Death Needs No Invitation

By McCurrach

A bad marriage, worse drinking problem, gambling addiction and dwindling bank account--Hollywood legend Tommy Boyd has finally hit rock bottom. Quickly running out of options, he figures rehab and divorce are his only salvation.

 

True to form, his wife fights back. She's determined to destroy his reputation and take everything

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lazy Day Press
• Release date: Feb 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9798985650631

McCurrach

David and his wife, Pam, sold their bed and breakfast in Fort Myers, Florida in October, 2018. David quickly got to work finishing his first novel and writing five more. Death Needs No Invitation is his first book to go to press. He loves to read fiction with a lot of action which is exactually what he delivers in Death Needs No Invitation. Just for the fun of it, he adds some mystery and a twist. Please let him know what you think of his story at [e-mail].

Book preview

Part I—West Coast

Chapter One

You’re nothing but a worthless bastard.

Worthless? Are you kidding me? I’m worth millions. I’m a movie star, for Christ’s sake.

You’re worthless, as in no redeeming qualities.

I’ll tell you what worthless is, woman. Worthless is a wife that spends most of her waking hours shopping and spending every last cent I’ve got. That’s worthless.

Don’t call me woman. While you’re letting yourself go, I’m just trying to keep up appearances. After all, we’ve got a public image to maintain.

Like hell. You’re nothing but a self-centered piece of shit.

With that, Adrienne reached back and swung her right hand as hard as she could at my face. Her open palm connected with my left cheek.

She said, You can’t talk to your wife like that.

I’ll talk to my wife any damned way I please. Now, get me another drink, woman.

I may have gone a little too far. Granted, I was drunk and I’d had it with her free-spending ways. But I also knew these arguments never ended well.

Just as I was trying to calm down, Adrienne grabbed an African sculpture off the table next to her and swung it like a major league batter. She hit me on my left side, just under my arm.

Damn, that hurt.

She pulled back and was getting ready to deliver a similar blow to my right side when I grabbed her silk blouse and pulled her toward me. She struggled with all the strength she could muster.

I’d had enough and was ready to end this once and for all. I said, That does it. Two can play this game. I let go of her shoulders, balled up my fist and got ready to take a swing.

Before I could follow through, she kicked my feet out from under me. On the way down, I hit my head on the edge of the coffee table. I was out like a light.

Life with Adrienne hadn’t always been like this. I’d met her at a party. She was a struggling young actress, blond hair, blue eyes, a figure that just wouldn’t quit. With her five-foot-seven-inch height next to my six-one, we were the perfect couple. I quickly fell in love with this sexy young woman.

And the sex was legendary. Night after night. Day after day. In the bedroom, the kitchen, the pool. We just couldn’t get enough of each other. I fell hopelessly in love. For some unknown reason, this time, it led to marriage.

Huge mistake. Once the sex started getting a little mundane, Adrienne funneled all that youthful energy into shopping. She could spend money with even greater passion than she made love.

Every day, the chauffeur would carry her from store to store. The purchases were too numerous to fit in the car, so most were delivered by private courier later that day. Soon, the house became too small.

More spending, bigger mansion. Rather than face my rapidly deteriorating financial situation, I picked up my old habits—whiskey and poker. Between the two of us, we could go through tens of thousands of dollars a week.

Every now and then, I’d get a contract for a new film. Ten of millions of dollars would briefly fill our coffers. Taxes would take a bite. Adrienne would take a bite and I would quickly take care of what was left.

The money was definitely a problem. I had made hundreds of millions of dollars as an actor. I had blown tens of millions of dollars on drinking and gambling. Adrienne had spent tens of millions on clothes, shoes, jewelry and other accessories.

And then, there were the arguments. Over the years, they’d become more and more physical. And if that wasn’t enough, my own wild habits started to wear on my mind and body as well. Combine all that with getting older and I quickly was losing my boyish charm.

The film offers became fewer and further between. I was surprised I missed my work so much. I’d really thought it was just a means to an end. Lately, I’d come to realize that acting was my life. Adrienne and everything else just got in the way.

That sobering revelation should have caused me to stop drinking and playing cards, but as every drunk knows, it’s not that easy. I did begin to think the cause of all my problems was Adrienne. I believed with Adrienne gone, my problems would magically disappear. Boy, was I wrong.

Chapter Two

After yet another three-day drinking and gambling binge, I woke up and had no idea where I was or why I was there. Totally confused, I couldn’t believe my business manager, Henry Hardcastle, was sitting beside me. I thought a second and asked, Are we dead?

Henry replied, No. Why would you say that?

Everything is white—you, me, the bed, the lamp, the nightstand, the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Everything is white. Like Heaven.

Do you think you’ll go to Heaven when you die?

Maybe.

That might be wishful thinking.

Are you a specter?

A what?

You know, an apparition?

Huh?

Ghost, you idiot. Are you a ghost?

No. I’m as alive as you are.

So, we’re not dead?

No. Not by a long shot.

I don’t feel very alive.

That’s why you’re in a hospital.

Am I sick? Injured?

A mental hospital.

Am I crazy?

In an alcohol-induced way, yes, you are crazy.

Did I check myself in?

You did.

That’s got to be madness. Can I check myself out?

Not hardly.

How does it work?

You can’t leave until a doctor says you’re ready for the next step.

What’s that?

Rehab.

How long will that take?

Generally, twenty-eight days, but there’s no guarantee.

Who’s paying for all this?

Your agent.

My agent? How come he’s paying?

He did the math.

What math?

The math—ten percent of nothing is nothing.

He’s made a fortune off of me.

Of course he has. That’s what he does. But he’s been working his tail off for you for the last eighteen months and hasn’t made a dime. Ten percent of nothing is nothing.

So, he wants me to get back to work?

You got it, Einstein.

The stay in the psychiatric hospital dragged on for two weeks. If I wasn’t crazy when I checked myself in, I was certainly crazy when I left.

Rehab was paradise compared to the mental hospital. I bonded with the group of men and women. We attended at least three Alcoholics Anonymous meetings a week, read the Big Book, got sponsors and participated in counseling and group sessions night and day.

Being the lifelong drunk I was, I ended up repeating the entire twenty-eight-day session. When I finally left rehab, I truly believed my alcohol problems were behind me.

Making the adjustment to normal life shouldn’t be too tough. I would continue going to AA meetings and studying the Big Book. I planned to touch base with my sponsor every night.

Chapter Three

The time had finally come. Henry picked me up at rehab to drive me home. As I left the facility, I had very few possessions and a single slip of paper. I’d written myself a to-do list. The list was very short, with only two items on it.

Number one was to dump Adrienne. I don’t really feel there’s any explanation needed.

Number two was to get a handle on my finances. Until I took care of number one, I didn’t have a chance with number two.

I had my priorities straight. My mind was clear and I was laser-focused.

I opened the massive front door to find Adrienne surrounded by our Hollywood friends.

She had planned a welcome home celebration and was holding a magnum with a bow on it. Our friends each raised a flute of champagne to me. A totally inappropriate celebration for a recovering alcoholic, but that was alright. I had a different type of celebration in mind.

I knew what I had to do. I smiled and grabbed the magnum of champagne and hurled it into the multilayered cake. Pieces of cake and frosting flew everywhere. It was like a hand grenade exploding deep inside the fondant-encased masterpiece. The guests scattered in every direction and quickly found their way to the nearest exit.

I then walked up to Adrienne and said, Time to pack your bags and leave, sweetheart. You’re going to need to find a new sugar daddy. I’m done.

I had no idea how disastrous those words would end up being. Adrienne was about to give me a little indication.

She yelled, You want me to leave, old man?

I yelled back, You’re nothing but trouble—a total disaster. You’ve ruined my life. You’ve spent almost all of my money. You’ve sucked all the joy out of living. You have no reason to stay. Now, get your stuff and get out.

You think it’s as easy as that? You think all you have to do is say ‘get out’ and I’ll turn tail and run? Ha. You totally underestimate me. You think I’ve been a thorn in your side up until now? You have no idea how easy it will be to totally ruin you.

I was unfazed. I still felt that youthful invulnerability. She was nothing. I was everything. Anyway, she had signed a prenup, so what was the big problem?

The first thing the next morning, I summoned my lawyer, Tyler McAdams. As managing partner of his own firm, he charged twelve hundred dollars an hour for his legal services. The time started when he left his mansion. But I never considered the cost. He was an old friend.

After pleasantries, I jumped right in. Tyler, I want a divorce.

I can draw up the paperwork this afternoon. We’ll file first thing tomorrow morning.

Thanks.

California was a no-fault divorce state. Getting a divorce was really as simple as that. The problems came when money was involved.

I thought a second and said, Our prenup is bulletproof, right?

Absolutely. The best money could buy.

It should be. The total bill to prepare and execute the prenup had been over ten thousand dollars. Turns out the prenup was not bulletproof. Not that I had a fortune to get, but Adrienne didn’t know how broke I really was and would attack me with every weapon she could muster.

That same morning, she was meeting with her own attorney, Franklin Pierce. Frankie wasn’t the most reputable member of his profession. In fact, he would try anything and everything to win. The law never got in his way. Truth be told, the law was never even a consideration. Frankie was unscrupulous and ruthless. I was in for the fight of my life.

As usual, the only thing on Adrienne’s mind was my money. She started her session by asking Frankie, Do you think we’ve got a chance of getting Tommy’s fortune?

Baby, we’ve got more than a chance. We hold all the cards. Tommy’s the one that should be worried.

What about the prenup?

Sweetie, it’s just a piece of paper. The question you should be asking is ‘What about the jury?’

The jury?

Exactly. They’re going to be the ones to give us all that money. They’re not lawyers. They’re not judges. They’re people—just like you and me. They decide a case based on their feelings, their emotions.

But what about the law?

The law sounds good—seems important—but the law doesn’t decide cases. People decide cases. And these cases are about other people and the problems between them. The jury will solve all our problems, but it’s going to take a lot of work.

You’ve lost me, Frankie.

Don’t worry, sweetie. Trust me. I’ll take care of everything.

Adrienne felt a lot more confident after her talk with Frankie. She wasn’t sure why she felt that way, but now she knew everything was going to work out just fine.

Chapter Four

With Adrienne gone, I was ready to address the second item on my list. I wanted to sit down with Henry to review my financial situation. Sure, we’d had lots of talks about that over the years, but generally I was too drunk to understand, yet alone remember. That, combined with the fact I’d never really had a head for numbers, meant I’d retained almost nothing. Most of the time, I didn’t even care about the money. I just enjoyed the lifestyle. Now, I knew that was all coming to an end.

****

I’d met Henry twenty years ago when we were both kids in high school—Hollywood High, no less. The students there ranged from unbelievably wealthy to dirt-poor, with the majority somewhere in between. Henry and I both fell into the somewhere in between.

My other friends tended to come from the extremely wealthy side of the equation. I visited them in mansions that were more lavish than anything I’d ever imagined. Butlers would greet me at the door. Cooks would prepare anything I was in the mood to eat. The entire staff would bow to my every desire. I could see how people could get used to all this pampering.

I went to acting school after college. I thought my personal road to riches was through motion pictures. Turns out, I was right. Henry always wanted to go into accounting. He got his undergraduate degree and went straight into a master’s program. He passed the CPA exams on his first try.

After a couple of years, he found accounting a little routine and decided to enter the world of investments. He maintained a small accounting practice while he developed a large financial management clientele.

Meanwhile, I was getting bigger and bigger parts in films. By the time we reconnected, I was studying a script for my first leading role. We ran into each other at our ten-year high school reunion.

I was already fairly well known. I don’t think anyone really expected me to show.

I spotted Henry immediately, walked right up to him and said, How’s it hanging?

Tommy, I’m surprised to see you here. I really didn’t think you’d have time for all this silliness.

I made time tonight. I wanted to see how many of the babes were still as hot as they were in high school.

And to take advantage of the free booze while I scoped them out. I’d always been a heavy-drinking ladies’ man—even in high school.

I continued, How many of these babes do you think are married? How about boob jobs? I say at least half of them.

Henry and I always had a lot of fun, and tonight was no exception. I seemed to be having a just slightly better time, though.

Once I was recognized, the girls were all over me. Henry became lost in the crowd. I left that evening with one of the most popular girls in our class—and hands down the most beautiful. I couldn’t believe she was still single. Henry probably thought he’d never ever see me again. I had other plans.

I can imagine his surprise when his phone rang a couple of days later and it was me. I’m sure he could hardly believe it.

After hellos, he asked, How was Molly?

Just as shallow as the rest of them. We did have a couple of days of mind-blowing sex, but then she lost her sizzle. You know how women are.

In reality, I knew Henry had no idea. He was getting ready to leave for lunch and I suggested we meet. I may have sounded a little like I’d been drinking, but that shouldn’t scare him away.

For all my wealth and notoriety, one of my favorite foods was hot dogs. Nothing too exotic—just a good dog with a generous helping of mustard. We met at Happy Dogs for lunch.

I ordered the special—two hot dogs and a mango drink for five dollars. Henry thought that sounded as good as anything and got the same.

Once we’d prepared our dogs, we stood at one of the high tables and enjoyed our feast. I wanted to know more about what he was doing for a living. Henry had never thought his dull existence would be that interesting to a movie star, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Finally, he’d had enough and just asked, Tommy, why do you want to know so much about my boring work?

Because I’m thinking about making you a job offer.

Henry was surprised. The thought had never occurred to him. He probably wondered what he could possibly do for me. He had no idea, so he just asked, What would you want me to do?

I’d like you to be my business manager.

Do you really think I have the qualifications?

I do.

How so?

I trust you. Do you have any idea how many stars have been robbed blind by their business managers?

I don’t have any idea.

Tons. Trust is the number one issue. That, combined with your strong accounting and investment background, makes you the obvious choice.

What kind of money are we talking about?

To manage or be paid?

Both, now that you mention it.

Right now, I’m worth a little less than five million dollars. Someday, I expect that amount to be in the hundreds of millions of dollars. I’d pay you seventy thousand a year to start. What do you say?

The salary was reasonable—the opportunity quite exciting. He took a few minutes to pretend to think it over. I saw right through him.

You can’t possibly think that’s not a great deal?

Of course not. You’re on.

Believe it or not, that was almost sixteen years ago. Henry and I had been through a lot. I married Adrienne. My drinking and gambling got worse and worse. The movie parts got bigger and better. Over the years, I had made almost five hundred million dollars. I know—that’s a shitload of money. Unfortunately, Adrienne and I managed to spend almost the entire amount. Of course, she had spent considerably more than her share.

Henry moved in with us about ten years ago. We had a huge mansion and he had a small apartment. He was spending all his time at our place anyway. It just made more sense for all of us if he lived here. Over the years, he’d had a number of girlfriends, but at the present time, he didn’t have anyone special in his life.

****

Henry and I had met in the kitchen for breakfast. When we were done, we made our way through the debris of yesterday’s failed celebration. The maid would be coming the next day to clean up. We walked into my study, shut the door and sat down.

All of a sudden, Henry blurted out. Tommy, you’re almost broke.

How could that be? I’ve made hundreds of millions of dollars. Did you make bad investments? Maybe you’re taking a little cut under the table?

No, Tommy. Our investments have yielded good returns. The salary you pay me is more than adequate.

What is it, then? How could this possibly be?

The spending. Between you, your wife and your lifestyle, hundreds of millions are gone forever.

How about this house?

Probably worth around thirty-two million dollars. You still owe about four. We’re going to have to sell it just to stay afloat.

What about me making another movie?

That would temporarily solve all your problems.

What do you mean temporarily?

Adrienne could be a problem.

Tyler says we’re bulletproof.

I don’t think she’s going to play fair.

Why would you say that?

Just her background and her friends. She comes from a totally different world. Did you know she’s been married before?

No. Are you serious?

I am. The guy was a real scumbag and that was the world she lived in. Do you know anything about her before that?

I don’t, but I know she was a woman with amazing sexual talents.

I can see how that would have attracted you. All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t be surprised by anything she and her low-life attorney, Frankie, do.

I’m sure Tyler can handle them.

Probably, but you can’t afford Tyler.

Of course, I can. He’s been my attorney for almost fifteen years.

Did you have any idea what he charged for his recent morning visit?

No idea.

Does thirty-six hundred dollars sound reasonable?

Not at all. He didn’t do anything.

Of course not. Typically, that’s the case.

I wanted more specifics on the money. How much cash do we have? Right now?

Before or after Tyler’s bill?

After.

Currently, you have about two million in cash.

What about investments we can easily liquidate?

At best, another twelve million.

What about the rest of my investments?

That’s everything.

That’s not nearly as much as I thought I had. How much is the mortgage payment on this monstrosity?

Almost six thousand a month plus property taxes, insurance and upkeep.

What’s the total monthly cost?

Just a little over ten thousand.

The money’s not going to last long, is it?

No.

What do you recommend?

Let’s sell the house and get something cheaper or a rental. Then, let’s level with Tyler and see if he can recommend another attorney you can actually afford.

I’m okay with both those things. I think we should let the staff go with appropriate severances. We can get a landscaping company to maintain the grounds. How are your kitchen skills?

We can get by. What are the prospects for another movie?

I’ll call my agent this afternoon.

Great. I’ll figure out the severances.

I’m going to spend some time in the gym and then go for a swim.

I’d say you’ve still got the better job.

You got that straight. Let’s get going.

Chapter Five

The following morning, I called Tyler. I told him about my financial problems and asked if he knew someone I could afford. He recommended an aggressive younger attorney named Piper Montgomery. She had successfully handled a number of celebrity divorces. She was also very familiar with the ways of the near-criminal attorneys like Frankie. Best of all, her hourly rate was three hundred and fifty dollars for pretrial work and seven hundred for the trial itself. Tyler’s rate for a trial was twenty-four hundred an hour.

I interviewed her. I tried my best to ignore the fact that her beauty took my breath away and she was one of the sexiest women I’d ever met. Henry had emphasized the importance of maintaining a professional relationship at least until the divorce was final. I assured him I would try my hardest. He told me that wasn’t good enough. I understood.

A few days later, Adrienne sued me for divorce, claiming physical and mental cruelty and totally disregarding the prenup, which she claimed was unenforceable in court. I started making daily trips to Piper’s office to save paying her to come to me. I was anxious to help her develop