by CC Dragon
“I see. Well, firing a weapon in a residential area is illegal unless you’re defending yourself. Can I see the gun?” He returned our driver’s licenses.
I led him to the kitchen counter. “Right here. There were some special circumstances. A man was hiding in the backyard and he rushed out of the bushes at me. It was self-defense. Trespassing is illegal. He could’ve been armed. I only fired warning shots right into the grass.”
Lying to the cops or feds was a good way to make more trouble. Unless it was absolutely necessary, I told some version of the truth.
“This gun is registered to you?” he asked.
“Of course.” Like I showed off an illegal gun?
“And you brought it from Vegas with you?”
“In my suitcase. Yes. I’m not looking for trouble.” I rolled my eyes at the by-the-books cop.
He’d learn eventually. A more seasoned officer would’ve pegged me as connected to law enforcement already.
“Good to know.” He didn’t sound convinced.
Jordan chimed in. “People have a right to defend themselves.”
I really didn’t need the help. “The guy blatantly trespassed. I told him to leave and he refused. Did he file a complaint?”
I already knew that answer was no or the cop would’ve started there. Not that there had been time. Getting to the cops first was an advantage.
“Not that I know of.” He inspected the gun, pulled out the clip and so on. Basic baby cop stuff.
Then he noticed the note. “Where did you find this?”
“My sister found it on her car this morning. Sonia is being stalked. Naturally I was even more on guard for trespassers. I told her to call the police. She’s very scared.”
“She contacted you first because you own a gun?”
“Because I have a gun, I’m her sister, I’m a black belt, and I was married to an FBI agent for ten years. She didn’t want publicity.” I grinned at him. The tables had spun. “I had every reason to suspect my sister was in immediate danger from anyone trespassing on her property.”
The cop looked a little nervous now. “FBI? Field office?”
“He’s out of Chicago. Todd Morris. Check if you want.” I nodded at the radio on his shoulder.
My ex and I were on generally good terms, and to help Sonia I’d abuse the connection. The cop actually called it in and then inspected the note while he waited for answers. He was so new at this he probably thought whatever he was doing was the most important thing anyone at dispatch had to deal with.
“Who could’ve done this?” he asked.
“She left the side door to the garage open, so anyone. Can we file the report here? She’s worried about going to the station and making it a tabloid story. Obviously the reporters are hanging all over her because of the divorce. It’s a zoo!” I wasn’t looking forward to any of it.
“I can take the info here, sure. We’ll have a team come out and check for evidence so you both need to stay out of the garage.” He nodded.
“Not a problem.” Duh. I’d have searched it myself except I didn’t want to disturb it any more than Sonia had.
His radio chirped and I walked to the staircase to let him chat.
“Sonia, get down here. Time to talk to the police,” I called upstairs.
I turned back to the cop. “Going to write me up for illegal discharge?”
He smiled at me. “No ma’am. Self-defense is your right. But you’re not going to carry that weapon concealed in the state of California, are you? Nevada law doesn’t apply.”
I smiled and lied to his innocent face. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Giving up my gun was not an option. What the Boy Scout didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me. Nevada was open carry, which meant I had to display my gun to carry it. California still hid their guns, so anyone could be carrying and you just never knew.
Sonia appeared on the stairs looking like a billion dollars. Flawless make up, perfect hair, and a killer red dress—that was the Sonia I knew.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I hope this won’t take too long. My sister and I have a party to attend tonight for my new show. I can’t tell you how I admire law enforcement officers now that I get to portray their drama and heroics on television.” Sonia was such an actress.
“Darling, you look fabulous.” Jordan gushed.
I went in search of my diet soda and possibly a splash of rum for it. My sister was in full actress mode and I’d just been enlisted as her bodyguard for a party. At least she was on board with talking to the cops and having me for a shadow. She was high maintenance but not stupid.
Parties and stalkers...I was in Hollywood hell!
Chapter Four
Our baby-faced cop left and I still had my gun so it was a win. He’d taken the report and promised to have someone check out the garage. Stalkers were like missing persons; unless you could prove immediate danger the police wanted to wait and see how it played out. You couldn’t put a restraining order on someone without a name. Plus, Hollywood stars could afford bodyguards. The police spent more time arresting wild celebrities.
At least Sonia hadn’t gone that route. She wasn’t out of control or a rehab frequent flyer. However, the divorce had triggered a bit more drinking than normal.
Jordan had dashed off home but promised to be back soon. Then Sonia disappeared upstairs. After a little searching I found my sister in the massive bathroom upstairs.
“What party?” I asked.
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing major. It’s for the band that did the Fed Files theme song. I have to be there. You don’t really need to go.” She dabbed powder on her neck, already looking model perfect.
“Yes, I do. I’d rather not have you so exposed. I didn’t bring a dress or anything.” I picked up a small jar of eye cream and tossed it from hand to hand. While I wanted her under house arrest, it simply wasn’t practical.
Her perfectly sculptured eyebrow arched at me in the mirror. “That jar is a thousand dollars.”
“For this? You’re crazy.” I awkwardly grabbed it out of the air and carefully set it down.
“I have to look good. Don’t worry about your clothes, because Jordan will bring something. He’ll fix everything.” She pulled a few sets of large flat earrings out of a box. “Which ones?”
This was way beyond me. I’d dressed up for plenty of FBI dinners and weddings to look presentable but cutting edge fashion was a different level. I’d watched enough Sex and the City to know designer names but couldn’t tell Gucci from Dolce.
There was a dark pink pair with silver on the edges. Big silver dangling ones. And red beaded ones that would hang down to her shoulder.
“I think I’m going to dig the bullets out of the garden,” I said.
“No, never mind that. Lupe will get them tomorrow. I’ll wait for Jordan on the earrings.” Her hands fluttered like nervous butterflies. “It’ll be okay, but just please wear whatever he has and don’t argue.”
“Why would I argue?”
“You always argue.” She stomped her heel.
I didn’t this time and changed the subject instead. I needed to know who had access to the house.
“Is Lupe the new housekeeper?”
“Of course, I sent her home today. I couldn’t let her see me this down. She acts like a mother, but she’ll be in tomorrow morning. Don’t worry, she’s from an approved agency. Why are you so suspicious?” Sonia added a layer of gloss to her lips.
I pulled her off the stool to stand and face me and held her by those bony shoulders. “Why? Wake up! Sonia, you’ve got a stalker. Someone is trying to scare you, hurt you, or possibly even kill you. That is more important than a party. More important than a divorce. Than a show. Than your career. Do you understand me?”
She looked down. “So hide out and let them win?”
“No, but don’t make their job easy either. Listen to me and use your head. You texted me, you want my help. Try to do it my way, because self-defense is my
area.”
She nodded but frowned at the floor.
“What?” I asked.
“You need some new shoes. Bet you need a pedicure too.” She grabbed my left hand. “Definitely need a manicure.”
“Stop changing the subject. No one cares what I look like.” I tried to pull my hand away when the doorbell rang. Sonia let go and dashed off.
“Jordan!” She ran down the stairs and threw open the door.
I stifled my lecture on peephole usage for another day. Jordan obviously lived very close, which could come in handy. I’d have to check on Danny and someone had to watch Sonia. Jordan seemed the safest choice.
He lugged several garment bags up the stairs. “Ready? Fashion show time!”
I was in real trouble.
“I just need one dress.” Where did all these come from? Jordan was effeminate but didn’t strike me as a drag queen. He was too tall anyway; I’d never fit into anything of his.
“These will let us find one great one for you,” Jordan grinned. “Trust me.”
“I just don’t have anything a size ten.” Sonia shrugged.
“I’ve got plenty. Since they fired that supporting actress for gaining forty pounds, I’ve got it all.” Jordan hustled the two of us into the bathroom and hung them on the mega shower.
“They can fire people for that?” I asked.
Feeling like a freak, I folded my arms over my C-cup chest. At least I didn’t have to buy boobs. Jordan being in the wardrobe department meant he had access to clothes. I hoped they were nothing too out there.
“Sweetie, it’s a TV show. Your sister is a four, max. The new supporting girl is a six. Bernadette is a zero. The camera does add pounds. This former star blew up to a fourteen. Can you imagine? Size can absolutely be in the contract. Actors are hired for image as well as talent.” Jordan opened one of the bags. “Now get out of that shabby wear, it’s hurting my eyes.”
I folded my arms tighter and stared back. What did they have against normal clothes?
“Hel, stop.” Sonia gave me the hurry up wave. “You can’t go like that.”
“Relax, we’re all girls here. I fitted that size fourteen so I’ve seen worse.” He sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub that fit four, legs crossed in a very prim way I couldn’t have pulled off in my secondhand prom dress.
I tugged my T-shirt over my head and pulled off the black boots. Finally I unbuttoned the jeans and slid them off. Down to a black bra and matching hi-cut cotton panties, I removed my watch. Looking from Sonia to Jordan, I tried not to smile.
I wasn’t a size ten from flab. It was just my hourglass body type. I felt comfortable with my size, shape, and ability to kick the ass of anyone who didn’t like it.
“Nice muscle definition. You do work out a lot.” Jordan nodded approvingly. “All that karate does a body good.”
“Muscle looks bulky on camera.” Sonia gave me a model pout.
Jordan rolled his eyes. “Sonia, honey, you don’t have to be a toothpick to be hot. JLo, Queen Latifah, Beyonce, and Eva Mendes are all smoking! They get the hottest men and they’ve got curves.”
“But Hel’s white,” Sonia said matter-of-factly.
Jordan reflected. “You’ve got a point. White girls can’t be curvaceous here unless they’re Dolly Parton. Even she had to build Dollywood. Damn! The world just isn’t fair. There is that bass singer and some models are breaking in.”
I nearly busted out laughing at their serious analysis of how I’d fit in or not.
“I don’t care about my curves. I don’t want to be a model or an actress. I need an appropriate dress so I can stick near Sonia, that’s all. I’m protection so I need to blend in.”
“A Hollywood ninja. Love the attitude!” Jordan gushed and seemed to relax around me. He pulled open a different garment bag. “The legs and arms are so toned. I’ve got just the dress!”
It was sleeveless, not strapless, thank God! My curves didn’t sit well in strapless, especially if there was a chance I’d need to fight. The dress was shorter than I normally wore with a nice square neckline and classic cut in a shimmery black fabric. Overall, I didn’t hate it.
“Try it on.” Jordan handed it to me.
“I expected something more out there. Like Sonia’s fashions.” I slipped it over my head and tried to ignore the price tag of over ten grand and the designer label. It fit, a little snug in spots, but good enough.
“Sonia gets photographed and followed. She must always be cutting edge. You...odds are no one will notice you. It’s a nice black dress, and you can add a colorful wrap for a change of looks. Just don’t wear it to the same place twice. I’ll leave the others in case you need them. They’ve got no use for them at the studio.” Jordan adjusted my cleavage so more showed and nodded.
“I’m not here to party.” I looked at myself in the mirror and wasn’t scared, despite the amount of skin showing. The price tag made me a little nervous about spilling anything but I had to fit in a little.
“You need some makeup and hair, but it’ll do,” Jordan said.
“Help me with jewelry, Jordan!” Sonia opened her box of accessories yet again.
“Helena is so pale. Can’t you get her an appointment for a spray tan?” Jordan whispered, like I couldn’t hear him.
“No tan,” I cut in.
I’d tried fake tanning once for a friend’s wedding. Some girls weren’t meant to tan, at least not me. I came out orange even following all the directions.
Sonia ignored me and talked to Jordan. “Why didn’t you think of that when she showed up?”
“I’m here to take care of this and go home!” Weren’t they listening at all?
Jordan turned to me and flipped the topic. “So you’ve got an ex. FBI yummy like Mulder?”
“He’s attractive.” I didn’t like the direction of this talk.
“Why’d you drop him?” Jordan focused on reworking my hair.
“She’s stupid,” Sonia said. “Todd is nice, smart, and hardworking. Boring clothes, but good looking and always getting promoted. We never knew where they’d move next.”
“Exactly. He kept changing jobs. I got tired of moving around. I told him for years I wanted to settle down so we could start a family but he didn’t listen. I needed the divorce before I really resented him. Men!” I looked up at Jordan. “No offense.”
He grinned. “None taken—men are a pain in my ass too. How long since you divorced him?”
“About eight years. I have a degree in teaching I never used in a real school because I would’ve had to move districts every other year, thanks to Todd. That means starting at the bottom in every new district.”
“You teach martial arts,” Sonia said.
“True. I still had to start over, gain respect and trust. It never stopped. He moved up and I started over at the bottom.” As much as I loved Todd I couldn’t live my whole life like that.
“You could’ve had kids and stayed at home,” Sonia shrugged.
“Now you sound like Mom,” I replied. That’d shut her up. “I didn’t want my kids moving around not having the same friends or school system. Kids need stability. We had that growing up. Look how well we turned out. You’re a big star and still need my help. That’s family. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
Jordan sighed. “Thank the good Lord for that. Sonia’s been a wreck the past week worrying about the stalker, the ex, and the show. Now let me at that makeup.”
“I’m wearing makeup.” Okay, so my hair was average. A little gel, the right brush, and a blow dryer and I had no issues. I wore the basics of makeup daily.
“Please, you need actress makeup and hair, not rest of America makeup and hair or you’ll fade into the background. Maybe we’ll find you a sexy stuntman.” Jordan steered me to the vanity and sat me down.
“Don’t overdo it.” I gave in to the force of Jordan. I was outnumbered.
“Let him fix your eyes at least. You need some lashes,” Sonia said.
�
�Fine, do you have a black bag that’s big enough to fit my gun?” I asked.
They had their priorities.
I had mine.
Chapter Five
Our limo stopped in front of a massive Bel Air mansion. The pounding bass of music coming from the home could be heard the second the driver opened the door.
“Are you sure?” I asked Sonia.
“I have to go, Hel. Everyone will be here. It’s prime time on a big network. We’ve got to create as much buzz as possible for the show.” She stepped out, all smiles as the cameras flashed.
For a moment I contemplated going out the other door but I’d have to go in the front door by the reporters anyway. The closer I stayed to my sister, the better. I gave her a few feet and then stepped out. Jordan came out behind me and offered his arm, taking us both in.
Sonia seemed more at ease with a man on her arm even if he was gay. She had always wanted male attention. The flash of cameras and shouting of reporters would help her ego at least.
“How long will this last?” I asked Jordan as we got inside.
“All night for the rock stars. Don’t worry, she only has to make an appearance and listen to the band play their song for everyone. A few pictures, give some quick interviews, and she’s done. Nothing major but it helps the show. Sonia has an early call tomorrow so they won’t let her party all night. Let’s get some drinks. You need to learn to enjoy the perks of being a hanger-on.” He steered me through the crowd to the bar.
“I don’t like being away from Sonia.” I got a Diet Coke with cherries and surveyed the mega-mansion. All the exterior doors were open and the crowd spilled out onto the surrounding grounds. An epic staircase led to a second floor of what I could only assume was more of the same.
I didn’t need any Hollywood experience to tell me what would go on up there. It was like a high school party only with less fear of getting caught and a lot wilder sex, plus better illegal substances. The spacious landing at the top of the stairs held all the necessities for a rock concert.
