Catsby: A Novel

Chapter 29: Part 1

An hour later, we arrived at the Hilton. Cordon's Wienermobile was already parked out front. Tucker rolled the bike into traffic.

We took the elevator straight to the top of the hotel. Tucker tried to act nonchalant when Cordon let us in, but he couldn't hide the jealousy in his eyes. The penthouse suite was large and ostentatious. I hadn't expected anything less from Catsby.

"I thought we would just go to the movies," I said, marveling at the opulent palace, which included a hot tub and single-lane bowling alley. This place put Tucker's little dead-celebrity flop house to shame. One of the lesser Hilton sisters was behind a counter, ready to rent us bowling shoes at the drop of a hat. If anyone literally dropped a hat, someone would probably hop out of a closet to pick it up.

"There's a movie theater in the next room," Catsby said.

"You sure they allow pets in this place?" Tucker asked.

Dandelion emerged from the bathroom. "You guys finally made it. I was beginning to think you got lost."

"I'm a man," Tucker said, jacking up the bass in his voice. "I don't get lost."

"Unless you're looking for the clitoris," Cordon said, giving me an evil eye.

This was true, but my excuse—a good one—was that she was in need of a trim. It was like looking for bigfoot in the Pacific Northwest.

"Where's the booze?" Tucker asked, his voice brimming with irritation.

"Calm down, Old Spice—we'll phone the concierge and have a few bottles—"

"Don't 'Old Spice' me. Where'd you pick that up, anyhow?"

"I can call you something else, if you'd prefer—but I doubt you'd like it any better."

Dandelion jumped between them once again. "You two! If this turns into a big brouhaha, I'll leave at once. There's no need to fight."

Catsby phoned the concierge. Meanwhile, Tucker and Dandelion faced off with each other like they were about to fight or make love. There's such a thin line between emotional extremes, it's hard to tell sometimes.

"So you're an Arizona man," Tucker said without looking in Catsby's direction. I strolled to the window and looked out onto Times Square, which was as gaudy and packed as ever. What a beautiful, revolting city.

"That's correct," Catsby said.

"Let's hear about it...Old Spice."

Catsby cleared his throat. "I was enrolled in a few online classes at the University of Phoenix, which is headquartered in Phoenix, Arizona. I never graduated, though, so there's not much to talk about."

Tucker glanced around the room to gauge our reactions to this ho-hum revelation.

"You may look at me and assume I've always been well off, but that's not the case," Catsby said. "I worked at Starbucks for a while, and they paid my tuition at the University of Phoenix. I was let go when the tough times came, so that was the end of my education. I could go back anytime I wanted, but what's the point? It's like one of those little old ladies who finishes her associate of arts degree on her deathbed. Pointless for someone like me who has it all."

"You have it all," Tucker said. It wasn't a question. It was an accusation.

Before Catsby could answer, there was a knock at the door.

I answered. A waiter was standing there with a couple bottles of rum. I snatched them and slammed the door.

"I have one more question for you, Mr. Catsby," Tucker said, a crazed look in his eyes. Actually, it was the same crazed look that he'd had all day.

"You want to get Reddit up in here?" Catsby asked. "Go ahead: ask me anything."

"Just what do you think you're doing with my wife?"