A man’s expensive Rolex watch was on a little side table at the edge of the bed.  Not hospital then. 

At that moment, Jack came in,

“You’re awake”, he said with some concern in his voice, “I was getting worried there, you’ve been pretty sick.”

She nodded weakly.

“Found you in the street close to her”, he confirmed, “you were ODing.  Good job I got to you when I did.”

She rubbed her body and gingerly sat up in her bed,

“you’ll ache for a while”, he said, sitting down on the bed, “gave you an adrenalin shot.  Cleaned you all off in the shower.  How d’ya feel”

She thought for a moment,

“Like I was run over by the line 40 bus” she said hoarsely.

He sat down on the bed, something troubling him,

“Something I gotta ask you”, he said with a furrow appearing on his forehead, “I was gonna wait, but…it seems like the time.”

“What”, she asked.

“The stuff you took”, he confirmed, “that was pretty fucked up stuff.  Real rough.  Where’d you get it?”

“I dunno”, she lied.

“It’s just cos…Justine nearly died last night.  She’s in the hospital.”

Taylor panicked.  Justine.  In the middle of her OD she’d forgotten all about Justine.

“The hospital found traces of Tetramisole and Cyanide in the blow.  I need to know where you’re getting that shit from.”

“Why”, she asked coldly, “you turned into a cop?”

His face was hard now,

“My buddies interests depend on knowing where that shit is.  I tried to get it off the streets, but there was a complication.  If the stuff ended up for sale, then I’m pretty much fucked.”

Taylor shook her head, thinking hard,

“I dunno”, she lied again, “how is Justine?”

“She’ll live”, confirmed Jack, “so you go to a club with a giant bag of blow, OD on it and yet you’ve no idea where you got it?”

“I don’t remember”, she said, “look.  I don’t have to fucking account for every inch of my life”

“How about if I told your parole officer you’d been doing coke in a club?” he suggested.

“Then I guess I go back to jail”, she said resignedly, “but I still wouldn’t remember where I got the blow.”

Jack gave it up.  She was lying about the blow, he knew that.  But she wasn’t saying, for some reason.  For the first time, he began to see Taylors other side, the hard ass, the criminal mind, the trouble maker.  He liked the sweet girl who talked about her past and played drinking games with him, he didn’t like her lying cheating side.  No matter, he thought, he would find out who was selling the blow sooner or later.

She laid listening in Jack’s bed.  He’d gone out.  She’d thought he was cross with her, but he couldn’t prove a fucking thing.  Fuck him.  Taylor didn’t answer to anyone.  The blow had been poison, that was sure, next time she’d fucking sample it before selling it.  That was a valuable lesson, make sure you know what the fuck you’re dealing with before you sell it.  She got out of bed and tried to find some clothes.

Elsewhere, jack was trying to find answers.  At this moment, Jack and two of his employees were in a disused fish warehouse off the east side of the city.  Jack was stood with a baseball bat, one of his workers had a knuckle duster.  Tied to a supporting beam of the warehouse was a badly beaten black man.  At one time, his t-shirt had been purple, but now in hung in bloodied rags about his face.

Jack stood in front of the man,

“So”, he began, “I’ve been hearing about how two people died of an OD on your patch two nights ago.”

“What of it man” spluttered the man, “you the quality drug police”?

Jack hit him, and the man coughed in pain,

“Quiet”, he ordered, “now.  All I need to know is where you got the stuff from”

“I don’t know man.  Fuck you.”

Jack sighed.  That was the second time he’d heard that phrase today.  ‘I don’t know’.  Well somebody fucking knew.  At that moment, Carl came in, his black framed glasses making his face sweat in the morning sun.

“Any luck”, he asked in a matter of fact tone.

“Creep says he doesn’t know” replied Jack.

“Hmm” said Carl thinking, “I’m guessing he’s lying.  Pull one of his teeth, see if that jogs his memory”

Jack nodded to his aide a the side of him.  Jack shut his ears to the screaming as the makeshift dentistry began.

“That should do it”, said Carl, “course it would be easier if we could do this to the girl.”

“Touch her and you know what’ll happen” warned Jack.

“I know I know”, replied Carl, “You’re sweet on her.  God only knows why.  She’s ruin you, you realise that.  I’ve seen her type before.  Either way, your funeral.  We get nothing out of this black, then Maranzano is gonna put your little sweetheart in the dentist chair himself.”

In the dentist chair, the dealer’s face was full of blood.  He’d had enough.

“Zimo’s girl, man”, he said through broken teeth, the blonde”

“Carry on taking the teeth” ordered jack, Zimo doesn’t have a blonde.  Besides, Zimo is dead.”

The dealer shook his head, and then said a phrase that sent jack’s blood cold,

“She had a beige jeep”, he said spitting blood, “blonde, Dixie accent, mean as a junkyard cat.  Sold us a whole bag full of the shit.”

Carl looked at jack, and the man with the glasses shook his head.

“Like I told you”, Carl said quietly, “She’s fucking with you.  First you find this LA TV producers card in her jacket pocket.  Then, she shoots two of your guys, steals our stuff and goes and sell sit to the competition.”

“She doesn’t know she’s doing it”

“What?” Carl replied, “Are you going soft in the fucking head?  This woman shot two of your guys in cold blood, stole a case full of blow and then lied to your face about it, not to mention planning her escape route to LA.  Normally, you’d fuck someone over for doing that to you.”

Chapter 18.  Bang bang I shot you down

Jack thought long and hard about what Carl had said.  First of all there was Maranzano.  If any of the Maranzano family knew Jack had allowed the tainted blow to hit the streets and risk some fallout coming back to them, then Jack was in deep shit.  Second of all, Taylor had indeed lied to him.  Of course, the extent of her treachery was still to be determined.  He knew she’d obtained the blow, probably by force.  But that could still be a kind of accident, though Jack couldn’t see how.  The LA guys business card could also be explained.  Maybe Taylor lying to him in bed that morning, lying to his face, had been nothing but her fear.  But Jack put that out of his mind as idiocy on his part, that woman had never felt fear in her life, of that he was certain.

He called her.

She sounded busy when she answered,

“Where are you?” he said curtly,

“Buying a bouquet for Justine”, she said, “why, what’s happened?”

“You remember where you bought the bag of blow yet?” he asked again.

“What the fuck is this? She asked exasperated, “the cop routine again?”

“Just fucking tell me” he said, exasperated.

“I dunno”, she said, “I was out of town somewhere, one of the gas stations along the freeway.  I’d had a drive one night”

“Huh”, he said unconvinced, “I guess that explains it.  Oh, by the way, a guy phoned the bar asking for ya.  Name of Larry Burke.  From LA, he said.  Mean anything to you?”

“He was just a friend who came in the bar, sweet heart, that’s all.  Dunno what he could want though”.

Jack was still unconvinced.  He felt sure she was lying now.  He called another number, a female friend of his brothers.  Gave her specific instructions.

Larry Burke was buying a newspaper in the hotel lobby when the phone rang.  A young girl’s voice came through on the other end.  Said her name was Taylor.

“Is the offer still open”, said the voice.

“Sure honey”, said Larry, a little distracted.  The seller had given him a dollar short in his change.

“That’s a dollar short”, he said holding out his hand,

“What”, said the girl on the phone, “what’s a dollar short?”

“Oh”, replied Larry nodding to the paper seller, “not you, the paper seller.”

“Oh”, said the girl, “I don’t know any paper seller.  But just tell me again what you said to me the other night, so I know I’ve made the right decision.”

Larry did so.  Taylor seemed really pleased, at least that was how she sounded on the phone.  He was going to put her up in his apartment, and try to get her TV work.  Leave Jack Mason high and dry. It was all signed and sealed.  Pleased at the thought of finally finding a pretty girl full of sass to work on the Lepowitz show and show his ex-wife that he wasn’t a failure, he forgot to tell her the day she was leaving.  Unable to find her number, he cursed his luck until he decided to try the bar.  As fortune would have it, as his car pulled up on the kerb, there she was, just unlocking the bar.

“Hey babe”, he shouted, “forgot to tell ya.  Friday at three, JFK.  I’ll meet you at the main entrance.”

“What you talkin bout, baby”, said Taylor with an amused look on her face, “I told ya the other day, I’m not goin nowhere.  I have this town right where I want it.”

“You just called me…” he tailed off, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Tay was smart.  She knew what had happened.  Jack had happened.  He was onto her over the drug deal, and now he knew about this shmuck offering her a way out.  Damn damn damn.  This guy didn’t really matter, but she knew Jack was royally pissed about the drugs.

Larry told her what he’d said, and she put the rest of it together.  Tay now realised that Larry Burke’s business card hadn’t fell out of her pocket, Jack had seen her take it and got it from her.  Protective.  No, more than protective, he was smothering her.  Trying to own her.  Fuck trying to protect me, she thought, I don’t need protecting.  So Jack knew about the drug scam.  And he knew about Larry.  How long before he found out about the credit card scam she was running through the bar.  Things had been going ok, but Tay realised that this was what she did.  Built a life, and then tore it down. 

She thought what to do.  The Maranzano family hated her already for her antics with that car eight years ago.  And now she’d ripped off a drug shipment that had been tainted and was causing shit for their family.  Carl with the glasses would put pressure on Jack to have her killed or hurt.  Normally, she knew jack would have refused, but she had lied to his face.  She couldn’t predict what he would do.  She didn’t, in all honesty, care for him enough to risk her life finding out, and so she made an arrangement to meet Larry the following morning.  Then she worked fast.  She got back in the jeep and went to an internet café.  Public place.  No trouble here.  Then , logging into jacks online banking, she transferred five hundred thousand of his money in to her own bank account.  This took her a while, as she had to move it in separate amounts, to dozens of dummy accounts she’d set up years ago for the credit card fraud business.  Then she went to her apartment and packed her one or two remaining things.  She sat back and sighed.  This was fucked up. 
Tay slept in the jeep, behind an alley on 14
th
street.  She’d dumped her phone in a trash can a mile away, so there would be no GPS  to track her.  Larry had bought the plane ticket for her, that had been her final phone call before trashing the phone.  And now, here she was, with five hundred thousand of Jack Mason’s money, running to the airport to escape her gilded cage.  She didn’t want to be some gangsters bitch.  Groucho had once told her that rich people collect people like they do possessions, but they always remain merely possessions, as the only thing the rich worshipped was being rich, and the fear of one day becoming poor.  The very same reason that the prison guards had not been trusted with any of Tay’s business affairs.

The airport seemed quiet.  She hung out at the front, trying to look cool and smoke a cigarette.  Where the fuck was Larry.  Then she saw a guy approach.  Tay panicked.  She’d left the gun in the jeep, unable of course, to smuggle it onto the plane, and she missed its comforting presence.  The guy came towards her, and she panicked.

“Got a light, miss?” he asked.

She breathed a sigh of relief and she flicked him her Ronson.  He took his time lighting the cigarette,

“Nice morning for travelling”, he said amiably.

Normally, she would have shot the shmuck straight down for hitting on her, but he was useful cover, in case Jack’s goons came looking for her.

“Yeah”, she said, its…”

But the man broke in to her sentence,

“Larry isn’t coming”, he said just as amiably, “he was…tied up.  We can give you a lift in the van, if you like?”

He moved his jacket back to show his silenced pistol.  Her heart pounded.  Caught.  Nowhere to run.  Maybe there would be a chance later.  She nodded,

“No need to get your panties in a bunch, baby”, she said smiling, “I’ll come nice and easy”

“Thought you might”, he smiled, “here”

He pulled out a shiny pair of police handcuffs from his belt,

“here…baby”, he said smiling, “why don’t you put these on for me.”

“I’m not really a jewellery person, sugar”, she drawled, but as he stepped nearer to her, she snapped the handcuffs closed around her wrists, securing her arms behind her back.

He led her quietly to a waiting van.  They hopped inside and drove.

“Where we goin, baby?” she said.

“Pick up a friend”, eh said curtly.

They did pick up another guy along the way.  Taylo9r sat in the van, expecting to be driven to a warehouse for questioning, but instead they turned and headed out  of town, towards the quiet desert scrubland that lay outside the suburbs of the city.  After an hour of try9ing to think of an escape plan and failing to think of anything plausible, Tay spoke up,

“I need to stop, boys”, she said in her  best wheedling tone.

“We’ll be making our final stop; real soon”, said one of the men.

Tay didn’t like the sound of that.  That word…’final’.  A plan would have to be forthcoming and soon.  Despite what she’d seen in movies and books, handcuffs were impossible to get out of, and they remained as firmly locked as before.

“I kinda need to stop now, boys?” said Tay again in her best and sultriest Southern drawl, “I gotta go to the little girls room”

“We ain’t stopping.  Pee in your pants”

“ew” shuddered Tay, “that’s gross, you guys have a fetish for that sort of thing or what?  Cos I’ll do just about anything”

That shut them up.  Taylors eyes suddenly sparkled.  Got em. 

“Ain’t time for that now”, said the other man, almost there. 

They pulled off the main freeway that had led them out of the city and into the desert scrubland.  The side road continued for a mile or so, after a while the farms and the occasional gas station petered out until there were only iguanas and lonesome dogs for company.  They turned again, and Tay began to panic.  This was a mighty lonesome spot for two guys to be questioning a girl on her own.  Finally, and literally in the middle of nowhere, the van pulled up.  After leaving the van, the two men helped Tay, still handcuffed, out into the desert dust.  With one man holding a gun to her head, the second guy undid her handcuffs, and handed her a small shovel,

“Dig”, he said simply.

“C’mon boys”, she said smiling, “there already is a grand canyon in Arizona.  Besides, I never was any good at manual labour.”

“Just fucking dig, or I’ll shoot you” he said, his face a mask of serious.

“Hmm”, Tay thought, leaning on the shovel, “but then, if I’m dead, who’s gonna dig the fucking hole?  You’re the one on the phone all the time while your buddy drives, so I’m guessing you’re the senior goon here”

“The two men looked at one another,

“So”, Taylor considered, “That makes you ‘it”, she pointed to the younger man in the nice dark suit.

“Nice suit”, she said running her fingers down his lapels, “hope the dirt and blood comes off.  And sweat.  Not that I don’t think you can do it, big guy, but digging a grave is a mighty hard job.”

“What the fuck man”, said the younger guy to the old guy, “I ain’t digging no fucking hole in this suit.  I got to wear this to Marianne’s wedding next week”

“How weird”, broke in Tay, “I used to know somebody called Marianne years ago, children’s home volunteer”

“This is my niece”, he said, before catching sight of the older man, and then he was quiet.

“Listen bitch”, the older man snarled, “I said I was gonna shoot you, not kill you.  It’ll be hard to dig a fucking hole with your ankles shot out.”

“Probably impossible”, Tay said, “either way boys, you’re digging my grave.  Course, y’all could just let me go?

“Yeah, course we can”, said the younger man, “Carl would have us out here in the fucking desert.”

The big man shot him an evil look. 

Tay thought hard.  So0 Carl was the motherfucker who had decided to have her got rid of.  Jack, being pissed at her, had obviously been unwilling to step in and piss off his high powered friends and save her life.  Just like Allen.  When the chips were down, they just didn’t give a fuck.  Never side with her for fear of facing her fate right alongside her.  It was the story of the guards all over again.  Fuck them.  Fuck all of them. 

“I got a better idea, boys”, Tay said sweetly, “Y’all don’t kill me.  And in return, I wire you fifty kay each, for your gas money.  And I suck both of y’all off, right here.  And I’m good, baby, real good.  You’ll never have anyone so good on your dick ever again.

They were actually thinking about it.  Dumb shmucks.  Like she said before, men thought with their dicks.

“I mean”, she continued, “did either of you sign on to have pretty blonde girls killed in the desert.  I’m guessing y’all didn’t think you’d be doing that when you were kids, did ya?

The men thought some more,

“Who gives a fuck man, said the younger guy, “we’ll tell Carl we killed her, Vincent is probably gonna get rid of Carl anyway, so it won’t matter.

“Suck us both off”, the older guy said, “and if you hurt us, I’ll smash each one of your pretty teeth one by one”  

But Tay had no intention of even touching either man’s dick with her mouth.  Kneeling, she unzipped his pants, and stroked his already erect member.  Normal man, she thought ruefully.  As she stroked it with her fingers, and grasped the head, she eased his hand that was holding the gun away from her head,

“Don’t need that, baby”, she cooed

She maneuverered the gun to what she thought was the right position, and she bent further to almost touch the tip of his erect member with her lips,

“Man”, moaned the guy, “You are good”

“It’s about to get better, baby”, she purred, then moved her right hand to the hand on his trigger finger.  He didn’t notice, such was his anticipation of what was to happen.  In fact, he was so excited she thought he was going to end up with a face full of it right there.