[Steven Lyle Jordan]

3: From vague to specific

I looked at Gail, and I was gratified to see that his explanation made as little sense to her. Gail had the presence of mind to say, “That’s not much help, Martin.”

“I don’t mean I screwed her,” Martin replied, shaking his head again. “I mean… well, yeah, I did… but it was… and when I did, I… see, there were these unexpected taxes, that I couldn’t… so I had to… I screwed her.”

I had absolutely no choice, but to cradle my elbow with one hand so my other hand could cradle my head. I was beginning to conclude that knowing Gail and having the greatest sex in the world wasn’t worth being exposed to people like this. Or maybe… it was close.

“Jesus, Martin,” Gail finally said, “will you just tell us what happened?”

Martin hung his head, then lifted it and examined the ceiling, then turned it and searched the walls. Presently, he said, “Es found out I conned her out of her fair share of the last video.”

Now we were getting somewhere, though I wasn’t sure I liked the direction. I looked at Gail. “Video?”

Gail rolled her eyes at me. “It’s not what you think.”

“We’ll see about that.” I looked at Martin. “Go on. How did you con this girl?”

Martin shrugged. “Got her drunk, had sex, and got her to sign a contract she was too trashed to read.”

I had to give him credit. He hadn’t sugar-coated it. “But she found out. And did what?”

“Well, she showed up and brought some kid off the street with her. I mean, not a kid… just… off the street. Wanted me to try to sell her on working for me.”

“Doing more videos?” I asked, sharing the same looks with Gail.

Martin shrugged and nodded at the same time (neat when you get to see it, actually). “She turned out to be a strung-out junkie… no one I could use. But while I talked to the kid, Es had gotten into the big vault and hauled ass with a bunch of tapes, and contracts. That was last week. Didn’t realize it until the other day… I haven’t been back there much this week, and I didn’t realize it had been opened. Then she called me, and told me to pay her what I owed her, or she’d go to the cops with the tapes, plus accuse me of rape and coercion.”

I nodded, partially impressed that the word “coercion” had even managed to get out of the surfer-boy’s mouth. “So, I guess these are nasty porn vids, with, I dunno, barnyard animals or—”

“Mike!” Gail snapped, surprising me with her venom directed at me. “We didn’t do any illegal porn films! It wasn’t porn at all, for God’s sake!”

I stared at her. Hard. After about five seconds staring back, Gail said, “I swear, we didn’t do any porn!”

“Well,” I said, “what else could get him blackmailed over it?” This was not a rhetorical question. If they weren’t discussing illegal porn, I didn’t know what else could get them into blackmail-level trouble. “Come on… what are the films about?”

“They’re instructional films,” Martin replied. “On yoga techniques.”

I stared again. Harder. “Yoga,” I repeated.

“Yoga,” Gail replied. After a pause that I was trying to make pregnant as possible, she added, “Okay… not just a traditional production.”

Here it came. “Let me guess: Naked.” After a moment, Gail nodded. She didn’t seem to want to look me in the eye. “What else?”

“Couples,” Martin supplied. “Intimate.”

“So: Intimate couples yoga, in the nude,” I summed up. When neither of them contradicted me, I said, “And that’s not illegal?”

“Not with no sexual contact,” Martin replied, “it’s not.”

“Per se,” Gail added.

“What?” I sighed.

“Some of us models were… young… when we did the—”

“Intimate couples yoga, in the nude, with minors,” I summed up. “That’s illegal.”

Gail nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Lord luv a duck,” I said.

“What?” Martin said.

“Huh?” Gail said. “Did you say—”

“No,” I said quickly. “Let’s stay on topic, here! So, Esmeralda stole tapes showing some of your minors… and what? Proof of age contracts?” Martin nodded. “That I suppose won’t stand up to a moment’s scrutiny?” He nodded again. “Can you pay her off?”

Martin shook his head. “I already used the money to pay the taxes I owed, man.”

“Is there anything else he can do?” Gail asked.

I looked at them both, as I contemplated the possibilities as I knew them. Finally I crossed my hands across my chest, and said the only thing that would come to me.

“He can start packing. I hear Mexico can be nice.”