Ashes of Yesterday

Chapter 18

"I'm going to kill you!" Monrova screamed, lunging toward her boss.

"Like you did Reed Kimball!" Alfred Steppson bellowed.

Monrova stopped abruptly. It was as if his words slapped her in the face.

"How dare you accuse me!"

"Don't act dumb," said Steppson. "It doesn't become you."

"What are you talking about," Monrova asked.

"Your sniffling little habit," said Steppson, wiping his nostrils with a short, stubby finger.

Monrova's hand involuntarily rose to her nose.

"Yes, my dear. I know all about it. Did you think you could hide it from me? Reed Kimball was a friend of mine. Remember?"

"You two were buddies?"

"Yeah. We were. I told him to quit dabbling in that stuff," Steppson said. "Told him those boys he was messing with, the ones who supplied him with that crap, would just as soon knock him off as look at him. But Reed never listened to me. Hell, he liked dope as much as you. Oh, don't look so shocked. And don't play innocent with me! I'm not fooled by your act."

Monrova got up and went to the window. Her face was a twisted knot of fear. She was hungry for it. Steppson knew it. He could smell it. Every nerve in her body screamed for it.

"Reed was dealing with some rough types. He owed them a lot. But lately, he was short on cash. I'll say this for Kimball. He wasn't afraid to take a chance. Sometimes, you win. Sometime, you lose. That's just the breaks. He was going through a dry spell. That's all. I guess those guys he owed couldn't wait. They never can," said Steppson. "What a pity. He would have bounced back. He always did. They could've had their dough plus interest. Stupid fools."

"Who are you kidding?" asked Monrova. "You act like Reed was dabbling in that stuff by himself. You two were as thick as thieves. As a matter of fact, you both were the thieves! And you accuse me!"

"Yes, I do! Your little habits are costing a fortune," said Alfred. "What's the matter, Monrova? Did Kimball close the lid on the cookie jar?"

"And what about you!" screamed Monrova. "You hypocrite! As long as we're slinging dirt, I'd put my money on you as Reed's murderer, you old horse thief."

"Where do you come off calling me that!" said Alfred. "I made you. I can surely destroy you!"

"Don't you dare threaten me!" Monrova yelled. "If you do, I'll go to every sleazy paper in this country and let them know about you! And you call me a sinner! Huh. What about your sins! It's an open secret how much you like young girls! It's disgusting. You'd hump a baby!"

Alfred charged at Monrova. He slammed her against the wall. His fat, stubby fingers closed tightly around her long white neck. Her breath came in short, painful gasps. She felt his hot breath on her face.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said softly through clenched teeth. "That could prove to be your fatal mistake."

Monrova fought to keep from passing out. His stranglehold on her airway was powerful, and Monrova knew – deadly. Her eyes were wide with fear. She felt his grip stretch her neck.

Would it snap in his hand?

Then, the studio boss smiled. Apparently, she had shown enough fear. He was satisfied. He let go of her neck, and she sank limply to the floor.

Emory entered the office.

"How many times have I told you to knock, Idiot!" Alfred Steppson bellowed.

Emory's eyes were glued to the limp girl's form.

"Get this piece of trash outta here," said Steppson. "And throw her contract in the ash can, too. She's through. I'll personally see to it she never works another day in this town for as long as she lives."

Alfred's face was scarlet. The vessels in his forehead were bulging.

"And knowing her," he added, "I'd lay odds that won't be for a very long time!"

Emory did as he was told. He assisted Monrova to her feet and escorted her out of Steppson's office. He had witnessed the aftermath of his uncle's furies before. He always felt like Alfred's janitor. And it wasn't much fun cleaning up after the great man's messes.

No.

It wasn't much fun at all.