When the Other Shoe Drops

When the Other Shoe Drops

By April Grey

Author\'s Note: Warning--You are about to read an unedited rough draft version. Typos, grammatical errors, whatever abound. I\'m putting this up for curiosity’s sake. I will be working on One Foot In and When the Other Shoe Drops and combining them into one, hopefully workable novel. So that is why this one is posted unpolished. Read at your own Risk!


Chapter Four – That’s Show Biz


“You don’t have to thank me,” said Philo as he strolled over to where Josh was getting his make-up put on.

“Okay,” Josh sipped his Protein Plus smoothie that he had convince Philo was a adequate substitute for an omelet, “I won’t thank you, but I’d still appreciate knowing what I’m not supposed to be grateful for.”

“The director totally changed the final days of shooting to get you out of here fast.”

Josh choked.

The make-up person stamped her foot, “Philo, get out of here, I nearly ruined his face.”

“Darleen, short of using monster make-up you couldn’t ruin that face, it’s Josh Connor.”

“You little shit, get out of here,” said Darleen, her eyes narrowing.

“Hold on, the two of you. Why did Jerry Logan change the shooting schedule?”

It dawned on Philo too late that maybe he was on thin ice, “Because you were ill this morning and everybody now knows that you cancelled your wedding for this picture and haven’t heard from—“

Josh was out of his seat and holding Philo by his shoulders, “tell me for the love of Christ you didn’t go—“

“Josh, it was only fair. Mr. Logan didn’t know and—“

“So you had to blab it all over?”

“Wait a sec—you’re not still engaged?” Darleen went red in the face, “and you let me make an idiot out of myself for the past month—“

“Doesn’t take much, Darleen,” Philo sneered.

“Fuck you, you glorified gofer.”

Josh was ready to take the shellac out of Philo for his blabbing. Josh worried about his reputation and carefully protected it. Unfortunately, personal assistants owed their jobs to the studio and therefore could be counted on to rat a star out at the first sign of danger. Was that what had happened? Did they see Josh as a weak link, someone who needed to be coddled and catered to before he went off the deep end? It wasn’t true, but once a rumor like that got out it might be a very long time before he got another movie offer. But damn, getting a reputation as a hot head who beat on assistants wasn’t much better. Josh looked at the two of them, and felt ashamed. They were all supposed to be professionals here and that should mean something.

He let go of Philo, “Sorry, a bit of a temper I have there.” He straightened Philo’s jacket, “you meant well. Look, Darleen you were just being kind, not an idiot at all. And I never took you up on any of your offers.”

He forced his body to relax and his face to carve itself into an expression of boyish innocence.

“Well, yeah,” said Philo. “I thought you were dying to get back to her—to your Cindy. But, I understand you might not have wanted me to share that with the director.”

Darleen’s feathers seem to smooth down as well, “Okay, I was just being friendly. You seemed awfully lost.” She smiled, “I guess I understand.”

Josh got back into the make-up chair, “As much as it bothers me to have my private life talked about, it was for a good cause. And I won’t thank you only because you asked me not to.”

He winked and gave his heart melting, almost but not quite good enough for an Emmy, half-smile.

Darleen cursed the lucky girl, whoever the bitch was.

“Okay, places on the set,” came the call.

“Damn, I’m not done yet.” Darleen blotted some rice paper on a cheek. “It will do, I guess.”

“You did great, Darleen.”

“See you at the wrap party?” she said.

“I don’t think I’ll be there, but if I am, I promise you we will dance.” And Josh headed out to do this best.


The day went by quickly with the promise of it being short not kept. Josh lumbered out of the limo and into the sweet quiet of his hotel room. He’d checked for messages at the desk and without much surprise he accept that he still hadn’t heard back from Cindy. The pain of not hearing from her had become a dull ache in his stomach. He’d left message after message for her on their answering machine at home and on her cell phone. Nothing. She hadn’t called him back. And now he was going to do something he knew he was going to regret. Call her parents.

Cindy was much closer to her Dad than her mom. But even then, the lines of communication were pretty open between parents and child. If Cindy had said something about him to her father, he might be able to suss it out. With her mom, well her mom was his biggest fan, if something had been said Cindy’s mom would do her best to fix it and make it all right again. Josh knew that White was good at keeping his feelings under wraps. He also could tell he hated Josh with a vengeance. No reason and no explanation. Maybe it wasn’t personal and he would have hated anyone who had spent 7 years boffing his daughter. But it had gone back so far in time. Right to when the Whites had come to see Cindy in their first play together in college. The distasted had practically flowed out of White’s pores. Maybe he didn’t like the Irish? He hadn’t even shacked up with Cindy at that point. There was no explanation, but Josh had a prickling feeling that if her father had been behind Cindy’s lack of return phone calls, he’d pick it up in her dad’s voice.

“Devon White,” Cindy’s dad answered.

“Hi Dev, it’s Josh.”

“Ah, Josh. Well, it’s nice to hear from you.”

Josh listened to his vocal tone. No sign of irony or triumph. No, whatever it was he probably wasn’t in it.”

“Yeah, it’s good speaking to you. How is everyone?”

“Now Josh, you don’t call just to check up on us. Is everything all right with Cindy.”

Josh had barely the time to think, busted, when Cindy’s mom came on the other extension.

“Joshua, sweetie, is that you?”

“Hi mom, yeah, I was calling to see how you all were.”

“Right as rain,” said Cindy’s mom Lorraine.

I sinking feeling went through Josh. Something was very wrong, but it wasn’t with Cindy, he didn’t think. “Well, that’s good mom. You are both doing well.”

“Yes, we are both doing well,” Cindy’s father had jumped in.

Someone’s ill thought Josh. Dev’s trying to protect his wife. The information spilled through him rapidly. He knew how to read people, it was his job, he thought, to be able to detect a good performance. And while White was good and hiding, he wasn’t good enough.

Josh closed his eyes. How could he fish for Cindy’s whereabouts.

“Have you heard from Cindy?” asked Lorraine.

“Now, Lorraine, of course he’s heard from her. They are as thick as thieves,” boomed White’s voice in Josh’s ear.

Josh squirmed at the hidden vitriol in White’s words. “She’s out of town. I think maybe she just wanted to get away from things to get that new piece she’s working on hammered out.”

“Oh, she is, is she?” White said it innocently, but Josh’s alarms went off. More stress and more tension crept over the phone lines to him from Arizona where the Whites had retired.

“That’s right. I have a feeling her cell phone may be out of range.”

“Oh, well, that would explain it Devon. And we were so worried about not getting through,” the relief was solid in the mother’s voice.

“I’m glad you could put Mother’s mind at rest,” boomed White. “So will you be finished anytime soon?”

“I’ll probably be done tomorrow, day after if not.”

“Well, that’s good,” said Lorraine.

“And where did you say our daughter was staying?”

“I didn’t, Devon. She forgot to tell me.”

There was an extended silence and then, “Okay. Well good luck on the rest of the shoot.”

“And we love you,” said Lorraine sweetly.

“Love you too, Mom.” Josh hung up the phone and worked the knots out of his back and neck.

Devon wasn’t behind Cindy’s missing, but he knew where she was. Josh could tell from White’s response. And that didn’t bode well. He could hardly fly out to Arizona and beat the information out of him. Josh bet he knew where she could have gone. He’d find her at the old tenement she’s stayed at last year. Josh didn’t question how he understood such things when talking to people, but it had helped him time and again in dealing with agents and producers. He very rarely got burnt.

He set his alarm, even though he was quite sure he’d be awake long before he was due to. While lying in the bed he let his thoughts returned to the Whites. He reached a conclusion that something was wrong with Loraine White’s health and it was keeping Devon White close to home. He’d been there for months when normally he was the sort to head out at the drop of a hat. Furthermore, he knew where to find his daughter. Again the waves of dislike Devon had for his future son-in-law had washed over Josh. Why the enmity? Josh could think of no other answer than prejudice as he drifted to sleep.


Josh caught the red-eye flight, not minding that he was probably missing one of the biggest Hollywood bashes of the year. He’d made his goodbyes to the cast and crew quietly. Darleen had cried. Philo looked like he wanted to cry. Lin had given him the phone number to a private detective in New York. How Lin had figured out that his fiancée had gone missing was a bit of a mystery. He didn’t think he was that obvious in his growing concern over Cindy’s disappearance.

Yes, it was a disappearance at this point. Cindy was a considerate and responsible person. She wouldn’t have worried her parent’s like that even if she were angry at him. Something was wrong. And yet, only thirty six hours had passed since she’d left that message for him. Josh pushed away the comforting logic. His instincts had served him fairly well, except for matters below the belt line. He was going to continue to rely on them. As soon as he arrived in New York, he find her or know the reason why.

The plane landed at Newark Airport and Josh hopped the shuttle bus. It really was the quickest route as he could then just walk from Port Authority up to their place on Central Park West. He liked walking miles in New York City and the twenty-five blocks were actually quite enjoyable after being locked in the back seat of a limo for all those weeks in Los Angeles.

The doorman acknowledged him with a nod and Josh felt he’d done the right thing in getting a building for them with all the amenities. New York was a dangerous place and things like doorman served a purpose. He opened the door to their apartment and a wave of sensation hit him. Something reptilian had been there. He’s never felt such a thing and it took him a moment to convince himself to ignore it. He walked over to the sink, there was a cup and saucer with remnants of herbal tea in it. Josh turned around and left it. It was from the cup that the sensation of reptile alien-ness had come.

Josh wrapped his arms around himself wondering if he was losing his mind. How absurd to think or feel such things. It was Cindy not being here. It was the coldness of the loft with it’s designer colors in cool teals and grays. The designer had promised to finish the work, to balance it with some warm hues. But was their designer a dragon?

The thought had just suddenly appeared in his head. A dragon! Josh headed into the bedroom and pushed off his shoes and socks getting ready for a quick shower before heading out to find his woman. On impulse he checked the closet. Her cold weather gear was gone. And although it was grey and dreary in New York, there hadn’t been a snowstorm in weeks. Wherever she’d gone, she was preparing for harsher weather than what they currently had. He also noted that her hiking boots were gone as well.

He threw the rest of his clothes in the hamper and headed for the shower. The water was hot and good after the long hours cooped up in the airplane. He thought again about how things always got weird when Cindy wasn’t around; presence was some sort of cocoon on protection for him from. From the sight, he’d have to call it. Or was it a mental illness of his based on his imagination gone wild. A dragon, how ridiculous.

He came out of the shower and quickly dressed and then with some hesitation he entered the kitchen area. It was palpable the feeling of dragon, even though he’d never met a dragon, even though he knew dragons didn’t exist. It’s residue had been left on the cup, on the couch. He could close his eyes and point to where it had sat. Now how was that for being insanely imaginative!

Walking back into the bed room, Josh found his winter coat freshly back from the dry cleaners. It had been sleeting on and all all day and he was glad of the warmth. His light weight jacket hadn’t been enough for the walk from Port Authority Bus Terminal. He gave a longing glance to the bed, but really wasn’t tempted. He wanted to be sleeping next to his Cindy that night so the delayed gratification would be worth it. He noted that her cell phone was hooked in and had recharged in the outlet by the bedroom dresser. He unhooked it and listened to the various messages. The ones from her parents showed they had been worried, too. And the one from the designer proved he hadn’t been with her when their agent had called. He moved around restlessly thinking about his course of action. It should be simple. Head down to that seedy little building and find her. But it hadn’t been simple the last time. Some man, so hirsute that he looked like an escapee from a circus sideshow had easily tossed him down the stairs. Josh blushed. The whole building had an air of something, not wrong but other. Josh didn’t react well to “other,” it scared him as no mugger or casting agent could. He went into his small jewelry box in the back corner of his sock drawer and pulled out a cross. He’d take it and get it blessed by the local priest before he went to that building. Josh wasn’t a very religious man, but he felt some precaution needed to be taken and this was the only one that came to mind. Still, wasn’t it a silver bullet that you used on a werewolf? The cross was only good against vampires. He’d watched enough Hammer films growing up to know this was true.

He put on his winter jack, scarf and a hat. He found his sturdy boots that hopefully would give good traction against the slipperiness of the sidewalks and headed out to the Catholic Church. He knew the priest would smile but not tease him about blessing the crucifix, he was a good natured sort about Josh’s various superstitions when it came to auditioning and took an active interest in Josh’s life, including discrete hints about Josh’s marital status.

Josh took the time to pray at one of the pews in the Church after he’d gotten the blessing. It was a small church, not very impressive and he liked the feeling of intimacy he got from it. He didn’t know what Cindy was up to but was grateful her father wasn’t involved. When Josh thought “other” sometimes he got an image of Devin White frowning at him. Mr. White hadn’t aged at all. His hair was dark and he had to have been getting botox shots because his face was quite unlined. There was something with caused Josh’s hackles to rise at the thought of White now and he wondered if it wasn’t simply mutual antipathy based on some sort of alpha male desire to be first with Cindy. Now, that was a strong possibility. Josh crossed himself and decided to take the bus down to the tenement in Chelsea. It would be a longer walk both ways to the subway and the sidewalks kept freezing into a dangerous combinations of ice and slush. The M11 arrived and Josh climbed aboard, welcome for the blast of heat hitting his face.

He hadn’t been sitting long when a young woman with buck teeth and bad skin started giving him the look. Josh smiled and busied himself with the poem overhead that was part of the Transit Agency’s attempt to appease its chronically disgruntled clientele.

“Hey, aren’t you Perry Percival?”

Josh looked at the girl and forced back the sigh. “I’m no longer playing that role.”

“Oh, nooooo. But you can’t. I’ll die, I’ll just die if I can’t see you.”

Josh got worried. It happened sometimes he’d run into an overly enthusiastic fan when confined to a small space. He hit the tape request for the next stop. “Would an autograph help?” He smiled.

Her face went into an “oh” and she quickly dived into her overstuffed tote bag. Josh waited patiently as she produced a pen and paper. For a second, he felt the impulse to write down the name of his naturopath. Dr. Giles would be able to clear up her acne in a second with some pharmaceutical strength Vitamin A. But he could almost hear Cindy hiss in his ear, “Don’t, you’ll embarrass her.” He signed his name only, and got up just as the bus pulled over to the stop.

“Thanks, Mr.” she squinted at his scrawl, “Josh Conner.”

Josh waved and got out. It was the ones you never bothered to learn your real name that scared him. Still he’d only had to get out fifteen blocks sooner than he had planned. He shrugged and started walking, careful to avoid slush puddles and patches of black ice.

Most of Chelsea was affluent, and it was only on the marginal areas that the urban blight of older tenements remained. He enjoyed looking into the various small chic boutiques, trendy restaurants and high priced galleries that now ran along Ninth Avenue. The new Soho, so it was called by grasping real estate brokers. He was glad they had stayed in the Upper West Side. It was the superior family raising area, and if he had anything to say about it, he’d find a way to get Cindy to agree to start a family right away. He’d done good work on the film, and he felt sure there would be more offers. And even if there weren’t, Perry Percival had disappeared, and could reappear anytime the soap opera writers decided to bring him back in. Josh was a known quantity in the soap opera world, unless something went terrible wrong, it was money in the bank and a secure future.

He walked securely, knowing that he’s not slip or fall and reached the run down building quickly. He looked up and felt unsettled. The place looked abandoned. It felt abandoned. He had been sure he would find her, but now? He rang the buzzer of the apartment she’d been staying at.

Nothing. He waited as long minutes crawled by. He tried another buzzer, and then another. Eventually he’d rung every one and not a single response. Though it was cold out, and the drizzle came and went, he began to sweat. He had no other leads and he was beginning to accept that she might actually be gone, quite beyond his reach.

No.

Not acceptable.

He leaned against the front door, willing someone, anyone to show up. After all it was only early afternoon. Perhaps they were all out at jobs. Of course, that was possible. Anything was possible.

The damp was soaking through the heavy wool of his winter coat. He stamped his feet and watched the steam from his breath. He decided to take a break. He’d go down the street to the Starbucks and get a mug of spiced cider. He could sip it and keep warm while he waiting for someone to show up.

He was in the Starbucks when he noticed something. It was more a feeling, a sense between his shoulder blades, like his hackle was rising. He paid for the drink and left. There at the front door was a girl. She was a goth, or so he assumed from the piercings and army boots.

“Wait, hold up. Stop.” He ran fast, as fast as he could wild side stepping patches of slush and ice.

“Hey mister, what’s your problem? Wait, are you?”

He reached her, as spears of pain tore through his lungs as the cold air lanced through them. He stopped and tried to catch his breath.

“Cindy,” he gasped.

“Oh, fuck. Right Soapy Boyfriend.”

Just then Josh heard the sound of the building’s front door opening.

“Hey is he bothering you.”

Josh glanced round and up, it was the artist from whom Cindy had bought an exquisitely awful portrait of something which was supposed to be a demon.

“Hey, aren’t you?”

Josh quickly put his foot in the door. “Get lost mister. We don’t have her,” said the artist.

“I’m not going anywhere Mr.--- um-- Thor Solveig. That’s your name, I remember. You aren’t going anywhere until you tell me—“

“Oh, fuck. Get inside, Natalie. I’ll handle this.”

“But Mr. White said—“

Thor got red in the face, “Now!”

Natalie shot inside.

“Look here Mr. Connor.”

“Mr. Connor is my father, call me Josh.”

“Cute. Cindy is not here.”

“But her father is? Look you don’t frighten me. Not you, not even with those stupid tribal tattoos on your face, I’m staying here until I find out where Cindy is.”

Josh’s hands flexed into fists. He felt his adrenal glands pumping in preparation for a fight.

“I don’t want to have to hurt you, so just go away. She’ll come back to you, gods only knows why.”

“I don’t like your attitude,” Josh cringed. It was a bad mediocre thing to say, but the truth. “I have a right.”

“You’re out of your league, little man. Now go home and play with your scripts and let the adults handle things.”

There were a few people taller than Josh. But 6 foot one was not short, nor was it even medium height. He’d gone up against men as much as a half foot taller and fifty pounds heavier. He wasn’t going to be intimated.

“I’m not leaving,” he took off his coat, “now get Devon and tell him I want to talk to him.”

“You are such a jerk—“

Just then a small voice came from the sidewalk.

“Excuse me for interrupting your very interesting discussion; however,--“

Josh looked and did a double take. It looked like a man sized mole wearing a pea jacket. “What the hell are you—“

Then everything went black.

When Josh came too he was aware of voices coming from the next room. He touched the ground underneath him and found himself to be on a bare mattress. He tried to get up but felt a wave of nausea hit him. So he closed his eyes and listened.

“So, you Folk were just over the bridge in Prospect Park all this time, just amazing,” Josh recognized Cindy’s father’s voice.

“That is right Warlord. When they took your daughter, I ran from the Mage as quickly as I could. I went to our old tunnel to come find you in this world. I am sorry that I could do no more.”

“Well, hell, it’s just lucky that Thor is still using this place for storage for when he exhibits.”

“Don’t know about that, don’t trust fate, luck whatever. We saw Jimbo with Cindy on the day they left. I tried to warn them not to go. Tunnel’s been odd as of late. I told them it couldn’t be trusted, that it was unstable. And then Jimbo came back just the day before and warned us that Cindy was going to try and summon the Faerae. He was really scared, what with him getting your daughter mixed up to her eyebrows in the mess,” that was the artist’s voice.

“And you phoned me, thank you for that, Thor, I owe you. So, it’s agreed. The three of us will head over and—crap, it’s fifty years ago all over again. The only thing those little bug bastards are afraid of are the Demons,” White’s voice was low and tense. And it sounded true. Josh realized in all the years they’d been forced together through Cindy, he’d never heard White’s honest voice. It was younger and stronger. It matched his face.

“What about Pretty Boy back there? I could swear he said he could see my marks. And he freaked when he saw Kember,” Thor again.

“He reeks of Faerae. It was the first thing I ever noticed about him. Shame Cindy’s so attached to him. I’m betting he’s a throw back. Happens now and again. Unlike Elfish, Faerae stays in the gene pool and doesn’t dilute. Get cousins or some such marrying each other and you find yourself with something that resembles a Faerae.”

“So he’d have the sight?”

“But he wouldn’t know what it was. Their type usually become mages, shamans or poets.” White’s voice was filled with honest loathing. “When they don’t self-destruct that is.”

Josh had no idea of what they were babbling about. Talking about Fairies, but not the gay kind, at least he hoped. Josh was not homophobic, but he was straight, thank you.

“Well, so he became an actor. And he’s got the look of the Faerae.”

“Wish my daughter weren’t so stubborn. The bastard is nothing but trouble for her. Using her, catting around behind her back—untrustworthy just like his ancestors.”

Josh flushed. He forced himself to stay lying down and didn’t dare make a noise. It was obvious if he was to find Cindy it would be without their support.

“So what do we do with him? I can’t keep him in my apartment. This is my storage area.”

“Hi guys,” Josh heard the girl come in the door. “Decaf for Thor, hot chocolate for Kember and Eggnog Latte for Mr. White.”

“Thanks beautiful, did you get something for yourself?” Thor’s voice normally caustic voice was dripping with honey. Josh read the love and lust he had for her quite clearly in his dulcet tones.

“I did. If you don’t mind, I’m going grocery shopping, that is if we aren’t heading back to the farm tonight.”

“Sweetie, I want you to head home by yourself.”

“Thor, you are not going after her. I forbid it.”

“Darling.”

“Seven months from now, when our baby is born, I want you to catch it. And that isn’t going to happen if you go on some crazy rescue mission for your ex-lover.”

Josh bit his inside cheek. Crimson waves of fury sped through him.

“Honey, I owe it to her.”

“You owe our child more.” Natalie’s voice had a ring of cold steel to it.

White chucked. “You better listen to her. Nothing like a pregnant woman to show you her true colors. Kimber and I will be fine. We’ll figure it out.”

“But if you do need to summon a demon—“ Thor sounded unsure.

“We’ll be fine. I’ve been a player for centuries now. We’ll get her back.”

“So what do we do with him?” came Thor’s voice sounded irritated.

“Leave him on the sidewalk outside next to a patch of ice? Someone is bound to come along and figured out he slipped.”

“It’s cold out there,” Natalie sounded indignant.

“You have a better suggestion, mother of my child?”

“Leave him in Cindy’s old apartment. It’s empty. And he’ll realize that she’s not here.”

“Decided,” came White’s voice. “Now we need to head back. I still don’t trust our passage; it seems unstable.”

“As is the one in Brooklyn,” said Kember. “Just travel quickly and hope for the best.”

“Let’s go. And you Thor, drop off our friend and then high tail it home with your wife.”

“I’m sorry, Devin.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t get to enjoy being a father first time around. Relax, you earned it,” said White.

Josh heard people leave and then let his body go limp as he heard what could only be Thor’s heavy feet come near.

“Okay, Sleeping Beauty.”

Josh felt himself lifted up like he were a rag dog and tossed over Thor’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Thor carried him down the stairs and along a corridor to where he was dumped on a hard, dusty floor.”

“Try not to dream the day away.” And Thor’s footsteps headed away, down the hall and the stairs.

Josh listened to him leave and then looked around him the room was filthy with neglect and quite empty. A dull light came in from the windows and he could see that it would soon be evening. His jaw hurt where he presumed Thor had sucker punched him. He thought about all he had heard. His first impulse, and second and third for that matter, was to dismiss it all as a bad dream. That was all it could be, right.

Talk of Fairies, although the accent was wrong, Fair ray was closer to the way they said it, still all that talk was so much malarkey. Wasn’t it?

Josh had seen many impossible things in his life, mostly when he least expected them. What if? What if they had been real? Fairies and Demons they had talked about. Why that really disgusting picture that Cindy had acquired from the artist, Thor, it was supposed to be of a Demon.

And Thor, with those strange symbols on his face, how was he connected to Cindy. His wife had said Cindy was his ex-lover. Josh slammed his hand down on the floor raising a small cloud of dust. It made sick to think of her with him- with his long, blond hair and over developed muscles-- in bed with her. He would find Thor and—what? The man was soon to be a father. He was no threat to Josh’s relationship with Cindy, and he had another piece of the puzzle. It wasn’t the hairy man who had thrown him out who had been messing with his girl. He’d been wrong about that.