The Blue Streak cab pulled into a long procession of limousines and Towne cars heading to the guest drop-off in front of the Swann Club. Searchlights crisscrossed the night sky. Flashbulbs popped along the red carpet. The Port Pinnebog elite rolled in for the Viggo Pederson invitation-only event. Onlookers gathered behind red velvet ropes strained their necks for a look at the people that made the mansions of Tip Town their homes.
As the cab crept closer to the drop-off spot, Alicia Webb began to have reservations about attending.
"Quite the shindig," the cab driver said. "I should have brought my camera."
Alicia turned to face the driver. "Can you get out of this line?"
The driver looked out her window. "They have us blocked in with concrete barricades. We missed the jumpout lane a few cars back."
The man sitting next to Alicia leaned forward. "Why do you want to leave?"
"I don't belong here," Alicia said. "I should be at the hospital with Carol Ann."
"She told you to go."
"She was drunk, Mr. Cooley. You saw her."
"Yes, I did, and I'm not convinced it was just the wine."
"Carol Ann doesn't do the drug scene, Mr. Cooley."
"Could you can stop with the 'misters' and call me Paul?"
"Look, I know Mr. Reasoner wants you to go to this for some other case he's working on, but I don't need to be there. I can give you the invitation."
The cab driver looked into the rearview mirror. "Did you say, Reasoner?"
"Yes," Alicia said.
"Artie Reasoner?"
"He's my boss," Cooley said. "I take it you know Artie."
The driver grinned. "Oh, I know Artie. Tell him Betty Dempsey says hi."
Cooley laughed. "I'll be sure to pass that along."
"Hey, we're the next car," Betty the driver said. "I can jackrabbit past the drop-off if you want."
"It's up to Miss Webb." Cooley leaned back. "I'll get out at the corner and walk back."
Betty spoke into her rearview mirror. "You going to let this guy go in there alone?"
Alicia held the invitation card Viggo Pederson had given her and Carol Ann the day he came into the Depot Diner. What Viggo Pederson had been doing in Edgeville Alicia couldn't say. She hadn't immediately recognized him sitting at the counter. She asked him if he wanted to wait for the woman he'd come in with before he ordered. He informed her he came in alone. When she told him the woman's name, the announcement shocked him. When she told him the woman said he was wrong about what happened, he wept.
Two days later, the invitations were hand-delivered to the Depot Diner.
'You are cordially invited to a special evening in support of Viggo Pederson as he announces his candidacy for mayor of Port Pinnebog. Join him in this celebration.'
The cab slowed to a stop. the back passenger door opened. A woman with a clipboard leaned inside the cab. She snatched the invitation from Alicia's hand.
"Please exit the vehicle. Proceed to the step and repeat board."
"The what?" Alicia felt overwhelmed.
"Where all the cameras are," Paul Cooley said.
"Oh, this is too much..."
The lady with the clipboard handed the invitation back to Alicia. "Come on. I've got thirty cars to unload in twenty minutes."
"I can't..."
Cooley nudged her. Alicia pressed back against the rear seat as Cooley attempted to squeeze past her in the narrow gap between her knees and the back of the front bench seat. Alicia slid to her right. In order for Cooley to pass without crushing her, she got out of the cab. Before she could get back in it, Cooley closed the door and the cab pulled away, the space immediately filled by a limousine.
"Please head to the step and repeat board," the lady with the clipboard repeated herself.
"I don't know what that is," Alicia said.
Cooley took hold of Alicia's hand. "It's where all the photographers are snapping pictures in front of a backdrop of sponsors."
Cooley led her down the red carpet. She could feel the eyes of the crowd on her, all those faces with invisible question marks over their heads, wondering who the flip she was.
"That was a sneaky thing you did back there, Mr. Cooley."
"I don't know what you mean."
"You could have gotten out the other side but you had to crawl across my lap."
"It was either that or drag you out of the back seat."
The mask of anonymity played to her advantage. A yellow sports car raced up to the drop-off. A woman in a black, formal cocktail dress handed her keys to a valet. The photographers flocked to the woman posing against the latest sports car from VIPE Motors.
"You know who that is?" Cooley asked her.
Alicia shook her head. "I can't say for certain but she looks like Corrine Lara, the movie star."
"That's because it is Corrine Lara the movie star."
"What's she doing in Port Pinnebog."
"She's from here."
Corrine Lara strolled past them, the photographers stumbling in her wake. She stepped in front of the campaign wall with 'VP for Mayor', 'More Michigan Manufacturing', 'Port Pinnebog Pharmaceutical Labs: PPPL', 'Thumb Financial', and 'VIPE Motors' repeated behind her.
"Come on," Cooley said. He led Alicia past the step-and-repeat wall avoiding the paparazzi. It almost made up for getting her out of the cab.
The Swann Club was a massive entertainment venue built by Oliver Swann, a well-known architect and millionaire construction company owner. Swann used development money provided by Mayor Tibbets 'Revitalization Initiative'. Viggo Pederson's decision to use it to announce his candidacy for mayor was a direct dig at Jeannine Tibbets.
The sheer opulence of the club awed Alicia. Up until she walked through the rotating doors of the Swann Club, the Depot Diner had been her barometer for sophistication. Her world would never be the same.
A jazz band filled the ballroom with music. Dancers filled the ballroom dance floor.
"Well?" Paul Cooley asked. "Aren't you glad you got out of the cab?"
Alica smiled. She spun around in a circle. "Dance with me."
She extended her hand to Paul Cooley but before he could take it, a man in a security vest approached them.
"Miss Webb?"
The man's arrival shook Alicia. This is it, she thought. I'm not supposed to be here after all and they're kicking me out.
"Can we help you?" Paul Cooley asked.
The man gave Cooley an 'it's none of your business' smile. "I'm John Blake, head of security for Mr. Pederson. He would like to speak to Miss Webb."
"He invited me," Alicia protested.
John Blake smiled once more. "Yes. He's been waiting for you."
"For me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Blake's smile remained patient. "Mr. Pederson only told me to bring you to him."
Alicia looked at Paul Cooley.
"It'll be all right," Cooley said. "Let's go."
Blake put a hand up in front of him. "Sorry. Just Miss Webb."
Again, Alicia hesitated.
"You're not in any trouble, Miss Webb," Blake said. "He just wants a word with you."
"I'll be right here," Paul Cooley told her.
"It's an open bar," Blake said. "Plenty of entertainment."
Cooley turned to the growing crowd. "Looks like it."
Blake gestured with his hand. "Right this way, Miss Webb."
Alicia followed the head of security to a cage-style elevator. Two additional security guards stood outside the sliding door. Only Alicia and John Blake rode up to the third floor. Neither spoke. A bell rang announcing their arrival. Blake folded back the door. He once again gestured in the direction he wished her to go.
"Just down the hall. Suite 316. Just knock." Blake slid the door closed and descended.
Alicia hesitated. The hall was quiet. Still. For all the hullabaloo down below, the third floor was eerily silent. It was so quiet she could hear her heart thumping in her ears. She looked about for the stairs to sneak away.
A door opened. The din of a crowd echoed out of the room. An imposing figure stepped into the hall.
"Miss Webb?"
Caught. "Mr. Pederson."
"Do join me, won't you?"
Alicia smiled. "Of course."
She proceeded down the hall. Pederson greeted her with a thin smile as she stepped into the suite.
Across the room, a large picture window opened onto the party three floors below where she stood. Two sp[eakers hung on braces in each corner. A dial on the wall adjusted the volume of the crowd. Pederson turned the dial to Low.
"Thank you for coming to my party, Miss Webb." Pederson stepped over to the bar. "Can I make you a drink?"
"No, thank you."
"Do you mind if I have one? I'm a bit on edge."
"I imagine you would be. Running for mayor and all."
"Yes. There is that."
"Is there something else giving you concern?"
Pederson took a long, draining drink. "Is she here?"
"Who? My friend, Carol Ann? I'm afraid she's in the hospital right now--"
"Not her," Pederson said.
Alicia looked at the billionaire staring anxiously at her. "Oh. You mean the woman I saw at the diner."
"Yes. Is she here?"
"No. Right now it's only the two of us."
"Right now."
"Yes."
"So, you expect her arrival."
"I'm afraid that's not how it happens, Mr. Pederson. It's not a constant occurrence. More like intermittent episodes. It just happens. I have no indication it is going to until it does."
"Then you can't summon her."
"No. Nothing like that."
Pederson closed his eyes. His breathing became long and loud. "I've tried contacting her myself. Spirit boards. Mediums. Hallucinogenic drugs. I get nothing. I was hoping to speak to her through you."
"I'm sorry. I don't know what to tell you."
Pederson turned to her. His eyes sad, his speech heavy. "I understand. I'm a man used to buying what he wants. All the money I have can't buy me what I want. What I need."
"I wish I could help."
"Please. Don't waste a wish on a man who regrets a missed opportunity of his past. I have learned to live with my mistake."
"Who was she, Mr. Pederson?"
"Dorothy Martin. She did a USO act with her sister, Dolly. The Calvacade Sisters. I was a captain in the army when I first saw them performing for the troops. After the show, I introduced myself to the two. Dolly was in a hurry to pack and head off to their next show, but Dotty lingered. We hit it off, started corresponding. I didn't see her for three full years. When the war ended, I saw the USO was doing a tribute show here in Port Pinnebog. I went to it. Dotty and I fell back in love."
"But something happened."
"My success happened. I'm sure you've heard the rumors about my enterprises."
"I'm from Edgeville, Mr. Pederson. I work at a diner in a train depot. I hear a lot of stories."
"Believe what you want, but the one truth I'll tell you is Dorothy told me it was her or this empire I was building."
"I see."
"I don't think you do. I made my commitment to Dorothy. I was going to abandon all of this, move away from Port Pinnebog."
"But something happened."
"If I was going to give up my world for her, that meant Dotty would have to give up hers for me."
"She was going to leave show biz."
"Yes. She was going to have to tell her sister the act was over. She planned on dropping the boom, as it were, after their Chicago tour."
"Did she?"
"I don't know. I never saw Dotty after she left for Chicago. During the three-week tour, a stagehand became obsessed with her. When she rejected him, he became enraged. Trapped her in her dressing room one night when she was alone. When she didn't return to their hotel room, Dolly called the police. It was too late."
"Did they catch the stagehand?"
"He was dealt with."
"Oh..."
"When I came into your diner that afternoon, you said Dotty told you I got it wrong. I was hoping to find out what that was."
"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything."
"It was wishful thinking on my part."
Alicia wanted to offer him some kind of solace. She was interrupted by a knock on the door. John Blake entered the suite.
"It's time for your announcement, Mr. Pederson."
"Yes, of course." Pederson turned to Alicia. "Miss Webb, I hope you'll stay and enjoy the party. You may have use of this suite. I leave you now."
Pederson followed John Blake out of the room.
Alone, Alicia collected her thoughts. It had certainly been an eventful day. One that she was ready to see end. She made her way down in the elevator to find Paul Cooley. She wanted to tell him she was going to the hospital to check on Carol Ann but after that, she would be heading home to Edgeville and if he wanted to, he. could call her. Just to check up on her, maybe.
Energy buzzed around the giant ballroom. A buzz permeated the conversations. The jazz band remained on the stage behind a speaker's lectern. Corinne Lara spoke to the crowd.
"...and that is why I can think of no better candidate to lead this great city into the next decade and beyond than my uncle, Viggo Pederson!"
That certainly explained the presence of a movie star at the event.
Corinne Lara turned and hugged Pederson as the crowd erupted. Cameras flashed. The jazz band played 'Holding onto a Hero'.
Alicia eventually found Paul Cooley at the bar speaking to a woman. She started to turn, to walk away when she heard Cooley call out to her.
"Miss Webb," he said. "Over here."
Alicia forced up a smile. "There you are, Mr. Cooley. I almost walked right past you." She held out her hand to the woman with Cooley. "Hi. I'm Alicia Webb."
The woman shook Alicia's hand. "Jessica Robbins."
"Jess writes for the Port Pinnebog News," Cooley said.
"Yes. I'm afraid I caught the thrilling lead of bored billionaire decides to run for office."
"Not your beat?" Alicia asked.
"I like a story that has meat on the bone and not gristle."
Viggo Pederson's voice boomed from speakers on the stage. He promised jobs, safety, the usual.
Alicia rubbed her arm. She had goose flesh along the underside.
"Something wrong?" Cooley asked.
"I don't know," Alicia said. "Feels like something is going to happen."
"Miss Webb is a psychic," Cooley explained.
"I'm not a psychic," Alicia insisted.
A loud shout came from the ballroom. Cooley and Robbins ran to the dance floor. A man was shouting at Pederson.
"What did you say to my wife?"
"I don't know your wife, sir."
"Who is the cuckold?" Jessica Robbins asked.
"Crap," Cooley said.
Robbins turned to Cooley. "What is it?"
"That guy's our client. Louis Norton."
"Well, this lead just became front page," Robbins said.
"Bull-smotch!" Norton yelled. "She had a picture of you."
"I"m sure a lot of people have pictures of me. It doesn't mean I know them personally."
"Do the letters D and M mean anything to you?"
Pederson froze. Louis Norton advanced. John Blake came up behind Norton. The two men swung fists at each other until Pederson told Blake to let Norton go.
"Don't go dumb now, Pederson. D and M. Who is she?"
"She is Dorothy Martin," Alicia Webb said. "And she's telling you to shut your mouth."
After that, Alicia Webb would no longer enjoy the mask of anonymity. Her face would appear on the front page of a number of local, state, and national newspapers. The world for Alicia Webb would never be the same.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Whew. This one was a long haul to write, mainly because I had a lot of ground to cover. No A. I. prose was used this time but I did generate over 100 images. I kept clicking Create until I'd get a frame I felt looked close enough to a past image that I could use.
I let the chapter be told through Alicia's eyes. She was the reason Cooley was at the Swann Club but why was she there in the first place? It wasn't Cooley's story to tell. And while I rely on characters to reveal who they are through stories from their past, it had to be Alicia's journey to reveal the events. She went from feeling like an imposter crashing a party to a woman who stepped up to take control of a situation. Cooley was simply a catalyst as a means of getting her out of the cab, a bridge between Alicia and Jessica Robbins. Viggo Pederson wanted Alicia there to connect to the ghost woman.
Having been part of a political family in the 60's through the 80's, I used some of that background in the rally. I don't know if any of that came through. For instance, there was no red carpet at the events, but I remember photographers being everywhere, including my uncle's basement when he held a reception for his supporters when he ran for mayor. I remember my cousin the actor staging tribute numbers to his father. I remember a woman predicting a long political career for my uncle.
Another important thing was the introduction of Corinne Lara, Jessica Robbins, Betty Dempsey, and John Blake. Also, while we'd heard of them in prior chapters, Viggo Pederson and Oliver Swann got a little more depth to their lives. Each chapter I pull the curtain back a little further on Port Pinnebog, a fictional city in Michigan's thumb. There is a Pinnebog River but no rusting industrial metropolis.
Next chapter is probably going to be Art Reasoner's journey through Tracksville. I'm not sure he'll ever get to the Swann Club or if he does, the event will be over and he'll go in for a chew and a beer.
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