by T. J. Jones
The funny thing was that I was beginning to think of myself as a detective. Not the Chubby Gumshoe a certain redhead had started calling me, more a worn but still serviceable version of the guys on television that always cracked the case without ever firing a shot. I even had the sometimes comical, sarcastic, good looking side kick. The fact that I had yet to solve anything at all didn't fit into the fantasy, but I was working on it, and the sidekick.
"What are you staring at Slater? Do I have something on my face?" Maggie moved the mirror and peered at her own reflection.
"Your face is about as perfect as it can get."
"Have you been drinking, or are you trying to soften me up for the motel tonight? I told you, no fooling around. I'm only here because I know you need help with your Spanish."
"Not just my Spanish. You're good at this detective stuff. You figured out Davey's little map thing like it was nothing. I'd have got it, I was close." She knew that was bull. "Besides, I need more than just your mind. Some of these clubs are hard to get into. Looking like you do, we'll both be able to get in."
"I'm leaving you at the door, just to get even for the whole bicycle thing."
"You do realize I'm not obsessed with Angela? I'm over that."
She looked over at me. "I saw you staring at her when we were at your house."
"I stare at you all the time too. It's a guy thing, we're biologically programmed to look. If a guy doesn't stare at you or Angie, he's gay, I guarantee it."
"You really are a sexist ass, you know that?"
"It's biology, like I said." We drove along in silence for a while, then I said what was on my mind. "I hope what Davey was doing, I hope it wasn't something too awful."
"Nothing good about dealing drugs, Slater. How much money did Davey have hidden away? You said a lot, but you weren't specific.”
"Three million, give or take a few bucks."
"Wow, that is a lot, even for a drug dealer."
"Yeah, he must have been really good at it, or he was holding all that money for his boss. Maybe he was just keeping it for the big boss that Angie talked about."
"If that was the case, it would kind of eliminate whoever that is as a suspect, right? Didn't you say Davey's parents were the only ones with access to that account? Hard to get your money back from Eddy and Edith."
"Unless Eddy was in on it."
"No way Slater! Nobody is going to kill their own kid, not even for that kind of money."
"Maybe it was an accident, or maybe this boss of Davey's flipped. It's just a theory, I have a bunch of them."
"Maybe Davey got that money legitimately."
"Edith said he wouldn't take a dime from Eddy or her when he moved out. That was back when Eddy was still being a dick about Davey being gay."
"But Edith has told me they were alright the last few years."
"She didn't tell me about the money at first. She said it was because it made Davey look like a drug dealer, but I wonder if she thinks maybe Eddy is involved somehow too."
"I don't know about you, but I'm starting to think Davey didn't kill himself."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Same time, it would have to have been someone who knew that old barn was out back of the house."
"True, probably not a random drug dealer from Dubai." She mused.
"Somebody he knew, because he told his mother about the meeting. Unfortunately, it was most likely somebody from the Point."
"Where are we headed first?"
"I think we should go to his old office, maybe just walk in cold. If we call ahead, they'll have a chance to think about it and give us a canned answer. It isn't likely they're going to tell us anything, but maybe if we surprise them, we'll get some honest reaction. I called Davey's roommate and he said he would be home until early afternoon. He's got a few things he forgot to send to Edith, so maybe we'll get lucky."
"Long drive, but what a night."
The sun was settling in the west, while off Maggie's left shoulder a full moon was trying to drag itself out of the Atlantic. The water and the fading sunlight distorted the size and color, creating the illusion of a giant golden orb covering half the skyline. I was torn, between staring at the moon and watching the soft shadows play across Maggie's cheekbones. She finally pulled her eyes from the scene, glanced over at me and caught me looking at her. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
"Sure as hell is." I think she knew what I meant.
***
The hotel was awkward. The two beds weren't very far apart and neither was very big. As I joke, I suggested we push them together, but that didn't happen. I wore a pair of boxers to bed. I didn't make a spectacle of it, just slipped under the covers on my side of the room after pulling the rest of my clothes off.
Maggie must have packed with the shared room in mind. She wore a pair of flannels that left everything to the imagination. It had been a long drive and I was beat. "Night Maggie, thanks for coming along."
"Beats being around Dad and Angie. I hate the way he treats her."
"Didn't work on you I noticed."
"Angie always tries so hard to please him, I don't really get it."
"You two are very different, and I mean that as a compliment."
"And yet she is the one you're obsessed with."
"Jealous again? Or was that a hint?"
"Not a hint Slater, go to sleep." She was only quiet for a moment. "Slater?"
"Yeah?"
"You didn't deny it this time, about being obsessed with Angie."
I rolled over and could see the trace of a smile on her face. "Can't deny I was, but things change. I'd really like a normal relationship with someone that knows what they want."
She was quiet again for half a minute. "I thought I had that, but it went to hell. I wouldn't want to go through that again, not anytime soon."
"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, just so you know."
"Is that a hint?" She chuckled.
"I don't hint. I'm here when you're ready." I couldn't say it any plainer.
"Thanks Slater. I'm glad I came down here with you. Goodnight."
"Yeah, goodnight."
***
We slept in the next morning, and by the time we had breakfast and both showered, it was ten o'clock. I dressed in my normal Florida attire; shorts, a golf shirt, and sandals. Maggie put in a little more effort.
She wore shorts, some sort of a hot orange color with short platform shoes and a tank top that tied in the front and accented her taut stomach and revealed plenty of cleavage. Maggie wasn’t thin like her sister, and I'm not saying that's a bad thing. All that training and working out had paid off and her legs rippled with muscle when she walked across the room. I had to say something.
"Jesus, every guy in Miami is going to want to be me. Nice!"
"Sexist again Slater." She commented, but she was smiling and her cheeks colored.
"Screw being politically correct, you look crazy hot."
"Thank you. Unfortunate as it sometimes is, you attract more flies with honey. Actually, I think Angie told me that one time."
"She would know." Wrong thing to say, the smile disappeared. I covered as best I could. "They opened at nine, we better get going."
We took Maggie's car since Davey's office was close and parking looked feasible. The building looked better than what I'd seen online, as did the neighborhood. There were several businesses sharing the space. The main floor was occupied by a pawn shop and a bail bondsman, but there was a sign indicating that Miami Talent and Model Management was on the second floor. There was a small lobby of sorts with an elevator and a set of stairs. Maggie ignored the elevator and we climbed the stairs to a landing. A small sign indicated a lawyers' office on one side, and by default we opened the door with an opaque glass window that was across the hall. We walked in carefully, not completely sure we were in the right spot.
A woman about Maggie's age sat behind a desk, snapping her gum and studying a computer screen. She glanced at us and pointed at a row of chairs along the wal
l. "Be with you in a minute. Andy, I mean Mr. Gleason, is with a client right now. They had an appointment." She appraised Maggie top to bottom and smiled. "He's got a meeting downtown, but he's going to want to talk to you."
"But, we're not…" Maggie started. I grabbed her elbow and steered her over to the chairs.
After we sat down, I leaned in and whispered to her. "She thinks you're looking for a gig, just play along. The flies and honey thing." There were two offices in the small space and Davey's name was still on the second door. The stenciling proclaimed he was the manager and head of talent acquisitions.
Ten minutes later the first door opened and a red-headed boy in need of a front tooth and a comb burst out of the office. A disgruntled looking woman steered him past us and out the door without saying a word. A squat middle-aged man with a cheesy mustache and terrible pit stains stepped through the open door. He tipped his head in our direction. "Susy?"
"Walk-ins. Thought you'd probably want to talk to them."
Mr. Gleason looked at us and like Susy, gave Maggie the up and down, then walked across the room with his hand out. We both stood up and shook hands. He looked at her again, piece by piece without any attempt at discretion.
"You're a very attractive girl, and well proportioned. A little older than the girls we usually get in here, but some clients are looking for that. Mr. Slater, are you Maggie's representation?"
"No, ah, she's my fiancée."
Maggie spoke up. "I saw your sign, and, honestly I always thought it would be fun to maybe talk to someone in the business. I'm not expecting much, but maybe I could pick up a few bucks? I see girls at the boat shows just standing around and handing out cards, I could do that. And I can sing reasonably well. I know I'm too old, but I figured I'd give it a shot if you're interested."
"You're very pretty. Do you have any glam shots?" Maggie shrugged and looked disappointed. Pit-stains frowned and shook his head. "In order to sign you, and so we can promote you properly, we need pictures."
"Well, this was kind of spur of the moment. Sorry, maybe I'll have to come back."
I presumed she was fishing, so I went along. "Yeah Mags, let's just come back."
Pit-stains spoke up. "I'd hate to see you have to do that. You look great just the way you are and we have a little studio in the back. I get people in here all the time, like the woman that just left, sure little Tommy is going to be a movie star, and sometimes I take shots just to make them happy. I could put a portfolio together for you pretty quickly. Of course, there'd be a fee."
"What do you think, Hon?" Maggie looked at me and took my hand.
"Anything you want, Sugs." I grinned at her. "Anything to make my girl happy."
"You're the sweetest!" She smiled and dug a nail into my wrist.
"You can pay Susy, Mr. Slater. It'll only take a few minutes, half hour tops. I would ask that you wait out here. I need Maggie to concentrate on what I'm asking for. Susy, you remember how to do that, right?" The receptionist nodded.
"God, I feel like an actual model." Maggie gushed. "This is going to be so cool." Andy opened his office door and followed her in. I hoped he would behave himself, for his sake.
"It'll be five hundred for the pictures." Susy said.
I stood up and peeled off the cash, then looked around the office. "We should have known to bring pictures. It wasn't just random us coming in here."
"Yeah? A lot of girls have to work up the nerve, figure they aren't pretty enough. Your fiancée is a knockout, she'll do fine."
"That's not what I meant. I brought her in here because one of your agents suggested it, but he never said anything about needing pictures. We ran into him in a club over at the Beach and he told Maggie she should be modeling. I thought at first he was trying to hit on her, but I got the impression he was gay, so I figured maybe he wasn't just feeding her a line. I have his card." I fumbled for one of Davey's cards, but it wasn't necessary.
Susy turned ashen. "Davey, that was Davey Templeton." She pointed at the office door with his name on it. "Davey killed himself about a month ago, not too long after I started here. He was such a good guy, and we got really close in the short amount of time I worked with him. I loved that man." She tipped her head in the direction of Andy's office. "That asshole wouldn't even give me the day off to go to the funeral."
"Oh God, I'm sorry. It was about a month ago when he and I talked, it must have been right before it happened. He didn't seem like the type, but I guess you never know."
"I still can't believe it. You saw him in one of the clubs at South Beach?" I nodded and she got suddenly curious. "Was he alone the night you talked to him or with some other guy?"
"Alone, I think. I guess I don't remember. Why?" It seemed like an odd question.
"I think he was hanging out with some creep. I always wondered if that was why he killed himself. Someone was hitting him, he had bruises."
"Being gay, people can be assholes."
"Yeah, but it happened too often. Davey was a great guy. If somebody was mean to him and he killed himself because of it, I'd like to give him a good swift kick where it counts, if you get my drift."
"Sure, but I don't remember him being with anyone."
She glanced at the office door. "He was talking about quitting, said he needed to be at home. I know he had family up north he worried about. Wish he had gone." She seemed lost in thought for a moment and I was afraid she might cry, then she came back to me. "So, your fiancée never thought about modeling before?"
"We come from a small town, she never had the chance to talk to a real talent scout before. Do you just represent people in Miami?"
"No, we have other branches, even a couple overseas. That's why Andy didn't like Davey, he got to travel and Andy didn't. But we have branches in New York, LA, Seattle, and Minneapolis. We get girls down from up there a lot, wanting to get out of the cold, I guess. A lot of those girls end up at the strip clubs."
"No way, you represent strippers?"
"Kind of, we send them to the clubs if they're interested and we get a fee. Money's money, right? High class stuff, no hookers or anything."
"If that's what your guy has in mind for Maggie, he's not going to be happy. She won't go for that, more likely to give him that swift kick you were talking about."
"It's part of the business. David was always careful that the girls were legal and weren't being forced into it. I know for a fact he gave some of them money out of his own pocket to go home when things got too tough for them. Like I said, he was a great guy."
"Is it normal for modeling agencies to get involved with strippers and that kind of stuff?"
"I haven't been doing this long enough to say, but who knows what's normal anymore, right? It's all about the money."
"Yeah, not the first time I've heard that."
I wanted to keep it going, but the phone rang so I sat back down. After the phone call Susy disappeared into the bathroom and came out red-eyed and sniffling. I smiled sympathetically and sat reading an old magazine for another ten minutes. Maggie came out followed by Andy. He was smiling, but seemed a little more restrained than before. He shook my hand again. "You have my number Maggie, and I have yours, let's stay in touch. I'll give you a call if something you might be interested in comes up."
We went down the stairs and into the street before she said anything. "Andy was an interesting guy, if you're interested in disgusting scumbags that keep trying to touch your ass. He said I could to go to work tomorrow if I was willing to take my clothes off."
"No deal though, right?"
"Bite me Slater." She growled. "Did my complete humiliation accomplish anything? Did you get anything out of the receptionist?"
"Davey was a great guy as far as she was concerned. She seemed really upset that he had killed himself. She said he traveled a lot and she thought he was in an abusive relationship, said he showed up with bruises and stuff."
"Well, that's a lot isn't it? Maybe his roommate can fill in the gaps. Angie
swears there was no boyfriend, but maybe he didn't want to tell her if things were that bad."
"Or she didn't want to tell us."
"Yeah, she always stuck up for him. But I have to believe she'd tell us about that if she knew, it wouldn't be the first time some psycho guy killed his lover."
I jumped on that. "Sexist! A lot of psycho women have done the same thing."
"True, I have to admit that. At the moment, I can see how it might happen."
I wasn't sure if she was talking about Gleason or me, so I shut my mouth.
***
Parking is a nightmare at South Beach and it wasn't worth the hassle of worrying about Maggie's car being vandalized while we were out clubbing, so we took a cab.
Davey's apartment was on the fifteenth floor of a luxury apartment building, tall enough to see the beach and the have an ocean view even though it was four blocks away. Location, location is what they say, and it would have been hard to find a better one. Prime real estate, and undoubtedly an expensive place to live. They even had a doorman. He eyed us uneasily, and pushed a button on his desk phone, then opened the elevator for us, saying Mr. Chopra was expecting us.
There were only two apartments on the fifteenth floor. A window in the small hallway beside the elevator looked south and east. The building was situated so that none of the large hotels down on Ocean blocked the view and I could see the beach and the wind swept Atlantic beyond. From that distance the throng of people already filling up the bright white sand looked like so many ants scurrying around on spilled sugar, all in a hurry to claim the sweetest spot. September was still blistering hot at this latitude, and the beaches would be full by early afternoon.
The door swung open before we knocked and a stunning girl in her mid-twenties stepped out of the apartment, smiled at us shyly, and walked over to the elevator. Her hair and skin were dark and she had a red dot on her forehead which I happened to know was called a bindi. That was the sum total of my knowledge of Indian culture and I may have been staring.
"Slater!" Maggie poked me with her elbow.
The young Indian man who held out his hand was as attractive as his friend, in a guy way. Maggie shook his hand. "Hi, Samath is it? I'm Maggie Jeffries and this is Eric Slater."
