“I’ll probably lose my job at the limo company after all of this. I missed a whole day’s worth of pickups, and I imagine they’ll find out about the arrest.”
“Yeah, man, sure. No problem. How much?”
“Two hundred?”
I pulled three hundred from my wallet and handed it to him.
“This is all I’ve got on me. Please get your shit together, dude,” I said.
“I’m trying, Blaine. I really am.”
He hugged me, and all I could think about was how this was my fault. If I hadn’t kissed Lisa, maybe she wouldn’t have left, and maybe he wouldn’t have gone to jail.
“Call me if you need anything,” I said, and walked into the hotel, totally drained. When I got to my room I fell on the bed and passed the fuck out.
Chapter 14
The phone woke me up.
“Hello?” I said.
“Mr. McKinnon? It’s Charles. I’m at the Belle Vue. Will you be joining me?”
“Oh, shit. Yeah. Sorry, Charles. Rough night. Rough day, actually. You mind waiting about thirty minutes while I get my shit together?”
“No problem. I’m here every Thursday anyway!”
“Okay, cool. See you in a bit.”
I couldn’t think of a goddamned thing Charles could tell me about Jay that would match what had happened that morning.
Boy was I wrong.
Walking into the Belle Vue Lounge, I was surprised by how low-key it was. A whitewashed wood bar with a polished granite top, surrounded by shelves filled with old games, books, and trinkets. There were plenty of private nooks and crannies, giving the place a bright but intimate olde-tyme feel. It suited Charles perfectly.
I saw him at the bar, drinking what looked to be Scotch, and the best thing was that he was still wearing his Greeter outfit, even though we were the only ones there aside from the bartender.
I pointed to the outfit, smirking.
“Have to keep up appearances while on stage!” he said cheerfully.
“You’re a dedicated man, Charles.”
“You got that right, Mr. McKinnon. This job is the love of my life.”
“Seems like you’re very good at it,” I said, leaning against the bar. “Speaking of which, I think you can drop the Mr. McKinnon crap when you’re not on duty. Just call me Blaine, okay?”
“Sounds fair to me, Blaine!” he said, beaming. “So what’ll you have, sire? I’m buying, and don’t even try to tell me differently.”
“I could desperately use a gin and tonic.”
The bartender nodded and poured one of the better gin and tonics I’d ever had. Half a Key lime, some sort of gourmet tonic water, Plymouth gin, and crushed ice. Definitely put me in a better mood.
“Let’s sit over here,” said Charles, motioning to two chairs and a table overlooking the balcony. “Gorgeous view at sunset.”
“Yeah, it’s nice,” I said. “Look, Charles, I think I pretty much know everything I need to about Jay Montgomery.”
“Oh?” said Charles. “And what do you think you know about our friend Jay?”
“I found some article from the Sentinel on Google. He got an inheritance when his dad died, his mom is in a nursing home, he collects Disney shit, he drives a limo… and he’s obviously dealing drugs.”
Charles nodded, smiling. “You’re right about the drugs, son, but the rest is just the same old yarns he’s been spinning for years. He’s trying to build up some mythology about himself because the reality would be much less appealing to his so-called fans.”
“Okay, I’m listening,” I said, dubious. Before this morning I probably wouldn’t have believed a damned thing Charles had to tell me, but now… I was a little more receptive.
“First of all, his father isn’t dead. He lives down in Tarpon Springs and takes care of his mother, who has Alzheimer’s.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. Then what about the inheritance? How’d he afford to buy all that stuff?”
“I’m getting to that. Anyway, he tells people his father is dead, but really his father disowned him when he left his first wife and their two
“Yeah, man, sure. No problem. How much?”
“Two hundred?”
I pulled three hundred from my wallet and handed it to him.
“This is all I’ve got on me. Please get your shit together, dude,” I said.
“I’m trying, Blaine. I really am.”
He hugged me, and all I could think about was how this was my fault. If I hadn’t kissed Lisa, maybe she wouldn’t have left, and maybe he wouldn’t have gone to jail.
“Call me if you need anything,” I said, and walked into the hotel, totally drained. When I got to my room I fell on the bed and passed the fuck out.
Chapter 14
The phone woke me up.
“Hello?” I said.
“Mr. McKinnon? It’s Charles. I’m at the Belle Vue. Will you be joining me?”
“Oh, shit. Yeah. Sorry, Charles. Rough night. Rough day, actually. You mind waiting about thirty minutes while I get my shit together?”
“No problem. I’m here every Thursday anyway!”
“Okay, cool. See you in a bit.”
I couldn’t think of a goddamned thing Charles could tell me about Jay that would match what had happened that morning.
Boy was I wrong.
Walking into the Belle Vue Lounge, I was surprised by how low-key it was. A whitewashed wood bar with a polished granite top, surrounded by shelves filled with old games, books, and trinkets. There were plenty of private nooks and crannies, giving the place a bright but intimate olde-tyme feel. It suited Charles perfectly.
I saw him at the bar, drinking what looked to be Scotch, and the best thing was that he was still wearing his Greeter outfit, even though we were the only ones there aside from the bartender.
I pointed to the outfit, smirking.
“Have to keep up appearances while on stage!” he said cheerfully.
“You’re a dedicated man, Charles.”
“You got that right, Mr. McKinnon. This job is the love of my life.”
“Seems like you’re very good at it,” I said, leaning against the bar. “Speaking of which, I think you can drop the Mr. McKinnon crap when you’re not on duty. Just call me Blaine, okay?”
“Sounds fair to me, Blaine!” he said, beaming. “So what’ll you have, sire? I’m buying, and don’t even try to tell me differently.”
“I could desperately use a gin and tonic.”
The bartender nodded and poured one of the better gin and tonics I’d ever had. Half a Key lime, some sort of gourmet tonic water, Plymouth gin, and crushed ice. Definitely put me in a better mood.
“Let’s sit over here,” said Charles, motioning to two chairs and a table overlooking the balcony. “Gorgeous view at sunset.”
“Yeah, it’s nice,” I said. “Look, Charles, I think I pretty much know everything I need to about Jay Montgomery.”
“Oh?” said Charles. “And what do you think you know about our friend Jay?”
“I found some article from the Sentinel on Google. He got an inheritance when his dad died, his mom is in a nursing home, he collects Disney shit, he drives a limo… and he’s obviously dealing drugs.”
Charles nodded, smiling. “You’re right about the drugs, son, but the rest is just the same old yarns he’s been spinning for years. He’s trying to build up some mythology about himself because the reality would be much less appealing to his so-called fans.”
“Okay, I’m listening,” I said, dubious. Before this morning I probably wouldn’t have believed a damned thing Charles had to tell me, but now… I was a little more receptive.
“First of all, his father isn’t dead. He lives down in Tarpon Springs and takes care of his mother, who has Alzheimer’s.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. Then what about the inheritance? How’d he afford to buy all that stuff?”
“I’m getting to that. Anyway, he tells people his father is dead, but really his father disowned him when he left his first wife and their two
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