Authors: Cynthia Hampton
“All I’m saying is we both had a lot of things wrong.”
Sipping her water, Silver considered what to do. If she went, it would be like admitting that she still cared, which she did. If she didn’t go, it would be a direct slight to the Rivers family. And she had no reason to slight them, especially Connie. She looked up to see Becky watching her.
“For once in your life, don’t listen to your head. What does your heart say to do?” her friend asked.
As Silver opened her mouth to answer, a loud pounding on the front door startled both women. After turning off the stove, Becky ran to the peephole then turned back to Silver.
“It’s Sam Fletcher!” she whispered loudly.
“Justin’s old manager?” Silver asked in surprise.
More pounding accompanied a loud, drunken voice. “Open up, you job stealing tramp!”
“Get lost, Sam,” Becky called out through the closed door, then frowned. “How does he know where I live?”
In answer to her suggestion, the pounding continued. Becky walked over to a coat closet, reached inside and pulled out a double-barreled shotgun.
“Becky!” Silver squealed. “What are you going to do with that?”
“I’m going to introduce our friend out there to Molly.”
The weapon had been given to Becky by her father when she was twelve years old, and she’d named the shotgun with the first thing that came to mind. He’d spent weeks teaching her how to shoot, giving her safety lessons, and instructing her on the proper way to clean the gun. Silver never went to the gun range with her. What sane person likes getting bruises on their shoulder just to hear a long piece of metal named Molly make earsplitting noise?
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“One way to find out.”
Becky cracked the door with the chain lock on while Silver hovered behind her. Sam stood there, swaying back and forth, rage contorting his face. His dirty hair hung limply around his unshaven face, and his hands were fisted at his sides. The smell of stale beer and old sweat wafted through the opening.
“I’m not leavin’ until you let me in,” he slurred.
Becky snorted. “That makes no sense, you idiot. I let you inside, then you leave? Get out of here before I call the police.” She turned and mouthed to Silver: “Call 9-1-1.”
He wiggled his hands sarcastically. “Ooh, I’m so scared. Big words from the backstabber that took my job.” Before she and Becky could react, he shoved the door, ripping off the chain. Becky fell to the floor, pushing Silver back and dropping the gun. When Sam stomped into the apartment, Silver reached for the gun and raised it to her shoulder, pointing it at him. She hadn’t gone to target practice, but she’d watched enough movies. She hoped.
“Sam, meet Molly, the best shotgun in Tulsa. Want her to say hello?”
“You don’t scare me with your big gun or your big friends. You need to pay for the way you ruined my life. You and that bimbo reporter friend of yours. Both you women are life wreckers.”
“How long have you been drinking?” Silver asked.
“Dunno. A few days, maybe. Why?”
“You think Silver and I are to blame for all your troubles?” Becky chimed in as she got to her feet.
“No doubt in my mind. I lost everything, all because of you!”
Silver gasped. “You lost everything? What about me?”
Becky nodded as if agreeing with him. “You’re right, Sam.”
“Huh?” Had her friend gone nuts?
Becky reached out with one hand and took the gun. “I say we sit down, have a beer, and let you say everything you want to say to me. Hey, Sil, grab a few beers and bring them in for Sam.” Then she mouthed it again: “Call 9-1-1.”
He stumbled a bit to the right. “That’s right. A beer would help me get it all out in the open.”
When Silver didn’t move, Becky motioned with her head toward the kitchen. Silver left the room, punching buttons on her phone as she went. She grabbed the beers and ran back to her friend.
“Come on in, Sam, and have a seat,” Becky said loudly. “You know, as a reporter, I think there are several newspapers out there that would like to hear your story. Let me get my phone so I can record our interview.” She walked over to the green desk and grabbed her phone with one hand, still carrying Molly.
Plopping down in a chair, Sam belched loudly. “I’m pissed at you. People need to know what a life wrecker you are.”
Sitting down in another chair, Becky propped the shotgun against the right side. “Life wrecker. Is that one word or two?”
He looked at her like she was stupid. “It’s one word. L-i-f-r-e-k-e-r.”
“Got it. Thanks. Now, what do you want to say to your readers?”
Silver came back with the beers and handed one to Sam, who sneered at her. “You sure got what you had comin’ to you.”
“That’s right, she did,” Becky said. “Can I quote you on that?”
“You sure as hell can. And I’ll tell you somethin’ else, there’s no way that Rustin Jivers is gonna make anythin’ of himself.” He took a long draw on the beer and belched again. “I tried to make him a star. He should’ve listened to me.” He pointed at Silver. “Then you had to come along and almost ruin everything…”
“Me?” Silver said. “But you’re the one who almost ruined him and the one who put the photographer up to hiding in my closet.”
“You’re damn right I did. Me…Sam Fletcher. I knew the press would pay big bucks for those shots, but he wouldn’t have been ruined on account of them. People love a scandal. Look at the Kardashians!”
Becky laid her hand nonchalantly on the arm of the chair close to Molly, and Silver tried to keep his attention diverted. “Sam, I’m impressed,” she said. “It takes hard work to put a plan like that together.”
Squinting at her, the man set his beer down on the floor and stumbled to his feet. “I don’t care what you think. All I want to do is make you pay. Make both of you
pay.” Pulling a switchblade out of his pocket, he lazily flipped it a few times until it opened, then he took a drunken step toward her. “I’m tired of you getting’ the best of me. All my life I been treated me like crap. I’m gonna enjoy this.”
As Silver stepped back, Becky jumped up, grabbing Molly with her right hand. She swung the gun up and knocked Sam’s wrist, causing the knife to fall with a clatter to the floor. Sam wobbled and lunged at Becky, grabbing the barrel of the rifle and knocking her off balance. They both crashed against a small wooden table, which fell under their weight, scattering pictures and stacks of mail.
Silver yanked a mirror off the wall and smashed it over Sam, shattering the glass. Grabbing the mirror frame, she forced it down over Sam’s shoulders, effectively pinning Sam’s arms to his sides. He struggled for a minute, but the frame held him prisoner.
Becky scrambled up from the broken table and leveled her gun at Sam. “Freeze, slime ball.”
Grabbing a nearby pot of daisies, Silver smashed it down on top of Sam’s head. The pot exploded, spewing potting soil and flower pieces all over the small room. With a groan, Sam toppled sideways, landing with a crash.
“Are you all right?” Silver cried to Becky.
“I think so.” Becky nodded, still keeping Molly pointed at Sam. “What about him?”
Silver knelt, meaning to check Sam for a pulse, but then drew away. “He’s breathing. In fact, I think he’s snoring.”
“What a creep,” Becky said as sirens sounded in the distance. “What did Justin ever see in him as a manager anyway?”
Silver stood and plucked a daisy off Becky’s head as she laughed. “I have no idea.”
Chapter Fourteen
Justin cringed as Dani Bailey walked into the law firm’s conference room. She had obviously tried to tone down the gaudiness by wearing a white dress that was only a few inches above her knee and a little black jacket. Her attempt at fashion fell short when he noted that the dress was nearly see-through and her green polka-dotted underwear said hello
in a loud way. But at least the green stripe in her hair and the green plastic jewelry matched the dots. He’d give her that much.
“Hey, sugar, what’s shaking today? Let’s get this show on the road!” She sashayed over to him and tried to sit on his lap, but he guided her to a chair next to him.
“Yes, Dani, that is exactly what we’re going to do. Get this show on the road. You ready for that?” he asked.
“Why, of course, you big lug. Smile!” She held up her phone to do a selfie with him. “Now, where do we start?”
Robert Sullivan sat down on Dani’s other side and opened a file full of papers in front of her. While she read the papers, Justin moved to the other side of the table.
Robert cleared his throat. “What we have here, Miss Bailey…”
“That’s Mrs. Rivers to you,” she said in a huff.
“Uh…” Robert appeared flustered a moment, then gave her a winning smile. “We should really get to know each other, since I’m one of the attorneys for the Rivers family. I’m Robert Sullivan. May I call you Dani?”
Her face lit up like Christmas morning. “Sugar, you can call me Cherry Pie if it makes you feel better.”
When she started laughing in her nasal tone, Justin’s hands clenched under the table. The attorney turned back to Dani, his face a composed mask.
“All right, Dani,” he said, scooting closer with a smile. “Now, I have some papers that I need you to sign today. It won’t take long to get these fussy details out of the way. You know how families are. All the Is have to be dotted, and the Ts crossed.”
“Oh, I know, Bobby. Now what do we have here?”
“It’s Robert.” Robert handed her a pen. “The usual important documents for these situations.”
“Are these bank signature slips? Credit card forms? Permission for me to draw on our bank account? I really have been patient about that little thing.”
The pages had markers showing her where to sign, so Justin hoped this would be over quickly, without any mess. No need to drag out the big guns if it wasn’t necessary. Clean and simple would make this all go away.
“These are the final papers, Dani, to make this all go away.”
But, of course, that was too much to hope for, wasn’t it?
“Hold on one minute,” Dani said through tight lips. “I may not be the sharpest crayon in the drawer, but I can read. These papers say that I am not married to Justin Rivers.” When she pouted, her lips reminded him of an ugly catfish his dad had caught once in Grand Lake. “Why in the world would I sign these papers when they’re nothing but lies?” She reached into her purse and took out a worn sheet of paper. “This is our marriage certificate from the Chapel of Bliss.”
“Chapel of Bliss? Justin, you didn’t tell me you had a valid certificate of marriage.” Robert held out his hand. “We need to get to the bottom of this right away because it could change everything. Is this a copy, Dani?”
“Oh, no, Bobby, that is the one and only original.”
“Good, good. Kamber, have this checked immediately,” Robert said as he handed the piece of paper to an associate standing on his other side. “Now, if you will sign these, please?”
Dani’s narrowed her eyes at Justin. “I’m not signing anything. We’re married and I want what’s coming to me.”
Time for the big guns. “I think that’s a good idea. Robert?”
Robert stood and opened the door to the conference room. Two Las Vegas police officers entered and stood behind Dani. Looking behind her, she whipped around her head. “What is this?”
“Justin is giving you what you asked for…Betty.” The attorney paused. “Or is it Belinda? What’s the newest name you’re using besides Dani Bailey?”
Justin had the profound pleasure of seeing his “wife” go as still as a statue. She looked around the room as if for an emergency exit.
“Don’t think of running. You will sign those papers, or I’ll be forced to hand you over to these officers.”
Dani licked her lips and stared at him. He knew the exact moment she hit on an idea when her eyes glinted sharply. “Why, baby, don’t you remember what you said to me that night? ‘I’ll give you anything if you’ll marry me. I’ll even give you my solid gold guitar.’”
Startled, Justin shook his head. “I’d never promise something like that to you! The guitar has special meaning to me.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him. “How else would I know about it unless you offered it? If you really want me gone, you’ll give me that gold guitar.”
“Dani, not that! Please?” Justin pleaded while he gripped his fingers under the table.
“That’s exactly what I deserve after all these shenanigans. In fact, Bobby, I think I should file charges against Mr. Rivers here.”
“Uh…it’s Robert. What charges do you want to file?” the attorney asked with a quick glance to Justin.
“I don’t know. Something like failure to provide for me. That’s your job to think that up.”
“Dani, as much as I would enjoy representing and trying to find some sort of penalty to levy against Mr. Rivers, it would be a conflict of interest. I believe I did mention that I am his attorney.”
“Well then, you move your fancy behind over to his side of the table.”
“After you sign these papers, I’ll be happy to do that.”
She lifted her chin. “First, the solid gold guitar.”
Robert raised an eyebrow at Justin who nodded.
“She’s right. I do have a gold guitar. There’s no way she could know about it unless I mentioned it.”
“If you promised her the guitar, then perhaps you should give it to her. Married or not, it was a promise and could be seen as a…uh…breach of mutual…contract
persona non grata
.”
Everyone in the room jumped when Dani slammed her palm loudly on the table. “That’s what I meant. Breach of personal grass something or other. Good one, Bobby.”
Robert started to protest the nickname, then let it go.
Justin took his time. He shook his head and mumbled a few syllables, then slowly stood up. Putting his hands on the table, he leaned forward, grimacing at Dani with great pain.
“Is there nothing else you’ll take? The solid gold guitar is the only thing you want? How about a nice compact car? Maybe a couple of airline tickets to Niagara Falls for your next husband?”
Smiling, Dani tapped an orange lacquered fingernail on the table in front of her. “I want you to get that guitar and put it right in front of me. That’s all I want and I’m not signing anything until I get it.”