E is for Exposed

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E is for Exposed Page 14

by Rebecca Cantrell


  She wadded up a piece of paper and threw it at Aidan. It bounced off his back. He closed his browser and swiveled round on his chair. “What’s up?”

  “I have a meet set with Turbo Prop at his place and I’m going to need some air traffic control. Let’s go.”

  “That was fast.”

  “I figured we’d better get to him before they really get their hooks in.”

  “Good thinking,” said Aidan, getting up, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and putting it on.

  “You might want to strap your shoulder holster on under that.”

  “For that guy? You think I couldn’t handle him without a gun.”

  “I’m thinking more about creating an impression. If you know what I mean.”

  Aidan smiled. He did. He knew exactly what she meant. They’d run this routine before.

  As they settled into the drive to Ricky’s place, Sofia decided that maybe they should talk about the current elephant in the room: Aidan’s reaction to not being chosen for a job he was only trying to land so they could bust the people who would give it to him.

  “I know I tease you, but I totally get your reaction to not being picked over Ricky.”

  “Right,” said Aidan, staring straight ahead at the 10 freeway. The only change she noticed was his hands tightening around the steering wheel so that his knuckles went white.

  “People don’t realize how hard it is for actors. Even though it’s a job, you can’t help feeling they’re rejecting you as a person.”

  “Yeah, must be brutal.” Now his lips were starting to thin. Another danger sign. Maybe she shouldn’t have suggested he carry his gun on this run.

  “And I guess they are. In a way.”

  “They are what?” he said.

  “Rejecting the person they see in front of them. A lot of the time casting directors are looking for a specific type. Certain height. Certain look.”

  “Huge schlong?” prompted Aidan.

  “Yeah, in this case, I guess. Anyway, it’s more a case of knowing what they don’t want.”

  “Hey, Sofia?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Of course. What is it?”

  “It might be asking too much.”

  “Just tell me already. What do you want me to do?”

  “Stop talking until we get there.”

  “I can do that.”

  Ricky lived in the Oakwood apartments on Olympic and Olive. A complex of at least two hundred units, it was home to a lot of people renting short term while they tried to break into the business, and a bunch of freshly separated or divorced men. Aidan parked the Porsche on the street and they got out.

  “You do the talking when he opens the door,” said Aidan, buttoning his jacket to conceal the gun tucked into his shoulder holster.

  “I thought you wanted me to stop talking?” Sofia knew he hadn’t wanted her talking to him in the car, but this was payback for him being so sensitive.

  “Stop being such a smartass.”

  “One minute you want me to be quiet. The next you want me to talk. I’m just asking for some consistency.”

  “Are you going to bust my balls, or are we going to do this?”

  “I’m going to bust your marbles. How about that?”

  “Hilarious,” said Aidan, his expression deadpan behind the sunglasses he’d put on as soon as he’d gotten out of his Porsche.

  “I thought so.”

  They reached the entrance. A couple were walking out. Aidan held the door for them and kept it open so he and Sofia could scoot inside after they’d exited. They kept walking towards a bank of elevators. There was so much traffic through places like this that it was unlikely they’d be stopped. And if they were stopped by someone, they could just sign in. Ricky already knew Sofia was visiting him. But it was usually better just to show up directly at someone’s door. That way they couldn’t have a last-second change of heart and tell the doorman or concierge not to let them any further, or to call the cops.

  Not that Ricky was going to bar Sofia from getting to his apartment. Not when he thought it was a booty call. Or at least she hoped so. Her rejections by Python and the Highlander had shaken her confidence a little.

  The elevator opened on the fourth floor and they got out. A guy was in the hallway with a golf club, some balls and a mug. They skirted round his putting practice and hung a right.

  “Recently divorced,” said Aidan, when they were out of earshot.

  “How’d you know?”

  “Oh, come on. Who else spends their time in a corridor practicing their short game? It’s either that or leap off his balcony into the traffic on Olympic.”

  They reached the apartment door.

  Sofia eased Aidan to one side. “He thinks I’m making a booty call, remember?”

  Aidan lowered his sunglasses and looked Sofia up and down. “You could at least have made an effort for the guy. Y’know, wear a skirt, dab on some perfume.”

  It was Sofia’s turn to flip Aidan the bird, which she did. He smirked.

  She knocked at the door and waited. She might not always get on with Aidan, but for this part of the job she was glad to have him along. He’d saved her ass a couple of times since she’d joined the agency.

  She didn’t have to wait long. The door opened. Ricky stood there wearing a smile, and nothing else, his Turbo Prop spinning for all to see. Sofia was glad the golf resident wasn’t practicing in this stretch of corridor. His short game might never have recovered from the shock of Ricky’s long game.

  “Oh, hi,” said Sofia, trying not look below waist level, which was a lot tougher than she’d imagined.

  Aidan stepped out from the side of the door. He opened his jacket to reveal his shoulder holster. “Hi,” he said, with a big smile. “May we come in? Before one of your neighbors sees you and calls Animal Control.”

  “Hey, what the hell is this?” said Ricky, loud enough to worry Sofia.

  “Relax, we’re detectives,” said Aidan. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just need to talk.”

  “Detectives?” said Ricky.

  “Out of Malibu,” said Aidan, choosing his words carefully so as not to end up on a charge for impersonating a police officer.

  Thankfully, Ricky was still new to Los Angeles and didn’t know that no detectives operated out of Malibu. It didn’t even have a police force. It relied on the LA County Sheriff’s Department for day-to-day law enforcement. The only Malibu PD you’d ever see was on a cheesy cop show.

  “Okay, you’d better come in,” said Ricky. “I’ll go put some clothes on.”

  “Good idea,” said Aidan.

  “Hey, can we still have that wine?” said Sofia.

  Aidan slapped the back of his hand against her arm. “We’re on duty.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. She’d really wanted a glass of wine. It had been one hell of a long day and they weren’t even close to it being over. And she figured it might get Ricky talking. But Aidan had a point. Real cops tended not to drink on duty. At least, not while interviewing people in their homes. Not usually anyway.

  Ricky disappeared into the bedroom. Sofia had a thought. “What if he tries to climb out of the window or something?”

  “We’re on the fourth floor.”

  “Then what if he has a gun in his closet?”

  Aidan’s smirk was back. “What? Right next to his superhero costumes? I doubt he has a gun—and, anyway, as far as he’s concerned, we’re cops come to talk to him. He might be packing, but I doubt he’s a cop killer.”

  “Oh, he’s packing all right,” said Sofia, clearing some space on the couch, which was covered with comic books. Aidan was right. Comic-book collectors weren’t usually gun-toting maniacs. Not the ones she’d run into anyway.

  A few minutes later Ricky walked back into the room in jeans and a University of Southern California sweatshirt. Sofia winced. Their mascot was named after a condom. Or maybe vice versa.
/>   “Go Trojans,” said Aidan. “You an alumnus?”

  “Old girlfriend, she left it here.” The way Ricky said it made it sound like the breakup was recent and painful.

  “So sit down, Ricky, this won’t take long,” said Aidan.

  Ricky perched next to Sofia on the couch. “Are you really cops?”

  This was one question you had to be careful how you answered. Brendan had impressed that upon Sofia from day one. It was one thing to say you were an investigator and leave out the private part. You could even at a push say you were a detective, as long as you didn’t say you were a police detective or mention any law-enforcement agencies. But you couldn’t come straight out and say you were a cop, especially not when you were asked directly like this.

  “We’re investigators,” said Aidan, digging out his wallet, and handing Ricky his Maloney Investigations business card. “I’m former LAPD. Brendan, who runs the agency, was an LAPD homicide detective. Now we try to head off problems before those guys have to get involved. Saves a lot of people like you from having to deal with them, and maybe prison.”

  “Prison?”

  That had gotten Ricky’s attention, which was a good sign. It meant he had likely never been in prison. People who had didn’t get twitchy when it was mentioned.

  “Yeah, blackmail’s a very serious federal offence,” said Aidan.

  Sofia had to hand it to him. Aidan was good at gravitas, and getting someone’s attention. It was definitely an ex-cop thing. Brendan had the same air of authority.

  “And what about you?” Ricky said.

  “I’m a—”

  “She played a cop on TV,” said Aidan. “But now she’s an investigator with us,” he quickly added, as Sofia gave him a death stare.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Ricky. “Half Pint Detective, right? Man that show sucked balls.”

  “It was a show for tweenage girls, not The Shield,” Sofia shot back.

  “It still kind of sucked, though, right?”

  Sofia let that one go as Aidan struggled to keep looking serious.

  “Does that mean I was about to bang the Half Pint Detective?”

  Okay, that was kind of gross. Sofia had started on that show when she was twelve. “First of all, eww. Second of all, no, you weren’t. I have a boyfriend.”

  “Girls say that all the time. Then they get a load of this,” he said, looking down at his crotch.

  “Not this girl.”

  “They say that too,” Ricky countered. “I’m not that kind of girl. Oh, my God, I’ve never seen one like that before. It doesn’t count if it’s just the once. They say all kinds of junk.”

  “If we could get back on track here,” said Aidan, sounding miffed.

  Maybe he was annoyed at Ricky’s boasting about his superior size. Or maybe he really did want to get down to business.

  “Sure,” said Ricky. “It’s only, y’know, chicks say stuff, and it’s not true a lot of the time.”

  “Yeah, well, this chick tells the truth, Buster.”

  “That’s another thing they say.”

  Aidan slammed his open palm down on the coffee-table. “Listen up. We’re here because you are about to take a job with a bunch of people who are about to be arrested, then face some serious jail time. So I don’t give a rat’s ass what chicks say to you, or what they don’t.”

  Okay, Aidan had Ricky’s attention. That was good because Sofia was starting to take a serious dislike to the guy.

  “Now, we think it would be in your best interest to call them and decline their offer of employment, because from what we know this may well be covered by a conspiracy charge. That means you could easily get roped into any charges that the district attorney brings.”

  “But this was my big break,” Ricky protested.

  “Really? Stripping for housewives?”

  “Hey, it worked for Matthew McConaughey.”

  “That was a movie. Y’know, made up. He didn’t get his break stripping.”

  “A lot of people do, though. Didn’t you read about Gray Cole saying in an interview he did this kind of gig when he was starting out?”

  “He may have, but he regrets it now.”

  “That wasn’t in the interview.”

  “It wasn’t, but it’s true.”

  “So where did you read that?” asked Ricky, not buying it.

  “He told me. He’s a friend of mine.”

  “Sure he is.”

  “What? You want me to call him?” Sofia said, digging out her cell phone.

  Aidan’s eyes looked like they were about to roll out of their sockets. “This is why I hate actors. Listen, Ricky, you want to go join another group of morons who shake their junk around on stage, be my guest. I don’t care. But you join this group, and you’re walking into a whole heap of trouble.”

  “Hey, wait a minute. So what were you doing auditioning?” Ricky got up from the couch. “You just want me to turn down the gig so you can get it.” He waved the business card at Aidan. “You could have had this printed up anywhere.”

  Aidan got to his feet. He clamped a hand on Ricky’s shoulder and pushed him back onto the couch. “Sit down and shut up.”

  It worked. Ricky sat down and didn’t say anything. Aidan wasn’t pretending to be pissed off either. Sofia could tell.

  “Listen, I know you show business types aren’t always the quickest on the uptake,” Aidan said, side-eyeing Sofia, “so let me break this down for you. We have a client who came to us because she’s being blackmailed over a sex tape featuring her and one of the Beef Cake douchebags. Now here’s where it gets interesting. Her husband is a cop with a bad attitude and a temper. What do you think a man like that is going to do to someone after he’s kicked his old lady to the curb?”

  From Ricky’s wide-eyed expression, he seemed to be getting it.

  “I’ll tell you what. He’s going to go looking for the man who defiled his beloved. Now, the only thing he has to go on from what we’ve seen is a big schlong. He may locate the offending big schlong. Or he may just find the first large Beef Cake schlong he can, and cut that one off. I mean, does yours have any defining features, apart from its size? A tattoo halfway up the flagpole?”

  “Eh, no,” said Ricky, shaking his head.

  “Right. So what if he decided to cut off yours? That sound like a price worth paying for your first break? Dude, this is your USP right here.”

  “My what?”

  “Your unique selling point. It’s an advertising term,” Sofia said.

  “Thanks,” said Aidan, before turning back to Ricky. “Now if you want to check who I or Maloney Investigations are then search Google or make some calls. We’re the real deal. It’s time to make your decision.”

  Aidan dug into his jacket. Ricky shrank back, thinking he was going for his gun. Aidan came up with his cell phone. “Make the call, Ricky. Tell them you’ve had another offer.”

  “What kind of offer?”

  “I dunno. Tell them you’re stunt double for the next live action remake of The Jungle Book for all I care. But you take this gig and I swear I’ll make sure your name is on the indictment when it comes down from the DA’s office.”

  Ricky took the phone from him. Sofia wanted to stand and applaud. That had been the best performance she’d seen this week, including all those times Gray had pretended to be straight.

  Ricky punched in the number Aidan gave him and put the phone to his ear. “Hi, this is Ricky . . . Yeah, from the audition . . . Yeah, the guy with the . . . Yeah. Anyway, I’m really sorry but I got offered some body double work for a movie. It’s shooting in Vancouver starting next week for six weeks.”

  Sofia gave Ricky a thumbs-up. She knew how hard paying work was to come by. Especially when you were starting.

  43

  They were in the car on the way back to the office when the burner phone that Aidan was using for this job lit up. He clicked the answer icon and put it on speaker so Sofia could hear the other side of the conversation.
Sofia grabbed her phone and jotted down the incoming number that was showing, just in case it wasn’t a number they already had.

  “Hi, is this Clark?”

  “Yeah, hi, who’s this?” said Aidan.

  It was always good to ask for a name, especially early on in a covert operation when you weren’t meant to know much about the targets, even if you did because you had background-checked them.

  “Oh, this is Cherry Jacobs from the Beef Cake Boyz audition.”

  Sofia punched in the name to the notes app on her phone, then copied it into her Google browser so she could run a basic search while Aidan took the call.

  “Speaking. Great to hear from you, Cherry.”

  “I’m happy to say that I have some good news for you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” said Aidan.

  “Yeah,” said Cherry. “We’ve given your audition some thought, and we’ve decided that we’d like you to become the newest member of the Beef Cake Boyz.”

  Aidan tapped the mute icon. “She’s such a liar,” he said to Sofia.

  “Never mind that. Tell her you’d be delighted to accept before she changes her mind again. I’m not going through that whole routine we just did one more time.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “Clark? Clark? Are you still there?”

  Aidan untapped the mute icon. “Yeah, I’m here, and I’d be delighted to accept. It’s always been a dream of mine.”

  Sofia rolled her eyes. He could just have said yes.

  “Right, whatever. Your dream, I get it. Anyway, we need to get you up to speed on the routines as soon as possible. Can you come by the same place we saw you this evening around eight?”

  Aidan hesitated. Sofia knew he had a date, but that was the deal with undercover work. It involved irregular hours.

  “Tonight?” he asked.

  Sofia nudged him hard in the ribs.

  “Sure, I can do tonight.”

  “Great, we’ll see you then.”

  Sofia put her hand up for Aidan to high five. He left her hanging.

  “What? You got the gig,” she said.

  “Yeah, but I was still their second pick.”

 

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