P.J. Morse - Clancy Parker 02 - Exile on Slain Street (23 page)

“Thank you, darling. You’re an angel. Now, what have you seen?”

“Nothing with the murders, but boy oh boy Andi is jealous of you. She thinks you’re Patrick’s favorite, so she’s been asking me to speak with Faunus on her behalf.”

“Faunus?”

“King of the forest,” Muriel said. “I think you know him.”

Then I heard another grunt. “Hey, Clancy!” Shane said. “Turn around!”

I had a brief glimpse of Shane, who had gone whole hog with the woods scenario. He was wearing camouflage gear and had managed to grow a beard. “Don’t get shot by some hunter,” I warned.

“I pissed off Lars Ulrich,” he said.

“What? Lars Ulrich? Metallica Lars Ulrich? What have you been doing?” Although they had helped gather information, little detective work had been done.

“Heh. He was at the house next door, at some party. I started hooting at him, and he told me to get out of his face. I was this close to Lars Ulrich!”

That explained all the yelling the night Dawn fell down the stairs, and the fact that they hadn’t seen anything. I wasn’t sure who to be mad at — Shane or Lars Ulrich. But I set it aside. I needed an information dump, in a hurry. “Just tell me what you know about the show: the crew, the women, whatever.”

Shane replied, “Lorelai bakes a lot of brownies, and Andi shares them with me. Lorelai’s always cleaning up stuff. Like, I think she has OCD. Topaz spends hours in the bathroom — bite not as big as the bark — Cookie was sleeping with that beefy guy with the ear plugs in the cabana — ”

“Wolf?”

“Yeah, that dude,” Muriel said. “I can’t hear all the conversations, but I sure can see through the windows. Big boy forgot to pull the curtains shut a couple times. You guys are friends, right? You think you can talk her into teaching me stuff? She’s an acrobat!”

I was floored at that news. It was one thing for Cookie to say that she was starting to get interested in Wolf, but it was another to act on it while she was supposed to be competing for Patrick. “Wait. She was sleeping with Wolf? Are you sure?”

“Does a Muriel shit in the woods?” she asked.

“Oh, please tell me you haven’t gone that far with this forest thing,” I groaned. Wayne started cracking up.

“Nah. I made friends with this film producer a few houses down. He lets me use his bathroom. He wants to do a documentary on me when all this is over. I told him I was an eco-activist.”

“Don’t forget the pictures,” Shane said.

“What pictures?” I asked.

The trees rustled, and I could see Muriel’s hand holding a photograph. She had painted her nails camouflage. I took the picture out of her hand.

It was a photo of a man in his late 30s or early 40s, standing on a beach in front of the ocean. Since the sun was bright, he was squinting. Like Patrick, he had a shaved head, but the resemblance stopped there. He seemed familiar somehow, but I couldn’t figure it out.

“You know him?” Muriel asked.

“I don’t,” I replied.

Wayne looked surprised. “There’s several photos of him in the woods. A bunch of them nailed to a tree. They’re not all that different. Same guy, same day, same place. Looks like Venice Beach to me.”

“Can you guys find out who he is? I have no idea.” I passed the photo back to Muriel’s waiting hand.

Then I heard another rustling. Shane said, “Oh — gotta go — your camera crew…”

And, with that, the king and queen of the forest disappeared to join the other cute little creatures of the night.

Once Muriel and Shane vanished, Wayne yelped, “Hold up your side of the shirt!”

I grasped the corner, and Wayne fished another joint out of his pocket right when Tortoise yanked down the bowling shirt. “Where’s the audio?” he barked. Then he saw the joint and smiled. I had to give Wayne credit for that one.

Wayne stammered, “Uh, we didn’t have enough to go around. We can try to share, though, if it’s just you.”

Tortoise couldn’t take his eyes off the joint. I chuckled, “It’s stressful around here, you know…”

Tortoise sighed. “Lemme have a puff off that, then put your audio on, and I’ll forget it ever happened.”

Wayne reached in his other pocket and pulled out a lighter. “I don’t want to get this girl over here in trouble.”

“Nah. I think you guys are safe tonight.” Tortoise drew in the smoke from the joint and held his breath. “Ahhh…” Then he started giggling. I was worried that he was going to bogart the joint, which would have upset Wayne, but he passed it over.

Once Tortoise started to relax, he said, “Yeah. Patrick’s cool with you guys.” He let Wayne take a hit. “But Lorelai’s got it in the bag. I saw her coming out of Patrick’s room this morning.”

“What?” After the off-camera attention Patrick had been giving me, I didn’t like the sound of that at all.

Tortoise took another turn and attempted to pass the joint to me, but I declined. He looked shocked that anyone would turn down such a blessing. “Something wrong?”

“No.” I shook my head quickly, but I could see Patrick by the pool, clinking champagne glasses with Lorelai while Tad sulked off to the side.

“You lie!” Tortoise waved his finger in my face. Then he threw his arm around Wayne. “Don’t you waste your time on Patrick, honey. You stick with this guy!” He hugged Wayne hard. “He’s a sharer, and a carer!” He and Wayne began to sway together as Tortoise hummed Neil Young’s “Roll Another Number For the Road.”

“Jealous! I am so jealous!” Hare yelled, off in the distance.

For a moment, I thought those words sprang from my own mouth against my will, but I turned my head to see Hare running up at the slightest whiff of weed. “Y’all suck!” he shouted. “Lemme have some! C’mon, man!”

“Respect your elder!” Tortoise yelled.

“Not if my elder is selfish!” Hare yelled back. “Gimme!”

Wayne tried to pass the joint to Hare, but then we saw Greg coming, so we all began waving our hands to disperse the smell. “Stupid mosquitoes!” I shrieked, and I slapped myself on the arms for added effect.

“Yeah, stupid! Stupid bugs!” Hare contorted himself, following my lead. “Gnats!”

Greg didn’t even notice our lame attempts at a cover-up. His eyes were red-rimmed, and it wasn’t because of drugs. Tina got what she wanted — extended time on the show, all at Greg’s expense. She had no interest in him beyond that. At the moment, after finding out that Lorelai had been in Patrick’s room, I could understand how he felt. “We need you guys now,” he sighed.

“And I could use some food!” Wayne yelled as he tried to stamp out what was left of the joint. “I need some absorbency after the bowling alley!”

“Oh, yeah.” I added. “He’s a musician, you know. Free food.”

While Greg gave Tortoise some instructions, Hare guided us over to the cocktail party. MC Sizzler was already piling his plate with egg rolls. Topaz swatted him and said, “Would you stop eating like a pig? Close your mouth at least! You’re embarrassing!”

Patrick stepped up to mingle and interview the exes. He asked Topaz, “Is that why you didn’t work out?” Meanwhile, Hare zoomed in on the plate of egg rolls.

Topaz rolled her eyes. “That and the fact that he’s a mooch.”

His mouth full, MC Sizzler replied, “You’re a nag.”

“Well, at least I don’t have to worry that you’re not over him.” Then Patrick turned to me and Wayne. “What about you two?”

I hoped and hoped that Wayne wouldn’t call me “Clancy” once he got high again. But he was smart. He pointed and said, “This girl over here, heart of gold. I just can’t keep it in my pants.” He promptly leered at Topaz. I was impressed.

Patrick seemed taken aback. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

“Well, Patrick, I’m a musician, you’re a musician. You know how it is!” Wayne reached for an egg roll and brushed up against Topaz’s arm.

“Get this redneck away from me,” Topaz said, backing up. “Do I look like a redneck magnet?”

Wayne was enjoying this. “This girl over here—” apparently Wayne’s go-to name for me “—is one of my best friends. But you, you, are
meow
! You can dominate me anytime!”

“Dammit! Sizzler, help me here!” Topaz shouted.

Sizzler popped another egg roll into his mouth and attempted to talk. I thought I heard, “You ain’t my problem now, baby! You wanted to go on this thing.”

She gave Sizzler a look that would have killed a more-cowardly man. Then she flipped her weave over her shoulder and gave Patrick a long kiss. When she was finished, she turned and said to Sizzler, “In case you haven’t noticed, maturity is important.”

“If maturity is important, shouldn’t we all be sleeping with the action hero over there?” Wayne asked. By this point, Tina was feeding her ex pieces of shrimp cocktail, and he was feeding her cheese cubes off toothpicks. After watching her lick and eat them, I didn’t feel all that hungry.

Patrick laughed. “I like you, man!”

“I like you, too! You want some pot?” Wayne reached into the pocket of his corduroy blazer.

“Not here!” I yelled, pinching Wayne’s upper arm. Hard. “Bad! Bad Wayne!” That was usually how I interacted with him in real life when he went off the rails a bit, but he couldn’t stop giggling since it was on camera.

Patrick tried to get Greg’s attention, probably to find a way to sneak out for an off-camera joint, but Greg was too busy looking at Tina and her supposed “ex” to pay attention to what was said. Patrick shrugged and said, “Don’t worry — I’ll be spending some time with you guys later. We’ll, um, chat then.”

“Ah-ha! That’s the euphemism of the night! Chat, dude! C-H-A-T.” Wayne yelled.

Sizzler finally finished his food and pointed at Wayne’s blazer. “Hey, don’t leave me out!”

Topaz clung to Patrick. “Like I said, you are the only mature man in this whole place.”

“It’s a distinct possibility,” Patrick said. He looked at me like he expected me to nod, but I didn’t move at all. I was still gnawing over what Tortoise said about Lorelai leaving Patrick’s room.

Greg finally came back to life. “What?”

“Never mind,” Patrick said. Then he noticed Greg staring at Tina. “Something here I don’t know about?” he asked.

Greg shook his head. “No, nothing.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven:
Slap Happy

A
fter our exes, or fake exes, gorged on free food, Fred loaded them into the Hummer, and we prepared for elimination. We had trouble getting organized because, while Greg was there physically, he was checked out mentally. Even though he could edit the scene to create dramatic tension, we all knew where the story was going to go — Tina would be out of there.

Then again, everyone knew that except Tina. Tina got the memo that romances with reality-show stars weren’t real — and I had learned that the hard way — but romances with the producers were very much real, and the producers were the ones in charge. She might have been more successful had she actually tried to go after Patrick.

Patrick gave Lorelai the first locket, much to my chagrin. She was beginning to grate on my nerves more than Topaz and Tina ever did… perhaps because Patrick seemed to enjoy kissing her so much. I wondered if I would have been that mad at Dawn if she hadn’t fallen and Patrick had the chance to spend more time with her. Probably not. Unlike Lorelai, Dawn didn’t have an ounce of smugness in her body.

Topaz and Andi received their lockets next, which left me surprised. I’d never been in the bottom two, and I didn’t like being categorized with Tina, who was clearly interested in someone else. I couldn’t believe I even cared at all.

I tried to read the look on Tortoise’s face, and even he looked confused. He said I was going to stay. Maybe Patrick was going off-script. Greg wasn’t minding the store, and I didn’t envy whoever was going to be stuck editing this episode.

I’d always been clued in about how the elimination would go. Every single elimination was a given, either predetermined by the producers or established when a contestant self-eliminated,
a la
Cookie. What was this surprise for? And was Patrick trying to tell me something?

Then Patrick called Tina down. This strategy was classic — call down the ejectee, make her think she was going to get the clock/rose/widget/whatever, and then give her the boot. Or was he going to give me the boot? I didn’t have any producers on my side, so how was I going to know? I was a real competitor now.

Tina held her head high as she glided down the carpet. Then I wondered what I would do if I got kicked out. Could I hide out in the woods to make sure no one else died? And would it be enough?

Patrick took a breath.

I took a breath.

Even Tortoise took a breath.

Tina just smiled.

Then Patrick said, “Tina, you have some unfinished business, so this locket isn’t for you.”

She hauled off and slapped him in the face. Greg was smiling. He must have told her she was safe to create this kind of reaction.

As soon as the slap snapped Patrick’s head to the side, both Lorelai and Topaz jumped into the fray, racing all the way down the red carpet. In one fluid motion, Lorelai pinned Tina’s hands behind her back. So Tina started kicking, and Topaz wrapped her legs in a bear hug. “Stop making an ass of yourself!” she shouted.

Then Wolf rushed in and said, “I’ll take her.”

As Wolf dragged Tina away, she screamed at Greg, “I should have slept with Kevin, not you, loser!”

Greg’s face turned red, not with embarrassment, but with rage. He’d always been competing with Kevin for Tina. Kevin was dead, and Greg was still losing.

Then I looked at Lorelai and Topaz. Topaz was inspecting one of her gold-tipped nails, which had sustained damage in the fray. Lorelai folded her hands in front of her in an unusually ladylike fashion.

I remembered what Wolf said when I tried to convince him that I was the detective. He said he hired someone. Some
one
, as in singular. Not two. I looked from one to the other. They both had the nosy personalities and willingness to mix it up that would make them perfect for detectives… or unusually clever killers. Which one of them was on my side?

As for Greg, instead of engaging in a showdown with Tina, he manipulated the situation perfectly. The footage of Tina slapping Patrick was classic. It was destined to be in the promos, the previews and even the recaps. That kind of footage had the potential to end Tina’s career. Reality-show villains often wound up on other shows, but they rarely moved up the celebrity food chain.