Roll Call

Recently I got a chance to read "Roll Call"...about life in a Mexican Prison, the Mexican drug cartel, you know all the fun & fluff you would expect.

I am still in the midst of reading it.  So far, so good.  It takes a bit to pull you in but when it does...you. are. in.

So to wet your whistle, read a little snippet:

Vince wrapped his body around Candy’s in a spoon

position. She was facing the other way and he breathed

in the fragrance of her shampoo and thought about

things. I’ve been out of prison for almost three years;

I’m off parole and back in Orange County. Why did I

feel so drawn back to this county? Why didn’t’ I just

stay in Bakersfield with my Mom where parole and life

was so easy? I know why, life is boring out there and I

missed this area.

Feeling Candy’s heart beating too fast and her foot

kicking, Vince thought about being released from

Pelican Bay and then High Desert. He remembered

paroling with Damon and the pact he made not to

do any more speed no matter what! He remembered

telling Damon how he could see that speed the biker

slammed into his vein clearly, how it sent him off on a

path that went in so many directions, but guaranteed

that it would end in prison. Now here he is, discharged

from parole and back in Orange County with this

gorgeous girl, Candy for the past two months. Her

heart is beating too fast.

Vince thought, Candy got out of rehab two months

ago and seemed to fall in love with me instantly. Now

I know I’m in love with her. Vince looked at the alarm

clock he’d set up with the small mirror angled just right

until he could see Candy’s face. Her eyes were open and

her eye lids were flashing open like a butterfly’s wings.

Vince thought about what he’d heard about Candy.

There were rumors she had been an escort, a high priced

one. It was said she used to have a route through the

most expensive gated communities in south Orange

County where she stopped and did what she did to get

her bills paid and clothes and other presents bought for

her. Supposedly she didn’t have sex with any of them,

rather she was more like a mobile stripper who teased

and flaunted her way through wallets and credit cards.

Vince laughed, I should have known, with her name,

Candy.

Vince looked at the alarm clock right as it went

off at six am... He watched her pretend to just wake

up, yawn and get up. He watched her sexy voluptuous

angular body walk to the bathroom in a G-string and

thought, she is a candy bar, though. As soon as the door

closed Vince reached over to the table and looked in the

handbag she seemed so protective of. Her paper work

for the lawyer she worked for was in there, so were two

pairs of stiletto heels, a mini skirt, lingerie, and a video

camera. Vince pulled out the small video camera and

slid it under the bed. A half an hour later Candy walked

out.

She walked out dressed in a tan business suit looking

like a model receptionist and sat on the bed. Vince

looked into her brown eyes and kissed her pouting lips

possessively for a couple of minutes. Then he stared at

her curly brown hair and angel shaped face as she said,

“Vince I want a family life with you honey. That’s my

dream, so don’t forget it. I have to go to work; I’ll be

home for dinner. Love ya.”

Vince pulled out the video camera. The little blue

hand held camera had the name Candy 007 on it in

glittered stickers. He hit play and watched Candy in

her other life. The video showed the footage was from

two days ago. Vince thought, right when I felt her

feet kicking and her heart beating too fast. The video

played. Vince watched Candy video herself driving in

her Range Rover to the Smut Peddlers playing on the

stereo. Candy was wearing strappy stiletto heels, a mini

skirt, a top that showed off her uplifted breast and tan

skin, her hair in pony tails, sucking on a sucker while

dancing to the music. Vince saw her pulling up to a

gated community. A gate guard came to the window

and Candy said, “I’m Candy for Vladimir. He should

have called me in already.”

Vince stared at the gate guard and knew the

community. It was the most expensive gated community

in Santa Margarita. He watched the gate guard hand

over a pass and Candy drive in. The video stopped and

started again. This time, someone Candy called Vladimir

was holding it and following her around. Candy walked

into an extravagant kitchen right to the refrigerator and

pulled out a bottle of Stolichnaya Vodka like she knew

the place well. Candy asked, “Don’t you have any Grey

Goose Vodka? You know that’s my favorite.”

Vince heard the man holding the video’s deep voice

say, “I’m Russian, what do you expect... Are you back

on your mobile escort tour now that you’re out of rehab?

And what’s up with your job working as a receptionist

for that lawyer, is it just a front?”

Candy smiled for the camera while she poured half

a glass over a couple pieces of ice. “You ask a lot of

questions. Yes, I’m back in business. It’s hard to let go

of the kind of money I’m worth. The lawyer I started

working for uses speed and heard of my infamous

reputation. He hired me because of it, so you can assume

what kind of work I do for him. Now back to business.

Do you have any more speed for me and can you pay my

Range Rover payment Vladimir?”

“It depends. Take off your G-string and throw it

to me. You’re going to have to go up to my room and

dance for me for a couple hours. Are you going to let

me taste you yet?”

Candy lifted a leg and climbed out of her G-string

and lifted the other one and did the same thing. She

threw it toward the voice and said, “Eventually, if you’re

really good to me, I might let you taste my candy.”

Vince felt a pain foreign to him as he heard the deep

voice laughing, following Candy up the stairs with her

ass swishing back and forth underneath the skirt. Vince

realized what that foreign pain was, his heart breaking.

He took a deep breath that got caught in his throat

thinking about how long he’d been lonely, locked in a

cell. His saw his hand holding the video camera shaking

and set it down right as the phone rang.

“Vince... Did I... Leave my video camera?”

“What camera Candy?”

Vince detected in the tone of his voice the knowledge

of the camera and gritted his teeth.

Vince heard Candy’s tone of voice signify she knew

he knew. “I’m sorry Vince...”

“It’s okay! We’ll deal with it!”

Vince detected the desperate tone of his voice and

hated it.

Vince heard Candy’s voice crying, “No it’s not okay.

I can’t be trusted, I’m too dysfunctional.”

Vince said, “The story of my life,” to the dial tone.

Vince paced Candy’s apartment back and forth just

like he did in his cell for all of those years. He thought,

I should call Damon at Crossroads sober living in San

Clemente. I’ll call after I call Candy again. Candy still

didn’t answer and Vince found himself remembering

the hundreds of cell searches he lived through in the

many different cells he’d lived in with Damon. Instead

of calling Damon he found himself going through

Candy’s closet. He searched every inch of every hand

bag and purse, checked every pocket in jeans, jackets,

and sweaters, went through the seams of every hat and

then remembered something. Candy was wearing one

of her favorite dresses three days ago when she first

started acting wired. A Gucci dress, a Valentino dress

and there it was, the Oscar De Larenta. It was a black

sexy dress that had tassels that could be tied around the

dress or left to hang. Inside one of the tassels there was

an opening and a small bag of crystal speed wedged

inside.

Vince pulled it out and dumped it on a table. He

remembered Candy saying, “I want to have a family life

with you honey.”

Vince thought, “I’ll find you and make that family

life happen” as he snorted every granule like a vacuum.

He felt the pain burn a trail up the nasal membranes

that triggered all of the insane memories just under

the surface. He thought of those six years in prison

with Damon, the hundreds of cell searches, bus rides,

court trips, politics and survival strategies, and realized

something. I can’t call Damon, I’m high, and I’d be a

bad influence.

Pacing around in circles Vince found himself

stopping at Candy’s nightstand drawer, opened it and

found her cell phone bill. There were two numbers

she called with the most frequency, and the times

developed the first part of a mental map. He brought

every trash can in the apartment and filtered through

everything and found notes containing more pieces

to an investigative puzzle. Vladimir’s name, phone

number and address were there. The search intensified

into a meticulous dissection of Candy’s apartment; and,

Vince thought, her own personality. There was a drawer

full of legal briefs from the lawyer’s office where she

worked. Upon closer inspection, Vince realized, Candy

is filtering through his most high profile clients. Good

girl. Vince pulled the drawer all the way out and off the

hinges and found a flash drive hidden on the frame of

the drawer with a piece of tape. Really good girl, let’s

see what’s on it.

Tell me, does it wet the whistle or no?