Sotello: Detective, ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 1)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Oh my God, think about that one Jay,” Tank said, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Governor Sotello… hell, we almost had to arrest him a couple of weeks ago.”

  “If that ever comes out, he’ll win by a landslide,” Jay stated firmly. “People are hungry for some old fashioned justice, and we just can’t give it to them without ending up in prison ourselves.”

  “Would you have gone with him to Placerville if he’d of asked?”

  “Hell Tank, after seeing Ellen, I would have arrived at the guy’s door after a high speed Samba in my squad car. I would do anything for the guy,” Jay said seriously. “God only knows where you and I would be if not for him sticking his neck out for a couple of rookie strangers.”

  “Just wanted to hear you say it,” Tank agreed. “Maybe we can get on his protection detail. You think we could work a temporary transfer if he gets elected?”

  “Hey, Clinton used to handpick his security people when he was Governor of Arkansas. I wonder if Jim will ask us.”

  “I don’t know,” Tank said thoughtfully. “He’ll have more to worry about than whether to ask us onto his security staff. How the hell could we do it anyway? We can’t pull up roots and just move on over to the big house.”

  “Sure we could,” Jay stated. “We need a change anyway. It won’t be for long anyhow. Hell, someone will probably shoot him before he’s been in office more than a month.”

  Tank burst into laughter, and soon they were pounding on each other’s backs, trying to get air. Tank recovered first. “We’re supposed to protect his ass you turd, not let him get it shot off.”

  “Yea, well we won’t do him much good when he starts preaching that protect our border stuff at a La Raza meeting,” Jay pointed out.

  “I guess we’d be the first security staff in California history to be issued riot gear at the start of each day,” Tank finished. “C’mon, let’s go see if he feels like cooking. I like his damn omelets better than my own…”

  “Don’t say it big boy,” Jay interrupted. “I will rat you out to Jill in a heartbeat.”

  “You would too, you prick,” Tank said. “Anyway, let’s go see if Jim has anything to eat. Call it in, and let’s have breakfast.”

  Before the two officers could even get to the office door, Sotello met them, with an apron tired around his waist. “Hello boys, I expected you five minutes ago.” He led them into the back kitchen, where he had laid out two plates, coffee cups, and silverware. Sotello had made them each a three-egg Denver omelet, with sausage links and hash brown potatoes.

  Tank’s face virtually lit up. Jay pushed him towards his seat. “Sit down, you big dope, before you drool all over Jim’s kitchen floor.”

  “You both should take this as a warning,” Sotello laughed. “You guys are getting so predictable, it may not be me in an apron waiting for you at your next stop. It might be a gang banger, with an AK47.”

  “You may have a point,” Jay admitted. “We’ve been governed by Tank’s stomach for so many years, we probably ought to be dead already. I hope they never think to do a crime study, and break it down to the time of the day on our beat. Tank and I will be hitting the soup kitchens for food to feed our families.”

  “Let’s talk about that,” Sotello said, pouring coffee for both of them. He poured and then placed the pot back in his coffee machine. “Would you guys like to make some extra money working security for me during the campaign when I’m up here in Northern California?”

  “Hell yea,” Tank mumbled, still chewing. “We’d do it for free, right Jay.”

  “He knows that,” Jay said.

  “I do know that Tank,” Sotello added. “We have a budget for security, and I can’t think of any two guys I would rather have with me. If a gig down in Southern Cal comes up, which only lasts for an overnighter, I’ll check with you two, and take you both with me if it doesn’t interfere.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jay said, as Tank nodded in agreement. “Is it true Darren Sanders is bank rolling your campaign Jim?”

  “You have good information Jay,” Sotello said in surprise. “Where did you hear that?”

  “It’s common knowledge Jim,” Tank said between bites. “Sanders has always had a hand in anything to do with politics. Was it supposed to be a secret?”

  “No, and I’m glad it’s out there,” Sotello replied. “I know Sanders rep does not exactly sparkle, but I want you both to know, as far as I’m concerned, he’s a stand-up guy. No one will be pulling my strings if I ever do make it into office.”

  “We know that, you blockhead,” Jay said. “It just means you’re pretty well connected. Are you thinking you may end up answering questions about his involvement all through the campaign?”

  “Yea,” Sotello admitted, “I guess I was.” Sotello told them the story behind Sanders involvement, and how he came to run for Governor in the first place. By the time Sotello finished his story, both of his friends were leaning back, sipping their coffee.

  “Gee Jim,” Tank laughed, “you sure live an exciting life. Can I have your autograph?”

  “The Ramon guy we hauled off the street went back and killed the woman you were walking with. I don’t see how you will ever keep them from pursuing the facts through on Sanders’ part in it, and your involvement,” Jay pointed out.

  “I don’t plan to,” Sotello remarked. “Sanders has his own machine to actually hold up our end of any negative press reports, and it will be based in truth. He gets asked about his involvement with me, and he tells them I helped get his daughter back, period. As to Lynn’s murder, with the way she wrote out instructions, it seemed more like a suicide. Things were looking up for her, but I didn’t know about the plot to murder both Phillips and Gina Sanders when they returned to the States. Ramon fooled her too. I think she planned on blowing his head off with the shotgun I loaned her, and he surprised her. She may have planned to offer him a bribe as she said in her final letter, but I bet she had planned on offering it at the point of a twelve gauge.”

  “From what you told us about her,” Tank agreed, “that makes more sense. Man, that woman was one dangerous bitch to get tangled up with.”

  “Phillips is damn lucky you did get involved Jim,” Jay added, “or he would have surely ended up buried on foreign shores.”

  “We could sell this screenplay and make a fortune,” Tank joked. “We could all play ourselves. Of course Jay and I would have to flesh out our parts a bit as befitting real life stars.”

  “I think you must be letting those sausages go to your head Tank,” Sotello grinned. “If you two stay around me for any length of time, you will get all the adventure either of you can stand.”

  “You want us to handle riot control this morning?” Jay asked.

  “I’m thinking it won’t be as bad as you think,” Sotello answered. “The press will be more vicious than some citizen coming over here with a sign. I only do business face to face by appointment usually anyhow. Most of my work gets done over the phone, so it won’t be like they can block my everyday livelihood.”

  “Except if they show up with rocks instead of signs,” Tank countered.

  “True, but in case you two didn’t know,” Sotello informed them, “the glass around here is bullet proof. It cost me; but when the kids started working for me, I made sure they couldn’t be picked off by some nutcase as they sat at the front desk. You guys already know the front entrance stays locked if anyone’s up front. We only unlock it if we’re in the back.”

  Jay nodded. “Still, you’ve got my cell phone number if you need help this morning. Call us if disaster looks like it’s forming outside.”

  “I will Jay,” Sotello agreed. “You guys think about what I said too about working security.”

  “We’re in,” Jay said. “As to the times, we’ll have to run them by the heads of our households.”

  “I am the master of my household,” Tank stated, as both Sotello and his partner doubled up in laughter. “Hey, what’s so funny, punks
?”

  “I inherited a dog from Lynn, named Tinker, who is more a master of the household than you are,” Sotello laughed.

  “Oh man,” Tank said, as Jay high fived Sotello, “that’s cold. I thought we was brothers.”

  Sotello walked over and put his arm around Tank’s shoulders as he walked him to the door. “I love you brother, but I do live in the real world, and here in reality my friend, Jill owns your ass.”

  “Yea, well, I do like to keep the peace at home,” Tank agreed, “but I still do not have to hear about it like I’m some puppet jumpin’ around on my wife’s strings.”

  “Oh yeah,” Jay said. “You are the Alpha Male, now let’s get back to work before they send out a search party. See ya Jim, call if you need us.”

  “Don’t forget about the barbeque with everyone at my house this weekend,” Sotello reminded them.

  “You don’t need to worry about that brother,” Tank asserted.

  Sotello watched them, until the two police officers were back in their squad car, and had driven off. He went back into the kitchen and cleaned up from the impromptu breakfast. Ellen was the next one to arrive, followed a few minutes later by her brother. Sotello had made more coffee, which he poured for them as they sat down at the table.

  “I smell breakfast,” Craig said, sniffing the air, “but I do not see breakfast. I deduce Uncle Tank has visited with his erstwhile companion Uncle Jay.”

  “Very good Number One,” Sotello said, confirming his hunch. “Now, would you two like some breakfast. I’m playing short order cook this morning.”

  “We’re on diets, so we look good for our public,” Ellen informed him.

  “Oh great, first your uncles want to make a movie about my life, with them as the stars, and then you two come in with delusions of grandeur,” Sotello sighed. “What next?”

  “Ellen and I should have our own press secretary,” Craig added in mock seriousness. “Our fans will want to know about our every movement.”

  “Do either of you self-absorbed toads have classes this morning?” Sotello asked.

  “I have my statistics class at eleven,” Craig answered. “Thanks be to Jesus, Ellen has managed to help me understand it to some degree. The guy

  I have for a professor speaks in hieroglyphics.”

  “I have two labs today,” Ellen laughed, “starting at ten. Do you need something done right away Dad, because we were just going to answer phones and study?”

  “I just wanted to remind you two about our Taiwanese client arriving tomorrow,” Sotello replied. “We still have to make some semblance of keeping our business going. If I do end up as the next Governor, I will be turning things over to you two on a fulltime basis. I will advise you on cases, but I will have to rely on both of you to keep the business alive, so I will have something to come back to.”

  “Will you still be going out with me?” Craig asked.

  “Yes,” Sotello answered. “We will do this just as we had planned. You will be the suave interpreter and guide. I will be the bodyguard. I have already set up the limousine service to drive us. We’ll use the same service I’ve always used. I asked for Danny Lau to be the driver. They said he was available for the dates we have picked, and you both know him, not to mention he speaks Chinese.”

  “Sounds good Dad,” Craig replied. “Won’t you be afraid your fans will recognize you, and start mobbing you on the street right in front of our client?”

  “No, smart ass,” Sotello laughed. “I will not be worrying about that. Can you still work the boards Ellen?”

  “Sure, I’ll make things go as smooth as your campaign so far,” Ellen answered.

  “In that case,” Sotello replied, “you’re out of this case.”

  “You didn’t think last night went smoothly?” Ellen asked innocently.

  “It actually went better than I expected,” Sotello said. “The rest of my appearances will be booby trapped. I am sure every special interest group, which I butted heads with last night, will be out in force wherever I go from now on. I hope Adrian can book me into places where I can at least get a few sentences out before the disruptions start.”

  “He was against you doing the one last night,” Craig reminded him. “So I think he’ll try and follow that one up with something more positive.”

  “You’re probably right,” Sotello admitted. “I don’t mind the head to head confrontations, but if every stop turns into a shouting match, I won’t get a chance to convert anyone.”

  “What time does our client’s flight arrive tomorrow?” Ellen asked.

  “They’re due in at six o’clock in the evening, and they wish to go out to dinner right from the airport, which will not be difficult since they have reservations at the Mark Hopkins Hotel. Unless something comes up, we can eat there too. We’ll get her bags up to the room, and let her freshen up before going down to dinner,” Sotello told them. “She wants us back at her suite promptly at ten o’clock the next morning. I have a list of Silicon Valley companies they wish to visit, on top of the convention part. The entertainment end, after the completion of her business, will hinge on how tired she is.”

  “Do you want me in a tux, or will a three-piece suit do?” Craig asked.

  “The suit will be fine for tomorrow,” Sotello answered. “We’ll play it by ear after that.”

  The phone rang, and Sotello answered it. He recognized Phillips’ voice in his ear.

  “Jim, have you seen the papers yet?” Phillips asked, his voice betraying what had to be good news.

  “No, but from the way you sound, I must have fared well so far,” Sotello said, grinning at Ellen and Craig, who had moved closer.

  “The Tribune commissioned a phone poll right after the meeting broke up last night,” Phillips explained excitedly. “You and Davidson are in a virtual dead heat.”

  “You’re kidding,” Sotello said in astonishment. “How the hell could they get a meaningful poll done on such short notice? How many people did they call, ten?”

  “Some big liberal backers of Davidson wanted to bury you before you even started,” Phillips answered. “They paid big bucks to get a poll done with some poorly disguised push polling techniques, but it backfired on them. The Tribune ran with it on the front page, because they were already committed. Their editorial department did everything on the inside of the paper short of a print lynching, but it won’t do any good. The Davidson people have already started calling for debates this morning. Even better, some of the more liberal papers in the State, I figured would bust your chops, apparently saw a heads-up on the poll. They backed off on some of the harsher lines I’m sure they intended for you. Good Lord Jim, we have hit the ground running after all.”

  “Have you seen any reaction to the live newscasts?” Sotello asked.

  “Oh hell yea,” Phillips laughed. “The local news shows did man on the street interviews to try and offset the positive look you achieved at the auditorium, and that backfired too. The people loved you. I just wanted to be sure you were there. I’m in my car on the way over right now. I want to watch the morning shows with you. You’ll be at the office, right?”

  “We’ll be here today,” Sotello answered, “but then we have a client flying in from Taiwan tomorrow afternoon. We don’t have another town hall thing until Thursday, and they fly back on Thursday morning.”

  “Can you make a few local press deals early in the morning? We need to ride this wave,” Phillips pressed.

  “Sure,” Sotello answered. “I will be available every minute I’m not on the job.”

  “Outstanding, see you in a couple of minutes.”

  Sotello heard the line go dead, and hung up the phone. He filled in his anxious daughter and son, while turning on the television they had in the kitchen, and looking for news channels. On Fox News, they were replaying the meeting from the night before. Sotello sat down as they watched the meeting, completely enthralled with how well it looked on television. The motion detector for the front office went
off, and Craig checked on who it was, and then let a very pumped up Adrian Phillips into the back.

  “That’s already the second time they’ve replayed the meeting this morning, Jim. The coverage is incredible. Because I was scared out of my wits, I missed just how well you came across to the crowd. Fox caught it, and their crowd shots show an audience just plain mesmerized with what you were saying,” Phillips paused, waiting for a commercial before continuing. “They even dragged in a few of the real lefties in Hollywood, who are just seething.”

  They watched the rest of the replay in silence, and then began flipping around to the local news programs for updates. Craig surfed right past a middle-aged black man, with graying hair and mustache, dressed in coveralls, where they heard Sotello’s name. Craig backtracked to try and catch what the man was saying.

  “…what that fat broad know,” the man finished angrily. “Just like Sotello said, she humps around in her limo with armed guards protectin’ her kids, while she want to keep us poor folk defenseless. Hell yea, I’m votin’ for the man. He works in East Oakland just like me. Davidson can take those Hollywood pinkos and kiss my…” The camera cut away to an amused local news anchor, who smiled out at the audience.

  “As you can see,” he commented, “feelings are running high after the surprise showing by Gubernatorial candidate Jim Sotello in Oakland last night, to launch his campaign. Many groups, lampooned by Sotello last night, are moving quickly to portray him as a racist xenophobe, who wishes to make California into an armed camp with closed borders. As you saw in our street interviews, that message has not caught on with the general public.”

  “Sotello married an Afro-American woman named Cynthia Grimes. They raised two children, who were both in attendance at the launch of his campaign last night. He has been a widower for the last five years. He speaks five languages fluently, and it will be very difficult to sell a smear campaign with only shouted slogans.”

  As they broke away for another story, Craig surfed on. They picked up on four different interviews with positive feedback. The only negative material came from an impromptu protest, set up by La Raza down in Los Angeles, where they burned an American flag, and Sotello in effigy. Sotello laughed as they capered around, shouting anti-American slogans in Spanish. “I could not get better press than that,” Sotello said, shaking his head. “They burn me and the American flag at the same time. That will help their cause.”