The Down and Out Page 8

  It was a story Hollywood would pay big bucks to tell.

  And if Shawnee was difficult, gave him guff, Ford would kill her. That would work, too.

  Ford rose to his feet, feeling invigorated. He looked at the prop skeleton next to him. An old epitaph sprang to mind. As I am, you soon shall be.

  Ford kicked the skeleton so hard its head came off.

  “Damn it!” Leonides thrust his cell phone into his blazer pocket.

  Rachel made a beeline for her coffee-filled thermos as she entered her office. She knew she’d lost a lot of momentum with Leonides, and now he was angry about something.

  Being delayed for nearly a half-hour couldn’t have helped Leonides’ mood. Rachel had to arrange a money transfer to Stanley Ng, which took all of five minutes. The con-killer was tracking Stanley down to negotiate the price of Marvin’s debt. Turns out Stanley is a hard man to get on the phone before two p.m.

  To top it off, that damn schoolteacher wanted proof Marvin was off the hook for his debt. Stanley was too hung over to make any kind of legal document happen. Instead he sent Marvin a digital recording he made on his cell phone, declaring Marvin “free and clear of any and all debt to Stanley Ng or any of his business entities.” It was funny seeing Stanley Ng in his silk jammies. Funnier still to see the woman in bed next to him snoring through the recording.

  “Anything wrong?” Rachel said, downing half a cup.

  “Yes, since you ask,” Leonides said. “I can’t track my recruiter down. I was expecting to hear from Carlos this morning, but nothing. Between you and me, I can’t wait to be rid of that scum.”

  Rachel thought she knew why Carlos wasn’t contacting Leonides. Loto. “You won’t need recruiters when we make our movie.”

  Leonides fixed her with a disapproving stare. “I don’t appreciate being kept waiting half an hour, Shawnee. But maybe it’s beneficial that I was. It gave me time to think.”

  I knew this would happen! There was a whole different vibe now. “I get that. But I’ve always got fires to put out here. That’s why I’m on the lot. I’m wrapping up a failed TV project with episodes to deliver.”

  Leonides sat down on the couch. He waited for Shawnee to join him. “I have business interests, Shawnee. A medical practice. My recruiter has vanished. I’m putting every damn thing on hold for this meeting.”

  Rachel was tired and worried and now she had to talk Leonides off the ledge. It was hard for her not to think about Sam.

  Sam. Rachel realized her phone was in the other room. Leonides had said he’d heard it ring. It must be charged by now.

  “If you want to be my partner on this,” she said, “understand I’ll always have some other iron in the fire. That’s the nature of the business.”

  Leonides frowned but didn’t reply.

  Rachel forged on. “Anyway, this was Harris’ call, Leo. Yours and Harris’. I didn’t ask you to option Joystick. But here we are. And like I said earlier, this could work out. Even better than before.”

  “I’m not sure a pay-or-play deal is enough of a guarantee. I need to meet with Reed Bennek. I’m just not convinced.”

  Rachel walked around her desk. She knew if she excused herself one more time, it might be the breaking point for Leonides’ ego.

  But what if that call had been from Sam?

  Rachel decided to come at Leonides hard. Then get to her phone. “Hey, I get it. Making movies isn’t for the weak and fearful. You put yourself out there, every flaw and defect. If you’re deemed not worthy, it’s on your permanent record and you’re sent packing. If you don’t believe in your dreams, don’t force it. Stay where you are, take your pay, live a lie, burn out on TV and You Tube and squabbling with like-minded losers on the internet. Pretend you’re some kind of half-assed expert on Star Trek or Breaking Bad or Japanese porn cartoons and live your life one internet post to the next. Until one day you’re on the couch and you finally realize, after all those wasted weeks, months, and years, that you’re not an original and it’s too late to even try.”

  Leonides’ mouth was open. He swallowed a dry clump of saliva. “How do you know about my internet posts?”

  “Either you’re in or you’re out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

  Rachel closed the door behind her, certain the deal was off. This was a two-person con from the beginning. Every corner I turn, there’s another emergency. And if I don’t hear something about Sam, anything, I’m going to explode.

  At the end of the hallway, an older man in a Panama hat with a black band walked in the door. When he and Rachel locked eyes, she had a rotten feeling.

  “Shawnee,” he called to her. “Got time for a little chat?”

  As bad as she wanted to get to her cell phone, to hear news about Sam, every instinct told her to turn and run.

  “Don’t think about it,” he said, reaching inside his jacket.

  Rachel dashed towards the entrance. Two women pushing a wardrobe cart with forties-era dresses were headed towards her.

  Rachel slid between them and the wall. Hot daylight flooded the hallway as she opened the door. She turned to see the man waving a gun. “Shawnee!” he yelled.

  “Call security!” Shawnee said, closing the door.

  She knew Marvin’s electric cart was just around the corner. She considered taking it and making a run for the backlot. The guy seemed pretty old. She’d lose him in no time. Unless he got a clear shot.

  Shawnee had a better idea.

  She ran off towards the Garcia Building, where she originally had her office. She’d given her office keys back to Marvin but had kept her electronic fob for the building’s entrance.

  Shawnee shut the door and slammed the deadbolt in place. If the old guy had keys, he’d need a separate one for that.

  The first floor seemed deserted. Police tape cordoned off her old office. She tried the door, hoping to go inside and use the phone. The door was locked.

  Rachel was tempted to stay and wait the old guy out. He didn’t seem to fit the bill for someone Little Vincent would send from Philly, but she knew their tentacles reached far and wide. Maybe they were holding the old guy’s grandson hostage. Maybe his wife. He was willing to draw down in public like he had nothing to lose.

  She heard someone pulling at the front door. Rachel ran down the hallway and into the common kitchen area. She faced a row of windows.

  She unlocked the farthest one and opened it. Rachel was hoping that the old guy would try to follow her out that way.

  A sharp gunshot slammed into the front door. Rachel took one last look at the window and ran out the back entrance.

  The street that ran along the sound stages was bustling with crew members.

  She saw a man in a police uniform and ran up to him. “There’s a crazy old guy with a gun! In there!” Rachel said, pointing to the Garcia Building.

  “Sorry, lady. I’m a day player.”

  She spotted the sound stage that stood behind her new office building. From this side, it looked like a vast warehouse. If she could make her way through it, she could get back to her new building.

  Rachel followed two men carrying an art deco bar trolley into the front of the sound stage. Inside was a warren of rooms connected by cables, voices, and arrays of lights. In between the lights, shadows and dimly lit recesses. The focus of activity seemed to be somewhere near the center of the building. Rachel was immediately lost.

  She entered a room that looked like a set for a laboratory. She bumped into a table and a test tube crashed to the floor.

  “Hot set! Watch where you’re going!” a woman in overalls yelled at her.

  Rachel backed out. I got to get out of this place. I have to see if Sam called.

  To her left was a low set wall. She saw the tops of heads as people walked on the other side and around the corner towards her. Rachel caught her breath when she saw a panama hat come her way. She turned to run and nearly smashed into the back
of another set wall. Rachel spun around just as a young actor wearing the Panama hat and a false mustache emerged from behind the wall. He held script sides and mumbled dialogue.

  Rachel exhaled a lungful of air. “Excuse me,” Rachel said to him. “Where’s the back entrance?”

  “Follow the cables over there to your right.”

  “Break a leg,” she said.

  Rachel was plunged into darkness as she felt her way along the padded wall of the stage.

  “Rolling!” someone yelled from somewhere near the center of the voluminous space.

  She kept walking, suddenly aware of the noise her footsteps were making.

  “Quiet!”

  Rachel didn’t care if her footsteps were making too much noise. She needed to get to her phone. Or any phone. She needed to hear about Sam.

  She reached a large wooden door and pulled it open.

  “Damn it, stop moving!” the same voice bellowed.

  Rachel stepped into the sunlight. There was a public restroom, and a stone path that led around the side of her new building. Exactly what she was looking for.

  She walked the thin space between her building and a smaller one, counting the picture windows until she came to the one from Marvin’s editing room. It was over six feet off the ground and she had to stand on her tippy toes to knock.

  Rachel figured she’d get her phone from Marvin’s room and check her messages. If she could, she’d collect her laptop and make her apologies to Leonides. If there was any juice left in the con, any electricity left in his lizard-loins for her, he’d take a rain check for a new meeting.

  As long as she got Sam back, it didn’t matter.

  No one responded to her knock. Maybe Marvin was out of the room. She was pretty sure he took a vape break every couple hours. She looked up to knock again and stopped. Staring down at her from the window was the old man in the Panama hat. He was holding a .38 Special.

  The explosion shocked her. Glass rained down on her and her ears buzzed so hard she couldn’t hear her own scream.

  “Got your attention, Shawnee?”

  Rachel couldn’t answer at first. When she realized she wasn’t shot, she was filled with anger. “Who are you?” she screamed. “What do you want?”

  The old man looked down the gun barrel at her. “Don’t play dumb, Shawnee. You know damn well who I am.”

  If Philly sent him, he’d be calling me Rachel. Her mind raced, but she couldn’t place him. If he’s the same one who attacked the producer who looked like me, he can’t be totally sure who I am. “No! I don’t know you. You’re making a mistake.”

  Ford frowned. Rachel thought she read doubt in the old man’s rugged face, but she wasn’t sure.

  “I’ll tell you who I am, griftie. I’m all the bullshit that you’ve done. All the cons and lies finally caught up you. The world isn’t going miss you.”

  “I’m telling you that you have the wrong person!”

  The old man raised the gun.

  Rachel closed her eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not without Sam. Not alone.

  She heard a high-pitched shriek. She opened her eyes in time to see the old man fall out the window. He landed face first onto the stone pathway.

  Lynn stood in the window, looking fierce. “Run, Red!” Lynn yelled.

  Damn! Rachel couldn’t believe it. The schoolteacher pushed the old man out the window. She saved my life. Noonchie strikes again.

  The old man groaned, tried to rise. He still held the gun. Rachel kicked him in the side. “What’s the matter, old man? Fallen and you can’t get up?” She punched him in the head. His Panama hat fell off. She kicked him again. He fired the gun into the ground.

  Rachel turned and ran down the path to the end of the building and rounded the corner.

  There, at the front entrance to the building, stood Reed Bennek. He was someone Rachel was never supposed to see again. He was action-hero buff when she and Sam took him for three hundred thousand dollars two years ago. He now looked “bigger and badder than ever,” which was, coincidentally, the tag line to his last movie.

  Reed did a double take when he saw Rachel. “Shawnee?”

  There was no way Reed could be happy about seeing her. Rachel was already in full-on flight mode. She turned and slammed into someone. Strong arms wrapped around her. She struggled to get free.

  “Rachel,” a voice whispered. “It’s me.”

  Rachel took in a quick gasp of air. She looked into Sam’s eyes, feeling lightheaded.

  “Reed is on our side,” Sam whispered. “Be cool. Just follow my lead.”

  She wanted to wrap her arms around Sam. She wanted to kiss him, tell him everything. She had to summon strength from her deepest reserves to stop from falling apart.

  Funny thing. Watching dailies with Marvin, having him point out the craft of what the actors were doing, flashed in her mind. She was acting right now, just like them. She’d always been playing roles in service to the almighty grift. Today, right now, it was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. She felt like she was holding her breath too long and could burst at any moment.

  “Whoa, what’s your hurry?” Sam said aloud. “I brought an old friend.”

  Reed embraced her. “I can’t tell you how badly I’ve wanted to see you. How much I’ve thought about working with you.” Reed wrapped his muscled arms around them both. “You too, Clay. I’ve got a lot of advisors and no friends. A lot of overpriced wisdom and nothing but mistakes to show for it. I feel bad about what Mol did to you two. He tried to ruin me, and I guess he did that and more to the both of you.” Reed clapped his hands together. “That’s all in the past. I’ve been talking to Clay here, and he agrees. Shawnee, there’s no reason we can’t make our movie.”

  Rachel swallowed hard. “That sounds wonderful, Reed.” She stepped back, peering down the narrow walk from which she’d just escaped death. The old man stumbled away towards the back of the building. Rachel watched until he was gone. His stupid Panama hat lay on the ground where he’d fallen.

  Leonides came pushing out the double glass doors of the building. He was on his cell phone, and Rachel could tell he was pissed. Reed’s back was to Leonides, and when Leonides noticed Rachel and Sam he scowled.

  “Unbelievable,” Leonides said. “Biggest waste of my time ever. I’m done with all this. Done!”

  “Before you go, Leonides,” Sam said, “I want you to meet Reed Bennek.”

  Reed turned to Leonides. “Clay told me all about you, Mark. Hopefully we’ll be working together soon.”

  Leonides suddenly looked like a little boy standing in line to get an autograph. He couldn’t take his eyes off Reed Bennek. It was like he was fourteen again. “Mr. Bennek. Wow. I’m just a huge fan. I’ve seen, like, all your movies. Twice, at least. You are just, so cool.” Leonides giggled.

  Rachel wasn’t sure what story Sam had concocted for Reed, but it seemed to cover all the angles. She knew you never let the big lie linger. The grift was in the emotion, the momentum. She had to get Leonides away from Reed before this thing flew apart.

  “Reed, I have important business with Mark to discuss.” Rachel turned to Leonides. “Isn’t that right?”

  Leonides had a hard time peeling his eyes away from Reed Bennek. “Yes! We need to jump on that right away.”

  “Can we talk later tonight, Reed?”

  “I insist on it, Shawnee. This afternoon, if possible. I have one last ADR session for Road. I’m done with Demolition Road sequels for good after this. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. If you knew how long I’ve been waiting.” Reed laughed to himself. “I want to make this all legal before you disappear again, Shawnee. I’m on a red eye tonight. So be at my house, six o’clock. Bring your lawyers.” Reed put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I want you there too.”

  “With pleasure,” Sam said.

  Rachel and Sam turned back to the building with Leonides, leaving Bennek beh
ind.

  “Who’s Clay?” Leonides asked.

  “A mutual friend,” Rachel said. She and Sam hung back, letting their hands brush up against each other.

  “Nice shoes,” Rachel whispered.

  Sam stood under the shower of his motel room, letting the hot water wash the last of the dirt and grime of the street away. He was stuffed to the gills with Szechuan Scallops and Shrimp Fried Rice. Now Sam fought drowsiness. He chugged the lukewarm triple shot Americano and placed the cup back on the sink counter.

  If I’m tired, Rachel must be just as tired. I can’t wait to be alone with her. To hold her. There’d been little time for that. She was finishing up with the mark named Mark.

  Sam was dead on his feet, but he still felt that familiar electric buzz, knowing Rachel was close to taking Leonides for six hundred and fifty thousand. Even after Stanley Ng’s cut, paying off Marvin’s debt, their “donation” to the mission, Shinika and all the other expenditures, nearly two hundred thousand would be waiting in their Cayman account.

  Sam told Rachel to make the meeting happen at Dynamic Studios. No way he wanted her to go to Leonides’ lawyer’s office in Pasadena. That building and its parking garage could burn to the ground.

  Sam reluctantly shut off the hot water and left the cold running. He needed to be awake for their next meeting. He still marveled at the how well his story worked with Reed. The best part was telling Reed that Leonides was an accountant Shawnee wanted to bring on the film. It was risky, but the encounter between Reed and Leonides had sealed the deal. Each man saw the scene through the lens that he and Rachel had crafted for them.

  Sam’s phone dinged with an incoming text.

  Done with Leonides. Got the money. There’s a hitch.

  “It was a light-haired guy wearing green Adidas?” Lomax said.

  “Sure as shit. Saw him go into that Pagoda Motel. Room six. Later on, some hot ginger picked him up,” Lil Wolfie said into his cell phone.