Trish reached over and grabbed my arm. “I’m in love with you, Rick. You know that, don’t you? I loved your letters to me in prison. I looked forward to your visits so much I sucked up to the guards just so I wouldn’t get a bad mark. When you were late showing for a week, I cried where no one could see me.” She released my arm, turning away. “God… some pathetic contract killer I am.”
“Hey… kid. I’m right here. I don’t know where anything is going right now, but you’re living with me, and I have no complaints. If you’re thinking I’m going to move from my heavenly position with the sun in my face, and a Bushmills in hand to add to your moment… sorry… I’m not that Rick.”
Trish sobbed, laughed, and straddled me with a ballerina’s ease of movement. She wiped at her eyes. “I want this Rick.”
I didn’t spill a drop of Bushmills, but I confess that Trish’s maneuver was disturbing my relaxed state. I set the drink aside, moving to take advantage of yet another blessing when reality screamed into my moment.
“Get a room! What the hell, Cantelli!
Trish laughed and spun over into her chair, grimacing only slightly from her shoulder wound. I picked up my drink again. “Oh good, it’s the attack of the Gorgon. Hi Frank. This is Trish.”
Frank came over and shook Trish’s hand. “I’m glad Rick is seeing someone who doesn’t run for the hills when my wife arrives.”
Trish smiled up at Frank while shaking his hand. “She does seem to have that effect on people. It’s nice meeting you Saint Frank.”
Lo had eased down into a beach chair next to me, pouring two more Bushmills. “What the hell do you mean, Saint Frank? Are you hinting my husband must be in line for Sainthood for putting up with me, Skipper?”
Trish leaned back, hand on chin, as if deep in thought. “Yes… that’s it exactly.”
Frank enjoyed the exchange, sitting down next to Lo. She handed him his drink. “It’s a beautiful day. Lo told me about the new FBI recruitment ploy: blackmail. This is going to be tricky, huh?”
“You got it, brother. We know why the FBI tries to steer away from these type stings lately. They have so many leaks out of the Justice Department, if they were a boat, there’d be nothing left but the motor. That will be our problem too. Once I accept the job, the FBI will claim only three people know about it. That will be a lie. They’ll want to move on this quickly. It will be only a matter of time before whatever entity is building this drug pipeline finds out what happened here. I agree with the fast moving aspect, but I doubt it will help. If this turns into a trap, there will be casualties. We have to prepare for the worst.”
“If Lo agrees about taking this on, I’ll call Suero tonight, and find out where this tire wholesaler is in LA. She should have a name for me, supposedly in strictest confidence who will allow us to do our install. I’ll go see him. I need to recon this building. With all the things that can go wrong up there, I’m thinking of finding a spot where I can use a rifle, while Lo and Trish control the floor. I still have six military grade bangs. What do you think, Lo?”
“You’re dead on about the trap possibility and leaks. I like the sniper nest idea. You can pop anybody that lifts a weapon, and we can follow up with the bangs. There is one problem, Rick. You can’t use your M107. They’ll do ballistics and match it to the Alvarez hit.”
“I thought of that. I’ll use my modified Dragunov. It’s never been fired in the US. We also have to make sure we’re in place before they set up for the trap. They’ll likely set up outside, but we don’t want to take a chance like that. This is going to be tricky and dangerous, Trish. Are you sure you want in?”
“I never planned to die in bed, Hooterville. I’m in.”
We sipped our drinks, enjoying the slight breeze and warm sun. Lo held up a file before handing it to me. “That’s the print file for Dr. Stuart. She does have specific times and places she’s suspicious of, so I quoted her our rate for modified surveillance. Dr. Stuart faxed me a signed agreement, and paid the initial fee. She sure knows a lot about you from the news. I think the Doc was disappointed it was me who contacted her.”
“At first she asked Rick out for a drink. I thought she was hitting on him until she mentioned following her husband,” Trish added.
I didn’t want us going down that road. “Let’s turn this back to business. What places does the Doc have on her suspicious list?”
“The gym, and the office. She thinks he skips out near his firm’s closing time, before he’s supposed to be working out at the gym on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And yes, we need to be careful here, because the hubby is a lawyer.”
I put a bit more whiskey into my cup. “Wonderful, a lawyer. Where are her boys while all this is going on? She told us they’re eight and ten.”
“They have after school programs until six. He seems like a great Dad. I kept reading between the lines. It seems she’s at the hospital a lot of odd hours, and he picks up the slack, taking the boys where they need to be, helping with homework, etc. You know me. I filtered in a lot of questions she didn’t expect to answer and caught her off guard. By the time I finished my interrogation on the phone, I think the Doc was wondering if it had been her imagination all along - because it was the first time she catalogued all the activities the husband covered for her on.”
“I hope she does realize what she has and drops the case,” Frank said. “I hope she’s wrong, but when Lo told me all the things this doctor never thought twice about that the husband does, I started wondering if it was her screwing around.”
Lo and I exchanged surprised glances at that insert. “Damn. Frank may be right, Lo. We’ve seen that happen before with the professional couple. It’s usually the guy that’s hittin’ it in the office, but wants us to tail his wife around, thinking to get something on her for leverage.”
“It would be easy to test out the theory, Rick,” Trish said. “Meet her and put some Hooterville moves on the Doc. If she goes for it, you’ll know Frank’s probably right.”
“Ah… no!” I stated while Lois and Frank laughed.
“Anyway, let’s keep that in mind about the Doc,” Lois said. “I’ll have Bone pluck her records at the hospital and phone logs tomorrow while you go to LA. We need to cover our asses in case the Doc is pulling something the lawyer husband may not think is very funny.”
I leaned back again. “It’s always a good idea to be extra careful with the lawyers. Remember that one who was going to sue us for harassment when we gathered video and pictures of all his trips to the mistress living in an apartment he was paying for with financial evidence.”
Lois cackled at that memory. “Stanley the lawyer… I remember him well. Cleaver shut his water off quick. The wife fixed old Stanley up, but good. He’s probably living in a cardboard box on her patio.”
“I hope it works out for them,” Frank said.
“I do too, brother. I’ll walk the line carefully on that one. I think you’re onto something with the Doc. Maybe she’s met someone, and decided to throw her life away in one of those damn midlife ‘nothing’s good enough for me’ spells. It happens. If I clear the husband to my satisfaction, I’m going to take it one step further on the Doc. Maybe if she’s faced with a little evidence going the wrong way, she’ll count the blessings she has.”
Lo sighed. “That’s a stretch, but I hate like hell busting up a family with kids.” She held up her cup. “This beach meeting was a damn fine idea considering the crap we have on tap for the next few days. Salute.”
We toasted with her.
Chapter Nine
FBI Faceoff
The moment was a good one, a time between heaven and hell, or hell and purgatory. Then, just as we settled down in our chairs sipping in comfortable silence, my excellent peripheral vision picked up three uninvited guests to the party, striding toward us in the sand.
“We’ve got visitors, Lo.”
She nodded without looking. I pulled my beach bag nearer, and waited until Agents Suero, Conus,
and Mesker were only a few feet away before I straightened in my chair. I waved. “I was going to call you. We’ve decided to take the case. We’re going to need five thousand dollars up front to cover my initial contact and install.”
They laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all, Agent Suero. We’re not doing the FBI’s bidding as a freebie.”
“You’ll do what the hell I say when I say to do it, Cantelli!” Suero didn’t like my price tag at all.
“No… he won’t.” Lois stood up, as I reached inside my bag. “Listen closely, you little fart in the wind. We’ll get your job done, but we’re getting paid up front, or you can kiss my ass.”
Suero chuckled unconvincingly, because when Lois faces you down, you root hog or die. I didn’t know what Suero planned, but I aimed to root hog. “The famous Lois Madigan… I know you.”
“If you knew me, you’d be running for your car along with your two cub-scouts. Rick and I don’t scare. We trimmed little cunts like you without drawing a deep breath.”
Lo got just what she wanted. Suero played into it and decided to get herself some. In fifteen seconds flat, Suero was buried face first into the sand. I had my Ruger pointed at the cub-scouts, and we weren’t bluffing. Conus and Mesker had read my file. They put their hands up, because anything else would have meant a boat trip for them and Suero out into Davey Jones’ locker aboard our boat, The Harpy, at least that was my name for it. Trish giggled as Lo rubbed Suero’s face in the sand for a few seconds before pulling her up by the neck, gasping and spitting sand.
Lo shook her head by the iron grip she had on Suero’s hair, fisting her face close as Suero sobbed and spit. “I have contacts I can call to put your pussy ass in prison for trying this extortion shit on two CIA agents. Here’s what we need from you assholes by tonight: blueprints of the building we’re doing the install on, and the one contact we’re supposed to trust during this debacle. Here’s the deal. If your usual leak fest at DOJ gets one of us killed, then think of it as war if you leave any survivors.” Lo shook Suero’s head. “Do you understand what I’ve just said? Don’t speak, just nod.”
Suero nodded enthusiastically. Lo patted her cheek. “This lesson was a freebie, kid. Don’t come up on my radar again. You and your little friends here are on our list from now on. I hope everything progresses nicely without any betrayals or you’ll find out what hell on earth really means. You feel me… bitch!”
Again an enthusiastic head shake. Lo pushed her toward her partners. “Head for your car with your hands up in the air. Drop a hand, and Rick blows it off. Go now.”
They went... with hands up. We settled back in after watching them out of sight. Frank filled all our cups again. He held up his cup. “Apparently… for the near future, during our golden years, we will be busy. Lo… that was so much fun. Salute!”
Yep, we toasted, and I was left wondering about those contacts Lo porked Suero with. I smiled complacently at the thought of the database someone with her skills probably had. I enjoyed the memory of Suero’s sand covered face even more.
* * *
Lo would have let us stay at the beach house, but I told her she and Frank should do an overnighter. She agreed, and Frank loved the idea. We could have all stayed, but having the two mean girls in the same house overnight I figured was a bad idea. Trish and I had taken a cab over, so we took another back to my house. I changed her bandage. By the time I finished, the pain pill on top of the Bushmills had taken their toll. I put her to bed.
Suero had everything Lo had asked for at my e-mail drop, along with an angry note about threats and assaulting a federal agent. I smiled. Blow it out your ears, sweetheart. Lo doesn’t bluff with feds. I’d seen her smoke more than a few back in the day. The FBI had agreed to the upfront five grand. I had a good buzz on, but it was early, so I made a 3D structure with the blueprints. It was a very similar structure to Gibson’s. I created a similar install with added outside cameras to pick up on uninvited guests. I needed to do a walk through, but I saw an open faced, second story storage area that would be perfect for my sniper’s roost. I then checked our inventory sheet. We had everything I’d need to do the install in house. I planned to load our install van up first thing in the morning if Suero showed up with our check.
Terry’s Wholesale Tires had been in business a long time. It was family owned. A son in his fifties owned and ran it a lot like Mick Gibson. Terry Woodsum had a couple of partners, due to the housing market and banking collapse, which he had survived in spite of some holdings which were lost causes. The investor named by our informant wasn’t a semi-innocent party like Tennyson, caught short on cash, and fudging to stay afloat. Derek Jamison fronted for someone. It wasn’t clear who though. He was the oddball I didn’t like seeing tied up with Terry Woodsum. Mick got caught up in an affair with Marlo. She used him to get her way with the drug transfers. I wanted to meet Terry, and find out what made him let Jamison into his business. We age, and we become cynical as hell. It’s called survival instinct. When young, we let people slip into the cracks of confusion our youth falls prey to. Some of us never wise up. For me, I err on the curmudgeon side, where if I’m wrong, I’m old. If I’m right, I do a Snoopy dance and survive another day. Then the doorbell rang.
This being a quarter past seven on a Tuesday following a Monday from hell, I brought my Ruger 9mm with me for company to the door. I peered out through my security eye. It was Agent Rita Suero. Oh good… I’m sure happy to see her on my doorstep. I thought of FaceTiming Lo into this, but that would have been just too much fun. Besides, Suero might have a federal check on her person, which could mean an early load up for LA tomorrow morning. I stuffed the Ruger into my belt at the back and opened the door.
“Agent Suero… what a surprise. C’mon in. I hope you have a check for me on you, because if you don’t, I have nothing to say to you, and your visit will be hell a short.”
Her face went into instant torque, but she knew I didn’t give a crap as to her position, her arrogant, blackmailing scam gone awry, or any other bullying technique from her academy days. It was lay the cards on the damn table or get the hell out of my sight time. She handed me an official envelope. I opened it, and there was indeed a five thousand dollar check inside. Well, at least all the prep work I’d done wouldn’t go to waste. I motioned her in.
“Okay… we have a basis for interaction. I’ll show you what my install will look like in 3D, geared on the blueprints you sent me. I will still need to check the building out in person, but I’ll have everything I need.” I turned to lead the way into the kitchen where my laptop incursion had taken place.
“Do you have anything to drink?”
“Water, soda, devil’s brew, what would you like?”
“If you have any Scotch, I’ll have a double.”
Uh oh. I was being polite. I don’t want Rita tanking in my house. I’ll go with an initial response of a good host. “Glenlivet?”
“That’ll work.” She followed me into the kitchen.
“Take a look at the install I have in mind while I get you your drink.”
I turned the laptop toward her with full screen display, and got busy pouring her double. She settled down to peruse my creation with furrowed brow concentration. I could tell she was embarrassed about the beach house scene, and grateful I wasn’t doing a happy dance at her expense over it. That could change in a heartbeat. I placed her drink in front of her. I sat down across from the FBI scanning of my install mockup. I avoided chumminess with this bitch at all costs. The most fruitful thing that had ever happened to this kid was Lo smearing her face in the sand. Whether she used the lesson to her benefit or not was the unknown. She drank half the Scotch, and met my polite gaze.
“The more I investigated you and Madigan, the more questions rather than answers came up. I hate that! You CIA spooks twaddle around, mixing into domestic law and cases, without any outside supervision! You assholes believe you’re above the law!”
Okay… I
get this… I’m supposed to sit here while Cinderella rakes me over the coals for nonexistent offenses. I don’t think so. “If you want to spew that shit, Agent Suero, finish your drink, and get the hell out of my house. I’m not some turnip that bounced off the veggie delivery truck. Get a grip! You’re used to using people. Lois and I can’t be used. We’re old. We’re dangerous as hell, and we don’t give a rat’s ass about how you feel about it, kid.”
Instead of responding, Rita slugged down the rest of her drink and pushed it toward me. “Fill ‘er up.”
Oh boy. I’m at a crossroads. I play this safe for a number of reasons. I FaceTime Lo while refilling Suero’s Scotch double. “Playing with the FBI tonight, Lo,” I whispered, as I turned the iPhone toward Suero.
“Oh… oh my God! Thank you, Rick!” The Gorgon hesitated, I’m sure looking at her mate. “Frank’s nodding, so please put the phone where we can get a viewing.”
I surveyed my scene, tilting my iPhone into a position on the countertop where Suero would not notice. “How’s that, Lo?” I couldn’t see, so it was guess work.
“Perfect! The bitch is clear as day. Make her say something so I can check audio.”
Leave it to the Gorgon to think of everything. “Would you like something back, Rita? Do you want a Coke, or water?”
Rita glanced up at me, hesitating while thinking about it. “Yeah, Rick, I’ll have a Coke back if you have one.”
“Perfect,” was the final pronouncement from Lo in a very hushed voice. I knew her and Frank were lounging while enjoying this unexpected entertainment. I was kind of enjoying it myself, now that I had Lois as a witness. I brought Rita’s refill over to her, and regained my seat at the show.
“So what about the just released Trish Rocha, you once put behind bars for contract murder, but now employ?”
“We didn’t free her. She talked me into taking a chance on her ability in our line of work. She’s proved to be very knowledgeable about several aspects of our business.”
Rick Cantelli, P.I. Deadly Liaisons (Rick Cantelli, P.I. Detectives Book 2) Page 12