“His father, Samuel Conti, was a con artist and possibly an amateur hitman, which ultimately got him imprisoned. Married to a Vegas showgirl who took off with a blackjack dealer when the kid was five. Raised his son, Harry, and introduced him into his life of crime at an early age. Dad went with a lounge lizard who introduced the kid to the world of entertainment including prostitution. Started his own talent agency when daddy got caught for stiffing the wrong person. Was 19 when he moved to LA. The ‘talent’ he represents is a mere half step above a prostitute, much like our gal Daisy. He worked in Houston for a while and that’s how he met her. Last couple years, he’s been working Phoenix, finding recording artists for Desert Recording. He only brings them young female singers, which is a bit suspicious in itself. Strange also is that once they record, some of these young female singers are never heard from again.”
“Human trafficking,” Lou said as he came back into the room. “That phone number belongs to Diego Morelos, the head of a human trafficking gang out of New York with ties to a well known drug cartel out of Mexico City.”
“Oh my gosh. What have I gotten involved in?” Sean exclaimed.
“What I can’t figure is why the big deal over Sean’s music?” Erin asked rubbing her temples, a habit she did when trying to figure out a complex mystery. A tell she had even as a little girl.
The phone in the suite rang interrupting any contemplating that was going on. Brad answered, “Sure, we’ll be right there.”
“The girls are ready for dinner?” Erin said sensing who was on the other end of the line with her psychic abilities. “Frankly, so am I.”
Again they had cocktails on the patio and an exquisite dinner. Lou, Brad, Erin and Sean excused themselves to get ready for their outing at the titty bar, La Pulque. Erin dressed in a southwest skirt and blouse with a Mexican theme. She and Sean were to wait in the car as backup just in case the undercover men ran into trouble.
“That’s quite a sexy outfit there Erin,” Sean observed while they listened to the loud noise of the bar over their earbuds.
“Well, let’s hope I don’t have to use it to go inside and help the guys. If that does happen, remember you are to stay in the car and become the driver. If you see any of us come running out start the engine and get ready to zoom to the door.”
“This is like playing an active part in that old Magnum PI show.”
“Only this isn’t a TV show and the bad guys kill for real. That and we don’t have a hot red car like Magnum.”
“Next undercover mission we rent one and charge it to the client. Trust me mother can afford it.”
“Only problem with that is that it’s hard to be inconspicuous with a red Ferrari 308 GTS.”
“You know exactly what kind of car it was?”
Eric grinned. “Big fan of hot cars as well as Magnum PI. Maybe why I’m a PI now. He was my idol as a child. Watched all the old reruns.”
“You are something else, Miss Erin Muldoon. Someone I would like to get to know better,” he said sweetly squeezing her hand.
“Hey lovers. Do you mind turning your mics off. It’s making Lou and I all hot and bothered.”
The two in the car turned red and immediately switched off the transmission from their side.
“Our gal is about to come on the stage.”
They listened to her wail out a song that was way above her singing abilities, a song that Whitney Houston made popular. This girl was no Whitney Houston. Erin and Sean looked at one another. “She ain’t no Whitney Houston,” they said in unison and then laughed.
“Have you ever heard her sing before?” Erin asked him.
“No, when I asked her she’d always make an excuse that her throat was sore or she had allergies or something like that. She really can’t sing can she? That’s the reason she’s never gone anywhere. Could that be why she wants my music?”
“Now that I’ve heard her, I don’t think that whoever wants your music, wants it for her. There’s another reason and for the life of me I can’t figure it out but I will.”
“Heads up guys, here she comes. We sent her a note that we wanted to talk to her about possibly doing some recording. She’s bee-lining it to our table. Miss Dawson, I’m Manny Rodriguez. May I introduce my father, Luis Rodriguez, the owner of the record company who may be interested in recording you. You are Mexican, are you not? We’re only interested señoritas with Mexican heritage.”
“Oh, I’m Mexican. Born in a small town just north of Mexico City. Grew up in Texas.”
“Good. So you are a Mexican citizen? Did you ever get your citizenship here?”
“Hey, why should that matter?”
“Just a detail we like to know about ahead of time so that when you’re a well-known singer, we can handle any immigration problems if they arise. Every country wants to claim a big star.”
“Oh.”
“Now Miss Dawson do you have the authority to negotiate a contract or do you have a manager who tends to this tedious part of show business?”
“My manager, Harry, handles all the paperwork.”
“So is this Harry around? We may not be in town for too long. We have some talent to size up in Dallas in a few days.”
“Let me call and see where Harry is. He usually comes by later.”
“That would be great. Father doesn’t like to stay out too late.” Lou gave Brad a dirty look behind Daisy’s back. Erin and Sean laughed in the car.
“Harry, this is Daisy. There are some men at the lounge and they are interested in signing me as a recording artist for their record company. Where are you?” she demanded. “Well, get un-busy or you’re out,” she retorted gruffly to his answer. “He said he’d be here in twenty minutes.”
“In that case Daisy, may I call you Daisy?” She nodded. “When Harry gets here would you like to go next door and have a bite to eat? I don’t know about you but all that legal stuff bores me.”
“Me too,” she said shimming up to him.
“I like to get to know our artists personally. We’re just like one big happy family at Estrella Recording Company.”
Chapter Nine
Harry arrived 25 minutes later smelling like sex and cheap whiskey. He approached the table where Daisy, Brad and Lou were sitting. Introductions were made and Brad and Daisy left to have dinner next door, which in reality was a hole in the wall taco place.
“Why don’t we discuss our business in that booth back there. It’s a bit quieter,” Harry suggested.
“Let’s get right to the point, Mr. Conti. We’re interested in recording your girl Miss Dawson. Of course, we will have to change her name. We only label Latino singers, so Dawson is not going to work.”
“The name’s not a big thing. She used to sing under the name, Mariah Mendoza. Get to the particulars. How much advance? How many albums, etc?”
Lou smiled. “Before we get to that, there’s one more deal breaker. We’re looking for artists who write their own material or are working with a writer. We’re not into rehashing the old stuff, like what she sang tonight. Frankly, Whitney Houston did it a hell of a lot better.”
Harry hesitated a while. “Who sent you? Never heard of Estrella Records.”
Lou peered right into Conti’s eyes and held it for an uncomfortable time. “I think we’re done here. You have a mediocre singer here warbling out songs that other much better singers made into hits. We only considered her for three reasons. She’s Latino, she’s got a decent package and we were told she has fresh new material. The first two reasons are a dime a dozen. Good luck to you Mr. Conti,” he calmly said as he got up to leave.
“Hold on there Luis. We can come through on the third issue. She already has enough new material to record an album and there’s more where that came from.”
Lou sat back. “Do you have a demo of any of this material?”
“It’s in the works. Give me three days and we can have it for you.”
“Three days, that’s it and then we leave town. Do you have a number we can
reach you at?”
Harry handed him his card and wrote his private number on it. “This is a number only a few have.”
“One other thing. I understand Daisy has never released an album. She’s not under contract to anyone is she? Also this new material, we’ll need the proof that she owns it or has a legal agreement to use it.”
“Of course, three days. Have that contract ready and we’ll be in business. This new music is the best I’ve ever heard, so leave the dollar amount blank until you hear it.”
“I hope you’re right, Mr. Conti,” Lou said shaking the clammy hand that was thrust at him. “I’ll gather my son and we’ll be on our way.”
“Your son seemed to be taken with Daisy. Maybe he’d like a little sample of her other talents.”
“We don’t mess with the merchandise. Three days Mr. Conti, not a minute more.”
Brad had heard the conversation through his earbud so he and Daisy were standing outside the bar when Lou exited. “You’d better get this little lady indoors. This night air is not good on vocal cords much less the rest of her exposed body.”
As Lou and Brad walked away, they saw Harry hurrying Daisy into the bar. He was frowning and talking a mile a minute. Erin and Sean were laughing when the imposters hopped into the car. As Erin drove them out of sight, she commented, “You two make quite a team. Lou, I was ready to sign on the dotted line. Brad, you had that little lady ready to follow you home.”
“That was the easy part. Sean, I’ve got a feeling you’re going to be contacted very, very soon.” Then Lou explained, “Next we contact all the recording studios to alert them that someone has stolen your copyrighted music and to be on the lookout for anyone wanting to make a demo using it. Do you have the copyright certificates?”
“My lawyer has all that.”
“Even better. Include the lawyer’s name and number in the letter. In fact it might be worth it to have the lawyer send the letter. First thing tomorrow we go see your lawyer. Is that possible?”
“Not a problem. He’s sweet on my mom. We can always take her with us if we need to. He was in love with her even when my Dad was alive, but never acted on it. His wife died many years ago. His only son handles most of the work at their law firm now. He just works a couple of days to keep his hand in the business.”
“So now we’re going to pimp your mother. This vacation is turning into an interesting adventure,” Erin said with a light enthusiasm to her voice.
Chapter Ten
When they returned to the resort, there was a message from the girls that they were waiting in Dottie’s suite and to meet them there. “Aunt Dottie, did you know you’re going with Laurence Olivier here?” Erin said patting him on the back.
“I hope not, dear. Olivier died in ‘89, I believe. Lou is anything but dead,” she retorted while rubbing him on the shoulder tenderly.
“Tell us what happened. We’ve been antsy waiting for you,” Aunt Birdie said motioning for them to sit down.
“Anyone else want a beer?” Lou asked.
“You sit Laurence. I’ll get drinks,” Brad said tongue in cheek.
Sean started the report by asking his mother if Wade, her lawyer, would be available first thing in the morning.
“Sweetie for me, he’d be available at anytime. It’s only 9:30. I’ll call him now.” She excused herself to Erin’s bedroom in the suite.
Sean smiled and said after she was out of the room, “She doesn’t want us to hear her sweet talk him. She still thinks I don’t know she has sex.”
“I can relate. I can’t believe Brad is old enough to know about the birds and bees,” Aunt Birdie added. “I still see him as that little boy who came to live with me when his dad left.”
“Okay tell us what happened now that we’ve come to the conclusion that all of us are virgins even though I’ve been married five times,” Vi said impatiently.
Lou gave them a rundown of what happened at the titty bar. “They’ve got three days to come up with the demo. None of you go anywhere without one of us with you even if it’s to the pool or coffee shop. Understand? Desperate people do desperate things and when they are not able to get a legitimate recording studio, they’re going to apply some pressure like kidnapping or worse.”
Everyone nodded. The three Marvels had been around enough mob bosses that they knew what some people were capable of. “We’re with you there Lou. Do you think the police should be called in? Sounds like this could get dirty.”
“Not yet, we only have speculation. I have a feeling that Sean is going to get another threat real soon. That’s when we’ll call in the police.”
* * *
The next morning, Sean, Clara and Erin met Wade at the legal firm of O’Malley, Barker and O’Malley. “Clara come in. It was so good hearing from you. Sean how are you?”
“Wade, this is Erin Muldoon. She’s a PI we’ve hired.”
“How do you do, sir?” Erin greeted.
“Please sit. Now what’s all this about? Someone’s trying to steal your original music and threatening your lives? Have you called the authorities?”
Sean explained his encounter with Daisy Dawson and how she stole his music. One corner of Wade’s mouth lifted, knowing all too well what it was like to let yourself be led by your johnson. Wasn’t that what he was doing right now? He could never say no to Clara. Even when his friend Patrick Dooley was still living, he yearned for someone like her in his life.
“Brad, those original works have copyrights. I’ve got the certificates in our safe.”
Erin pulled the threatening note from her bag. They had put it in a ziplock bag so that it could be read without touching it. As Wade read, his face took on a grave expression. “This is enough to call the police. Do you know who sent it? Was it this girl Daisy?”
Erin spoke up, “Actually we think it was her manager. He’s been arrested for fraud, assault and suspicion of murder among other things. His daddy’s in prison now.” She told him about their sting operation the night before at a Mexican topless bar. “That is why we want your firm’s letterhead on the the warning we send to the legitimate recording companies in the area. If our little couple makes the recording, it’s proof that they are stealing. The letters will be proof that Sean acknowledges the theft and has not agreed to give up the rights. Any legal suggestions?”
“I’ll make certain that it’s clear my client has not done so and add a bit more legalese language to it to cover us if they do try to use the material. Lizzy, could you come in please? We’ll send a snail mail letter, but we will also send an official email with a fraud alert from our company’s email account.”
A forty plus year old woman entered carrying a steno pad. She sat in a chair close to the desk while Wade dictated a letter. “Does that sound about right, Erin?”
“I think that should do it. Now they will have to go to an underground studio who, if Sean has to sue or the police get involved, will be liable as well. We gave them a deadline so they have to act quickly.”
“I’ve got to ask. Do you have security guards for Clara and your aunts? Clara, don’t you think you should look into some? I can give you some names of good ones we use occasionally.”
“Oh Wade, do you really think that’s necessary?”
“Yes I do. Clara, I’ve dealt with these kind of people all my life. They’re hungry and greedy and capable of anything.”
“Wade, give me the names, I’ll make sure they’re protected,” Erin assured him. “I’ll have my aunts protected too.”
“Let me pay for it. It’s our fault that they’re threatened as it is,” Clara offered.
“Good. Clara told me last night that your aunts are the Mystical Marvels?”
“That’s right. I’m just here for some R&R. We’re at the Saguaro Resort. My aunts and Sean will be performing next week in their lounge.”
“They were one of my favorite groups when I was young. They still are. I hear them on the oldies station all the time. Brings back memories of m
y times in the backseat of convertibles, but of course that’s a story from ancient history.”
“Wade how would you like to be a guest of the three remaining Mystical Marvels tonight for dinner at the resort?” Erin invited.
“I would be delighted. What time?”
“How about seven? There’s music and dancing in one of the lounges tonight.”
“I’ll be there. In the meantime, get that security right away.”
Chapter Eleven
An envelope was under Sean’s door when they got back. Before he opened it, he called Erin. She showed up at his room with Lou. “Give me one of those ziplock bags Erin and those tweezers,” Lou instructed her. She held the bag open while he inserted the letter typed with the same print as the first one. He put the envelope in another bag.
Through the plastic they read the threatening message:
THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING. WE WANT A LETTER STATING THAT YOU HAVE GIVEN THE FULL RIGHTS TO ALL YOUR SONGS THAT ARE IN DAISY DAWSON’S POSSESSION. WE WOULD REALLY HATE TO SEE WHAT HARM WOULD COME TO THE OLD LADIES IF THEY WERE LEFT IN THE DESERT WITHOUT WATER OR PROTECTION FROM OUR MANY DESERT BEASTS. LEAVE THE NOTARIZED LETTER AT THE FRONT DESK BY TOMORROW MORNING. TELL THEM A MR. RIGHT WILL PICK IT UP AT 11AM.
“We’ll leave an envelope, but it won’t be a letter giving away the rights,” Lou said. “Let’s get that protection security here.”
* * *
The private security people were there within the hour. There were two people for the aunts and two for Sean and Clara.
Lou and Brad had made up a letter and put it in an envelope with “To be picked up by Mr. Right” printed on the front. The letter read:
Mr. Right,
You will never get the copyrights to my songs no matter who or what you threaten. Give up and move on.
Sean Dooley
Brad read the note. “Maybe we better double the security. This is going to make them hopping mad.”
“It’s meant to. The madder they get, the more that people like them make mistakes, but just to make sure let’s give the security guys a little extra help. How about you watch Sean and Clara with Erin and I’ll watch the girls?”
The Last Note (Mystical Marvels Mysteries Book 2) Page 3