Rick Cantelli, P.I. Deadly Liaisons (Rick Cantelli, P.I. Detectives Book 2)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  Trish grinned over at me. “When you plugged the guy in the shoulder, and Lo and I tossed the bangs, it was everything I wanted. Working with you two, and contributing in a way I knew all too well was just the way I wanted it. I admit the sappy shit with Lo revealing stuff from long ago kind of triggered a weird impulse in me I’m coming to grips with. I’m looking forward to Casablanca Night.”

  “You should. You can be the girlfriend that has Rick.”

  Trish leaned into me, gripping my arm. “Yeah, that’s right. We play the hand that we’re dealt, huh?”

  “That would be my advice.”

  Trish seemed satisfied with my Casablanca ending. “What’s next at work today?

  Good question. “I’m betting Bone found out more about our Doctor’s predicament. That one interests me, because I think Frank had it right about her wanting to find out about her husband’s supposed trysts to cover for her own.”

  “Not as much fun as warehouse shootouts, huh?”

  “Life’s an interesting game, Trish. If you’re taking up our line of work on a career basis, the interaction of everyday people must ring a bell somewhere in your head. Despite my penchant in the past year of getting into deep shit nearly every time I walk out my door, the P.I. business is not about excitement. Mostly, it’s mundane research, tracking the seamier part of people’s lives. Lately, we’ve also done some escorting service, security consulting work, and some bond skips mostly wanted for mediocre offenses. Those have been getting trickier since my year of *living dangerously. Case in point is the Pernel mess you enjoyed so much hearing about. I’m thinking of talking to Lo about not handling anymore skips.”

  “What fun is that? Why not let Bone and I work the skips with you as backup and advisor? I don’t mind doing installs with you either, but I suppose you have crews for those as a rule anyway.”

  Interesting idea. “That might work a lot easier with the skips if I’m in the background. As I explained, installs are Lo’s punishment for nonexistent offenses by Cantelli. You’re right, mostly our install crews handle those. These last two were a lot less boring with you, and I’m not talking about the violent endings.”

  “You really let Lo ride you like a playground pony.”

  “Guilty as charged. Lo’s like the older sister you wish would have ended up in prison by the time you grew up… but she sure does have her moments. When you’re facing down killers, Lo’s the one you want next to you.”

  I could tell, Trish thought for a moment about the warehouse battle. “I can’t argue with you there. She’s not bad at steaming the Hooterville Trolley either.”

  Small doubt about that.

  * * *

  Bone waited for us at the door. Lo was right behind him. “Rick, this Doctor Stuart case is getting weird. Even Lo thinks we’re getting set up somehow, and I’ve only been going over the financial dealings for the couple, along with following the husband on his listed outings. If he’s doing anything other than father duties, the Doc doesn’t have the right times or places.”

  Seems like standard no case. “So what’s the strange part?”

  Lo handed me a sheet with Emily Stuart’s expenses, and phone log from her personal accounts. “Check this out, Rick.”

  With Trish looking over my shoulder, I scanned the sheet. Oh shit. Hotel rooms in San Francisco, Wine Country weekends a couple times in just the last few months, and hundreds of phone calls to a personal cell phone belonging to a Doctor Perry Denton: Chief of Surgery. Last but not least, four five thousand dollar debits from her savings account. I looked up at Lo with what I knew was my grizzled cynical face. She nodded.

  “Yep, that would be my take on it, Rick.”

  “Hey,” Trish said. “What the hell? Turn off the mind meld, and let us mere mortals without psychic powers in on this. I get the affair indicators pointing at our Doc Denton. What…”

  Trish frowned. “God, I’m getting stupid. She hired a hitter. You two think she hopped on Rick when she saw him at the hospital because of his notoriety involving killings in recent past events. Who better to have on the case if the hitter screws up, kills her husband, but gets plugged by Rick? All loose ends are tied up without much of an investigation. Damn, that’s some cold shit, especially since he’s the father of her two boys.”

  Bone handed her another sheet. “No, he’s not. He’s her second husband, and stepfather to the boys. He cares about them. I ain’t no expert on fatherhood, but what I’ve seen in person is the real deal. The first husband died under mysterious circumstances. He was the father of the two boys.”

  “A black widow?” Trish shook her head, looking at the sheet. “I thought that was Hollywood movie glitter. He helped pay for her education while working construction, after the two boys were born. She excelled and six months after she completed her internship, he collapses at thirty-two from an apparent heart attack. I guess she handled that one herself. Do we hand this over to the cops?”

  “A couple problems with that, Skipper,” Lo replied. “One, the way we gathered info on Doc Stuart, and second is the husband will be dead before the cops move on this if they ever do. Rick and I are out of touch with hitters. Is twenty thousand a reasonable amount for a simple nobody hit?”

  “You have to understand something, Lo. Most real hitters won’t touch something like this. There’s enough safe mob action where we know our employer, that it’s stupid to take a hit from some nobody. If our little Emily attracts a hitter, it’ll be a novice – a gang banger, drugged out hitter no longer trustworthy, or psychopath looking for a way into the game. The hitter would be the perfect sap for this. You can bet Emily dropped the same list of hubby’s endeavors on the hitter that she did on us.”

  No rest for the wicked in Cantelli Land, and frankly, the group I’m with right now have had their moments on the wicked side. “If we hesitate on this, we might as well kill her husband ourselves. I see this the same way as Trish. It would be a win/win situation for Doc Stuart. If I don’t kill the hitter, I’d still be a witness to what went down. We need to move into high gear surveillance with this until it’s over. I think the four of us should be on the Stuart case until we out the hitter. I know a way to cement this too. I’ll call the Doc right now and say our investigation turned up nothing on her husband, with the parameters as set. Would she like me to end our surveillance or go to intense scrutiny of every moment he’s out of the house?”

  “Do it,” Lo replied. “That will give us a final hint on this. Good input, Skipper. Go on over with Shelly, and she’ll explain our computer system to you.”

  “On it, Granny.” Trish headed over to Shelly’s desk immediately.

  “What the hell, Rick? Did you break our wild horse already?”

  Bone patted Lo’s shoulder. “Who cares? She ain’t taking hits. That’s a good thing, right?”

  “That’s exactly right, brother,” I replied before Lo could answer. “Pay no attention to the instigator. It might be Trish actually wants us to succeed as a business. I know I do, so I’ll get on the phone call to Doc Stuart.”

  “Bone and I will do some serious hacking, but if she agrees to our price, meet with her and see if you can clone her phone, Rick. If this starts going sideways, I want something besides a few phone records. Besides, we may be able to get a name for this amateur Skipper thinks might take a gig like this.”

  “Okay, Lo.” I went in my office. Shelly and Trish seemed to be doing well together, so that in itself was another positive on a day where instead of routine, we had yet another quirky case we needed to see through to the finish. I had to leave a message on Emily’s cell-phone, explaining I wanted to talk with her about the case. Since Lo wanted me to clone the phone, I figured I’d set up a meeting where I could present Bone’s more palatable surveillance, followed by a choice for her to go on with the full surveillance package, or drop the case. That meant she’d drop it, but we wouldn’t until we were sure of what was happening. The Doc’s reaction when she heard my name at the hospital n
ow made more sense. My line rang.

  “Do you have some news on my case? I called as soon as I could.”

  “Is there a time today we could meet, Doctor Stuart?”

  A pause on the other end was a good sign. “Sure… I have a minor surgical procedure at eleven. It’s only a little after eight now, so this would be a good time. Can you come to my office?”

  “That would be fine. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Thank you.”

  It took five minutes for Bone to put together a credible looking file report with her husband’s comings and goings. He handed it to me at the door with advice. “Don’t drink anything she offers you at the office, brother. Knowing you, it won’t be harmless.”

  I can tell he’s been hanging around the Gorgon too much lately. “I don’t think I have anything to worry about. She wants me to kill someone for her. I need to be alive to do that chore but I’ll be careful, thanks.”

  He chuckled and handed me the file. I waved at Trish and Shelly before heading out. Since I could hear Lo cackling in her office, I figure she had her bat ears on to hear Bone’s warning. There have been books written about women who kill, and since Doc Stuart appeared to be one of them, it would be wise not to take much for granted. The drive over there actually missed the usual commuting stoppages so I arrived right on time. Her actual office was in a building near the hospital on the third floor. Emily’s office staff consisted of a couple assistants and a secretary. I introduced myself, but I could tell they had been prepped to expect me. The secretary knocked on the inner office door with the Doc’s name on it.

  “Mr. Cantelli to see you, Doctor.”

  “Oh good. Come in.”

  Emily came around the desk to shake hands with her award winning smile. She had on an unusual outfit for doctoring: tight red, low cut dress with hem ending at mid-thigh, and black medium heels. Her auburn hair hung loosely around her face, and it was obvious she had put on fresh lipstick. While returning her smile, I scanned the desk for her cell-phone. She had it positioned on the desk for quick pick up. I placed my briefcase on the desk across from her as she slid into her seat, while giving me an eye full of the near Promised Land. I opened my briefcase, and my notebook computer with it. My cloning program searched, found her smartphone was in discoverable mode, and in the moments it took to get her report out, the cloning was done. I closed up my briefcase, opened the file and handed her the hardcopy workup of our surveillance on the husband. I didn’t see any surprise on her face with what she saw, and Bone had put it in client understandable form, with times, dates, and observations.

  She looked up at me after a few minutes. “So you don’t think there’s anything to worry about, Rick? I can call you Rick, can’t I?”

  “Sure. My partner, Lois Madigan, explained we’d give you an update on our findings. I don’t believe we’ll find anything according to the dates and times you gave us. You have the option to continue in this mode for a while longer, or go into full surveillance mode, where we follow him every moment he’s out of the house, or simply let this go and consider he may not be cheating on you at all.”

  Em surprised me by popping out of her chair, and coming around the desk to my side, sitting on the corner of the desk with one leg over the front, making my observation vista one most women don’t put on display – namely, she wasn’t wearing panties. She folded her arms over chest in annoyed form, while I admit I glanced and gulped.

  “Look… Andrew has not made love to me in months. What the hell do you think is going on?”

  I needed to get back in control of this. “You’re the doctor, Emily. I can call you Emily, right? Perhaps Andrew needs a checkup to see if there’s a physical problem he hasn’t shared.”

  She wasn’t letting this go. “You’re what, early fifties? I saw the way you looked at me when I sat on the desk. Andrew is thirty-nine.” She smiled. “Ever see that Tom Selleck, made for TV movie series about a cop named Jesse Stone? There’s one called Stone Cold, where Mimi Rogers plays a lawyer, who comes to Jesse Stone’s place and does this.”

  Yes, I’d seen the entire series and loved it. No, I didn’t move as Emily did a terrific imitation of exactly what Mimi Rogers did to Tom Selleck. She hitched her dress up to the point she could straddle me, and did so. I’m pretty fast on my feet, but in this position I opted for Selleck’s line in the movie. “Wow.”

  Emily patted my face. “Yep, that’s the one. I feel something other than professional interest rising to my example.”

  Damn it! I forgot for a few seconds why the hell I was here in the first place. Screw this, and I don’t mean Em. “I’m sixty. I’m not dead, Doc. Okay, so Andrew may still have a physical ailment. I’ve given you the report on his whereabouts along with your options. Please pick one, and-”

  Emily leaned in abruptly, and began kissing me. I don’t mean she only molded her lips, tongue, and moaning noises of want into the situation, she started a writhing dance on my lap I was already ill prepared for too. Adina and Trish flashed into my head like a chorus of ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’ just before the office door opened with both gasps and cackles. The Doc popped off of me, adjusting her dress while fleeing behind the desk.

  “I…I’m so sorry, Doctor,” the secretary pleaded. “Ms. Madigan and Ms. Rocha told me they were meeting with you along with Mr. Cantelli.”

  Doctor Emily Stuart, red faced and breathing heavily, waved the secretary out. “Not your fault… not your fault… I’ll handle it from here.”

  The secretary bolted out of the door, closing it behind her. Em was staring down at nothing on her desk, but looked up after a moment, remembering she wasn’t a high school cheerleader caught in the backseat of a 57’ Chevy. “This I know… doesn’t look like anything professional.”

  Emily stood up, again with arms folded across chest. “I want the surveillance of my husband to continue in the escalated form. I am not dropping this case, but I insist that it be done by Rick, and not your subordinates. If that is agreeable, I’ll write you a check to get this started. I apologize for my behavior, but I am hoping for professional confidentiality here.”

  “Of course, Doctor Stuart,” Lo said, placing a form in front of her on the desk. “I was bringing the estimate for services. I’m sorry we didn’t arrive at the same time as Rick.”

  Doc Stuart barely glanced at the figure before taking out her checkbook and writing a check. Before she handed it to Lo, she jiggled it a little. “I’m serious about Rick being the operative on this case.”

  Lois took the check with a nodding affirmation. “Of course. I will have him on it from now on. Thank you for your time and patience in this highly delicate matter. We will be in touch with you on a daily basis if that is agreeable to you.”

  “Yes…yes it is. Now, if you will excuse me, I must get back to work.”

  “Of course, Doctor Stuart,” Lo said as I hurriedly gathered my briefcase. “We’ll be in touch with any and all updates.”

  Outside the office, I was toast.

  Trish played the cynical ‘I know it all card’ right out of the chute. “You certainly were selling our idea of involvement, Hooterville.”

  Lo had already busted up, her annoying escalated cackle on the way to the elevator devolving into whoops of enjoyment, bent over at the waist and at times unable to walk. I stayed silent. When I’m hanging on the chicken wire fence, stretched out for all known predators, I don’t feed the entertainment. Lo then did something I never would have figured. She grabbed Trish’s arm.

  “Get your head straight, Skipper. Rick didn’t elicit that scene. He’s the amusing side note to it. He wouldn’t hurt you, kid – not like this, and not with a predator like Stuart.”

  Trish nodded, somewhat reluctantly. “I saw it, Lo. It’s all still a little new for me with Rick. I’ve had a hottie FBI agent try to do him in the kitchen, and now a client goes biblical on him where he’s sitting in her office. Any idea how a geezer like him manages to stir up so much shit with so many women?�
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  Lois pinched her cheek. “C’mon now princess. If he hadn’t already been pushing all your buttons, I’d start thinking you were stupid. I don’t know how the old sloth does it. We sent him over here on a simple client conference, and in ten minutes time, Hooterville comes out smelling like wild skank sex. When Stacy appeared out of his past, it unleashed a pheromone that even her being in prison hasn’t dissipated. What do you have to say, Hooterville?”

  I’ll wing it. “How in hell did you show up at that moment?”

  That set in motion a chaos of back and forth between the two, ending with Trish holding her hands up in surrender. “Okay! You were right to such a creepy extent; I don’t want to talk about it. You need to get that X-men Magneto helmet, Rick. This bitch knows everything you’re going to do or be part of in seconds. She just suddenly grabbed me in the office, and brought me here. What the hell?”

  I stood up straight, and hung my head in deference to Spock-ella. “Welcome to my world, kid.”

  Trish and I both had to endure the whooping Gorgon Snoopy dance Lo performed, uncaring if strangers might appear in the hallway or not. It lasted way too long, but after a few moments of it, Trish was laughing too. I walked on alone to the elevator, pushed the button, and waited. When the door opened, I held the elevator until my companions joined me.

  “That was an ace for all time, Lo.” No use in ignoring it. I might as well own it, not that I would have any choice, as I’m sure the harpy would retell it until we were both dead.

  “I was with Bone in my office when it struck me. We were going over her call log in depth and her estimate sheet, when I figured out you didn’t have to worry about Em poisoning you, but you did have to worry about her compromising you. I grabbed Trish, and the estimate. It was a win/win. If you and the seductress had been discussing things, I’d have handed you the sheet, made some small talk, and left you to it. I’m glad I arrived on time like the cavalry. It looked like the lap dance without panties was morphing into Cantelli Land.”