12-08-2011, 03:40 PM
Tina LaRue watched from the driver's seat of her daughter's silver Lexus as Junior's Maserati tooled casually down the side street and disappeared. She had been trailing him ever since she saw him pull out of his driveway an hour or so earlier. She followed him to the Luxor, where she watched that little nurse of Mick's get into the big black Mercedes that could only belong to Springs. Junior tailed the Mercedes while Tina tailed Junior all the way to the corner where Springs let Casey out, then watched as Junior followed her down the street where she probably lived.
So, she thought, Junior's casing out Nursie. Well, he can't be smitten with her--she's not that good looking, and definatly not his type.But then, it could have something to do with the will. Maybe he's planning to have her whacked. I wouldn't put it past him, given that he's Mick's son after all.
Tina drove the Lexus into the parking lot of a small bistro and went inside. She ordered a chicken salad wrap and a cappuccino and sat down to ponder her next move. It didn't matter to her if Junior bumped off Casey Worth; it would be one less thing on her to-do list. Her target was Junior himself, that lousy playboy who cared for nothing but his own pleasures. She knew he had a mistress or three stashed somewhere--he was his father's son after all. Mick had been the same way, chasing anything in a skirt even after they got married. She had had a few marital donnybrooks with him over his womanizing, and in the end she took Heather out of the house and Mick into divorce court. Unfortunatly, that louse of a lawyer he had blew holes in the pre-nup they had signed and Tina ended up with a lot less than she originally stated, a lousy half million total instead of the two million a year. Enraged, she had grabbed her daughter and stormed out of the courtroom, vowing to get back at Mick Piccucci one way or another.
When she heard from one of the few remaining contacts Mick and The Guys still had that her ex-husband was dying, she took desperate measures to get his money by trying to annul her divorce so she could be his legal widow and claim his estate. That plan, of course, fell through. Not only did he cut her and Heather out of the will, he left the whole thing to his caregiver, Casey. Well, Mick, may he rot in Hell, wasn't going to get away with it! Let Junior bump off Casey Worth, she thought. He'll either end up on Death Row, invalidating his claim to the estate, or he would meet with an unfortunate "accident". Either way, Tina was going to come out the winner. Nothing was going to stop her from getting what was coming to her.
Criss was tired after a long day of meetings, rehersals, and shooting the latest episode of MindFreak. All he wanted was something to eat and a quick nap, but there was the Loyalapalooza weekend to plan yet.
"Have someone bring in some food for the meeting, willya?" he ordered his assistant, Jennifer. "I'm starving."
"Shall I call the deli?" Jennifer asked.
"Yeah, good idea," Criss nodded. "Keep it healthy, willya? Thanks."
Jennifer got on the phone and called the hotel deli to order a platter of sandwich wraps for the meeting. Criss went into a small meeting room in the back of the office where the small committee designated to planning Loyalapalooza waited.
"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I ordered something from the deli for everybody." He sat down at the head of the table. "Okay, let's get started. What's the agenda?"
Linda Basse, the social co-ordinator, picked up her notes. "Okay, day one is the stage show where you do your illusions with volunteers from the audience; day two is the meet-and-greet-slash-press conference; day three is the taping of your episode with the Loyals. The whole thing will be shot on the top deck of the parking garage, as usual."
"Sounds good," Criss agreed. "Anything else?"
"What illusions do you plan to perform?" Linda asked.
"The usual," Criss replied. "Levitation, card tricks, mentalism, things like that. I don't want to burn myself out doing any major demonstrations. I mean, I still got the live shows to do."
Everyone nodded in agreement. There was more discussion about the live show, security and other details, then the deli tray showed up and everyone dug into the food, grateful for the break. Criss was satisfied with the planning of Loyalapalooza--nothing should go wrong, he thought. If something did go wrong, he was confident that his staff would take care of it. But he was confident in the efficiency of the hotel security staff and his own that everything would go smoothly. His Loyals deserved the best he could offer, and he was not going to disappoint them.