Roses for Juliet

Chapter 1

Some days he felt like a circus barker, "Come one, come all and see our wide range of variety acts."

To himself he could add the part about the performing monkeys in tutus.

He sighed and kept what he liked to call his 'work face' on. It was mostly blank with a touch of concern, interest and understanding. Steve fought the impulse to roll his eyes as his client stormed and raged around the office like a caged beast. He watched the gestures and listened to the carefully modulated voice. Steve could see why the man before him did well on the silver screen. At the moment though, that wasn't his concern.

"It should be my only concern, " he thought to himself bitterly as he watched the actor make another round of the office. That, after all was his job, promoting the careers of the famous faces. And he was good at it. He represented some of the top personalities of the world of the stage and screen. He should be concerned about their stage presence, talent and crowd appeal. He should worry about getting them on talk shows and in magazines.

Unfortunately, more often than not other members of the firm dealt with those issues. His role was usually a combination babysitter, confessor and janitor. He was good at that job too. Steve allowed himself a small, tight smile but didn't let it linger. He wouldn't want the client to think he was amused.

The actor, Nick Alex by name, was easing out of what Steve liked to refer to as Phase 1 of his diatribe. He paused to take a sip of his scotch and soda, then effortlessly slid into Phase 2. Steve resisted another sigh. It was progress, but not much. Phase 1 merely stated that something had happened.

Phase 2's primary concern was the shifting of the blame. It laid the groundwork for Nick to state, and in most cases truly believe, that he had absolutely nothing to do with whatever went wrong. It was not his fault. Someone else was to blame. It wasn't until Nick felt fully justified in his behavior that Phase 3 would begin. It was then that Steve would find out what happened and start the process of spin.

Steve sipped his coffee calmly. There was no point in rushing Nick. He would get there eventually. In the outer office Steve could hear his secretary arrive and settle in for the day. Many of Steve's clients called him in at odd hours and she knew not to disturb him if the door was closed. She would hold all calls and visitors automatically. They had a system developed over fourteen years of working together. When calamity struck he would turn the framed picture sitting on the corner of her desk upside down as he passed.

Steve knew two things about the man in front of him that the world was not likely to learn. The first was that Nick Alex's real name was Oscar von Horwitz and the second was that no matter what disaster had struck the actor this time, it was most definitely his fault. In the six years Steve had done business with the man he had won three Emmys and been nominated for three more. He had accrued quite a number of Golden Globes, totaled no less than eight vehicles with his drunken driving and at least twice that many women with his drunken behavior.

Steve watched Nick pace the floor as he sipped from his travel coffee mug. He brought it from home and it held his first cup of the day. He kept it carefully turned so the mug's message would not show to the pacing man. Steve doubted he would notice, given his state of mind but Steve was one who noticed details and it would bother him. He had worked hard to be perceived as a professional, and as appropriate as the "Life is rough, wear a helmet" slogan was at the moment, it was certainly not professional. Steve studied Nick as he moved.

The Hunk of Hollywood was beaded with sweat and he tugged at his collar with a hand that wasn't quite steady. His other hand gripped the tumbler of scotch so hard his knuckles were white and Steve feared for the survival of the glass. Nick's skin was pale with hectic spots of color flaming across his cheekbones. His famous wavy locks were in complete disarray. Steve was frequently presented with the less than glossy appearance of the actor but rarely had he gotten this bad. Steve's ears perked up as Nick paused, finished off his drink and set the glass down on the desk before flopping into one of the chairs. That was the signal for the beginning of Phase 3. Maybe now he would actually find out what happened.

"You believe me right?" Nick whined. Steve fought back a wince.

"Of course it wasn't your fault, " he replied automatically. Nick sighed.

"I knew I could count on you."

"Why don't you tell me exactly what happened? Don't leave anything out, " Steve cautioned holding up his hand to stop Nick's interruption. "I know it isn't your fault but if I am going to keep them from making it look like it was your fault I need to know everything."

Nick nodded and gripped the arms of the chair. References to the obsequious them calmed Nick down. Steve knew in Nick's mind, they were always responsible for everything. Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. As he let the breath out, he opened his eyes.

"Okay it's like this you see. I was out last night, no where in particular really, you know, " Nick began. "Just bouncing around, right. A little fun here. A little fun there. Nothing wrong with a little fun now and again. And I don't know, I was flying pretty high, feeling no pain and all by the time I got to Asteroids. You know the place, great place off Franklin in that old warehouse building they converted? Has this far out space theme going?"

"I know the place, " Steve replied nodding. It was fast becoming Nick's end of the line spot. Steve had already extricated the actor from a number of difficulties there. A fact Nick always conveniently forgot. The last time it had taken quite a lot of cash and fast talking to convince the management that barring Nick from returning would be bad for business. Luckily the owner was a big fan.

"Yeah well I was pretty wasted, but I picked up this hot chick there. Man she was something. Great tits, long legs. Anyway we were getting pretty down in the booth you know, " Nick smiled and gave a half chuckle at his sexual exploits. Steve waited for the disastrous punch line.

"Well anyway the manager he comes over real nice and all and tells us we really are gonna have to take it out of the club so we head back to my place. We barely made it back to my place, man you should have seen the bang up parking job I did. My gardener is gonna be pissed man." Nick chuckled at the thought then his smile started to slip after a few seconds of contemplation.

"Here it comes, " Steve thought.

"Thing is I don't remember much after the club you know. Just bits and pieces. It's all spotty like. And well I woke up this morning and well she was just dead." Nick went silent and swallowed hard. Steve sighed. This wasn't the first time he had been forced to remove an overdosed party girl from someone's bed. Steve just hoped Nick hadn't done something stupid with the body before coming to the office.

"Where is she now?" Steve asked.

"Still at my place, " he answered. "I didn't know what to do so I just locked up and left."

Steve nodded. "Is your cleaning service coming in today?"

"No man, they come on Tuesdays."

"Good, " Steve replied, thinking fast. He tapped his finger on the table as he worked through the steps needed in his mind. "Now, people may remember that you left with her from the club." A look of panic flared in Nick's eyes. "All you have to tell them is that she was gone when you woke up."

"Gone when I woke up, " Nick repeated. The panic dimmed.

"Yes, just that. Don't embellish or get creative with it. Just that she was gone when you woke up. Don't elaborate."

"Don't elaborate, " Nick parroted.

"Exactly, " Steve stood up. "Now I want you to drive home and make sure there is enough space in the garage for me to pull my car in." Luckily Nick had a garage attached to the house with only a door between. The cars he wasn't driving at the time were stashed in a separate garage in the back.

"But I'd have to park outside, " Nick whined. "It's hot outside man." Steve ground his teeth but forced his voice to remain calm and steady.

"I know it is hot outside, Nick and I assure you that you can get back in the air conditioned garage soon, but I need to pull my car into the garage so that I don't have to take the girl's body outside."

"Juliet, " he said.

"What?"

"Her name, man."

"Oh, " Steve replied. He didn't want to know her name, didn't want her to be a person. It would only make what had to be done more difficult. "Fine, Juliet. Now will you park outside for me?" Nick nodded. "Great, " Steve led him towards the door. "I'll only be a few minutes behind you. Don't go back into the bedroom, okay? And don't let anyone in."

"Just behind me?" Nick asked as he led him past Nancy's desk.

"Yes, just behind you." Nick walked to the elevator and Steve pressed the button for him. The doors slid open with a ding. Nick got on the elevator and pressed the button as the doors closed. Steve turned back to his secretary.

"I take it this is a bad one?" She asked.

"Nan, you really don't want to know." She smiled sympathetically at him.

"How much of your schedule do you want me to clear?"

"Just today, please. Oh and call Eric and tell him I'm on my way."

"Will do." Nancy flipped to the card placed in the back of her Rolodex. All it said was Eric and a number. It was a number she only had to dial when things got bad enough that she knew questions weren't a good idea.

Nancy didn't ask. She didn't want to know.

Steve got his car keys from where he had tossed them on the desk and pressed the down arrow for the elevator. Leaving Nick alone with his problem for too long didn't seem like the smartest of ideas.

Chapter 2

Steve followed the road to Nick's house. The monolithic structure towered over him as he pulled into the circular drive. The house always reminded him of a monument or a museum. Someplace to lead tour groups through, not something you actually lived in. Who needed all those rooms anyway? It wasn't like the actor actually had any hobbies that required space other than his party games, and those mostly took place outside his home or in the bedroom. Everything else was just a pass through. Like Nick, it was a pretty, empty shell.

Steve smiled tightly to himself as he noticed Nick's car pulled to the side of the driveway and the garage door open wide for him. A section of the perfectly manicured lawn was torn up and one of the landscape features had been completely decimated, giving validity to Nick's claim of feeling no pain the night before.

Steve's memory called up a peaceful arrangement of stones and carefully placed desert flowers where the tire tracks and wreckage now lay. Steve pictured Nick's gardener, a small compact man named Jimmy who hummed to himself as he worked. Steve helped Nick hire him and knew Jimmy worked just as much for the love of plants and the beauty they created as the money. He made a mental note to talk with Jimmy at some point and smooth some of the soon to be ruffled feathers.

It was the third time to Steve's knowledge that Nick had damaged some part of Jimmy's work and a little talk, as well as a little extra cash, might both soothe the intense Japanese man and keep him from potentially leaking information to the press about Nick's drinking. Nick was being considered for a role in a family film and stories like that weren't good for business.

Steve pulled a little past the door and then backed into the waiting garage. Nick was nowhere in sight but Steve hadn't really been expecting him to be. He killed his engine and climbed out of the car, popping his trunk along the way. He reached over and pressed the button for the garage door with his elbow to deter finger prints and closing himself off from the outside.

Transporting bodies was a tricky business. Steve didn't know too much about science but he had watched enough of those CSI shows to know DNA found in his car was usually a good indication of guilt. He walked around to the open trunk and pulled out a box of heavy-duty garbage bags. He had planned on doing some work in his yard this weekend. Unlike Nick, he actually enjoyed being outside and doing some light manual labor. He hadn't really planned on spending his Friday dealing with a corpse, but that's showbiz.

He opened the box of garbage bags by punching out the perforated triangle and pulling the first bag through the hole. Carefully he lay the bag down on the inside floor of his trunk. He pulled a second one from the box and heard the door to the inside house open. He didn't bother turning around.

"Do you have any duct tape? He asked over his shoulder.

"Duct-tape?" Nick asked. "There might be something over there. What do you need the tape for? It's not like she is gonna put up a fight." The edges of the words wore a little slurred and Steve looked up to find Nick taking a healthy swig from his full glass. The ice clicked together as the glass tilted.

"You might want to slow down on those today, " he suggested as he walked over to the tool bench. Nick snorted but his comment was lost as he mumbled into his drink. Steve didn't ask for clarification. The workbench was picture perfect, like a display model. There was a light coating of dust on the tools as if the cleaning service didn't routinely make it out here or Nick found the dust to be manly.

Steve found a roll of duct tape and returned to his trunk. He used short pieces of tape to secure the trash bags to the edges of the inside of his trunk, making sure they overlapped so nothing could slip through. Within a few minutes the entire trunk had acquired a shiny black coat. He pulled two remaining bags from the now empty box and placed the box in the large trashcan. He put the roll of duct tape back where he found it.

"Wow, man. That's cool you know, " Nick said, peering over his shoulder. "Real slick."

"Thanks, " Steve replied dryly and gestured towards the door. Nick stared at him blankly.

"The girl." Steve said with a sigh.

"Oh, right. Juliet." Nick turned and led the way back into the house. Steve followed him through the kitchen and the living room. Both rooms looked picture perfect, exactly the way the decorator had laid them out. They climbed the stairs and finally entering the actor's bedroom, Steve could see some sign that the house was indeed occupied by more than a cardboard cut out of a family. Clothes were scattered across the floor in little heaps. A woman's high-heeled shoe was lying in the center of the room on its side. It looked lonely and abandoned. For some strange reason Steve found himself staring at it.

"You know, I was pretty drunk last night, " Nick said. Steve blinked and looked away from the shoe. His eyes kept picking out pieces of the girl's clothing scattered in bright feminine randomness in the masculine room.

"Well, my performance might not have been up to, you know, my usual standard." Steve turned to look at the actor. Nick was gazing abstractedly at the bed. "I'd just, you know, hate to think that she died thinking I was a lousy lay." Steve took a deep breath and counted to five.

"Just pick up all her clothes and put them in this. Anything that is hers goes in the bag." Nick snapped out of his haze and took the bag from Steve.

"Okay yeah, " he replied and began scooping up the woman's things. Steve walked over to the bed and looked down at the woman.

"Shit!" Steve jumped back from the bed with a yell. Nick backed towards the door.

"What. What's wrong?" he asked, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth.

"She was shot?" The words came out as a half question, half accusation.

"Yeah, " Nick said.

"I thought she was another OD." Steve said. His breath was still shaky but he was starting to get pissed.

"I've never had a chick OD on me."

"Not you. Another client, " Steve replied still staring at the girl.

"Really, who was it?" Nick asked, curiosity bright in his voice. Steve felt the muscle in his cheek jump as his teeth clenched.

"What happened." It was more a statement than a question.

"I told you, man. I don't remember much, I mostly crashed."

"How did she get shot Nick?"

"I don't know. I swear I don't."

"Where is your gun?"

"I don't have one."

"What?"

"I don't keep a gun, man."

Steve sighed and rubbed his temple. It wasn't really his concern how the girl had gotten killed. His concern was getting rid of her and all evidence that she had been here.

"I don't care if you shot her Nick. I don't care why either. I just need to get rid of the gun with the girl."

"I know, man. I get it. But I didn't do it." Steve looked Nick in the eyes.

"So with all this high-tech security in this place, someone just walked in and shot the girl in bed with you and then just walked out?"

"I must have forgotten to set the alarm. I do that sometimes." Steve looked back at the girl. The bullet wound was small and ruined a cute, pixie-like face. The girl had short brown hair cut into some sort of bob and she wore an odd pendant kind of necklace. She was delicate and Steve could easily see why Nick had taken her home.

He hoped Eric would still take the job. He was a peculiar man and Steve didn't know if a bullet wound would sour the deal. The bullet wound was small though and didn't do too much damage. There wasn't even a lot of blood on the girl's face. There seemed to be a lot of blood on the pillow under her head though. Steve gently turned the girl's head and saw immediately where all the blood had come from. The bullet may have gone in small but it made a big mess coming out. It looked like it had exploded inside her head and taken the back of her skull with it. Luckily the pillow had absorbed most of the mess.

"The sheets will have to go too, " he said out loud. Nick started to protest about the waste of expensive sheets, but something on Steve's face stopped his arguments cold. Steve slipped the garbage bag over both the girl's head and the pillow, glad that he had bought the large heavy-duty bags. Absently he wondered why Nick was worried about the sheets.

The girl wouldn't fit entirely in the bag, but at least the bloody parts would be covered. He took her down to his prepared trunk and placed her inside. Nick followed with the sheets and the second bag filled with the girl's possessions. Steve arranged the sheets over the girl's lower body and took the bag from Nick. He looked inside. Two shoes, underwear, dress.

"No bra?" Steve asked.

"She wasn't wearing one."

Steve nodded. "What about her purse?"

Nick looked blank for a moment. "It wasn't there."

"Wasn't there?"

"No I looked."

"Are you sure she had one?"

"Yeah, " Nick closed his eyes in thought for a moment then looked back at Steve. "Yeah one of those multicolored small backpack looking things. Like the granolas sometimes use. Didn't match the rest of her, ya know. That's why I remember it. The rest of her was all glossy and shiny. The purse didn't match."

"And it isn't there?"

"No man, I said I looked."

"Look again." Nick went back upstairs while Steve finished arranging the sheets.

"It's not there, " Nick said, returning as Steve shut the trunk. Steve sighed. He hated loose ends.

"Keep looking and if it turns up let me know. Don't try to get rid of it on your own. Don't take anything out of it. Just call me and I will come get it. Okay?"

"Okay, " Nick said looking relieved.

"Now what do you say if someone asks about the girl?"

"I took her home, but she was gone when I woke up."

"Good, " Steve said as he walked around the car and opened the driver's side door. Nick looked pleased that he had gotten something right.

"Now, just go about your day as if none of this ever happened. Got it?"

"Got it, " Nick said heaving a sigh of relief. Steve got into the car and shut the door. He seriously doubted Nick would even bother remembering the incident in a few hours. Once it was no longer his problem the actor would exercise his selective memory and go right back to his normal life.

"And remember, no elaboration." Nick nodded and pressed the garage door opener. He waved as Steve pulled out of the garage and clicked the button to close the door again as soon as the car was clear. Steve sighed and shook his head as he pulled out of the driveway and on to the main road.

He didn't like this. There were too many variables. The gun, the shooter, if he could believe Nick, and the missing bag were all elements outside of his control. He turned at the stop sign and headed towards the Freeway.

It was time to see exactly where Eric drew the line.

Chapter 3

Steve headed north on I –5 winding his way out of the city. Morning commuters poured in from the suburbs making half of the interstate packed with half-awake, angry people. His side of the road was busy but still moving. The further out of town he drove, the sparser the traffic became.

"Most people just aren't going my way, " he said out loud to the empty car and snorted a laugh. "Ain't that the damn truth." The road cleared out and Steve's black Lexus was the only vehicle on the road. He was out of the heavily populated areas and through the suburbs heading out into state park territory. Trees, dark pine mostly, began to crop up on the side of the road, replacing the gas stations and mini marts with long dark shadows.

Suddenly the silence was a little too much. It gave him a little too much space to think. Steve didn't want to think. He reacted to the situations he was given; Most of the time the situations he found himself in didn't bear thinking about too closely. Steve looked around and noticed he hadn't brought his CD case out with him that morning and had never gotten around to downloading songs to the I-pod he had in his desk drawer at the office.

"The radio it is, " he said aloud. He flipped through the stations, blazing past used car commercials and info on upcoming concerts. He wasn't in the mood for classical and the country station just made him wince. The smell of the girl in his trunk eased its way into the car.

She hadn't been dead long enough to stink of rot and decay. She still smelled...female. Steve took a deep breath and realized it was her perfume seeping into his car that he smelled. It wasn't a sexy sort of smell. It was a light feminine scent, baby powder and roses.

A girl's scent. It seemed to complement the more masculine scent of the leather interior. It was an alluring combination that stirred old memories in the back of Steve's mind. He swallowed hard and tasted the metallic scent of blood that had mixed with the perfume and leather. Steve rolled down the window, washing the air clean with the scent of the dark pine. He twisted the radio dial, willing a decent station to come in to shift his thoughts.

Finally, he found a station playing a song he could sing along to. He tapped the steering wheel in time to the music and mumbled the lyrics to himself to block out his own thoughts. He drove automatically to Eric's place, his mind registering the turns without much conscious thought.

He hadn't actually made that many trips out here and Eric really wasn't the sort he'd visit on his own time, but each visit had been memorable and he knew the way. Steve shifted his thoughts back into the blank and sang along to the music.

Eric lived in a nice quiet place, one of the few privately owned spaces between the state park and the federal wildlife protection area. It was a remote, isolated spot that suited Eric just fine. Steve pulled into the flat patch of dirt in front of the house and Eric came out of the front door wiping his hands on a spotlessly white dishtowel.

"Just finishing up the dishes, " Eric said with a grin. "You want some coffee? I figured as early as Nancy called me this morning and the long drive out here you probably didn't have time for much." Eric had a disarming grin that despite the gray creeping into his shaggy blonde hair was boyish and filled with innocent fun.

"Sure, " Steve said. He stepped up onto the porch and shook Eric's hand. It was roughly callused and still slightly damp from the dishwashing. The handshake was firm but neither of them tried to crush the other's hand with their grip. There was nothing between them that needed to be proven.

Eric led Steve to the kitchen and Steve took a seat at the kitchen table while Eric fixed two cups of coffee. Without asking Eric stirred two sugar cubes and a dollop of cream into Steve's coffee before handing it to him. It was just the way he liked it. Steve smiled as he took his first sip. Eric always paid attention to details. It was one of the things that made him so good at his job.

As they sipped their coffee they chatted about the weather, sports and the odd news clips they had both seen, staying away from both politics and religion to keep things polite. When the coffee was done and a second cup declined, Steve sat patiently until Eric rinsed out the mugs and set them on the dish rack to dry. It didn't do to rush him. Eric took the world at his own pace.

"To business then?" Eric asked. Steve swallowed a sigh. Finally. He was more than ready to finish this.

"This one is a little different, " he said. He had always been one to jump straight into the pool rather than easing his way into the cold water.

"They are all a little different, " He replied, with a half smile.

"True, " Steve said. "This one comes with a bullet."

"Shot?" Eric raised an eyebrow in surprise. "My, my." Steve explained the wound but gave no names or any other identifiers to the situation. Just the body and the bullet. Eric sighed.

"Well we're gonna have to take a look and see what we see aren't we?"

"I suppose so." The two men left the kitchen and went out to Steve's car. He popped the trunk.

"Nice legs, " Eric said, looking at the corpse.

"Yeah, " Steve replied, looking away as Eric studied the naked corpse. He didn't like to think about this part. It was like getting a flu shot at the doctors, you knew you needed the medicine; you just didn't want to see the needle go in.

Steve turned back to the trunk as he heard a ripping sound. Eric had pulled out his pocketknife and sliced open the trash bag covering the girl's upper body. He stared at the bullet wound a moment, turned the head a little and then straightened. He licked his lips and nodded.

"Yeah I can work with that." He said. Steve sighed with relief. "Standard business, " Eric told him.

"Good. It will be in your account in three days, " Steve replied. Eric gazed down into the trunk.

"She sure is a pretty one." He let his hand gently graze her arm before scooping her out of the trunk. He cradled her in his arms as gently as a virgin bride and carried her into the house. "I'll be right back for the lady's bags, " he called over his shoulder. Steve nodded and swallowed hard. He hated this part.

Steve pushed the thoughts away with action. He pulled the bag containing the girl's clothes out of the trunk and then ripped the bags protecting his trunk out and stuffed them in with the girl's effects. As he pulled the last one he heard a metal clinking on metal sound. It was the girl's necklace. The clasp must have somehow snapped.

Steve bent over peering into the trunk. The scent of the perfume was stronger here and Steve had to clamp his teeth together and force himself to inhale while bending over the trunk. The necklace was wedged into a crevice and he tried to reach it but his fingers just couldn't fit into the little space. He couldn't even get a grip on the chain. Needle nosed pliers might do the trick, but his hands certainly weren't up to the task. Eric came back. He was wearing a dopey grin and kept looking back into the house.

"Well, she's all settled in. Is this her stuff?" Eric gestured to the stuffed garbage sack. Steve stuffed the last of the bags into the filled one, deciding the necklace could wait. Eric no longer wanted him around and he certainly wanted to be anywhere else.

"Yup, that's it."

"Good, " Eric swung the bag over his shoulder like Santa Claus. "Well, have a safe drive back."

"Good to see you again, " Steve said by way of formal parting. Eric waved as he retreated into the house. Steve got into the car and drove away. The house was barely out of sight before he had to pull over. He pulled onto the shoulder and stopped. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. He knew that Eric had an incinerator out back and that all of the girl's clothes and the girl herself would be roasted into ash, with the larger bones ground up and spread out. In a few days there would be no trace of her left. It was just the space between her arrival and her cremation that Steve didn't want to think about. Steve let his breath out in a thin, steady stream and opened his eyes.

"It has never been a problem before, " he said aloud. "It's not like she's still in there anyway. She's gone. Beyond pain. Her body is now just an empty shell. Why is this such a problem?" His voice sounded thin. Steve took three deep breaths, holding each for a five count before letting them out. He eased the car back on the road.

"Juliet, " he said. That was why this was such a problem.

"Why the hell did Nick tell me her name?"