Time and Chance (32 page)
Authors: G L Rockey
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.”
“Gillian, 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.”
