Heaven’s Gate
87 Shitstorm
Mary and baby John were recovering at home the next week when the next shitstorm hit the fan. A car I didn’t recognize careened into the drive Tuesday night and drove up onto the lawn near our back door. When I saw the headlights coming down the drive, I sent everyone in the house to the storm cellar—our safe room. I latched the back door and left by the front to circle around the house. From the corner, I could see the car door was open and no one was inside. Fuck! I had no idea who, how many, or how they were armed. I heard the rattle of the back door and then pounding. I came around the house far enough to get a clear view of the deck and saw Jessica pounding on the door and screaming. Then she sank to the deck and began wailing.
I leapt the railing and startled her as I wrapped her in my arms.
“You locked me out! You know! You know and you’ll never let me in,” she cried. Her breath reeked of booze. God knows what she’d been drinking or how much. I rocked her in my arms slightly, hoping to comfort her but not upset her stomach.
“Shh. It’s okay. We didn’t know it was you,” I whispered. I heard the bolt on the backdoor being drawn and light from inside flooded us.
“Bring her in,” Rose said. “Let’s take care of her.”
“What set her off?” Nikki asked succinctly. I shook my head. I had no idea. I’d never known Jessica to drink more than a glass of champagne. I carried her in the house.
“You shouldn’t have unlocked the door until I signaled,” I said.
“Courtney monitored the security cameras. I’m afraid Judy is probably on her way. We activated the panic button as soon as we got to the safe room,” Rose said. I took Jessica to the sofa and Liz set a bucket beside me.
“I think she’s going to need this,” Liz said.
“Probably. Could you call and see if Dinita or Cathy can come over?”
“Dinita’s on her way,” Elaine said. “I hate to run out, but I’ve got an early call tomorrow. I need to go sleep.” She kissed me lightly on the lips and stroked Jessica’s hair. Jessica was still sobbing and hadn’t been able to say anything. All I could tell was that she was drunk out of her mind. Then she pushed a rolled and wrinkled magazine into my chest. I stood and unfolded it while Dani took over comforting Jessica.
“What is it?” Rose asked. I opened Flesh Tones Magazine. The cover headline was “The Million Dollar Body Heaven Concealed.” The cover was a picture of Jessica topless, looking slightly to her right and smiling. It was almost like it was posed. It had to be a fake. Jessica would never have posed like that and she wouldn’t be so upset now if she had. She looked a lot younger.
Inside the magazine was a portfolio of nude and semi-nude shots that had obviously been taken over the course of her entire career. It was titled “A Private Collector’s Secret Album.” I couldn’t fathom Jessica ever allowing photos like this into the hands of even the most discreet private collector. She’d had so much at risk. But now it was all exposed. Literally. And they were definitely candid pictures of Heaven. I recognized a small mole that she’d had removed when she was a teen. I’d seen her naked long before that.
Jessica was passed out when Judy and Dinita arrived. I got a plastic bag and put the magazine in it. It was one of a thousand magazines that appeared and disappeared overnight. There were pictures of other naked or nearly naked celebrities, but the issue definitely featured Heaven.
Judy sighed and said she couldn’t arrest a drunken driver if she wasn’t driving or at least sitting in the car. She left and filed it as a false alarm. She had, however, managed to get a breathalyzer test that showed Jessica’s blood alcohol level was significantly over the legal limit. Dinita sent Jennifer out for Gatorade and Saltines. She gave us a rundown on what to expect and how to treat it. She said the blood alcohol level was way too high, but didn’t appear to be high enough for alcohol poisoning to set in. I was going to have a long night sitting up with her. There was no way we were going to move her over to her house.
Dani sat with me for a while before she went off to bed. Most of my cónyuge had gone back to bed. Hannah kissed me and told me she’d help Matthew and the kids in the bakery, but to do that, she had to get to sleep right away. I’d normally be up in four hours or less. Cassie, Mary, Josh, and the babies were in the master suite, so there was really no place to move her to. I sat back on my heels and contemplated what to do. I pulled one of the light blankets over her, but just up to her waist in case she needed it. It was near the end of August and we had the air conditioning on at night. I heard a sigh from the big chair.
Rose beckoned me over with her and after tugging at my hastily donned gi, pushed me into the chair and planted herself in my lap.
“We’ll hear her if she needs us,” she whispered. We dozed on and off. We did hear her and managed to keep her pointed toward the bucket when she heaved. We gave her sips of Gatorade, mopped her forehead with a cool damp cloth, and kept her as comfortable as possible. I’d heard stories of college kids having to do this for their friends, but we’d never had this problem on the ranch. I never wanted it again.
“I fired her fucking ass in New York,” Jessica spat when I asked where Amy was. “How could she do this to me? I thought she was my friend. We’ve been together fifteen years. I thought she cared about me. I trusted her. And all the time she’s been planning this for her retirement. Fuck her fuck her fuck her!”
Jessica was convinced that Amy was the only person who could possibly have taken the candid pictures of her. It was a blow to everyone. We all knew and liked Amy. She was part of our tribe. She was part of our Sacred Space.
“Jessica, I want you to talk to Art Pratt about suing this publication. I don’t think you can sue Amy unless you have direct proof that she took the pictures. But we can go after the magazine.”
“Ha! Like that would work. You didn’t even sue the tabloids when they printed the vandalism of the River until you could prove they were in collusion with the photographer. You didn’t get them for the pictures, you got them for the vandalism. And Jennifer Anniston wasted a million dollars suing Celebrity Skin and still didn’t even get an apology. A public person. We are not protected unless a crime is committed in getting the photograph.”
“There was,” I said. “How old were you when you had that mole frozen off that was on your left breast?”
“Almost seventeen. Conrad told me I needed to get it removed and mother took me to a doctor in Paris.”
“That means you were not more than sixteen when this photo was taken,” I said opening the magazine. “They published a nude photo of a minor. That is a felony.”
“Wait! That… I remember that shoot. It was the first one I was on with security in the Bahamas. With Amy. It was a week before my sixteenth birthday.”
“Call Art. I think you have a case. And he’ll grill the magazine hot enough to get them to give up the photographer. If it was Amy, then she’ll go to jail for child pornography.”
That pissed me off. Amy had led our children in the Sacred Space. All nude. If she had pictures of my children naked, dealing with Art would be the least of her worries.
Our Labor Day weekend was a little subdued, but I did get a chance to talk to Angela on her birthday. She and Del were doing fine in Seattle and had found someplace called Ballard where Del felt completely at home. She said she felt a little like a raisin in a batch of sugar cookies, but they were all nice people. He’d opened a new flower shop on the main drag and was doing well. Angela loved her work at the Hutch.
The day after Labor Day, our production team headed to Los Angeles for a meeting at Universal Studios. They would be spending ten days there, going through read-throughs, auditions, screen tests, rewrites, and who knew what else. Sly was going as security for Melanie and Elaine. He didn’t figure Hannah, Rose, or Nikki would have difficulty, especially since Hannah was as prepared for battle as he was. I reminded Rose, though, about our experiences at The National Show and warned them to stay together and not let any one person get separated from the rest.
I was sure they would be invited to parties while they were there to ‘meet some people,’ and all five women were likely targets. I seriously considered going with them. Rose told me that my protective instincts had simply been fired by the photos of Jessica and assured me they were big girls and could take care of themselves. I couldn’t argue with that. Elaine was thirty-two and Melanie was eighteen. The rest were twenty-nine. They were grown-ups.
Besides, Jessica came to me on Labor Day. She’d never traveled without her bodyguard. She had to go back to New York the following Monday to have pictures taken and watch the first day of trading of Agence Portes du Ciel on the open market. There would be a reception Monday night and Tuesday morning when the markets opened, the stock would be public. I didn’t much like New York, but I agreed to go as her ‘date.’ We’d fly out first thing Monday morning.
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
