Rick Cantelli, PI: Into the Darkness (Rick Cantelli, P.I. Detectives Book 3)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Remember. If you screw Cheech, he won’t have to get an outside contract on you. I’ll do it for free.” Trish grabbed Stacy’s arm. “Tell me you understand, because there won’t be any slick prison con jobs if you screw up. There’ll be me and a sharp knife in the dark.”

  “I…I understand.”

  Trish pinched her cheek with one of those smiles of hers capable of peeling paint off walls. “I hope for your sake you do. Let’s get started, Rick. My gag reflex is kicking in.”

  “Go back to work, Stace. We’ll test out the system with you when we finish.”

  “Cheech asked if we’d let him know when you’re ready to test it out. He’d like to be here for the test.”

  “Sure. We’ll let you know a half hour before we finish, so you can contact him.” Trish and I headed for our van.

  “You didn’t say much when I stomped your old honey.”

  “It needed to be done. We’ll make sure every key stroke on every computer is logged, and all business ingoing and outgoing call numbers logged. Coupled with our surveillance cameras with motion detection activation, we should have the Stacy problem countered. I hope Cheech knows what he’s doing. I’ll admit, she can spot a con in an instant. Stacy’s a petty thief from way back. Although we’ll have every item scanned so it will set off an alarm if not checked through the cashier, Stacy can spot trouble before her security team. Hell… she more than likely knows every gangbanger in the area.”

  “You’re still sweet on her you old dimwit,” Trish stated impolitely. “Lo will smell it on you, or she’ll do one of her mind melds into the Cantelli brain pool, and yank it out of there.”

  “Yeah… her head will probably explode.”

  “Or she’ll blow yours off. When you nailed Chet and me before we could kill Stacy, you told me Lo almost toasted you with the needles after she arrived to help.”

  “What’s your point, Trish?” I shouldered our gear bags, and Trish locked the van. “You have Sam. Lo put me on installs moments after I arrived at the office from overseas to stew your tomatoes. I didn’t even do anything. That calls for payback. Cantelli-land cannot be disrespected without penalty.”

  Trish followed me to the store, grabbing my gear bag shoulder strap, trying to throw me off balance. She had to give it up. “Lo will get you bad if she finds out you’re planking Stacy.”

  “What’s your point, Trish?”

  She laughed. “You two are nuts. Did you do this to each other overseas the whole time you were gone?”

  “We had other things on our minds… like staying alive. We’ll make up for lost time now. This install is a Harpy bonanza – an opportunity to make money, stick the two of us on something we hate, and have it overseen by Stacy. I figure there’s only one way to get even.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Trish gasped when she saw my smile. “Honest to God, Rick… she’ll light you up until smoke comes out your ears. I’ll admit that’s the last thing in the world she’d expect. You’re not really going to sleep with Stacy to get back at Lo… are you?”

  “Not exactly. I figured you’d want to get a piece of the action. We’ll find a storeroom with a closed door to use for our prop after we finish the install. I’ll go inside the storeroom. You call Lo, and tell her the install went well, and we’re waiting for Cheech before we test it.”

  Trish shook her head. “She’ll ask me where you are. I’m supposed to act off kilter, looking around saying I’m not sure, right?”

  “Yep. Then she’ll ask you where Stacy is. You won’t know the answer to that either. That’s when things will get interesting, because she’ll insist on speaking to me.”

  “I’ll say I think he went in the storeroom. When I try to open the storeroom door, it will be locked.”

  This was going to be good. “You knock, and I’ll tell you to go away for a few more minutes. Lo will be screaming for Stacy’s whereabouts by then. I’ll come out of the storeroom, straightening my clothes while shutting the door.”

  “Let’s get to work,” Trish replied. “I have to think this through. I don’t know if I want a hand in driving Lo to a double killing.”

  “Harmless fun.”

  “So is cliff diving.”

  * * *

  Stacy stayed out of our way. She looked to be managing in a professional manner. Both Trish and I watched her when we could – no doubt in either of our minds Stacy represented the weakest link in our security package. The customers strolling through liked her as well as the staff. I knew she could con an ice cream cone from a four year old though. After I did the rooftop camera installs, I adjusted the monitors in the elaborate office monitoring station, where Stacy told us there would be a security worker at all times. It’s a necessary evil in a store with high end merchandise. Even with a large sales staff, there were idiots who enter a place with destruction in mind, or to case the place for a prospective break-in later.

  I added the undetectable software to all the computers used by office personnel, explaining it as a virus system upgrade. With all the smartphones, tablets, and gizmos for cloning, the only thing we could do is cut out the obvious, and limit the damage. Normally, when intelligent people see an advanced security system installed, it curbs their baser instincts for theft… if of course they have those baser instincts. The others, who think our security system is all show, or believe they can talk their way out of anything if caught, get our deluxe prosecution package. Lo and I decided long ago when we catch thieves in a client’s business, they get prosecuted to the max, and it’s in our contract. That way a business owner can use our contract when accused of being an unfeeling wretch for not giving second chances (usually they’ve been ripping off people all their lives). Lo and I don’t care if thieves think we’re unfeeling wretches.

  Trish came in shortly after I finished the last of our monitoring screen installation. “The cameras are all in place, Rick. Are you ready to try them out?”

  “Yep. Fire in the hole.” I booted our system. All views were in HD color, and the cameras moved by motion detectors automatically or manually. I let Trish test out the manual settings after the automatic movements appeared to work perfectly, while I put away my equipment.

  Trish chuckled. “Check this out, Rick.”

  I moved next to her screen, where Trish manipulated the camera trained on the entrance. Three hoodies with ‘I’d like to get it up the butt’ pants sagging at thigh level entered, ball caps and sunglasses on under their hoods. Although San Diego in March doesn’t have desert type heat, the temperature outside was in the low seventies. These kids were over dressed with their hands jammed into the pockets of their hoodies.

  “They’re window shopping for an afterhours hit. I’ll bet they haven’t seen the roll down security doors covering all glass windows. This place is out of their league unless it’s a smash and grab. They walked right by the security guy at the door. His name was Chuck… wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Trish answered, “and Chuck doesn’t like the looks of our boys in black. Stacy’s on her way to intercept them right at the front. This ought to be good.”

  Trish increased the volume on our excellent audio. “I’m married now, and curbing my violent side. I’ll observe, Hooterville. You go and back up Chuck and kneepad.”

  “By your command, Lo light.”

  I left the office and maneuvered through the store to a position on the left of Chuck’s. I had my coveralls on with my hand on a potent stun-gun in my pocket that will rock your world with one touch. He had slowed his approach, because we can’t simply assume these three were gangbangers. With all the stupid shit glorifying thugs, punks, and prison culture, it was difficult to tell the posers from the players. I’d already made my assumption. Chuck saw me hover near a display opposite him. He nodded. Stacy approached them all smiles and welcoming attitude.

  “Hi, welcome to Godfather’s Cell. Is there anything in particular I can direct you to?”

  Then, I saw it. The world was to change in unknown ways. I
admit this seemed to be a thug dress parade or hoodlums hatching out a plan for later. Flashes of being on the rooftop in Sana’a, Yemen pumping rounds into people hell bent on killing me streaked through my head. I saw the center thug move a step ahead, clutching a pistol’s handle, trying to drag it out of the hoodie pocket. It caught momentarily, so he had to try and hold the coat with his other hand. My stun-gun dropped him like an afterthought on Christmas morning.

  I dropped and leg whipped the kid behind him down to the floor, seeing Chuck bear hug the other one. I gave the one I leg whipped a jump start before firing an arc off in the face of Chuck’s detainee. “Want some, kid? I’ll have Chuck push you toward me, and you’ll go nighty-night in an instant.”

  He shook his head with Chuck trying to keep from laughing.

  “Good. Chuck will help you to your knees. Clasp your hands behind your head.”

  He did as told. I put on my nitrile gloves. “Watch these two, Chuck, while I relieve the first one of his weapon.”

  Chuck dragged the other twitching hoodie next to the kneeling one. “I’ve got him.”

  Stacy had already began calming the other patrons, guiding them away from the entrance they probably wanted to run out of. I found a snub nosed .38 Special in Hoodie number one’s pocket. The trigger had caught on the soft material in the pocket. I frisked each one, and when I pat a thug down, the only thing left on their person is a feeling they’ve been violated. The second Hoodie carried a .22 automatic. The third one kneeling down carried a knife. I arranged the two on their bellies, trying to recover from the hummer I gave them, with their hands plastic tied behind their backs. After taking care of kneeling number three, we were all friends again.

  Chuck, who was a couple inches taller than my six/two height, and at least thirty pounds heavier, looked relieved. I figured he was hired because of a military background. Black, and wearing a form fitting security uniform, he appeared hell of formidable, although he didn’t have a sidearm. That these punks walked right past him with barely a look meant they were into more than casing the place.

  The sirens I heard approaching meant Trish signaled for the cavalry. I’d bet money she would be coming out with the whole incident in HD on a flash-drive. “I didn’t mean to crash the party, Chuck, but Trish and I saw what was happening on the new monitors. I never figured it was a gunplay move.”

  “I’m damn glad you did back me up, Rick. We won’t have a full security team until tomorrow. What the hell do you think these clowns meant to do?”

  I didn’t want to lie to a security guard putting his life on the line every time the store opened. “I’m not sure, Chuck. Mr. Garibaldi is not your run of the mill store owner. He’s been changing all of his holdings to be above board with no links to his past. It doesn’t always go smoothly. That’s why he called my firm in to install this state of the art system. He’s experimenting with whether this could work in a franchise business. What I’m hoping is these punks weren’t sent in here on a gang initiation to test the store’s security, especially on install day, which would point to a leak.”

  Chuck took a moment to digest my plain take on it while we watched our ‘bangers. “I did a tour in Iraq. I’m not too crazy about gun battles without a gun in someone else’s store.”

  I chuckled at that common sense remark. “I thought you looked like you did some time in the pit. Sometimes shit happens, my friend. I’m certain of one thing: Cheech Garibaldi never meant for you to die on the job. I see our first test subject is returning to coherency.”

  After helping my first stunner victim to his knees, I patted him on the back. “Hi, Ace. What was it you little ‘bangers hoped to do today. I’m not a cop. They’re coming real soon. I’m curious to know if anyone informed you that Cheech Garibaldi owns this place.”

  His eyes widened. Apparently, he did know who Cheech was, and he didn’t have the opportunity to think through the ramifications of such an action as hitting Cheech’s store. “I…I didn’t know. Who told you Garibaldi owns this place?”

  “We work for him, young man. You’re lucky the police will be arresting and transporting you and your idiot friends shortly. I’ll put a good word in for you with Cheech if you tell me who sent you on this sucker mission.”

  The kid looked at me with real fear… not the playacting kind. This kid knew he was in trouble no matter what he did. Yeah. I’d feel a lot more compassionate if he hadn’t walked into the store with a .38 Special, harboring every intention of killing anyone in the way of what he was sent there to do.

  “Spit it out, munchkin. Nothing you say here will be admissible anywhere. I’m interested in why three young ‘bangers come into a Cheech Garibaldi store with guns. I saw you reaching when the manager approached you. You’re too stupid not to have the gun somewhere your clothing won’t hinder your draw, so you meant to kill coming in. Between you and me, that’s a death sentence with Cheech. I’ll give a good word on your behalf to Cheech if you give me something in return. Otherwise… good luck in jail. We are going to prosecute your asses, and we have HD video and audio to back us up.”

  “Dane Ramos.”

  Chapter Three

  Out of the Past

  My buddy’s friends had been listening. They didn’t try and bully their comrade into shutting up. The three of them were at least smart enough to know they’d been sent as cannon fodder. Uh oh. That means my new pal’s name drop was legitimate. Ramos was the new player in the area for drugs, prostitution, gambling, and human trafficking. This is what happens when a wise-guy of Cheech’s stature moves into the area. No one cares why. They figure to make a statement before the supposed kingpin gets settled in.

  “What in hell did you three hope to accomplish? Killing Chuck here and a few other innocent people? Throwing a few shots into the products… what?”

  The three stayed silent, leaving Chuck and I staring across the void at each other in silent commiseration. Trish arrived a moment later, holding the flash-drive I knew I could count on her to clone for me.”

  “I checked it to see the event in HD.” Trish shook her finger at the three kneeling on the floor now. “Naughty, naughty… you guys do not look good on this. If you have any brains, you’d be smart to plead out to anything the D.A. wants to hang on you. My take on it is when Cheech sees this incident in HD, jail would be like home sweet home for you three. He doesn’t provide three hots and a cot for thieves. He’s old school.”

  “I promised them I’d put in a word with Cheech,” I said, seeing the lead thug look at me like I was shortchanging his ass. “Dane Ramos put out the word to hit the store.”

  “Oh shit…” Trish walked away for a moment while considering that factoid.

  “I see you two know Ramos,” Chuck said. “What do we say to the police?”

  “Stick with the facts, Chuck. These guys won’t say a word to the cops about what you heard. I’ll let Cheech know what’s happening. He’s due in here to see our demo on the new system. Don’t hang your ass out on a limb for us. We’ll present it to the cops as it happened in reality. Does that sound okay to you?”

  “Yeah… it does, Rick. I don’t want to be plunked in the middle of a gang war. I also don’t want to lose this job. It’s time I stopped thinking this security employment is like a hamburger flipper job at Mac D’s.”

  “It will calm down, but as you’ve already surmised, you are not window dressing here. Our company is in all the way on this, Chuck.” I gave him my personal business card. “If you call me, I will back any play happening at a moment’s notice.”

  “Thanks, Rick. I didn’t want you to think I’m some kind of pussy because of this.”

  No way. “Listen. You’re in a situation where some gang lord can send stupid ass kids in with guns blazing at any time. That makes this store a combat zone. You did time where most don’t and won’t go, in the service of your country. That means more to me than anything else in the world. If you feel uncomfortable in regard to a situation or person, you call me.”
>
  “I appreciate that. This job doesn’t pay enough for combat zone danger.”

  I think I can help with that. “Let’s discuss a little upgrade in pay, my friend. If you’ll keep us informed of anything the manager Stacy Alden, or any other employee does that raises the hackles on the back of your neck, I think Madigan and Cantelli Security would like to compensate you for it on the side. Would you be comfortable with such an arrangement?”

  Chuck smiled. “Hell yeah. I will keep you informed for certain, Rick.”

  “You’ll be making our information gathering a lot less challenging. Well… the police are here.” I saw uniforms come in the door.

  “I told them the situation was handled,” Trish told us.

  It wasn’t anyone I knew, so we gave them the facts as it had happened without any added conjecture. Trish showed them the flash-drive clip on her tablet, and they were appreciative. The female police officer kept glancing speculatively at Trish. She was an inch shorter than Trish’s height of five feet nine inches. Her nametag read Gavin.

  “Are you Trish Medina? We know Cantelli escorts the movie stars around, but I didn’t know he had one working for him. “I saw your movie, ‘A New Beginning’. It should have been picture of the year. I’ve seen it three times. Your neighbor part in it stole the show. What are you doing working with this has-been?”

  Everyone enjoyed Gavin’s bright eyed zinger at target Cantelli, but I was wondering if she actually knew me well enough to lay an ace on me like that. “Do I know you, Officer Gavin?”

  She blushed, which had me thinking I must be getting senile. I am very good with faces. I know one thing: I never have gotten intimate with any police officers. Her partner, an older guy in his late forties, which made him a teenager to me, chuckled as if he knew the inside joke too.

  “I thought you said you knew Cantelli, Meg,” her partner said.