The Dead Gigolo Caper (Suds and Sam Book 4)

by Stella Marie Alden

  I’m about to lose my mind, explode into oblivion, but she tethers me to earth with her clenched body. Hell, when I go to heaven, I’m taking her with me.

  She clenches everything from her eyelids to her toes and screams. The sound hits my tailbone, ricochets off my balls, and I thrust in deep for release.

  Connected, we reach our high, then collapse. When we wake from a short nap, she’s resting with her head on my chest.

  “I love you.” She’s so damn sweet, I stir inside her but I need to get back to the city.

  “Love you, too, sugar. I got an early morning but I’ll see you tomorrow night.” I kiss the tip of her nose, she grins, then shoots a hand to her lip and grimaces.

  “Oh right, the surprise party.”

  “You heard about it?

  “Not the details, but yeah. What kind of private detective would I be? I overheard Mia whispering to Rose. It seems Cousin Josi had an engagement bash booked over a year ago. She broke up with her fiancé so now they’re repurposing it. Am I right?”

  “Did you hear where?”

  “No. Why?”

  I chuckle as I roll off the bed and crawl around, feeling for my clothes. “Try to look surprised or they’ll blame me.”

  She hands me my shirt. “No worries. I got this. Oh, I almost forgot. Tomorrow I’m going to New Jersey. Terri Springfield is meeting her lover for lunch. I know we said no sleuthing but this is a perfectly safe public place.”

  Hell, no. I stop my inner caveman from responding and find a more rational response. “You’ll leave if anything feels off?”

  “I will. And thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “Not getting angry about my little incident. It really wasn’t my fault.”

  “Sugar, I told you. I’m not mad but I will get even with the moron who dared hurt you.” I let down the congenial mask I generally hold in place and let her see the cold, hard, warrior within.

  I didn’t survive Afghanistan by being a nice guy.

  Chapter 12

  Sam

  Shit! I just remembered I forgot to tell Sebastian about Gallo and the escort service. While I brush my teeth, I consider calling him but it’s late and I should wait.

  In the morning, Catrina, my new alarm clock, puts her wet nose to mine. “Meow?”

  “No. God no. What time is it?”

  She curls her paws in my hair, purrs, and massages my chest in what my nonna calls making-da-pasta.

  “Okay. I’m awake.” When I sit up, she pounces to the floor and runs to the kitchen.

  As I follow her downstairs, she sits staring at the food cabinet, in case I’ve forgotten where it is.

  “First things first, kiddo.” I put a pod in the coffee maker and get my half and half from the fridge. Only then do I grab Cat’s bowl and fill it while she circles my feet, trying her best to trip me.

  It’s enough to make me doubt evolution. “If I’m dead, who’ll feed you? You do realize you don’t have thumbs, right?”

  Cats were probably made by an alien race, hoping to take over the world a zillion years ago but they gave up. The whole project must’ve been a huge disappointment. One millennium they had saber-toothed-tigers, and the next, fat, lazy tabbies.

  Done pondering the wonders of Darwinism, I wash in the bathroom, wishing the shower was finished. Also, I really need a mirror. Maybe there’s one in those boxes stacked in the corner.

  Bingo. I pull the new medicine cabinet out of its box, and kneel to apply makeup while Catrina chases my mascara into the living room. I’m not even finished when Vinny texts me tomorrow’s blind date. Laughing, I send him a thumbs up. When bachelor number one gets a look at my face, he’ll come up with some excuse to ditch me and Suds will never know.

  Around ten, Joey drops by to see me. “You sure you don’t mind watching Kimmy? I’ll pick her up around three.”

  I lift the cherub out of her stroller and kiss her rosy fat cheeks. “We’ll be fine. I got a fancy lunch in Jersey. She and I will have a great time.”

  “Youz taking my kid with youz on a job?” Frowning, her dad tilts his head and studies me like I’m a new species of low life.

  “It’s no big deal. Even Suds agreed it was okay. I’m just going to take a few pictures of a rich woman having lunch with her lover.”

  “Not happening.” He picks up his cell phone, punches in a number, and puts it to his ear. “Yeah, it’s me. Get the car… Jersey… How the fuck do I know? Huh? Not my problem. Take it up with Vinny.”

  Joey puts away his phone. “Wheels is going to drive youz. I’ll put the car seat in before I go. You guys have a good time.”

  “Wait. Who’s Wheels?”

  “Big guy? Broken nose? Chain smoker?”

  “Oh, him… He’s what? A chauffeur?”

  Joey skews his face. “No, he’s a fucking ballet dancer.” He kisses Kimmy. “Be good for Auntie Sammy.”

  Outside, my driver, not wearing a tutu, opens the back door of a black limousine and helps me put Kimmy in the car seat.

  “Where to?” He eyes me over his crooked nose.

  “Here.” I hand him my cell phone, he puts the destination into his GPS, and hands it back.

  Then, I sing three thousand choruses of ‘The Wheels on the Bus go Round and Round’ while Kimmy laughs hysterically. She’s dressed to the nines in a white fuzzy coat, pink bunny-ear hat, and leggings with pink hearts. With her so cute, no one will pay attention to me, which is the point.

  Quickly, I glance around the parking lot as Wheels opens the door. Although I can’t imagine anyone following us all the way to the burbs, after the week I had, who knows.

  With my guard dog watching us, I stroll into the restaurant to where the cheating reality star sits by the window.

  The hostess squats by Kimmy. “Oh my God, aren’t you so cute?”

  Kimmy blows bubbles with her mouth, cuter than hell, and the woman makes baby faces back. That’s my girl.

  After she finishes gushing over the baby, I point to the table near the back, next to my target, Dana’s wife, Terri. “Could we sit there?”

  “Of course.” She smiles down at the stroller.

  I order way more food than I can eat, hoping to stay as long as possible but I needn’t have worried. Her date shows up almost immediately.

  Huh. He’s not at all what I expected. Handsome, yes, but twice her age.

  Pretending I’m talking on the phone, I snap pictures of the kissing couple. When he puts his arm around the back of the chair and whispers sweet nothings into her ear, I’m all over it.

  Not long after, all lovey-dovey, they leave and I take one last picture of them going into the hotel next door.

  Damn fine work, if I do say so myself.

  Wheels, waiting by the limo, opens the door, and soon we’re back in Brooklyn. Then, Kimmy naps while I pull everything I own out of my closet. What does one wear to a surprise engagement party?

  I settle on a short black dress with black tights and try to work some magic on my face. By the time I emerge from the bathroom, Suds and Joey’s voices echo in the stairwell downstairs.

  Chapter 13

  Suds

  “Hey Joey.” On the sidewalk outside my office, I reach out to shake hands while he eyes me up and down.

  “Does she know?”

  Shrugging, I loosen my tie. “I think she suspects. Rose and Mia aren’t the best at keeping secrets.”

  “True that.” Inside, by the mailboxes, he grabs my shoulder. “Do youz got any leads on who beat her up?”

  “Not yet. I don’t suppose you heard anything?” I narrow my gaze and he backs up a few steps.

  “Whoa, dude. It wasn’t any of my guys. Capice? She’s a little sister to me.”

  “Just checking.”

  We climb the stairs and at the top, he juts out his chin. “What’s the big deal? Give the old reporter back her dough.”

  Like I could convince her to change her mind. “I tried. You want a go at it?”

 
; “Hell, no. She’s all yours.” Inside, we quiet because Sam puts a finger to her lips and points to his sleeping kid.

  He lifts the baby into his arms, mouths goodbye and alone, I kiss my beautiful lady. I slide my hands up and under her tight dress. I cup her butt, covered in warm fabric, wishing I was driving her to dinner, not dropping her off at a stripper club.

  I sneak a finger into the waistband and snap. “I’m not so sure I like these.”

  Damn, that tight spandex is sexy. Maybe we’ll have a little lovin’. My cock, cramming against my underwear, wholeheartedly agrees.

  “We should go. I can’t be late to my own surprise party.” Smiling, she wraps her arms around my waist and presses her lower half into mine.

  I groan. “Spoil sport.”

  Then, I steal a few gentle kisses and enjoy the show as her sexy ass wiggles for me down the steep stairs.

  Outside, I study the perimeter, and push her behind me. “Go back inside. Now.”

  The guy across the street eyes us with too much interest. If he’s not the scumbag who hurt her, he’s probably of the same species of roach.

  Sam cracks open the door. “Oh my God. I think that’s him.”

  “Stay put. I’m going to have a little chat with him.” Playing it cool, I grab my keys, whistle through my teeth, and start my SUV.

  As I double-park across from our building, he flicks his cigarette and mashes it with his toe.

  Sensing he’s about to bolt, I run, take a flying leap, and tackle him to the ground.

  Meanwhile, across the street, Sam cries out. In three inch heels and a tight mini-skirt, she wobbles across the pavement, gun in hand.

  “Is this him?” I lift him to his feet.

  “Yeah.” Cheeks red, eyes narrowed, she puts her finger on the trigger and places her pistol’s barrel on the guy’s temple. “Who hired you?”

  “I have no idea what youz talking about.” Before she kills him by mistake, I punch his face.

  “I think you may want to rephrase that.” I flex my knuckles hoping his jaw looks as bad or worse than Sam’s.

  “No one paid me. I was looking for a quick fuck.” Dumber than a post, he leers at my woman so I punch him again, this time in the eye. Not quite finished, I connect with a swift upper cut. “I can do this all night.”

  He spits blood onto the dirty snowbank. “Whatever you’re going to do, it won’t compare to what she’ll do to me if I snitch.”

  “Me?” Sam’s mouth drops open.

  “I think he means Anne Gallo.”

  Paling, the thug’s eyes dart about as he grasps at his heart and my face leans into his. “You do know Samantha here is the police chief’s daughter, right?”

  He moans. “Jesus. You need to let me go.”

  Enjoying this a little too much, Sam grins, slips her revolver back into her holster and takes his picture with her cellphone. “And my uncle is Vincent Vitale.”

  “Oh Christ, I’m a dead man walking. Promise not to tell him. In fact, don’t tell nobody.”

  “Hi, Daddy?” When Sam puts her phone to her ear, the thug almost pisses himself.

  “Hang up. Gallo hired me. Okay? Now, let me go.”

  I throw a few twenties at him. “Subway’s across the street. Take it to Port Authority and get out of town. I’m giving you a head start. Use it.”

  He dashes away while Sam giggles and places her phone back in her purse. She steps onto her tiptoes, puts her hands behind my neck, and kisses me. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  She snickers. “I saw what you did. You beat him up to look like me. An eye for an eye? I’m not sure that’s what the Old Testament had in mind but it felt righteous.”

  I put my arm around her waist and kiss the tip of her nose. “God works in mysterious ways, darlin’. Let’s go. We’re late.”

  On the Brooklyn Bridge, the lights of midtown remind me she’s got a heavy night of partying ahead of her. “Ready?”

  She sighs. “I’m not sure I can handle any more surprises. Tell me, where is this shindig taking place?”

  “You really don’t know?”

  “No. I tried to find out but everyone was tight-lipped.”

  “Hunk-o-rama.”

  At my spoiler, her eyes go wide. “No fucking way.”

  “Yes way. Why?”

  “Oh my God. It’s the same club where Gallo gets her male escorts.”

  “Come again?” I pull to the curb by a hydrant, hit my flashers, and stare across the seat.

  Eyes wide, she grabs my knee. “I can’t believe I didn’t tell you. Last week Martha gave me a scrapbook full of old photos. That’s how I knew Mrs. Gallo knew my uncle Vinny and why I went to talk to him. After, I called Jason to send me her phone records. ‘Hunk-o-rama’ was high on her list of frequent calls. Finally, we’ve caught a break. Maybe we can solve this case, after all.”

  “Huh.” Not a brilliant response on my part but to be fair, this is the first I’m hearing of it.

  I can’t very well prevent her from going to her own party but no way am I leaving her alone in that establishment.

  Once we arrive in midtown, I swing around the corner and park my SUV in a lot. I’m still in my dress suit so it shouldn’t be hard to convince the guy at the door to let me in.

  Taking her arm, my fucking heart stutters. She’s wearing more makeup than usual to hide the black and blue. Her black skirt hugs her gorgeous body and she’s topped the look off with a fuzzy short top. Her hair is down and she did something to make the waves into tight curls.

  Damn, she could be a movie star about to make a debut. Those bright red lips curl up at me, my cock jumps to attention, and all I want is to make love to her.

  Down boy. We got work to do. My appendage refuses to surrender because she’s so damn hot when she eyes me up and down.

  “You clean up real nice.”

  “Nothin’ compared to you, sugar. You think they’ll let me in?” I twirl in front her.

  “I’ll simply say you’re my bodyguard. If not, you could always try the stage entrance.”

  I wink. “You’d be okay with all those women ogling me?”

  “Nu-uh. Stay close. You’re with me.” She wobbles a little on her stilettos and her red nails dig into my arm. I’ve been doing this bodyguard thing for years but when it’s my own woman, it’s a whole lot different and hard to disconnect the heart from the job at hand.

  Me Tarzan. You Jane.

  At the door, I flash my Patten credentials. The bouncer doesn’t even raise a brow as he ushers us in. “Private party downstairs and to your left.”

  “Do your cousins use this place often?” Male dancers in all phases of undress stare at me from the photos on the wall, making me a mite uncomfortable.

  “Don’t get jealous. Most of the dancers are gay. They’ll probably hit on you before me.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” I stop with my hand on the door. “I’ll be in the back, watching. If I say we go, we go. If I say duck, you…”

  “Quack?”

  “Sam, this is serious.”

  “Sorry. I’m a little nervous. Tonight, you’re not my lover, you’re my bodyguard.” She crosses her heart. “Promise. I’ve learned my lesson.”

  Somehow, I doubt it, but I kiss her nose, not wanting to mess up her lipstick any more than I already have.

  “Surprise!!!!” When she walks in the room, about a hundred women jump up and down.

  I step back into a corner where I have a better view of exits and entrances. It’s a bit too dark and crowded but I’ve had more difficult assignments. None, however, where my heart is so invested.

  The ladies settle into their seats as a stripper dressed as a cowboy comes out on stage and begins to strut his stuff while they hoot and holler.

  I ain’t never seen anything like it, and can’t keep my jaw from dropping. A country boy, I’m used to titty bars. It’s damn disturbing to see the roles reversed.

  The guy takes off his clothes,
real slow. Hell, if I was gay, I would definitely do him. However, being one hundred percent heterosexual, I can only wonder what it might be like to take it all off in public, except for a small sock.

  The man gyrates in front of Sam and she sticks a bill into his belt. It’s way too close to his junk, in my opinion. I know it’s all in fun but no way is she coming back here once she’s married to me. Whatever happened to classy women sitting around in a living room, opening lingerie, wearing party hats, and sipping champagne?

  The performer keeps most of his privates covered during the dance but there ain’t much left for the imagination. The lights go low, he shows it all for a brief moment, then exits as the ladies hoot and scream encore.

  That’s when Sam slips away to speak with the bartender.

  Chapter 14

  Sam

  I motion to a man on the other side of the bar. “Excuse me. Can I ask you a question?”

  “Go for it.” The blond Adonis, not more than twenty-five, pulls down on a handle, tilts a glass, and stops as the foam drips over the top.

  “My friend told me I could ask you if I needed a little companionship.”

  He shakes his head. “Sorry, we don’t do that here.”

  “Pretty sure you do. You ever seen this woman?” I slide a hundred dollar bill under my phone with an image of Anne Gallo on the screen.

  He moves back and quickly pockets the money. “She owns the joint.”

  “Does she have a favorite escort?”

  “Luigi.” From his grim mouth, I get a sense there’s a personal connection and take a chance on telling the truth.

  I reach into my pocket and show him my PI license. “Is there any chance Luigi has gone missing?”

  “Why? Has something happened to him?”

  On stage, the lights go bright, the dancer reappears and I wait for the loud music to start before I dare continue. “To be honest. I’m not sure. Does he have family? Someone you could call to see if he’s okay?”

  The bartender laughs bitterly. “He always said if something happened to him, no one would bother to go looking for him. I guess he was right.”