Rick Cantelli, P.I. (Rick Cantelli, P.I. Detectives Book 1) Read online

  “No.” Karen blinked back tears and looked away. “He leaves pictures of me in private settings everywhere… even on my bed. I have an installed security system my sister thinks should stop him from getting in the house, but it didn’t. I’m considering having one of your firm’s top of the line setups installed. I’m scared all the time now. Can you help me?”

  Probably not. No matter what we do, our clients can’t be protected 24/7. Our systems are designed to stop random break-ins. Add to it the fact Karen’s a celebrity, out in public frequently, and we have the trifecta of security nightmares. Then we come to our real problem: clients lie. We ask them if they’ve had problems with anyone in particular, and they lie. “We do our best, but can you give us an idea of when you first had this problem, and who you may have angered around the time you found the picture?”

  Karen stands, arms crossed, shrugging. “I have no idea. Everyone loves me.”

  Lie. “No, they don’t. Sometimes these things are triggered by the smallest of slights…” uh oh, I smell a rat. I walk over to the window. I see Toby watching me out of the corner of my eye. I smile and take a deep breath. I am so going to own Lois over this one.

  Karen walks over to me, putting a hand on my arm. “Did you think of something, Mr. Cantelli?”

  “Yeah, I have. Sit down, Karen. Let’s have a talk.” I may put Lois on alarm installs after I wrap this puppy up. I guide Karen over to her couch and sit next to her. She looks at me with award winning sincerity.

  “You’re scaring me, Mr. Cantelli.”

  “Call me Rick. I suddenly remembered a few things. First off, I haven’t seen you listed for a movie, TV show, or play in two years. Secondly, I-”

  “I don’t see what my career has to do with this.”

  “Let me finish.” I didn’t mind sitting through a few more award winning gestures, but I needed time to get back down to the office and skewer my partner. “Secondly, I recognize this script. We have a celebrity, a big scary bodyguard already in your employ, a sister, and an unknown boogeyman threat. The only reason you’ll be at the Grammy’s is they invite past and present stars. See where I’m going with this?”

  There it is. The curtain closed and now we’re sitting backstage with the grips. A familiar feral sneer spread along Karen’s mouth. Familiar because I’d seen it grace the face of my partner Lois. They must have inherited it from Dad.

  “Not bad, Cantelli.” Karen edged away, leaning back against the corner of the couch.

  At least we might get a security install and an upfront payment on my escort role. “You needed some publicity, and read where your sister’s firm is connected to three killings through me. Who better to get at your side on the red carpet than a killer bodyguard, looking after the poor movie star with a dangerous stalker after her?”

  She waves her hand in a very familiar dismissive gesture. Daddy DNA again. “What’s wrong with the script? Real life many times imitates art. So what if I play Whitney Houston and you play Kevin Costner in our own little remake of ‘The Bodyguard’. You’re being paid, so what’s the problem?”

  “You can’t sing, and I’m taller than Kevin Costner.”

  Karen starts laughing. That’s a good sign. She has a sense of humor. She’ll need it when Lois gets wind of this. “I can too sing. You’re okay, Rick. So, would you like to do the red carpet photo shoot with me? You look better than I expected. I think we’d make a great couple on the carpet.”

  I start to stand away from the couch when Toby’s hand appears on my shoulder pressuring me down. In seconds, Toby’s on his knees in my reverse finger lock no one can resist, while I wave the startled Karen back. “Don’t know what you’re thinkin’ there Toby-wan. I don’t like being handled. When I let you go, you go over across the room and stay very still, okay?”

  Toby nods. I release him and put some distance between us. I’m old, not stupid. I get cranky when goons start assuming I’m some old geezer they can push around. I can see Toby remembers my Mace comment. He regains his feet slowly, working his fingers, and retreats to the other side of the room.

  “I’ll be in touch, Karen. If Lois doesn’t mind me playing Costner to your Houston on the carpet, then I expect you’ll send a car for me tomorrow. Is a black tux okay for the thing?”

  “I…I’ll walk you to the door, Rick.” Karen gestures at Toby to stay put. He doesn’t look too interested in following me out anyway. We make our way to the door. “A black tux will be fine. Thanks for breaking this to Lois for me. Tell her I’m sorry I wasn’t candid about what I was doing.”

  It will be my pleasure. “I’m sure Lois will understand.” Not! Then Karen gets romantic. Wow, we’re really doing the script all the way? She wraps her arms in a smooth sultry gesture around my neck. In moments, she’s writhing against me, a heated exchange I’m not expecting. Karen breaks away with a stunned look finally, her hand at her mouth. Man, that’s an Oscar winning expression there. I open the door “Nice goodbye. I’m sure Lois will be in touch.”

  “Rick… I…”

  I hold up my hand. “No, don’t ruin the moment. We’ll always have Paris, baby. There, how’s that?”

  Karen giggles at my Bogey line from Casablanca. “You’re funny, Rick. I hope Lois lets you come out and play tomorrow.”

  “She will. It’s just business with Lois.”

  * * *

  I watch Lo’s face as I’m making my report on the infamous celebrity sister case with pure unadulterated joy coursing through me. I have to scrunch my toes to channel the howling laughter threatening to ruin my deadpan report. I finish with a grand gesture. “That’s it, Lo. What do you think?”

  Lois shoves away from her desk, knocking files off onto the floor while reaching into her desk drawer. She pulls her Glock 9 mil out and starts around the desk. I block her way, turning sideways, so as to protect my more susceptible parts. “Don’t even think about it, Lo. What the hell’s the matter with you?”

  “Get out of my way, Cantelli, unless you want a round through your foot! I’m about to lose a family member. I need some alone time.”

  Uh oh. Man, she’s steaming. I think I’ve underestimated the underlying sisterly animosity. “No can do. We might collect a big install fee, a huge escort fee, and we’ll have our agency all over the entertainment pages with a zillion dollars in free publicity. Best of all, there’s no threat.”

  The light of retribution fades into a snarling grimace. She turns away, shoving the Glock back in her drawer. Picking up her folders off the floor, Lois points a finger of warning at me before sitting back down. “Not one word! You hear me? Not one word!”

  I pantomimed zipping my lip and retreated to the door. My work here is done.

  “Rick!”

  I turn back, erasing the smile before Lois goes mental on me.

  “If you bang my sister tomorrow night… there will be blood!”

  Okay, I’ll play. “You’re just mad because your sister thinks I’m hot like Kevin Costner. I can’t be both Don Juan Cantelli and Celibate Cantelli, Lo.”

  “Bang that sleazy movie star sister of mine and you’ll be Dick-less Cantelli.”

  My exit is quick and silent, before I start laughing, and end up dick-less before I bang her sister. I’m thinking maybe some FaceTime with Lois on my iPhone in Karen’s bedroom during the afterglow. Heh, heh, heh… this will be so good.

  “You FaceTime me from my sister’s bedroom, Spanky, and no place on earth will be safe for you!” The damn mind reader screams at me through the office door.

  That’s just… disturbing. It’s like I’ve been married to her for thirty years. I need one of those mind control blocking helmets like that X-man enemy wears: Magneto. “I’m telling Frank you’re cheating on him in my head, Lo!”

  That causes snorting amusement in her office. I turn away and get the smile erased from my face by Ms. Fontenot standing between my office and me with hands on hips. “Hey, Shell, what’s the problem?”

  “Did I hear right? Stev
e told me you’re banging that hooker you went to school with, and now you’re banging that movie star?”

  I spot Steve scurrying for the exit. “You can run, peeper, but you can’t hide!”

  “Damn, Rick, what’s up with you? Strike that. What are you trying to prove?”

  This is interesting. I’m the new player. “I think we need to keep our more formal arrangement, Ms. Fontenot. Let’s leave the interrogations to the professionals, like that harpy I have for a partner.”

  She remains blocking my way. “Come over to dinner at my place on Sunday, Rick.”

  “I can’t. I’m banging my ex-hooker girlfriend tonight, and a movie star Saturday night. I don’t know when I’ll be back home on Sunday, or if I’ll have the strength to make it for dinner at your place.”

  Shelly laughs, nodding her head. “I deserve that. Come on Sunday at five if you have the energy. I’m sorry I acted like an idiot over that warehouse gig we were on.”

  I slipped around her. “I will consider your generous invitation, Ms. Fontenot. Can I bring the ex-hooker?”

  I hurried into my office, hearing the startled gasps, followed by laughter. It’s neat when you get ready to enter your seventh decade, and you just don’t care anymore about the game. You can take a few at bats, go 0 for 4 or 4 for 4, and it won’t make one damn bit of difference. I guess there is something to that cliché about this being the golden years.

  * * *

  A greeter opened the limousine door for Karen and I. She looked fantastic. She went with simple, conservatively sexy, in off the shoulder black with low back, and tight above the knee. Her blonde hair hung in waves over her shoulders. I played the part of bodyguard like people are used to seeing from the Secret Service, with earpiece, and eyes roving everywhere for enemies, with a look of foreboding pasted on my face. We walked. We posed. Karen answered questions by the media presence about the imaginary stalker and the imaginary danger he put her in.

  Then it happened. A guy raced at us from behind. I heard the extra crowd noise, mixed with screams behind me. I turned. The guy had a bucket of something and no one was stopping him. I did. I met him with a chest high sidekick that planted his ass on the promenade, wearing the bucket of goop he had planned for Karen. He only protested for a second before I lit him up with my stun-gun until I was satisfied he wasn’t going anywhere. One look back at Karen, and I could tell she hadn’t planned on getting slimed. I flipped him over, and plastic tied his hands behind his back as the security force arrived. It was great theater. The crowd roared their approval with applause, and every video device available captured the event. I knew one thing: Lois would dig that incident. I played Kevin Costner, and retreated to my client, putting a protective arm around her. I led the way to our seats.

  Karen took a deep breath while we moved along. “That was scary, Rick. Thank you. What was he going to dump on me?”

  “It smelled like pig guts to me. I’m just glad it wasn’t you behind the attempt.”

  We sat down in our star seats.

  “How did you know I wasn’t?”

  I shrugged. “Common sense. No way would you pick getting slimed as an attention grabber… shot maybe… but no way slimed.”

  “How about this then for an attention grabber?” Karen initiated a kiss that, heartfelt or not, was damn good.

  * * *

  My iPhone played its ringtone version of ‘House of the Rising Sun’. I retrieved the phone from the nightstand, saw it was Lois calling me at 8AM. Karen shifted next to me without waking. I considered the FaceTime opportunity, and turned off the phone. The covers had shifted down away from Karen’s body, and I began to get some Golden Years ideas.

  Chapter 4: Retribution

  “Why can’t I stay, Rick?”

  We’re sitting out in the sun on very comfortable padded chairs, at a small table with huge umbrella shading us. A breeze blew in off the ocean with just the right amount of salty coolness. We sipped our iced rum and lemonades, listening to the ocean waves glide in and out of the sandy beach with a very real degree of comfort with each other. I glanced over at my beach houseguest with a slight smile of contentment.

  “I gave my word to your sister I wouldn’t be sleeping with you. I haven’t broken my word since I gave it.”

  Karen Bastille, my partner Lois’s half sister movie star, made a clucking noise, apparently insinuating I was a big chicken. She was right. “We’ve been seeing each other for weeks. I thought when you vacationed in your firm’s beach house for the week things would be different. Besides, you’ve done everything to me but sleep with me since the night of the Grammys. Don’t you dare play that used up old P.I. card on me either.”

  That gives me a chuckle. “Look, Karen, after your successful publicity stunt using me as ‘The Bodyguard’, you landed a picture deal. That in itself should make life easier for you. As a plus, the exposure has spiked our security/investigation business, which made Lois happy. At least after the media gave the business a boost, she didn’t shoot us after we slept together. After ‘The Bodyguard’ gig wore off, and you inked a nice picture deal with a possible TV series on the horizon, Lois gave me a week in our beach house. Yesterday was nice, and today was even better. What’s the problem?”

  Karen reached over to run a hand over my chest. “Maybe I wanted another wakeup call like you gave me that first morning. Lois said you FaceTimed me.”

  Wow, Lois was pissed. “She lied. I turned the phone off, and enjoyed the wakeup call. Your sister and I enjoy a rather offbeat partnership. I did consider a modest FaceTiming episode to make her mental, but I didn’t. I should have known she’d call you and tell you I did. I’m surprised you kept seeing me after ‘Bodyguard’ hours if you thought I’d pulled a stunt like that.”

  “Maybe I didn’t care.”

  “And…” I prompted.

  Karen giggled. “Okay, I wanted to make Lois mental too. Have you two ever… you know?”

  “Never. Lois has been married to Frank longer than I’ve known her. They were high school sweethearts, and still are. Let me give you some advice – don’t mess with Lois. Everyone has a skeleton or two in their closet. If you want them sitting with you at the next media event, just play ‘mean girl’ with her. She invented ‘mean girl’. Mean girl wannabes kneel and lower their heads with palms up when they see Lois.”

  Karen laughed. “Okay… okay… no messing with Sister Lois. You really like her, don’t you?”

  I sip my drink, and ponder the question. Lois is family in a way Karen couldn’t even dream of. “Yep. We get each other. She has two daughters living in the San Francisco Bay Area. They call me Uncle Rick. She’d Mace them if they called you Aunt Karen, and one of them is pregnant with her first grandchild.”

  I grinned as Karen went into a near drink spew through her nose at my remark. It took her a few moments to compose herself. I sipped my rum/lemonade again with a sigh. This week off at the beach house was just what I needed after the last couple months.

  “Lo…Lois also told me you had a girlfriend at the office, and you were dating some ex-hooker,” Karen said finally. “I didn’t believe her.”

  Yep, the queen of the ‘mean girls’ strikes again. “See what I mean about the skeletons? She’ll rearrange the details to fit her story too. Lo was talking about an old classmate of mine from long ago that nearly got me killed. She instigated one of the stories you read concerning the drug dealers I had to deal with.”

  “You mean kill,” Karen corrected me. “And you kept seeing her?”

  I shrugged. “It’s a process.”

  “What about the office romance?”

  I sipped rum again, remembering Shelly’s angry call the Sunday after the Grammys. “Never actually started a relationship with the secretary Lo mentioned to you. Shelly uninvited me to Sunday dinner after Lois put two and two together about our Saturday night, and gave Shelly a complete story about the two of us she invented her own details for. I think part of the diatribe I received in the uninvit
ed phone call claimed I was in a drunken orgy with you and my old schoolmate.”

  Karen nodded. “Definitely no ‘mean girl’ competitions with my sister. Are things okay now at the office? Did you explain the truth to this Shelly?”

  “Things are fine at the office, mostly because I didn’t explain anything. Shelly’s a great secretary, and I’m too old for her anyway… you too for that matter. With Shelly, she’d eventually decide I wasn’t too old for her, and our office relationship would get flushed. This way we’re back to Mr. Cantelli and Ms. Fontenot once again.”

  “Most guys your age, screwing around, want twenty year old playthings.”

  That set off my laugh track, which abruptly ended a moment later.

  “Cantelli!”

  It was Lois. “Oh crap!”

  I turned around as the naïve Karen giggled. She giggled because she still didn’t understand the term ‘mean girl’. Lois was standing at the side of the beach house, hands on hips, with a very worried Shelly next to her. Lois is about five and a half feet tall of chiseled dynamite in case I haven’t been forthcoming with descriptions – shoulder length dyed dark hair, dark eyes, and an older looking Jillian Michaels body. Even with a tricky back at sixty, if Ms. Michaels ever went toe to toe with Lois, the poor souls on ‘The Biggest Loser’ would get their revenge in spades. She turned her withering Gorgonesque stare on to the giggler.

  “What the hell do you think you’re chortling at, you scheming, used up, no talent, Lauren Bacall wannabe? What happen, your broom stall out over the sea? Haul your latex ass out of my sight before I kick you so hard our dead Dad flips over in his grave!”

  I saw in the stunned features of my companion she finally understood the term ‘mean girl’. She looked at me, stashed her accouterments into the beach bag she had, and fled with a small wave, circling in the opposite direction away from Lois. Luckily, there weren’t any paparazzi hanging with Karen yet to record her ignominious flight. I turned away from the Gorgon and continued to imbibe my now less satisfying drink.