Simple Man

- TWENTYTHREE -

   Quincy Riggs was a professional asshole. Not that he couldn't have made something respectable of himself but he chose not to. He could have been anything. He was whip-smart and resourceful but in terms of his character the lengths he went to get the perfect photo would have been beneath most people. He loved the stake outs, the prowl, the chase. It was thrilling. He kept his ears close to ground and his eyes glued to the camera awaiting the next money shot.

Rumors were currency in a place like Hollywood. It was just whispers but these rumors in particular seemed more substantial. Quincy felt it in his gut this was going to be a big story and considering how size-able that gut of his was it was hardly ever wrong. He smoothed down his comb over, camera hanging from his neck as he stood outside the residence of Rowan August smoking a cigarette. There were a couple other mosquitoes buzzing around him by the names of Ruben and Lorenzo. Quincy overheard Ruben's big mouth brag to the other about the shots of Jennifer and Brad he scored earlier that week.

Quincy just shook his head. Everyone is getting shots of those two. This, this was the real score. This was a chance to scoop a story no one had yet. To be the first. If Quincy could get a money shot or some creditable insider information that led to that shot, he would be set up for the rest of this year and into some of the next. Rowan August hadn't shown up for the read through of his new film. That in and of itself wasn't news, but the whispers all started to connect to a mystery. It was said his manager had canceled his GQ interview. He was also suppose to running the promotional circuit with his co-star from his last movie and again, he never showed. His manager even canceled with David Letterman.

Who cancels on David Letterman?

Rowan August was really starting to upset some people but that wasn't the pressing issue Quincy was concerned with. He could care less who Rowan August was snubbing, the issue was where the hell was he? Quincy had been outside his house the last day or so and there had been no sign of him inside or out. That was strange. Sure, actors vacationed all the time. He had shot many a photo of jet-setting celebrities sunbathing on a beach in places like Mallorca or Santorini. These trips were planned. The schedules were usually cleared out well in advance. Paparazzi would be tipped off—sometimes by the celebrity themselves—where they would be.

    There had been no such communication between Rowan's people and the press. Quincy got ahold of Rowan's schedule from a reliable source. It was cleared out now for weeks but according to the source it had been booked up solid until several days ago. This was the story—now just to find out why. Quincy took one last, long drag before flicking the butt down on the sidewalk. It flew and bounced a couple times as ash flew off of it and the red light started to die away. "Fuck this." He said to himself as he walked across the street.

    He might get trespassed but since when did that ever stop him? Hell, he'd been back on property he was already trespassed on before. Leonardo's people had already called the cops on him twice. When big money was involved the risks were always worth it—even if that meant a night in the clink. Quincy had seen Edmond Halston enter through the gate, another gentleman in the passenger seat. Neither one of them had made it back out yet. "What do you think? Rehab?" Lorenzo said as he met Quincy on the other side of the road.

"I never heard of Rowan having an substance abuse problems. Actually, the opposite. I think it's something else."

"C'mon man... Like what?" Lorenzo laughed.

"I don't fucking know, that's why I'm here. Even if I did do you think I'd fucking tell you? No one is getting this story but me."

"Oh really? What makes you think that?" Lorenzo asked as Ruben finally joined them.

Quincy turned on the spot and pointed a grubby finger in his face, "Because I'm Quincy fucking Riggs and only I have the balls to do the shit you spineless asswipes won't because your too afraid of getting a little heat! I'm one of the most loathed men in Hollywood for a fucking reason! While you two bozos scamper after your eleventh-thousand shot of Brad and Jen sucking face I'm going after the stories that are interesting because I prefer not to hold my dick in my hands like you all! I go after this shit!"

"Go fuck yourself!" shouted Ruben.

"Seems your mom already beat me too that." Quincy retorted as he put his camera behind him and started climbing the gate. He was out of shape in almost every area but his upper body—in that he was well-conditioned. Ruben went to go after him but Lorenzo held him back, "Dude, let it go. He's just going to get himself arrested."

"Ha-ha. Whatever. I'm still get story before you assholes," Quincy said as he heaved himself over the other side.

He landed not so gracefully in some bushes. He didn't care if he was injured but he checked for any damage to his camera. It seems to be okay. The bush was damaged from his weight but he didn't care, he rolled out of it and stood up. It was a decent sized courtyard, laid in gravel with an industrial looking fountain of a tree in the middle. The outside was wrapped in metal siding but Quincy could see from the inside the walls were made of brick. It only registered in his mind as visual information his eyes collected but what he saw was nothing close to relevant. He couldn't care less about what people did with their money, he just wanted a piece of the pie they ate from.

He saw movement deep inside the house and he creeped closer as he stepped onto the front patio and slowly walked to the front door—trying to use the tropical foliage as cover. He knew for sure Edmond and the other guy were still in there but he hoped to catch a glimpse of Rowan. Was he sick? Was he depressed? What was his deal? Whatever it was Quincy was determined to find out more. Hopefully it was something good—the more salacious the better.

   It was muffled but he thought he heard talking. Were they in the garage? Quincy quickly walked toward the four car garage off to the left side of the house. There was a side entrance and Quincy squatted down to press and ear at the door. It was still muffled but he could hear it better than before.

"I'll—" "—find it." Said one of them.

It sounded like the two were rummaging through metal drawers, Quincy held his breath and after a beat more talking. "I told you, nothing."

"—drawer is locked."

"So?"

"So why is this drawer locked?" Quincy heard but the rest was hard to make out, he tried to concentrate harder.

Something, something "—the key?" He heard.

"Key, key, key... hold on... here's some keys!" One of the men exclaimed, that came out very clear. If only they would keep yelling Quincy might actually get something useful out of this.

He couldn't make sense of what they said next but it sounded like a short argument between the men before it got quiet again. The only sound was a softer scraping of metal. They must be trying the keys they found on something, Quincy lived for the intrigue.

"—I told you." said a man.

  The other man had a Hispanic accent and talked too fast, Quincy was getting frustrated.

"I don't and—" Quincy listened harder, if that were even possible, "Let's just go."

"Wait." said the other man, his voice getting excited again, "I think you owe me five thousand dollars."

"Oh yeah?—"

"Because I just found Rowans' senior yearbook." Quincy heard one of them say.

Again, another silence before he heard, "What?"

"You ever heard of—" Quincy wanted to groan, knowing in his gut he just missed something important "—Louisiana?"

   Louisiana. Something about Louisiana. Quincy didn't know much Rowan August trivia but he knew he was from Louisiana. New Orleans to be exact. It wasn't much to go on but it was a start. What made Quincy pause was the fact that Rowan's manager was snooping for answers too—which made this all the stranger. That's when the obvious answer hit Quincy right between his beady little eyes. Rowan left town and he didn't tell anyone where he went. Quincy wasn't yet a hundred percent sold on it yet but that's what this felt like and if that turned out to be the case this story was going to be massive. Who would be the first to find the missing Rowan August?

Quincy was determined is was going to be him.