Crushed Ice (18 page)

Read Crushed Ice Online

Authors: Eric Pete

Penny Antnee.
I was awake.
Chapter 37
“And as we promised, here is our exclusive one-on-one interview with Penny Antnee, where he talks about his mega successful music career, his new multi-million dollar endorsement deal, as well as the rumors swirling around about him! We caught up with the rap superstar at the exclusive Sanctuary Camelback Mountain Resort in Scottsdale, where he was enjoying some downtime alongside his upcoming film co-star and newest rumored romance, Ana Andrews.”
Here I was holed up like a fucking fugitive, being stalked like some dog, while he was chilling poolside in Arizona with a hot Hollywood starlet. A short flight and I could be there, putting a bullet in his head, straight-up New Orleans style, or having someone else to do it with a call or two. But I wasn't a killer. Killer of souls and destroyer of spirits, maybe, but not a genuine cold-blooded, straight to the grave killer. Perhaps I was more vicious in my methods, but that was neither here nor there. They threatened Collette, making me contemplate something outside my usual boundaries. But I didn't know if this would end with Penny. I needed certainty when it came to Collette before committing down that path.
Collette moved, stirred from her exhausted slumber, cuddling tighter before drifting away again. I went back to observing Penny, admiring the profound strides this simple gangster with simple rhymes had made in what was a finger snap in the life of an artist. I watched Ana Andrews, the allegedly insatiable yet brilliant actress who never quite broke through to critical acclaim, but who saw opportunity in the young buck seated beside her, and probably hoped it would reignite her career. Penny was no better, having ditched his “beard” Natalia for a full- length genuine cougar fur in Ana. With Ana Andrews, no one would dare to question his sexuality card. Maybe Penny was one of those in-the-closet homophobic brothers, deluding himself into thinking that what I caught him doing on video was an aberration, brought on by too much drugs or booze or both. Or maybe, since he was the giver rather than receiver, that he wasn't gay.
He was finally being asked about the Internet rumors surrounding him and the recently deceased Andre Martin. I used the remote, turning up the volume.
“Think I may have met Andre Martin once,” he answered Maria Menounos in as angelic a manner as he could muster. Ana stayed there at his side, her arm foolishly wrapped in his, oblivious to the depths he'd go to protect his true face from the public. “Don't know where all these crazy rumors get started, but I hope they didn't contribute to the man's accident. It's sad. Some out there get joy in tearing people apart for no reason. It's like they're monsters. I mean, how'd they like it if the shoe was on the other foot? If someone was out there prying into their lives and making stuff up on them, bet they wouldn't like that at all.”
“I'm not gay, but I'm not gonna even dwell on negativity. I gots no problems with the gay community. I'm just trying to move forward and put the haters behind me. Trying to get some of this paper, y'know? I got mouths to feed, and people really hungry. And I feel sorry for you if you tryin' to stop me.”
He'd convinced me. Not by his wasted false words for the masses, but by the glimmer in his eye at the end. The way he looked into the camera. He was talking to me. Calling me out. The business with Andre Martin could sidetrack not only his short term hip-hop cred, but derail his long term goals in Hollywood and beyond if he lost believability. In spite of this deeper level of sophistication I hadn't credited him with, there was more. Beyond crazed, sycophantic headbusters like Loup Garou the Haitian Werewolf and the rest of his posse, there was something eerily familiar with the tactics being used in pursuit of me.
After the commercial break,
Access Hollywood
continued their special coverage dedicated to Penny Antnee. “We all know Penny Antnee is known for his famously chiseled arms, but what you might be surprised to know is that he now has legs to match,” Shaun Robinson teased. “Or should I say
LEG
as in the Loretta Entertainment Group, founded by ageless forward-thinking fashion designer and European mogul Antonini Loretta. That's right; Penny Antnee has signed a multi-million dollar recording and production deal with LEG. This is one of the first signings under LEG's new media division, NME, a division headed by none other than an often controversial figure in his own right, Jason North.”
“Fuck me,” I muttered as North's image appeared in a box over the entertainment reporter's shoulder.
“In a move that stunned many industry insiders, Jason North has assumed position as CEO of North Media Experience, or NME if you can't get enough of the acronyms. While assuming his new duties, Jason is also bringing his own label, On-Phire Records, onboard as part of what is sure to be a power player in the years to come.
“Again,
Access Hollywood
was on hand for an exclusive with Jason following this bombshell announcement. Our very own Billy Bush sat down with Jason at his new Manhattan offices to chat about his coup in signing Penny Antnee right out the gate.”
I watched my uncle preen like a peacock, stroking his goatee as a new media darling in spite of the lives he'd ruined, many by my hand. Whatever he was about to say was certain to be sheer bullshit.
“As someone who's familiar with the streets out there and knows what these young men have to go through, I'm blessed to be at this point in my career, where I can try to lift up entire communities from this new platform,” Jason crowed. “And with talented young men like Penny Antnee, there are limitless possibilities ahead. We just have to be sure not to let crazy rumors and innuendo detract from what we are trying to do.”
And the missing pieces to the puzzle were suddenly found.
Now I understood how Penny Antnee's people were able to track me down in Dallas.
Opportunity.
“I'm starving,” Collette said, glowing with a post-coital yawn and stretch. “Tacos are probably cold now, huh?”
I hit the power button on the remote. The screen faded to black as it went off, but I still saw Jason's smiling image.
“Don't worry. I'll warm them for you,” I replied, holding at bay the white-hot fury building within me.
Chapter 38
“You're not eating?” Collette asked. She wore the new clothes I'd bought for her.
“No. Stomach's upset,” I replied.
“Too many Chick-O-Sticks?” she followed up, pausing from gorging on her second warmed breakfast taco.
“I guess.”
“Okay. What'd I miss?”
“What do you mean, baby?” I asked with a light chuckle to dispel her notions.
“Usually when I give a man some, he's less dour than you are. Something happened while I slept.” Recent events had taken their toll on me. Left me careless, my poker face inadequate.
“Yeah,” I acknowledged. “I had time to think about this mess.”
“Whatever's meant to be, will be. An ulcer will do neither of us any good.”
“True. But you certainly sound less stressed than before.”
“What can I say? You gave me some. It made me less dour,” she joked as she resumed her feast. I slid the salsa closer for her to dip. She smiled, sensing my observance. The woman had been pushed beyond the limits of most and still could hazard a smile. Amazing. She inspired even someone as irredeemable as me.
The magic boob tube moved beyond things of importance to Oprah sharing Dr. Oz and his magic colon diagram with us, but my mind was fixed on its previous gift. I now understood the game being played. My time around On-Phire gave me insight into Jason's sundry methods and motivations. He'd pitched his ability to sign Penny Antnee to LEG as leverage for them choosing him as CEO. Then he turned around, pitching his ability to solve Penny's problem—me—in exchange for signing with his new division. Jason, being the ultimate opportunist, probably recognized my handiwork from the swiped Vegas photos and gave me up, pointing Penny's people in my general direction to seal the deal.
And Penny had gone all out, unleashing the hounds.
Without realizing it, I'd been clenching and unclenching my fist, knuckles rapping repeatedly on the table. She had to have heard it, felt the vibrations through the table, yet said nothing.
“Hey, I gotta run down to the office for a sec. See if there are any messages,” I offered up vaguely, finding myself needing some fresh air.
“Okay. But give me a kiss first.” When I leaned across the table, Collette offered, “Just be careful. Okay?”
“I will.”
I was dialing Jason's private number within mere steps outside the door. So frustrated was I that I dialed incorrectly, getting an error message the first time. I kept up my pace, ranging past the other units in quick succession. Instead of the office, I headed toward the pool on the opposite end of the building. A place I used to play. I dialed again as I approached the
OUT OF ORDER—NO SWIMMING
sign. This time, I dialed correctly, but it simply rang.
“Shit!” I cursed as I hung up and tried again. As it rang, I ignored the faded warning tape and walked to the edge of the drained pool. Someone answered as I stared down at the gunk and whatnot accumulated on the bottom through the years. Could've sworn I saw a rattlesnake slithering on about its business.
“Hello?” the soft female voice answered. Someone I'd never heard or spoken to before.
“Who's this?” I asked.
“You called,” she challenged. “You should know who you're trying to reach.”
“Put him on the phone now,” I snapped. There was a pause, a moment where I waited for her to either hang up or comply with my demand. She did neither.
“Whoever it is that you're trying to reach, they are no longer taking calls on this number.”
“Tell him I know. I figured it out. His deal. His part in this mess. Tell him he can stop them if he wants. Tell him that it would be in the best interests of all that he do so and quickly.”
“This person to whom you might be referring wants to remind you of your choice to end the relationship. So you will simply have to live with your choice.”
Live.
She spoke of life, while wishing death. Mine.
“Is that it?”
“Yes. This number is no longer any good . . . for you or for him. Have a nice day.”
Jason had cast aside the red flowing inside both of us in favor of the green that flows more readily on the avenues of power. Threats to the mysterious woman would do no good. “Fuck you,” I spat right before she terminated the call. I had to deal directly with Penny Antnee, whether or not he was willing to listen. But before I came calling, I had to make sure Collette was out of the line of fire.
I imagined the pool as it was decades earlier, filled with water, pleasant, safe, complete. With a brief smile of remembrance and a sense of longing, I pivoted then headed back to the room. Perhaps T or C was a place to shield Collette, as it did for me as a small child, but getting her to agree to this might be next to impossible.
By the time I arrived back at our door, I'd gone through some scenarios concerning Collette. I was about to put my key in the lock when I realized the door was already open. Maybe I hadn't closed it properly on my way out and the wind had forced it open.
Collette was gone from the table, a breakfast taco left half eaten. Nothing seemed out of place from moments ago.
“Collette?” I called out, figuring she might be in the bathroom. The silence set me on edge again. With a quick check of the room, I went rushing out the door. The parking lot offered no clues as to her whereabouts, frustrating me more. With no other possibilities, I moved toward the office.
When I ran up to the front window of the motel, my fears subsided. Collette was inside, talking to Daniel at the desk. I swear I hadn't left her alone that long, and didn't know she could move that fast in an unfamiliar environment. Always something new to love about her. Daniel seemed more animated than usual. Could've been the mere presence of a pretty lady had his Latin blood pumping. If I could read lips, I would've just stood there and observed them a while longer. Knowing she was free from harm, I composed myself before joining them inside.
The bell jingled, signaling my entrance. They turned in my direction, abruptly ending whatever they were saying. The way Daniel's eyes darted from me to Collette and back again, I worried that maybe he'd pulled information out of her.
“No need to stop on my account,” I offered, watching to see where things went from there.
“It's okay,” Collette said. “Daniel was just telling me more about Truth or Consequences.”
“Sí,” Daniel added with a smile. “I was telling your lady friend about some of the places she might like to see . . . uh . . . experience.” His head dropped in shame at the simple mistake. “I'm sorry, ma'am.”
“It's okay,” she said, accustomed to such stumbles. “Truth, Daniel recommended Elephant Butte Lake. Maybe we could go there.”
“You remember Elephant Butte, huh?” Daniel asked of me.
“Never got to see it,” I answered. “You kept my mother pretty busy, so she never really took me anywhere.”
“Oh. Well, maybe I can make it up to you . . . for your madre. Take my truck whenever you'd like. I really think the beautiful lady would enjoy it this time of year.”
“Thank you, Daniel. We might have to take you up on that.”
I excused us, not fully sure I could trust him, and hastily led her back to our room. No woman likes being rushed. The “pissed-offedness” was evident in her face and her short, choppy breaths as she tapped her stick.
“Why were you in there?” I asked.
“You said you were going to the office, so I went there to find you. And I wanted to get some air anyway. Is there a problem with that?”
“No. Sorry. I took a walk. Guess I lost track of time.”
“Apology accepted. But you have to make it up to me.”
“How?”
 
 
She rested her head in my lap as we sat in the back of Daniel's old truck. It was comfortably warm at the lake named for the eroded volcano resembling an elephant that jutted up from its center. The cool random gusts coming off the reservoir fed by the Rio Grande kept us from sweating. Being her eyes, I'd carefully described everything I saw from left to right, from the cheery boaters to the majestic San Andres Mountains off to the east. In describing them, I learned to appreciate the beauty of the butterflies, the simple elegance of the birds soaring overhead, the fascinating land features created by centuries of change. Of course, I knew the subject would eventually get back to me.
“Tell me about your story. The one you've been writing,” she said as I stroked her hair. There was still that big, shiny lie between us.
“It was on my laptop. All lost. When I get another, I'll get to work recreating it.”
“Will your publisher give you an extension?”
“I suppose. It's not my highest priority right now.”
“What is?”
“You. Staying alive.”
“In that order?”
“Yep. You come first. Because I can't live without you,” I volunteered in a moment that felt as if the world held its breath, listening.
“Tell me more about yourself, Truth. Any brothers or sisters?”
“No, not that I'm aware of.” I chuckled. “Only child as far I'm concerned.”
“Did you know your dad?”
“No,” I answered as I stopped stroking her hair, the image of a man popping to the forefront in my head. “Did you?”
“Yes. He and my mother were together until my freshman year at TCU. That's when they let me in on the secret that they didn't particularly care for one another.”
“Wow.”
“That's what I said . . . and then some. Affected my grades for two whole semesters. I almost dropped out because of it.”
“Where are they these days?” I asked, already knowing the answer, but playing the role. “Maybe you could stay with them until this—”
“Dead. They had me when they were older. Passed away within five months of getting divorced from one another.”
“That's kind of eerie.”
“Yeah. I had no one until I met my husband. My father was a serial cheater. I think Myron was too. Of course, he never admitted it. Sometimes I wonder if that had something to do with what happened to him.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” I offered, reliving my first encounter with her husband's mistress. Before everything ended in thunder and fury for Collette. My last encounter with my client had consisted of her clearing out her account and begging me to forget she'd even hired me. I didn't accept the extra money. “Do you miss him?”
“In spite of my suspicions? Yes.”
“I understand. Sometimes just a sliver of love can sustain one's heart,” I waxed as I resumed stroking her hair. Perhaps there was a writer in me.
“Truth?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you sleep with my cousin Sophia?”
I closed my eyes and answered, feeling the cool gust off the lake turn into a frigid arctic blast.

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