CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
On the way to the office, Carlos and I had a chat.
“I know you and Paco talked to Spidery Voice. What did he say?”
“Spidery Voice? Why do you call him that?”
“When he told me to be quiet, his voice sounded like he had laryngitis or something. It’s was eerie.”
“His voice is odd. When he finally opened up, he told us that he’d been choked in a prison attack. He was in the infirmary for a couple of weeks and it damaged his vocal chords permanently. Surenos use him for times when they want to spook a target.”
“So he was really sent out for me. Who hired him?”
“He said two guys approached the Surenos for some one to do a grab, but that the grabber had to be frightening. They assigned Spidery Voice, whose street name is actually Voice, because he’s small and doesn’t look intimidating. Until you get up close and see the tear, but then it’s too late. He never saw the guys who hired him, he was just assigned.”
“Where does that leave us, then?”
“Oh, I’m sure it was the Huszars Voice was given a phone number and the name Matt to call when he had you safely tucked away, then he was going to hand you off. We checked the phone number; it’s a voicemail box that forwards messages. One of the forwarding numbers is in Hungary.”
“Did you let him go? What’s next?”
“We let him go. After meeting us, I don’t think the Surenos will take on a job for anyone from Hungary again.”
“My God, how badly did you hurt him?”
“Not bad. It was what we said, what we showed him, not what we did to him.”
I was silent. What did they show Voice? The gangs in L.A. were sure of themselves; this was home turf for the Crips, Bloods, Nortenous, Surenos and other Mexican Mafia groups. They beefed with each other and occasionally with the cops. I doubted they’d ever run into demons before.
Jazz had coffee, messages and notes ready when I walked in to my office, leaving Carlos to peel off to his cubicle.
“OK.” I took a sip of coffee. “What’s the book on the new SNAP girl, or girls.” I was pretty sure that Jazz had the inside track on rumor and she didn’t disappoint.
“The blond, the one without implants, will be offered an exploratory contract tomorrow for a shoot at Disneyland and three club appearances. What’s Anderson Cooper call them? ‘Show ups and throw ups?’ The two dark girls will get makeovers and a modeling contract for six months. They’ll be tracked for any other buzz generated, and then evaluated.”
I thought back to my talk with Jean-Louis last night about Jazz. She was too valuable at SNAP to jeopardize any need I may have for a friend or confidant. Regulars made up more than ninety percent of the worldwide staff at SNAP and I was one of the few employees who were expected to bridge the groups. Jazz’ ties to the L.A. gossip vine was a way to keep on top of things.
“Thanks. I know I can count on you to keep me in the loop.” I smiled at her. Today she wore a short, straight skirt and layered a long tee and an over-sized shirt. She looked young, hip and urban professional.
“Have you ever had a makeover?” I appraised her and watched for a reaction.
She shook her head. “No. I kind of hinted to your predecessor, but he didn’t take the hint.” She pursed her lips and shrugged.
“Well, you’re getting one now,” I announced and watched her eyes round with pleasure. “Find out when the two new girls are scheduled and I’ll make sure you get added. Also, how about a shopping trip?”
I had to do this carefully. I wanted to reward her for being so aware of my needs, but not so much that her perks were noticed and commented on. If she got eliminated from the rumor stream, it wouldn’t help me and it would hurt her.
“It’s a bonus for keeping things together while I’ve been away. You’ve done a super job and I’m grateful.”
“Thank you, Maxie!” she was enthralled. The pay and bennies at SNAP were above the industry standards and that tended to hire and keep top people even though the hours were long. Watching Jazz while she watched the shows, or looked at layouts of celebrities, though, made me realize that a little glamour could go a long way toward personal as well as brand loyalty.
My cell did its swooshing number and I saw Chaz’ ID. When I hit talk, he said, “I need to see you in my office at 5. And don’t make a note about it.”
Hoo, OK. That wasn’t his usual style, curt with an order. And in his office, to boot. Most meetings were more casual, gathering in my office or one of the small conference rooms, or even in the break room. This was the first time I’d gotten a demand for a formal appearance.
As I headed out, I waved at Jazz and just said, “I’ll be back in a bit.” She stopped typing and muttering in her earbud and watched me head through the cubicles to the elevators, her brow wrinkled. I usually told her chapter and book where I’d be and this was out of the ordinary.
The desks in front of Chaz’ office were empty. I wondered where the assistants were and whether Chaz didn’t want this summons remarked on or remembered. I tapped, opened the door to find Jean-Louis, Mira, Carola and Chaz on sofas, looking at me. Was I the guest of honor or the meal?
“Come in, Maxie,” Chaz waved at a chair. “We need to discuss something.”
I’d been nervous my first week or so at SNAP, but once I’d learned the ropes, I felt confident and could hold my own with anybody. This was different. It frightened me because I had no idea what was going on. Had the vampires gathered because I was being fired? Had I overstepped some boundary? Had I become a liability and was no longer an asset? I felt the blood draining from my face as I took a seat.
Suddenly, Jean-Louis smiled. “You look like we’re going to eat you! Relax. We just want to talk to you about this morning and tell you our ideas.”
Well, guess I wasn’t the main course, but I was sure going to be castigated for getting too far away from Carlos on the beach.
Chaz looked at me, his face somber. “We’ve been talking about this between ourselves and the Baron and we think you need to leave SNAP, at least for a bit.”
Leave SNAP? I was being fired. “I’m sorry about this morning; I thought it was safe in the daytime. It never crossed my mind that the Huszars would hire somebody, a gang member, to kidnap me!” I was horrified and started groveling. “I promise I won’t let it happen again; I’ll stay close to Carlos or Paco or whoever else is supposed to be guarding me. I won’t go anywhere without letting someone know!”
My outburst stunned them as though I’d flashed a crucifix.
“Maxie...,” Chaz began, Carola and Mira were making sounds and Jean-Louis said, “Love...” My head clamored with sounds and images. Losing my job meant losing my life. All I’d worked so hard for. My position, my condo, my independence, the travel, the glamour...I flashed on the irony that I’d just offered Jazz a small piece of the glamour, never realizing that I was losing mine. Suddenly, Jean-Louis’ voice echoed. He’d said, “Love...” Love, what?
I looked directly at him. “Did you say ‘love’?”
“I did.”
“What did that mean?”
“It meant I’d like to call you that.”
That brought me up faster than ice water in my face. “I’m not understanding any of this. Am I being fired, or not?’
Now it was Carola’s silvery laugh as she said, “You regulars always jump to absurd conclusions. Nobody said we were firing you. We’re trying to keep you, and us, safe and have a better way of doing it.”
Now Jean-Louis broke in. “Bringing in any of the L.A. gangs made this a different game. The Surenos won’t bother you again, Carlos and Paco made sure of that. But now we realize that you’re vulnerable to any idiot the Huszars pick off the street and offer money to. You can hire some tweaker or ex-con. Anonymous and untraceable. There are just too many desperate people here.”
“Do you mean here in L.A.?”
“I mean here in L.A. and here in the States,” he answered.
“This morning was lucky. It was foggy, not too many people around. The gangster told Carlos he’d watched you for a couple of days, waiting to get you without Carlos. He was getting frustrated when you suddenly came out and headed for the beach. He waited until you were a ways from Carlos then threw a ball for a stray dog. Of course he didn’t know that Carlos is a demon. And he didn’t know demons’ speed.”
“Beyond the actual danger,” Chaz continued, “There’s a huge exposure angle. Paparazzi don’t follow you all the time. Down side is, you never know where they’ll be there and when not. Gangsters don’t care, they’ll take somebody down anytime, but kidnapping...that’s trickier. To snatch you, they have to have a clear shot, not witnessed, and a clean get away. Except for Carlos, they had that this morning, and if he was just a regular bodyguard, you’d probably be with the Huszars now. There was an SUV idling along the street ready to go. When they saw Carlos, they were gone so fast he didn’t get a license.
“What there weren’t, this morning, were nosy neighbors. If somebody had seen you and called the police, how do you think we would’ve handled it? We could pass you off as being mugged on a morning jog, we could pass Carlos off as just a bodyguard, but it would open us up for scrutiny from all our competitors as well as mainstream media.”
That was why this meeting was so hush-hush and only the vampires. Anything else about SNAP or SNAP Holdings was open and transparent; vampire ownership wasn’t. So once again, they were concerned with themselves.
Jean-Louis was boring holes in me with his great hooded eyes. He wasn’t glimmering now, none of them were. “Don’t even say it,” Jean-Louis ordered.
“Say what?” An innocent act was my only defense.
“You were about to accuse us, me, of only caring for ourselves...leaving you out there as tiger bait. Pulling you out of L.A. isn’t firing you from SNAP. And my business and personal plans both agree with our decision.”
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