Rick Cantelli, P.I. Deadly Liaisons (Rick Cantelli, P.I. Detectives Book 2)
Page 11
“Yep.” Lo hung up and I saw they had finished with the feeling good Trish. She was joking around, making the doctor laugh, so I figured it was time to take her home. “Ready to go, Trish?”
“Sure am, Cantelli. The Doc here has finished sewing me up.” Trish straightened suddenly. “Hey Doc, you okay?”
The doctor was staring at me in a mouth frozen posture. “I… that is… ah… you’re Rick Cantelli?”
I tried placing this doctor, but I gave up. Auburn hair, angular face, close to five and a half feet tall, probably late thirties, and she had one of those award winning, good bedside manner smiles. I couldn’t remember ever meeting her, so I just answered. “Yes, I’m Rick. I’m glad you were able to see Trish so quickly.”
She smiled. “Sorry. I’ve read so many headlines about your exploits, it’s a shock talking to you in person. I’m Emily Stuart.”
I shook hands with her. “Thanks, Em. Ah… is it okay to take Trish home?”
She backed away from the table, gesturing in innocent fashion. “Sure, she’s all set to go.”
I helped Trish off the examination table. “Nice meeting you, Doc. Thanks for patching up my partner.”
Doc Stuart grabbed my hand. “Ah… could I take you out for a drink sometime, or however it is you get hired?”
And the long day gets longer. “You’d like to hire a private investigator?”
Emily nodded. “I want to find out if my husband is cheating on me. I didn’t know if you have other people handle that part of the business or not. It seems you handle all the gunfights, and I doubt you’d have to worry about a gun battle tailing my husband.”
Trish laughed at the last part of Emily’s hiring gambit. “Actually… the gun battles happen rarely or not at all. I had a bad year. You could realistically describe it as a very bad year. We do the type of work you’re interested in, but usually a spouse doesn’t really need a P.I. to find out if a husband or wife is cheating. The clues are normally pretty plain. Were you interested in a professional so as to gather evidence in a divorce proceeding?”
The Doc looked away. “I don’t want to get a divorce. We have two boys, aged eight and ten. It would crush them if my husband and I split up, but not knowing, and suspecting is driving me nuts.”
“If I might make a suggestion, it would probably be better to let the infidelity either become more obvious, or actually talk it out with him, especially if you want to avoid a divorce. This type of case usually ends badly.”
She turned back to face me once again, her mouth tightening. “No, Mr. Cantelli, I have to know, and I want the proof. I know you’ll need a lot of background on this. That was why I wondered if we might meet for the consultation privately because of my screwed up work schedule.”
I handed her a card. “My e-mail address is on the card, Doc. Send me a list of suspicions, and a time schedule for the places your husband frequents away from you: trips, work, business meetings, leisure activities, and everything you can think of related to his daily habits. I’ll look it all over, and e-mail you any other questions that come up.”
“That will work out much better. How much do you charge for this?”
“Let me look over your information, and I’ll try and give you a best and worst case scenario. It’s difficult to eliminate suspicions on a time schedule, but we don’t stretch it out any more than we have to.”
She held out her hand with a smile, and I shook it. “Thank you. You didn’t say much, Trish. Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”
Trish shook her head. “What Rick says makes sense. I’ve never been married, so I’m a poor one to make judgment calls on cheating spouses. Sorry, Em. My shoulder feels better though.”
“Change the dressing twice a day, and hold a compress of peroxide to it for five minutes before putting on a new bandage. That will eliminate topical infections. I wrote you a prescription for antibiotics and pain killers. Use the antibiotics by direction until they’re gone. Take the pain killers only as necessary.”
“When can I take off this stupid sling?”
Emily chuckled. “You can take it off any time after you leave. It’s mostly to keep your arm immobile because you’ll feel everything you do with your arm in your shoulder.”
“That’s clear enough. I hope things work out for you and your husband.”
“Me too, Trish. I want to see you in a week.”
* * *
The hospital pharmacy filled her prescriptions and we took a cab over to my place. Trish was quiet, listening to the polite chatter the cab driver made. After I’d paid him and we were out of the cab, Trish grabbed hold of my hand with her left as we walked toward my front door. “I liked the Doc. I forgot private detectives do the cheating spouse cases.”
“They pay the bills, but they’re the pits. Most of the time, we can prove it one way or another in a few days. We also do bail bond work, and missing person cases if there is a legitimate chance of finding the person. You don’t like the cheating spouse aspect?”
“It’s not a like or not like situation. Cheating spouses are what P.I.’s are famous for. I bet you’ve done a few, huh?”
If only you knew, kid. I unlocked the door, and held the screen door for her. “It was our bread and butter during down times. The security business keeps us from having many down times. I’ll admit most cheating spouse cases are tedious. We have to get specifics from the clients about why they’re suspicious. Otherwise, we don’t have anything to prove or disprove. Clients won’t believe us many times when we find no evidence of infidelity. When we can eliminate each listed suspicion, it avoids client confrontations. The client can then choose to pay for hour by hour surveillance with video of every moment the spouse is away from the house. That gets expensive.”
“I’d be pretty good at it.”
That goes without saying. “Yeah, I’m sure you became an ace on prep work for a hit. C’mon, it’s almost 4am. I’ll help you get cleaned up, and then get some sleep.”
Trish took off her sling. She leaned into me with erotic intent. Mission successful. “How about taking the edge off tonight’s gun battle memory, Hooterville?”
I held her to me at the hips, kissing her with gentleness rather than lust. “You’ve been shot, kid, and you know it’s a myth about the old lecherous P.I., right?”
“So that’s a myth poking me in the stomach?”
* * *
I managed four hours of deep sleep, showered, and left a note for Trish I would be by to change her bandage right after I dropped off my report to Staley. I had set out a water bottle, and prescriptions for her on the night stand. At the office, only Lois and Shelly were there. I waved at Shelly and went in my office to print out the report I’d completed at the hospital. I e-mailed the video file off my pad to Staley from our security feed, showing the crooks, and their automatic weapons assault when confronted. I then printed out a couple copies of the report, one for Lo, and one for Bill. Shelly met me on the way out.
“How’s the killer?”
“If you mean our employee, Ms. Fontenot, Trish is fine. Thanks for asking.”
“You don’t see it, do you, Rick?”
Nothing except an office manager with a problem keeping her nose out of my business. “Okay, Shell, see what?”
“Rocha’s acting as a catalyst for another set of weird events, just like when you hooked up with Stacy.”
That’s an interesting take I hope she’s wrong about. “Maybe. Shit happens. The only one who got hurt was Trish, and we busted a drug operation, while earning a nice payday. That’s business. Let’s stick to it. I have to drop this report off with Lo, and take a copy to the PD.”
Shelly moved aside. I didn’t look around. I continued into Lo’s office. She hadn’t stopped me on arrival, because she knew the drill. I handed her a copy. Lo finished it off in minutes. “If Staley’s not happy with this, he won’t ever be happy. Is Trish okay?”
“Yep. I’ll go see Staley, and come back. I have to look i
nto a spouse case for a Doctor who treated Trish. I’ll go over it with you after I’m through.”
“We haven’t had a good cheater case since you busted that meth lab by accident instead of the cheater. Think about the tendrils threaded into our lives after that one.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“I’ll bet. At least they have your old skank girlfriend still locked up,” Lo fired a parting volley as I cleared her door.
* * *
Staley had a meeting going in his office with three other suits. He saw me through his office window. Holding up a wait one hand gesture to his visitors, Bill motioned me to come in. He was excited. “Rick, I want you to meet FBI Special Agents Arlen Conus, Bret Mesker, and Rita Suero. This is my undercover C.I. and private investigator, Rick Cantelli.”
I shook hands with each one. They were all in their mid-thirties to early forties. It’s hard to tell with suits. Conus and Mesker were just under six feet tall, athletic looking, with regulation haircuts without a trace of gray in Conus’s dark brown hair, or Mesker’s nearly black hair. Suero had her dyed blonde hair shoulder length and in a tight tail at her neck. She was about the same height as the guys with heels. They each had a firm grip.
“The owner of Discount Tires wants a deal to provide testimony and links to a cartel using a major independent tire distributor as their conduit all over the country. This drug trafficking over the borders and across state lines means the creation of a task force with both the FBI and Homeland Security participating. I explained you were working undercover locally for me on this, but we had no idea about the extent of this operation.”
That’s a nice dance number, Bill. I handed Suero the file I’d finished for my tap dancing Captain of Detectives. “This is my official report regarding this morning’s operation. Until the crew opened up on us with automatic weapons, I had no idea it was anything other than tires.”
Suero went through the report as fast as Lo, and handed it to Mesker. “That’s damn good, Cantelli. Can we make copies of both the report and the video you have of the incident, Detective?
“Sure. Rick and I were hoping to hand this over to your task force with as thorough a start as we could provide.”
“We’ve heard a lot about you, Cantelli,” Suero said, as Mesker passed the report on to Conus, “Even before your name came up in this bust. I closed out the Teddy Alvarez file when he and his cohorts met with an untimely end.”
Uh oh.
Unfortunately, Suero went on. “Seal sniper, CIA field operative running a private investigation and security firm with your CIA handler, expert in unarmed combat, past dossier of operations with your handler, Lois Madigan, so classified we can’t even look at them.”
I repeat… uh oh. “Is there a question for me in there, Agent Suero?”
Suero grinned at her fellow agents before addressing me again. “The Discount Tire guy dealing gave us the name of an LA operation much like what happened to Gibson’s. We have a very large tire outlet, and a somewhat smaller tire outlet. There are partners in the large tire outlet, and Sam Wilshire told us one of them is setting up the smaller outlet where the owner fronts for a major LA drug distribution center. We want you to go up there, install your security system in the large tire warehouse, and catch these guys in LA.”
“I’m a local, Agent Suero. I do C.I. work for Detective Staley whenever our paths intersect on a case. I’m not employed doing it. Doesn’t the FBI do undercover operations any more, or did the budget crunch in D.C. ground you guys?”
Oh, they chuckled amongst themselves over that.
“We want a local to do it, Cantelli,” Mesker said. “That was a fine job you did earlier, especially since you were caught unawares. Think of it this way, you’ll know the score this time around.”
Lois is going to kill me if I let these slicks handle me like this. I’ll never live it down. “I’m sorry, but our firm is very busy right now, and I’m needed here.”
“Take a day to think it over, Rick,” Suero acts like she knows me. If she really knew me, she’d be installing bullet proof glass on her home windows. I don’t like where this is headed. “A couple things have come up. That military grade flash-bang you used last night, and the fact we’ve been considering reopening the Teddy Alvarez hit for further investigation.”
“Now, wait a damn minute!” Bill steps in front of me. “What the hell are you trying to pull here, Suero? I only brought Rick in to go over the details about the arrests this morning, not to get blackmailed into doing your job for you.”
Suero gestured in dismissive form. “Thanks for your input, Detective. Think it over, Rick. We’ll be in touch.”
The suits left, leaving only a vapor trail of extortion and innuendo. I grinned at Bill. This C.I. arrangement just took a turn for the worse. “Well, that was an interesting report drop off.”
“They blindsided me, Rick. I had no clue they were heading in that direction.”
“I only got four hours sleep after hell day. I think I’ll report into Lo, take care of a small case matter, and go home with a bottle of Bushmills. Like Suero said, I need to think this through when I’m not so beat. I’ll call you.”
“Sorry, Rick. I was all juiced about the bust.”
“Shit happens, Bill. See ya’.”
* * *
To describe Lois as pissed off would be like describing the Lunar moon landing as a little trip. She had listened intently, as I gave a nearly flawless rendition of the conversation, including the inflection used. “See, Rick, this is why we always figured we’d have to kill a few FBI agents one day. I want that bitch, Suero. You can have the other two.”
Yeah, I may have laughed inappropriately at the execution order of three federal agents. “I have a counter suggestion that might be fun. I’ll do the op up in LA, and while I’m doing it, Bone can tear these three FBI agents’ lives apart. Then we sort of kick back and piss all over them anonymously when they least expect it.”
Lois sighed. “That’s damn good, but Bone would have to do it without my FBI database worm. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were on to it like we’ve always thought. We’ll have to do this together. It turns out it’s a damn good idea you brought Trish home. If we do this gig in LA, we’ll need three killers. We’ll make sure we have extra camera feeds, Bone can monitor while this goes down.”
“Agreed. It was one thing to roll Bill on the Alvarez hit, but having the FBI digging around and possibly planting evidence is another ball game. I can’t say I’m sorry about the bang either. It saved our lives. I’m going to go take a quick look at Doctor Stuart’s e-mail I noticed in my inbox. I’ll let you know if I think it’s anything I want to pursue. I have to get home and change Trish’s bandage too.”
“Forward me the e-mail, and I’ll look over the case. Go home now, and do what you have to do. Take Trish over to the beach house, and explain the predicament you got us into.”
“Good one, Lo. Thanks. I think I’ll take some Bushmills with me. Stop by if you have anything interesting on the Doc’s case. One Bush shooter won’t hurt you.”
“I like it. Maybe I’ll stop and drag Frank over to be my designated driver.”
“Hell, take a taxi or limo. We’ll never live long enough to spend the money we’ve already taken in.”
Lois’s cackle followed me out of the office.
* * *
I still held the peroxide compress in place as Trish complained. “You’ve only got another couple of minutes you big baby. It’s bubbling like hell. That means this is needed. I have to get you healed up for an extortion job the FBI planted on me today.”
Trish went all business. “Okay, I was whining to annoy you. What’s this about an FBI extortion job?”
I explained it to her while placing a pad with antibiotic salve on it over her wound, and using the surgical tape to keep it in place. “Lois and I will be going up to do the job, and we’d like you along.”
Trish grinned. “What’s in it for me?”
“I’m in. Take me.”
“Lucretia MacEvil, and her husband, my brother by another mother, Frank will probably come over too.”
Trish grabbed my face in her hands. “Are you really coming on to me?”
“Absolutely. Want to come, or should I take my bottle and ice chest over by myself?”
Trish moved in so close our noses touched. “There isn’t another place on earth I’d rather be. These last few days with you since blackmailing you into taking me home from prison have been the most wonderful of my life.”
* * *
We were a half an hour later than anticipated getting to the beach house as I tried to add a little more wonderfulness at the house. Still, we made it out on the beach with my ice chest, Bushmills, and comfortable chairs for four, anticipating my partner Lois and husband Frank. It was a typical October day in San Diego at two in the afternoon. The sun cast its magic over the ocean from a cloudless sky with the temperature in the upper seventies. I made Trish comfortable, and then swam for a long while, clearing my head while loosening all my geezer joints. I emerged not only refreshed, but with all the FBI stress out of my system. I toweled off and sat down next to my dozing companion who had worn a light blue summer shift that was simply adorable. She stirred as I settled in to a helping of Irish whiskey.
“Wow, you were gone a long while. Damn, Rick, you look good. I thought so when you captured me, and I sure think so now. You wouldn’t be trying to hold onto lost youth would you?”
I laughed and sipped the wonderful elixir that went straight to my toes and back up to my brain. “No, kid, I’m simply staying in shape so I can do what I do for as long as I can. Being a P.I. is a goofy way to make a living. I dreamed of doing it since I was a kid, watching old movies with Bogart playing Marlowe. Then something wonderful pops up. Lo and I get a partnership in the restaurant. I get to go over there on Friday nights and be Rick from Casablanca.”
I paused, taking another long sip, and leaning back in the sun. “I know how to enjoy the fun times. I always have. Sitting here on the beach with you is one of those times, kid.”