E is for Exposed (Malibu Mystery Book 5)

by Rebecca Cantrell

She opened the door.

  “Congratulations, Sofia!” he said, with a huge smile. He handed her the flowers.

  “Er, thanks.”

  “You’d better get those in water. Can I come in?” he asked, stepping around her before she could answer.

  “Jeffery? What’s going on?”

  “I heard all about your return to acting. It’s all over town.”

  Sofia sank down in her couch and looked at the list of actors she’d already called. Of course it was. Actors were notorious gossips. At least some of them had added up two and two and gotten five.

  Her phone rang. Jeffery practically leaped past her to snatch it up.

  “Do not answer that,” he said. “It’ll be those bastards at CAA. Or WME,” he said, naming two of the biggest agents in Los Angeles. “There’s only one man who’s capable of shepherding your re-emergence into the shining light of stardom.”

  “I’m not going back to acting, Jeffery,” she said, grabbing the phone back from him.

  “Don’t lie to me. If you want to go with one of the big shops you’re making a mistake but I respect your decision.”

  “I’m not lying. I was calling round because I need some advice about an audition for a friend of mine. Now I really need to get back to work,” she said, shooing him towards the door. It was easier to get Fred moving.

  “A friend?” he asked, still skeptical.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not just saying that? You’re really not coming back?”

  “Nope, I’m happy with my job. I actually help people and make a difference to their lives.”

  Jeffery stood on the porch and stared at her like she was speaking another language. “You want to help people when you could be rich and famous?”

  “Yep,” said Sofia. “I know it’s not a popular idea, these days, but I’m going with it.”

  Jeffery looked devastated. “This friend of yours, do they have representation?”

  “No, but they might need it if they get this gig. Do you have any idea how they can improve their chances?”

  She quickly outlined the scenario without giving away any details. Her friend was new to the business. There would be a lot of competition. Competition from younger, perhaps more suitable candidates.

  When she’d finished, Jeffery’s smile was back. “I do have an idea, but it’s kind of cheating and if you get caught you could be in real trouble.”

  Sofia figured they were already in trouble. “Let’s hear it.”

  Jeffery’s grin widened. “I used this move to help get J-Law her first commercial. Oh, and by the way, if your friend lands the gig, I want my ten percent.”

  37

  “Okay, are you guys ready?” asked Brendan, walking out of his office.

  Sofia was bent down, making final adjustments to Aidan’s blue ‘police’ shorts. They would have been police shorts if the cops ever decided to start wearing cut-off Daisy Dukes with the word POLICE emblazoned across the butt. Aidan was also wearing a blue silk jacket with the same POLICE logo on the back in yellow.

  Brendan stopped dead as he caught an eyeful of his son. “Holy Mother of God, preserve my immortal soul,” he said.

  “Isn’t that blasphemy?” Sofia asked him, shocked that he’d say such a thing when he wouldn’t even use the word “asshole.” It wasn’t unknown for Brendan to attend mass at nearby Pepperdine University. In fact, he had a couple of close pals who were priests, and was serious about being a good Catholic.

  “Not if you mean it,” said Brendan.

  Aidan threw up his arms. “You think I want to walk around looking like this?”

  “I don’t know,” said Brendan. “There was that time when you were seven and your mom caught you getting dressed up like your cousin Demi.”

  Sofia raised her eyebrows at Brendan. “This is really not helpful right now. We have an hour to get to the audition and we don’t know if there will be changing facilities when we get there. Or if we’ll have the time.”

  Brendan started backing up towards his office. “I’m sorry, I know you’re not supposed to say anything to anyone these days about, y’know . . .” he waved a hand in Aidan’s direction “. . . about whatever they’re wearing. We’re in a post-gender world or something.”

  “I’m wearing this get-up for a job!” Aidan protested, his voice getting a little shrill.

  Brendan burst out laughing. “I know, I know, I’m just busting your chops. But, come on, you have to admit it’s a pretty funny look for a guy who’s as strait-laced as you.”

  “I’d like to see you in this,” Aidan said, all fired up.

  “Guys, this conversation is getting kind of weird,” Sofia said. “And I need to go back to work. I’m fitting a pouch-cam.”

  “Pouch-cam?”

  “Yeah, when Aidan’s backstage, and on stage, the pouch is all he’ll be wearing. So I was going to fit this lens at the front,” Sofia said, reaching down and coming up with a tiny black pinhole camera. A super-thin black wire trailed from the back to a single tiny battery. “The battery sews into the back of the waistband. Pretty neat, huh?”

  “Yeah, amazing what they can do, these days,” said Brendan. “Listen, break a leg!” He reversed into his office and closed the door again. They could hear him cracking up behind it.

  Aidan stepped back, and started taking his shorts off, giving Sofia an eye-level view of his pouch, if not his actual marbles, in the process.

  “Whoa, what are you doing?”

  “I’m taking off these ridiculous shorts.”

  The tops of his shorts were at his ankles. Sofia lunged forward, grabbed them and started to yank them back up his legs. “No, you are not. This is what we agreed, and we don’t have time to find something else that works.”

  “I don’t care. I feel ridiculous.”

  “Then welcome to the world of show business. Not to mention undercover work,” Sofia countered.

  “Should we come back later?”

  They both turned to see Gray and Tex in the office doorway. Gray wore a lascivious smirk and Tex shot Sofia a big thumbs-up. From where they were standing, all they could see was Aidan, semi-naked, with Sofia kneeling in front of him, her head at crotch-level, and her hands grabbing at his shorts.

  “We’re making final costume adjustments,” said Sofia, blushing despite herself.

  “Is that what the kids are calling it, these days?” Gray smiled.

  “And fitting the pouch-cam,” said Aidan.

  “Maybe we should give them five minutes to finish up,” said Tex, elbowing him in the ribs.

  “No!” Sofia and Aidan shouted simultaneously.

  “Aidan’s having last-minute nerves,” said Sofia.

  “Totally understandable,” said Gray, starting to step around the desks.

  As Gray closed in, Aidan reached down and pulled up his shorts to cover the posing pouch he was wearing.

  “There we go,” said Sofia, reaching to secure the button so they’d stay on.

  Aidan batted her hand away and did it himself. “Watch it,” he said.

  “Oh, please,” said Sofia. “Like I’d be putting my hand there if I didn’t absolutely have to.”

  Tex coughed loudly and said what sounded like “Liar.”

  “Listen, why don’t we all get moving? We don’t want to miss your slot,” Sofia said.

  “We sure don’t,” said Gray, checking out Aidan’s butt as he wiggled in the shorts, trying to get comfortable.

  Sofia walked over to her desk and grabbed a bag. She could be merciful. She pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt and threw them over to Aidan. “Here, you can wear these until we get there.”

  “Thanks.” Aidan had never sounded more grateful. Maybe she should have charged him for them. He’d probably have paid a lot right then.

  “Spoilsport,” said Gray.

  Outside, all four of them piled into Gray’s Suburban, a hulking black SUV with super-tinted windows that he used sometimes when he wanted to go
out without anyone spotting him.

  “I didn’t realize we were all going to this thing,” said Aidan, as he settled in the front passenger seat next to Sofia, whom Gray had elected as driver because by law the front windshield couldn’t be tinted.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” said Tex.

  “Me either,” said Gray.

  Sofia glanced back at him as she completed the turn onto Pacific Coast Highway. “You wouldn’t want to go back and do all that again, would you?” she asked Gray.

  “God, no,” said Gray. “It was brutal. And humiliating. But it’s fun to think about it.”

  “Just what I want to hear before my first audition,” Aidan grumbled. “Brutal and humiliating. You Hollywood types have no idea what those words actually mean.”

  Tex put her hand up. “I am not a Hollywood type. I just happen to hang out with them. As do you. So spare us all the lecture about the real world, sweet cheeks.”

  “Present company excepted, then,” said Aidan.

  “Thanks,” said Tex.

  Aidan fidgeted in the front. He started to open the center console. Sofia glanced over to see him grabbing for a wad of printed paper signs. “Hey, what are these?” he asked.

  Sofia’s hand shot out and slammed the console shut. “Hey, do you always go rooting through people’s stuff when you’re in their car?”

  Aidan shrugged. “Kind of. Professional habit.”

  “Well, don’t,” she said, her hand resting on the console as she piloted the Suburban with one hand.

  38

  The landscape changed as they got closer to the audition venue. Gone were the pristine beach and beautiful people of Malibu, replaced by run-down liquor stores, strip joints, and people hanging out on corners eyeing the Suburban suspiciously. Sofia activated the central locking as they stopped at a light.

  “Relax, would you?” said Aidan. “I’m here.”

  “So you’re going to singlehandedly save the day if a bunch of gang-bangers decide to jack our car?”

  “Yeah,” said Aidan. “I’m packing,” he added, meaning he was carrying a firearm. As a former cop and qualified private investigator, Aidan had a concealed-carry firearm permit. Unlike Sofia. Although she was hoping to change that, with Brendan’s support, sooner rather than later.

  “Always good to go into a cattle call packing,” murmured Gray.

  “I’d love to see you chase someone down in those little police shorts,” said Tex, as the stoplight flipped to green and Sofia made the turn onto Ventura. The audition venue was just a few blocks away.

  Aidan grabbed a handful of shirt. “I’m wearing sweats, smartass.”

  “Hey,” chided Gray. “Can we not upset the talent before he gets there?”

  “I think it may be a little late for that,” said Sofia.

  “In any case, listen,” said Gray, pulling himself forward on Aidan’s seatback. “You are going to be awesome. Just remember everything we rehearsed. Mean and moody. Sexy hips. Lots of thrust.”

  “Gotcha,” said Aidan. “And thanks, buddy. You too, Tex.”

  Sofia checked the GPS, and pulled over into a parking spot outside a partially boarded-up single-story brick building with a metal security grille in front of the main entrance door. “I guess this is it,” she announced. She scanned the sidewalk. The block was almost empty. That wasn’t good for what they had planned. She scanned the building for cameras. None. That was something. And she wouldn’t have to worry about paying for parking as it looked like someone had taken a baseball bat to every meter on the block. Ah, the glamour of Tinseltown.

  Gray leaned further forward. “Hey, Aidan, while you’re inside, do you mind if I borrow your weapon?”

  “Uh, what?” said Aidan, flustered.

  Sofia knew from experience that Gray loved nothing more than making straight men uncomfortable.

  “The gun,” said Gray, with a nod toward Aidan’s gun carry case. “This looks like a bad neighborhood, and this is a fairly expensive car.”

  “I’d really rather you didn’t.”

  There was a snapping sound as Gray’s right hand came up with a latex glove. “Don’t worry, I won’t get my prints on it.”

  “You carry around latex gloves?” Sofia wasn’t sure she wanted to know why.

  “Of course,” said Gray. “And I’ll only use the gun if I absolutely have to, which I almost certainly won’t.”

  Aidan eyed him. “How do you know that you won’t?”

  Gray made a gun with his latex-gloved hand. His eyes narrowed, his jaw tightened. This was all-action movie-star Gray. “Move an inch and I’ll blow your goddamn head off,” he hissed.

  Tex broke into applause. Even Aidan looked impressed.

  “Okay, tell you what. You can use the gun, but the clip’s going to be empty.”

  Sofia glanced at the time on the front dash. “You’d better get yourself inside and sign in.”

  “Okay,” said Aidan. He reached into his bag, pulled out the carry case, popped the clip out of his handgun, and handed it to Gray. Then he checked he had everything else he needed.

  “You have the drop device?” Sofia asked.

  “Of course,” said Aidan, zipping the bag closed again. They planned for Aidan to place a tiny surveillance mic inside the audition room if he got the chance. Technology meant these things were so tiny now that you could drop one behind something without anyone noticing.

  They all wished him luck as he opened the door and got out of the Suburban. Sofia and the other two watched as he approached the metal grille door.

  “Maybe I should have let him have the gun,” said Gray.

  “He’ll be fine,” said Sofia. “He’s pretty tough.”

  “This is awesome,” said Tex. “It’s like we’re in a TV show. Like The Rockford Files.”

  At the end of the block a homeless man dropped his pants and squatted over the gutter to do his business. Sofia’s stomach lurched. “Yeah, just like TV,” she said, popping open the center console and grabbing the paper signs they’d prepared. “Okay,” she said, “I’d better get to work. I have an audition to rig. You guys whistle if you see anyone coming.”

  She wasn’t even out of the car when Gray let out a loud wolf-whistle. With her hand still on the open Suburban door, Sofia whirled to see a young guy in his early twenties wearing construction boots, ripped jeans, and a gleaming smile striding toward them.

  He looked just like one of the topless greeters at Felsom & Finch, a high-end fashion store in Santa Monica. In fact, she was fairly sure he was one of the topless greeters. Though she might have been mistaken as they were pretty much all drop-dead-gorgeous hunks of pure American beef. If Sofia was having a bad day she’d sometimes roll past just to get a glimpse of them. It never failed to put a pep in her step.

  The rear passenger door popped open and Gray stepped out. Tex scooted over the seat and joined him.

  Gray put a hand on Sofia’s hand. “You go do what you have to do. I’ll round up this one.”

  “Me too,” said Tex, almost shoving Gray to the ground in her rush to intercept the nubile young wannabe-actor before he made it to the door.

  “Whatever,” said Sofia. She wasn’t sure having a horny former wildcatter and an A-list movie star was how you ran a covert surveillance operation, but she’d have to roll with it.

  She grabbed the tape she was carrying, tore off a strip, cut it with her teeth, and headed for the door with her sign.

  39

  Sofia slowly pulled back on the metal grille, and pushed open the glass door leading into the building. The corridor ahead looked empty.

  A couple of old Beef Cake Boyz posters had been taped to the bare wall, with a sign: “AUADITION THIS WAY→”. You kind of had to wonder about someone who could hold an audition, but couldn’t actually spell it correctly. She wondered if that was why “Boyz” in the group’s name was spelled with a z rather than an s. Maybe they hadn’t been going for an edgy 1980s boy band vibe after all, which was
what she had originally assumed.

  She had already removed the sign, saying “BEEF CAKE BOYZ AUADITIONS INSIDE”, which had been taped up outside, and replaced it with her own. Hers informed attendees that the audition had been cancelled because the part had been cast. It also had a number to call that re-routed to a burner phone she had set up where people could leave a message. Brendan would call back anyone who left a message and looked like they’d be really persistent.

  One of her reasons for sneaking inside was so she could replace the original sign as soon as she heard them packing up to leave. At least, that was what she had told the others. In truth, she really, really wanted to see Aidan go through his routine. Audio via the bug he was going to plant just wouldn’t cut it.

  She was taking a risk by sneaking inside. But this whole plan was kind of crazy anyway. And she had already worked out a cover story if she was caught. She planned on making out she was some kind of crazy stalker who had an obsession with one of the dancers. Okay, it wasn’t much of a cover, but it was better than having to make one up on the spot.

  Hopefully, she wouldn’t need it.

  She followed the signs down the corridor and hung a left. Behind a set of double doors, she could hear music playing. She figured this had to be it. The question now was how she could watch what was going on inside.

  Walking up to the doors, she hunkered down, but there was no gap between them, and no keyhole to peek through. She went on to the next door and, very, very slowly, turned the handle. She cringed as she pushed it open and the hinges creaked. She should have brought some WD40 with her. Rookie mistake.

  On the other side of the door two rows of lockers ran along each wall. In the center of the room was a long bench. Off to one side she saw a row of shower stalls. At the end of the room there was another door. She could hear music behind it.

  This was obviously some kind of changing area. Perfect. She’d made it, and without even a sniff of being detected.

  Just then a guy walked out of the shower, buck naked. He was about six feet tall, muscular, covered with tattoos, and had a bright purple Mohawk. Not that his haircut was his most notable feature, which was literally swinging like a clock pendulum between his legs.