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Authors: Tom Piccirilli
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were right, the writer’s been getting a lot of publicity again. He’s being hailed as a hero. Interviewed on all the major talk shows. They might overturn his brother’s conviction. Killing Time is going to be a big release.”
“None of it means anything to me.”
“None of it means anything to anybody. It’s just what we do.”
“It’s not what I do.”
“Not yet maybe, but why not play along until something better comes around?”
He imagined the next phone call with Pax, telling him about being in a movie, and that Grey was doing better than the guys playing opposite the gorilla.
“We have a new agent, by the way,” she said.
He didn’t ask who. “I’m leaving.”
“When?”
“Now.”
“Where?”
“New York.”
“I’ll go with you. Killing Time starts in six weeks. You can show me the lay of the land before we start. I need to work on my east coast accent.”
“I’m not starting anything. And I need to go alone.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to find John Raymond.”
“You’re still on that?”
He turned and she put her hand on his belly and started rubbing him the way she might try to calm a wired puppy. He wondered why she thought that he would stop looking for Ellie just because this dumb-ass film fell in his lap. Did she sincerely believe that once he had some cash he could set the search for his sister aside? That all he needed was something shiny flashed in front of his nose to make him forget the knife sticking out of Ellie’s side, the blood on her teeth, the tracks, the hardness? These people, didn’t they hold anyone or anything sacred?
The women out in the desert, the dust in the hollows of their cheeks, the careless way they smeared their lipstick on, the way their shoulders bowed beneath the burdens of their loneliness and failed dreams. It wasn’t only L.A. He thought of the savagery in their kisses and the way they pleaded with him to commit murder. Everyone had a scheme. Everyone had a plan. They all wanted a dupe. At least Monty had manned up at the end and taken responsibility.
“What is it?” Kendra said. “What’s this expression on your face?”
“Nothing.”
He drank directly from the bottle and finished about half the champagne. Then he packed his few bags, put them by the door.
“You’ll need money,” she said. She took the dowel off the corner post of the bed and he saw that inside there was a niche deep enough to hold a wad of cash. At least it proved she didn’t trust him enough to keep her money lying around. She pulled it out and counted off five thousand. “Here, you deserve it. You picked the script. You won me the audition. You made it happen. Besides, Monty won’t be getting a cut in prison.”
“I can’t take it,” he said.
“Call it a loan. Until you get your check from the company.”
“I’m not doing the movie.”
“I think you will when the time comes.” She stuffed the roll of bills in his hand. “Who knows, maybe you really will find your sister in the next six weeks. Maybe you can even help her get a bit part in the film. Isn’t that better than doing damage?”
He thought, No.
20
After twenty hours on the road Grey started to see double. He pulled over and got a room at a highway motel outside of Oklahoma City. Tired as he was he couldn’t fall asleep, so he spent a couple of hours flipping through the cable stations. He half-expected to find one of Kendra’s movies but there weren’t any playing. He checked the adult entertainment channels and saw he could order an Eva Rains and Harvey Wallbanger film for $19.99. He drew out Ellie’s photo and stared at it, thinking again about how he’d let her go and hadn’t done enough to protect her. He dropped off with the sun still shining and had fitful dreams about Pax beating hell out of old man Wagner, neo-Nazis and monkeys, Monty’s wife’s brains running like undercooked
“None of it means anything to me.”
“None of it means anything to anybody. It’s just what we do.”
“It’s not what I do.”
“Not yet maybe, but why not play along until something better comes around?”
He imagined the next phone call with Pax, telling him about being in a movie, and that Grey was doing better than the guys playing opposite the gorilla.
“We have a new agent, by the way,” she said.
He didn’t ask who. “I’m leaving.”
“When?”
“Now.”
“Where?”
“New York.”
“I’ll go with you. Killing Time starts in six weeks. You can show me the lay of the land before we start. I need to work on my east coast accent.”
“I’m not starting anything. And I need to go alone.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to find John Raymond.”
“You’re still on that?”
He turned and she put her hand on his belly and started rubbing him the way she might try to calm a wired puppy. He wondered why she thought that he would stop looking for Ellie just because this dumb-ass film fell in his lap. Did she sincerely believe that once he had some cash he could set the search for his sister aside? That all he needed was something shiny flashed in front of his nose to make him forget the knife sticking out of Ellie’s side, the blood on her teeth, the tracks, the hardness? These people, didn’t they hold anyone or anything sacred?
The women out in the desert, the dust in the hollows of their cheeks, the careless way they smeared their lipstick on, the way their shoulders bowed beneath the burdens of their loneliness and failed dreams. It wasn’t only L.A. He thought of the savagery in their kisses and the way they pleaded with him to commit murder. Everyone had a scheme. Everyone had a plan. They all wanted a dupe. At least Monty had manned up at the end and taken responsibility.
“What is it?” Kendra said. “What’s this expression on your face?”
“Nothing.”
He drank directly from the bottle and finished about half the champagne. Then he packed his few bags, put them by the door.
“You’ll need money,” she said. She took the dowel off the corner post of the bed and he saw that inside there was a niche deep enough to hold a wad of cash. At least it proved she didn’t trust him enough to keep her money lying around. She pulled it out and counted off five thousand. “Here, you deserve it. You picked the script. You won me the audition. You made it happen. Besides, Monty won’t be getting a cut in prison.”
“I can’t take it,” he said.
“Call it a loan. Until you get your check from the company.”
“I’m not doing the movie.”
“I think you will when the time comes.” She stuffed the roll of bills in his hand. “Who knows, maybe you really will find your sister in the next six weeks. Maybe you can even help her get a bit part in the film. Isn’t that better than doing damage?”
He thought, No.
20
After twenty hours on the road Grey started to see double. He pulled over and got a room at a highway motel outside of Oklahoma City. Tired as he was he couldn’t fall asleep, so he spent a couple of hours flipping through the cable stations. He half-expected to find one of Kendra’s movies but there weren’t any playing. He checked the adult entertainment channels and saw he could order an Eva Rains and Harvey Wallbanger film for $19.99. He drew out Ellie’s photo and stared at it, thinking again about how he’d let her go and hadn’t done enough to protect her. He dropped off with the sun still shining and had fitful dreams about Pax beating hell out of old man Wagner, neo-Nazis and monkeys, Monty’s wife’s brains running like undercooked
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