BLACK Is Back (24 page)

“…teen or five-teen…?”

“But enough about me. How’s your research on Moet going?”

“Slow. There’s a mountain to go through, but most of it’s just rehashes of the same stories. The rise of his label. His acts. You know the kind of thing.”

“What about his gang affiliation?”

“Rumor and innuendo. No arrests. So it could be all BS, or he could be gang-related, but keeps away from actual crimes.”

“Is there anything more on Mugsy?”

“I’m waiting to get something back.”

“I hope you find him, Roxie.”

“Sure you do.”

Black burped softly again. “Is there any reason to come in, then?”

“Not on my account.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Uh huh.”

Chapter 32

The bloody penises hadn’t improved over the past week, and Black wondered whether he was the only one of Dr. Kelso’s patients that interpreted the painting the way he did. Not that there was anything wrong, per se, with penises. He just wondered why a therapist would put art with a bunch of bloody ones on the wall for patients to contend with while working through their issues.

“Did I lose you?” Kelso asked, trying hard not to sound annoyed that Black had spaced out during their session.

“Oh, sorry. My mind just wandered.”

“Sometimes that can be indicative of something important.”

“Not always. Trust me on that.”

“What took you away?”

“I was just admiring your painting.”

“Ah, yes, it’s a favorite of mine. Abstract, but with a lot of color. Do you like it?”

“I guess. I don’t know much about art.”

“Anyway, back to my question. You say you feel guilt because of an incident with a woman?”

“Right. She came on to me, and then practically jumped me the first chance she got.”

Kelso nodded. “I see. Were you both drinking?”

“No. Okay, maybe. I had a beer. I think she did, too. But nothing heavy.”

“Describe what happened.”

“We were at a rap concert…”

“You and the woman? Together?”

“No. I was there with my assistant. Roxie.”

“Not your girlfriend?”

“No, this was work.”

“A rap concert with your assistant was work?”

“It’s a long story. A case.”

“Do you often take your assistant into the field on cases?”

“No, but that’s not important. Forget about Roxie. The woman in question works with the rapper.”

“In what capacity?”

“PR. And she gets him whatever he wants. Sort of a jack of all trades.”

“I see,” Kelso said.

“Anyway, I was backstage, and she told me she needed to talk to me, and then she pulled me into a corner and began kissing me.”

“She did?”

“Yes.”

“How old is she?”

“I don’t know. Maybe twenty-eight?”

“Is she attractive?”

“Gorgeous. I mean serious, movie-star hot. But that’s not the point.”

Kelso made a notation on his notepad, which was probably a reminder to get his shirts at the dry cleaner. “And how old is your…assistant?”

“Haven’t we covered this? Twenty-five.”

“This is the one for whom you have the sexual feelings?”

“No. I mean, yes, but I don’t act on them.”

“I see.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Go on.”

“Anyway, we were kissing, and for whatever reason I began to respond. Probably when she grabbed my ass. I was ready to push her away, but then she did that, and I, well, didn’t exhibit the best judgment.”

“She grabbed your ass?”

“Yes.”

“And you liked it, obviously.”

Black sneaked another look at the penises and shuddered. “You had to be there.”

“Yes.”

“And now I feel terrible, because I have a great girlfriend, and I’m clearly the kind of man who can’t be trusted to do the right thing.”

“Your girlfriend has no problem with you taking your young assistant, for whom you have sexual impulses, to concerts?”

“I guess not. But she doesn’t have all the information you do about my thoughts on Roxie.”

“Hmm.” Kelso paused. “Is that a new watch?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s another thing that drove me nuts this week, besides the kissing and the drive-by shooting. My ex-wife came to my birthday party and embarrassed me by giving me an expensive watch.”

Kelso did a double-take. “Can we go back to the drive-by part?”

“What? Oh, that. Um, after my birthday dinner, my parents, ex, and my assistant had all left, and on the way out of the restaurant some punks took a few shots at Sylvia and me.”

Kelso came awake. “How does that make you feel? Are you okay?”

“Truthfully, it all happened so fast, and so much has happened since then, I’ve hardly had time to think about it.”

Kelso’s eyes narrowed. “You mentioned that your assistant went to your birthday dinner as well?”

“Yes, but that’s not what you think. She helped organize it. It was a surprise party.”

“Ah.”

“And believe me, I was surprised.”

“How did it feel to see your ex-wife at the party?”

“More of a dinner, not a party. Never mind. It was…uncomfortable. I mean, she’s there, my mom and dad are staring at us like they expect us to get back together, Roxie, my assistant, is enjoying my squirming, and my girlfriend is ready to bolt out of the place.”

“Wait. So it was you, four women, including your mom, and your father?”

“Correct.”

“And would it be fair to say you’d slept with, or had sexual fantasies about sleeping with, three of the four? Or perhaps all of them?”

Black saw where this was going. “It’s not like that. Believe me, I wouldn’t have picked that guest list.”

The chime sounded, announcing the end of the session. Kelso made another note and flipped the cover over on the notepad. “You know what that means.”

“I don’t have to talk about the worst night of my life?”

“Not unless you want to talk about it next week.”

Black shook his head. “No. I think once is enough.”

“Very well, then. Same time?”

“Sure. Given all the progress I’m making since I started coming every week instead of every two.”

“Are you as angry as you were?”

“No, just poorer.”

“Then I’ll see you next week. We’re making progress.”

Black gave him a neutral stare. “Sure we are.”

The trip to his office took fifteen minutes, and when he pushed open the door he was shocked to see that Roxie was already there – an unheard-of occurrence, her being on time.

“What happened? Did you lock yourself out of your apartment and sleep here?” he asked.

“I found Mugsy!”

“Really? Where is he?”

“Eight blocks away. The guy who has him agreed to come home on his lunch break and meet us so we can get him.”

“Oh…good.”

“Try to contain your enthusiasm. You could have a heart attack or something.”

“Always thinking about me first. I like that.”

“We have to be there at five after twelve. I can’t wait! Poor Mugsy has probably been so lonely and scared.”

“He didn’t really seem that way on the video.”

“I know him. That’s how he gets when he’s scared.”

“I’ve never actually seen him do anything but eat and sleep, so I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’m excited.”

“So am I. I’m wondering how to keep him away from my new chair.”

“And a handsome one it is.”

“Thanks,” Black replied glumly. “Seriously, that’s great news about Mugsy.”

“It’s like something was missing all week.”

“I noticed that, too. Amazing how used to cat box odor you get, isn’t it?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Of course. Anything more on Moet?”

“Yeah, I sent it to you. A lot of material.”

“Sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me, then.”

Black opened his office door, hung his jacket on the hook he’d installed earlier in the week, and took his new seat, the fabric fresh and supple, the cushion cradling him like a loving mother’s arms. All soon to go to hell, courtesy of Mugsy, he thought wistfully, and then pushed the thought aside. Roxie was happy, and a happy Roxie was a more cooperative one. If he had to pretend delight over Mugsy to keep her that way, it was a small enough sacrifice – and after a week of two-thousand-dollar days working on B-Side’s case, not nearly as troubling as it had been when he’d been scrambling to come up with rent and Roxie’s salary.

Roxie wasn’t kidding about the material on Moet being dense and plentiful. It seemed like he’d barely got started when Roxie was standing at his door expectantly.

“Is it really noon already?”

“No, I just like standing here. In case there’s an earthquake.”

“Never lose that childlike sense of wonder, Roxie. I never asked. What wizardry did you have to use to find out who posted the video?”

“It cost us two thousand dollars for a hacker named Neo to get into the YouTube servers.”

“Two grand? Are you insane?”

“I guess that answers my question about whether you’ve ever seen
The Matrix
.”

“The what?”

Roxie shook her head. “I posted a comment on the video saying that I lost my cat and the one in the video was him.”

“Oh.”

“Can we go?”

“Wild horses couldn’t stop me.”

The ride to the apartment didn’t take long, and they were standing in front of the building when a slight man wearing flowing linen pants and a yellow polo jersey came rushing up, his clogs clacking against the uneven cement sidewalk.

“Roxie?” he asked, out of breath, his voice high pitched and lilting.

“That would be me,” she said.

“Oh, fabulous. I’m Terry. I’m so happy you got in touch.” He gave Black a shy look. “Who’s your friend?”

“Black. I’m the other half of Mugsy’s family,” Black said, his voice flat.

“Charmed,” Terry said, and then led them to his ground-floor digs. He swung the door open and stepped cautiously inside, and then froze. Black and Roxie peered over his shoulder at Mugsy, who had one of the stereo wires in his mouth, happily chewing it to pieces. The sofa was a wreck, the carpets scratched to pieces, and everything of any value had been placed behind the glass doors of a tall cabinet, presumably to keep Mugsy away.

“Oh. My. God. Mugsy!” Roxie exclaimed, holding her arms out, and Mugsy spat the wire out disdainfully and scampered into her embrace.

“Look at him. He’s so happy to see me!”

Terry and Black exchanged a look normally reserved for battle-weary soldiers on some forgotten front before their final charge out of the trenches into enemy fire. Roxie turned to Terry, Mugsy purring in her arms, and beamed.

“Thank you so much for rescuing him. Where did you find him?”

“My partner and I were parked on Pico. He has a little red beemer convertible. Anyhow, we came out of the shop we were in, and there was…Mugsy…in our car.”

“He’s got a taste for fine coachwork. You’re lucky anything was left of it,” Black said.

“It was like he’d chosen us. With no collar on, we had no way of contacting anyone, so we decided to bring him home. At first it was fun watching him go nuts, but that became…well, it got tiring after a while. I think we’ve decided we aren’t cat people.”

“After the first couple of grand of destruction, most do.”

Terry looked away and cleared his throat. “Speaking of which, he’s done a lot of damage. I was hoping you could help offset some of it...”

“Offset it?” Black asked, playing dumb.

Terry shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “You know. Maybe put some cash toward helping replace at least a few of the most ruined items.”

“What were you thinking? I frankly wasn’t prepared for this...”

Roxie glared black daggers through his heart. Black ignored her. She looked about to say something, but caught the almost imperceptible shake of his head and bit her tongue.

“Well, just that chair cost five hundred dollars,” Terry said, pointing at a ruined lounger that looked like a grenade had detonated in the seat cushion.

As if sensing Black’s reluctance, Mugsy sprang from Roxie’s soft embrace and darted behind the sofa. An audible scratching sound emanated from it, and Black winced, as did Terry.

“You know, if it’s a matter of money...” Black began.

“I was thinking almost a reward. That’s customary when one’s reunited with a loved one, right?” Terry suggested.

Black decided to deliver the first body blow. “The problem is I’m broke. I mean, Roxie here adores the fat destructive bastard, but the truth is that it costs me an arm and a leg just to feed him. Look at him. He’s the size of a small cow. Never mind what he’s done to my office furniture and my car. Unfortunately, she’s not the practical one in our relationship, so while we’d both love to give you some money, there’s none to give.” He paused, listening as Mugsy tunneled to China behind the sofa, and then went in for the three-fingered death punch. “What I was going to say is that you’ve got such a nice home, it would be a shame to take him away. Much as Roxie adores him, we have Mugsy’s well-being to consider. What kind of life is it living in a cold, empty office most of the time? I was thinking it would be better for everyone if he stayed here, with you, where he could stretch his legs, so to speak.”

Terry couldn’t have looked any more shocked if Black had dropped trou and urinated on the couch.

“No. I mean absolutely not. He’s your cat. You need to take him,” Terry sputtered. “He can’t stay here.”

“See, that’s the problem. Roxie wanted to make sure he was someplace safe. We didn’t come over to claim him...more to reassure ourselves he would be well looked after. I meant it when I thanked you for rescuing him. You took him from a marginal life into your home, where I’m sure he’ll flourish. God bless you, Terry. I mean it. You’re a saint.”

Roxie’s face could have been crafted out of marble. Getting into the spirit, she nodded and echoed Black. “A saint. It’s obvious he’s happy here. Bless you.”

Terry’s eyes bugged out of his head and his face flushed. He obviously wasn’t sure when or how the discussion had gone wrong, but he was now positive that he’d badly misjudged the situation, and began backpedaling.