The Ten-Ounce Siesta

FOUR

Jack was just about to phone Angel Gemignani when she knocked on his front door.

“I just got your message,” he explained. “What’s going on? You didn’t sound so great.”

Angel didn’t look so great, either. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had obviously spent the night crying instead of sleeping.

Jack showed her to the living room. “I couldn’t stand waiting around the Casbah,” she said. “I had to get out. I figured maybe you didn’t return my call because of the other night. I know you and Grandpa Freddy are friends and everything. . and I know I must seem like some kind of schizo to you. I guess I came on pretty strong, and then when my granddad showed up-”

“It takes two to dance that dance,” Jack said. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Angel smiled one of those peculiar smiles that holds no pleasure. “Anyway, I thought maybe you were mad at me. I’m glad you’re not, because I really need to talk to you. If Tony Katt has something to do with Spike’s kidnapping. .”

“I’m not mad,” Jack said. “And I was going to call you. I just got in. As for Tony Katt, I’m not sure what part he plays in all this. All I know for sure is that one of the dognappers is an old friend of Tony’s.”

“Okay.” Angel yawned. “God. . what time is it, anyway?”

“Almost five.”

Angel sat down on Jack’s couch. “I can’t even remember the last time I was up this early.”

“You mean when you weren’t still up from the night before.”

Jack had intended the comment as a joke. Judging from Angel’s expression, she didn’t take it that way. She looked as if she’d been slapped when she least expected it.

“Hey,” Jack said. “I’m sorry. Whatever I said-”

“It’s okay.” Angel wiped her eyes. “I’m just really tired. This whole thing with Spike has me seriously screwed up.” Jack handed her a Kleenex. “I was just going to make some coffee. Feel like a cup?”

“Sure.”

Jack ground some French roast and got the coffee brewing. From the kitchen, he kept an eye on Angel. The way she was fidgeting, he got the feeling that she wouldn’t be able to sit still for long.

He was right. Angel rose and sorted through the old suspense paperbacks piled on his desktop, laughing softly at overblown cover copy hacked out in the fifties.

At least she could still laugh. Jack poured two cups of coffee and returned to the living room. Angel was looking at the framed picture of Kate Benteen that he kept on his desk, the one that he had clipped from an old issue of Vanity Fair. “Is this your girl?” Angel asked.

“Well, she’s nobody’s girl." Jack smiled.

So did Angel. “One of those, huh?”

“Yeah. One of those.”

“So what’s the story?”

“I’m waiting to see if she calls me or not.”

“How long have you been waiting?”

Jack blushed. He suddenly felt like looking at his shoes. Angel asked again. “How long?”

“Almost a year.”

“Uh-huh.” Angel smiled. “So, like I said, what’s the story?”

The question hit Jack between the eyes. He had to think about it for a minute. The whole thing with Kate was so complicated. But Angel’s question was really simple.

So was Jack’s answer, though this was the first time he had ever articulated it. “I guess the story is that I’m in love with her, and I’m waiting to see if she’s in love with me.”

“Do you know how long you’re going to wait, Jack?”

“No, I don’t. If I put a date on it, and she didn’t call. . well, I guess I don’t want to think about how I’d feel the day after that.”

Angel set the picture on Jack’s desk. “She’s a lucky girl. I mean woman. She may not know it, but she’s lucky.”

Jack didn’t say anything.

“I guess I’ve spent a lot of time not being lucky,” Angel said. “I guess in a lot of ways it’s my own fault.”

Jack said, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Oh, I think I’m way past due being hard on myself.” Angel sipped her coffee. “Let me tell you about me and Tony Katt. .

Angel thought pink ladies were the prettiest cocktail going. She loved the thickness of the drink and the way the taste of gin and cream and grenadine lingered on her tongue.

The gin warmed her inside and made her glow outside. Angel was usually kind of nervous, actually. She didn’t have a whole lot of self-confidence, and she knew it. Oh, she acted tough enough. Hell, she had a rattlesnake tattoo and a closet filled with black clothes, and having those things made it easier to act like she actually was the way she wanted to be.

But Angel knew the difference between acting tough and being tough. You could buy a tattoo. You could buy black clothes. But you couldn’t buy confidence.

That was why she took Spike everywhere she went. He made her feel better and gave her something she could talk about if things got uncomfortable. Spike was especially good at parties. Get a stranger talking about your cute little dog and you wouldn’t have to talk about yourself at all.

But back to the pink ladies. The pretty pink color, the taste, the warm glow-that was all good. But the best part came when a guy asked her if he could get her a drink. Tell a guy you wanted a pink lady, and he kind of looked at you in a different way. Angel really believed that was true.

And that was the first thing Tony Katt asked her. “Can I get you a drink?”

Angel said, “A pink lady would be lovely.”

“How about for your dog?”

“Oh no, he’s driving.”

Ha ha ha ha. They had a real good laugh over that one. Tony went for the drink. He was gone for quite a while. The party was really slammed. A big New Year’s Eve deal at the Skull Island Hotel amp; Casino. Angel had lost track of all her friends at the celebrity wingding at the Mirage. Way too many mellow LA rockers at that one for her taste, so she’d cut out on her own.

Along the way she had a couple more pink ladies. And now the heavyweight champion of the world was getting her another. She couldn’t fucking believe it.

She waited for Tony to return. God, he was the heavyweight champion of the world. And in a room filled with women who would probably sit up and beg just to talk to him, he was getting a drink for Angel Gemignani.

Angel felt the glow. Suddenly she felt really pretty, which she usually didn’t. But right now she knew that she was pretty, wearing a little sleeveless Versace number that was as black as sin.

The dress was very expensive. Anyone would look hot in it.

Image was everything. Image could cover up a lot.

And here came Tony with her drink, and he was staring at her. Like, right at the rattler tattoo.

“Watch out,” he said. “A buddy of mine gave me a serious warning about girls with snake tattoos.”

“Yeah,” she said, all throaty like Lauren Bacall. “You’d better watch out.”

Tony gave her biceps a little squeeze and she kind of laughed. “You’re Angel Gemignani, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, all surprised. She couldn’t believe that the heavyweight champion of the world knew who she was. “Angel,” he said. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Thanks.” Angel’s real name was Angela. But she hated it. Angela sounded so clunky.

“We’ve got a few mutual friends.” Tony ticked off five or six names, mostly guys Angel had dated at one time or another, a couple girlfriends, too. “Vegas is really a small town, isn’t it?” He took her hand and kissed it. “I’m surprised we haven’t met before.” He held her fingers in his. “By the way, my name is Tony Katt.”

“Like I don’t know who you are.” Angel didn’t know what else to say.

But that was okay because Tony did. He could really talk. He sounded like he’d been to college and then some. He sure didn’t sound like a guy who’d come out of a state prison in California.

But Angel knew that Tony had done just that. She’d seen him win the heavyweight championship. Grandpa Freddy was a big boxing fan. He went to all the fights. He took Angel to see that one.

She remembered watching Tony in the ring that night. She remembered his muscles, and his tattoos, and the way he looked so tough, so. . confident.

But he didn’t seem egotistical at all. Not now. Not like he did on TV. Maybe that was all an act, because he seemed really nice.

They danced a little, but it was hard to hold Spike and dance at the same time. Tony got Angel another pink lady. She didn’t really want another drink. She barely sipped it. Tony set Spike on his lap and started petting him. He talked and talked.

But then Tony started glancing at his watch, and she couldn’t help but notice that.

“Sorry,” he said finally. “I realize that it’s terribly rude of me. But I’m supposed to meet my fiancee at another party before midnight. And it’s almost eleven now.”

“Oh,” Angel said. She didn’t know what else to say, because she had started to think that. . well, maybe.. but if Tony had a fiancee and-

“Hey,” Tony said. “Why don’t you join us?”

Angel wasn’t sure. Tony seemed like a really nice guy. But going off with him when they’d just met-

“I’m sure my fiancee would love to meet you,” Tony said. “Her name is Porschia Keyes. She’s a dancer here at Skull Island.”

That was different. If Tony’s fiancee was going to be at the party-

“It’s mostly a celebrity crowd. Nothing but fun people. So you know you qualify on both counts.”

Angel felt that glow. He really did like her.

“C’mon,” he coaxed. “It’ll be fun. Really.”

“Sure.” She rubbed the rattlesnake tattoo like it was Aladdin’s lamp. “Why the hell not. I’m always up for fun.”

New Year’s Eve on the Las Vegas Strip was really slammed. No way you could drive anywhere. Still, Angel was really surprised when Tony took her to the roof of the hotel, where they boarded a Skull Island corporate helicopter.

They flew above the lights of Vegas. It was really special. All those people partying down on the Strip. Soon they were over a neighborhood Angel didn’t recognize. A golf course surrounded by super-nice houses. Mansions, really.

The chopper hovered lower, passing over the roof of a mansion. Angel was kind of surprised. It didn’t look like there was a party here. Only two cars were parked in the driveway.

Angel was a little worried. Her Versace dress was riding up, and she pulled it low on her thighs. As low as it would go, anyway.

“Is this the right place?” she asked.

“This is my house,” Tony said. “I need to pick up a few Christmas gifts that I haven’t had a chance to deliver. Then we’ll drive over in my car. The party isn’t far.”

The chopper touched down on the golf course next to the house. Tony opened the door and stepped out before Angel could say a word.

He offered her his hand.

Just like a real gentleman.

The Christmas tree that stood in the domed living room was nearly twenty feet high. Angel stared at the twinkling white lights and decorations, cradling Spike in her arms. She wished Tony would hurry up. It was almost midnight. Even if they left his place right now, they would probably be late for the party. Angel was worried about that. Tony’s fiancee would be really mad. She’d probably take it out on him, but she might take it out on Angel.

Either way, Angel didn’t want to be with a bunch of strangers right now. But how could she get back to the Strip? The chopper was long gone. .

Maybe Tony would call a cab for her. She’d say that the pink ladies were hitting her a little too hard, and that she wasn’t feeling especially well. .

No. That wouldn’t work, either. The Strip was jammed with people. Getting to the Casbah by cab would be impossible. Tony knew that as well as she did. No way she could get back home until-

A pair of strong arms encircled her from behind.

“Tony. Hey. . Tony. Don’t.”

Tony didn’t listen. He pulled Angel against his belly, and she was so surprised that she nearly dropped Spike.

“Tony. . stop!”

His hand was under her dress, between her legs and- “Surprise, surprise,” Tony said. “The Tiger didn’t figure you for the panty-wearing type, bitch.”

“No!” Angel shouted, and Spike jumped from her arms.

She spun away from Tony. He let her go. She gasped for breath. Spike was over by the Christmas tree. In a second she’d pick him up and head for the door-

Tony was wearing a black silk robe. Nothing else. He let the robe fall open. “You might as well get down on the floor and spread your legs, Angel. It’ll go a lot easier that way.”

She was still a little drunk. She tried to think logically. She said, “But your fiancee. . the party-”

“There is no party. Except for the one we’re having here.” He smiled. “I do have a fiancee, though. I didn’t lie about that. The bitch walked out on me last night. It’s not the first time she’s done it, and it won’t be the last.”

Angel backed toward the Christmas tree. “You know who I am. You know who my grandfather is. If he finds out about this-”

“He won’t find out.” Tony slipped off his robe and followed her. “You won’t tell him. Just think how it would sound: Grandpa, I got drunk with the heavyweight champ on New Year’s Eve. You know, the jailbird with all the tattoos. I let him take me home. And then he-”

“Stop it. Just stop it.”

But Tony didn’t stop at all. He grabbed her and tossed her against the wall. She had nowhere to run. And then his hand closed around her throat.

“Stop it, Angel,” he said. “Stop acting so innocent. Everyone in town knows your game. Those guys I mentioned. . they told me all about you. Even your girlfriends are wise to you. You’re a little starfucker.”

“No. . I’m not-”

“Come off it. I’ve been in the best bars in Las Vegas, honey. And I’ve seen your name written on the restroom wall in every damn one of ’em.”

“That’s not true.”

Tony smiled a really awful smile. “Tell me it’s not.”

His hand slid under her dress. Angel slammed her fists against his chest, but he only laughed and shoved her back against the wall.

Spike scampered around his ankles, barking. He kicked the dog away. Then he came at Angel again.

The point of her shoe smacked his shin and he grunted. He slapped her and called her a bitch. She slapped him back and then he caught her hand and turned her around and suddenly she was on the floor, her face buried in the thick shag carpet, and Spike was barking again and Tony’s hands were between her legs and he roughly parted her thighs.

“No!” she screamed. “No!”

Tony laughed. Spike growled. .

. . and then Tony screamed.

Suddenly he was off her. Angel rolled over fast and gained her feet.

Tony lay on the white carpet.

Spike was between his legs.

There was a lot of blood.

“Spike!” Angel shouted. “Spike. . no!”

Spike ran to her side. She scooped him up and stumbled to the door and didn’t look back. As she ran down the driveway, she heard Tony Katt’s screams.

The cool night breeze cut through her Versace dress as she hurried down the street. Gunfire exploded behind her. She ducked into some oleander bushes, clutching Spike to her breasts.

Not gunfire. Firecrackers. It was New Year’s Eve. It was midnight. All over Las Vegas, women were kissing men that they loved. And here she was, cold and shivering, hiding in some stranger’s oleander bushes, hoping that no one would see her at all.

When it was quiet, Angel started down the street. Spike whined in her arms, but she wouldn’t set him on the ground. She was afraid that he might run off.

There were no pay phones in a neighborhood like this one. Angel had to keep walking, even if she had no idea where she was. Every time a car approached, she found a place to hide.

She didn’t know how badly Tony was hurt. She was afraid that he would come looking for her. And Spike.

Finally, Angel found a way onto the golf course. She wandered toward a building that turned out to be the pro shop. She was circling it, looking for a pay phone, when a security guard stopped her.

He took her to an office. Angel paid him fifty dollars for one phone call and another fifty to forget the whole thing.

Angel phoned a girlfriend who agreed to pick her up as soon as the traffic died down. Then she sat in the office and waited, petting Spike. The guard didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The way he looked at her said it all.

When her friend arrived a few hours later, Angel left as quickly as she could.

The guard stuffed two fifties into his pocket and laughed at the girl in the little black dress as she crossed the parking lot, clutching a dog to her bosom like it was a baby.

“You two have a Happy New Year,” he yelled.

“The guy who drove the limo is an ex-con from California,” Jack said. “His name is Harold Ticks, and he did time in Corcoran State Prison with Tony Katt.”

“They’re after more than money. If Tony Katt’s involved in this, he wants revenge.”

“Maybe. But we don’t know that for sure. Maybe the money is the revenge.”

“I don’t think so, Jack. One of the kidnappers phoned me. . probably this guy Harold Ticks. He said that I was going to deliver the ransom, alone. He said if I didn’t come alone. Spike would end up dead. He’s supposed to call back with the details later today.” She shook her head. “The guy wants me to get the money from a safe-deposit box Granddad set up for me a couple years ago. But if they want me to deliver the ransom. . well, then I think they want me as much as they want the money.”

Jack nodded. “The thing with Tony Katt. . you never told Freddy what happened?”

“He’s my grandfather, Jack. I couldn’t tell him about it. Freddy Gemignani is the kind of man who thinks there are two kinds of women in the world-those with rings on their fingers and whores. He wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he would. Maybe you owe him that chance.”

“No. I’m not telling my grandfather anything. It was hard enough to tell you.” Angel rose from the couch and carried her empty coffee cup to the kitchen. “There’s got to be another way.”

Jack sipped cold coffee. Angel was right about one thing. It was hard for her to tell him about Tony Katt. But it was harder for her to talk about herself-the private things she kept inside and the insecurities she never revealed to anyone.

Jack knew that, because he’d heard Angel’s voice tremble when she spoke the word that cut her to the bone.

“Starfucker.”

That word wasn’t important to Jack Baddalach. He wasn’t going to judge Angel Gemignani’s past. Only Angel could do that.

But no matter what Angel had done in the past, she didn’t deserve Tony Katt.

No woman deserved Tony Katt.

“What do you think we should do?” Angel asked.

Jack told her. It was kind of involved, but none of it mattered.

When the phone rang a second later, everything changed.

The voice on the other end of the line was cold as ice cream but twice as sweet. Jack recognized it right away.

He said, “You’re the one with the wrist braces, right?”

“That’s right, Jack. I never thought I’d be talking to you again. How’d you handle that rattler, anyway?”

“I ate it.”

She laughed. “Well, I guess I don’t want to tangle with you. . or maybe I do.”

“Yeah. . right. . how’s the Chihuahua?”

“Sick. That’s why I’m calling.”

“Look, if Spike needs a vet-”

“We’re way ahead of you, Jack.”

“You’ve got a vet?”

“Yes, we do,” she said, “and he’s in Las Vegas. In fact. Spike’s in for an office visit even as we speak. Want the address?”

“Sure.” Jack laughed. “But first I’d like to know why you’d give it to me when I haven’t given you half a million bucks.”

“Because there’s trouble in paradise, Jack.”

“Huh?”

“Look,” she said, “do you want your Chihuahua back or not?”

“Sure I do, but-”

“Then get a pencil. Here’s the address. .”

Jack slipped the Colt Python into his shoulder holster.

“This is all pretty complicated for a guy who’s used to getting hit in the head for a living,” he said. “But I’d better check it out, anyway.”

“You’re not going alone.”

“Yes, I am. Listen, Angel, these nuts kidnapping your dog is bad enough. If they snatch you, Freddy will kill me.”

“One thing I decided after my night with Tony Katt- nobody’s going to make me do anything I don’t want to do. And I don’t want to sit around waiting to see if some refugee from a Russ Meyer movie ambushes you or not.”

“Angel, these people. . they’re nuts."

“So is Tony Katt. And I handled him, didn’t I?”

Jack laughed. “Well, you had some help. If I remember the story right, it was Spike who chewed on Tony’s balls.”

“That’s right.” Angel slipped her.45 out of her purse. “And now Spike is in trouble. Which means that it’s time for me to return the favor.”

Jack wanted to argue the point.

But he didn’t know how.