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

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “On a more optimistic note, I believe we will have a few cocktails, eat a great dinner, sing a few songs, and probably not even see a dark side to this evening.”

  Bone sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I hope you’re right, brother.”

  * * *

  It was disturbing to say the least. We arrived and there was a mob to greet us. Frank had positioned himself to be first to our door. “What the hell, brother?”

  Frank’s shaking his head, smiling, and holding his hands up in placating form. “Lo made me drive her over here early. She jumped out of the car and interacted with the line of diners we’ve attracted for Casablanca Night. I confess she had a few before we headed over here. Something got her worked up after the work out at Jadie’s. I can’t explain it, but it is pretty entertaining so far. She’s been highlighting your latest case with a Doctor Emily Stuart. Rick… if this were the Internet out here, her retelling of the office visit between you and Stuart would have gone virile by now.”

  Oh joy. Bone and Trish are laughing their asses off already as they exit the limo, listening to what Frank’s explaining. I see my partner over working the crowd, and I have to smile. She’s having a great time. She owns the crowd. They are eating up every word and movement in her delivery, laughter, clapping, and pumping fists accompanied Lo’s storytelling expertise. Like I said before, I’ll have to own this one. As we approached, the crowd was enjoying a few of the remarks Lo finished them off with from our walk to the elevator after the incident, especially the one where I claimed to be the victim of a sexual predator. That really lit them up again, until I was spotted.

  “Oh look,” one lady said from near Lo. “Here comes the victim.”

  That announcement provoked good natured catcalls and sarcasm of a rather off color nature – all of it with rather disturbing crowd enjoyment. Apparently, Schadenfreude is alive and well on Casablanca Night. It’s human nature to smile at another’s misfortune. Hell, Lo’s spent a lifetime at it. The crowd was also appreciative of our newest member: the girlfriend who has Rick. Trish looked stunning, and the one shoulder strap covered up my fresh small bandage.

  “If you’re all done entertaining, Lo, maybe we could go inside. I see Tim opening up for the official Casablanca Night special.”

  Lois pointed back toward the parking lot. “Here comes the rest of the crew. Even Staley has the nerve to show up. Hey, he hasn’t heard the adventures of Cantelli meets the Doc yet.” Lo sighed. “So many people, so little time – a gift that just keeps giving. C’mon Trish, bring Hooterville along so you can do a number with our piano player Vince, while the people jam into the place.”

  “Okay, but I didn’t slam half a bottle of booze down before I got here like you did, Granny. I’m not buzzing around in harpy land yet.”

  That was funny, and earned the ultimate Lois compliment of making a gun out of her hand and shooting Trish. “Yep… one of these days, Skipper… right between the horns.”

  We hadn’t hustled Karen out of the mainland, because of her status, and the fact only a select few even knew she was related to Lois. We’d all been at the workout together, so we settled on waves of acknowledgement before going in. Jadie had again dressed in one of those see through dresses with spangles or designs in the right places. She drew Lo’s ire right away and finger of warning. Jadie clung to Ken and walked by. Danny and Karen walked in next with Temple hanging tight with Karen. She stuck her tongue out at Lo, and yelped when Lo made a slight lunge for her. Then the light hearted world descended once again into darkness. I glanced back at the parking area and Jadie’s place across from it. The glint of a night vision scope was unmistakable. I took down Lo and Frank with a sweeping no holds barred tackle a split second before the bullets whizzed by, shattering glass.

  “Sniper on Jadie’s rooftop, Lo! Run the herd! Trish! Help her!”

  I kept my white Rick coat on, pulling my .45 caliber Colt, recently reacquired from the PD. I heard Lo’s shots as she fired at Jadie’s building, scattering the crowd going in, while I knew dragging Frank behind something. I’d drawn the shooter’s attention. Zigzagging and ducking behind cars, I drew three more shots, the last uncomfortably close to a head shot. I heard the whiz of it streaking past my ear. They were silenced rounds I knew must be heating up the barrel. After ducking once more behind cover, I saw the area in front of our restaurant was deserted. I shed my white coat and shirt as I crab walked toward the building. I planned to get this son-of-a-bitch, and there wouldn’t be any secondary witnesses or testimony.

  The sniper guessed right on my second reappearance from a parked car, tagging me behind my right ear. It knocked me off stride, down, and in plain sight for a moment, but I heard Lo’s 9mm Glock fire off a clip I knew probably was within a foot of where she saw the flashes. That gave me enough time to regain my crab walk path. I could feel the blood streaming down, which is what happens anywhere near a head shot. I had enough faith in Lo’s shooting ability, that if the sniper took another shot, he might get clipped. You can bet she had an illegal fourteen round clip recharged into her Glock, and she would lob handgun shots in an oval around the next muzzle flash. Hand guns are not accurate at this type of range, but in the hands of someone like Lo, they are.

  I made it to the base of Jadie’s building. I knew for a fact I had this bastard. My only concern was the backup escape vehicle and driver. Believe me when I tell you I was scanning for the sucker from the moment I made it beyond our restaurant parking lot. I heard sirens, so I knew Bill got off a call for help, which meant my planned bad guy execution could not be set up appropriately if I didn’t get it done real soon. See, with our security system, there was no way in hell that guy got up there from the inside. That meant a ladder.

  Then I took small arms fire. They were support for the shooter, surprised, ill advised, and untrained. I went at them from a shooter’s crouch, firing at the flashes. In seconds, I had scored a hit. His weapon clattered to the ground next to him as he screamed out in pain and surrender. I dropped down on a knee, took careful aim, and put two in his head. Surrender, my ass.

  I found the ladder a moment later extended up on Jadie’s building’s backside. No, I didn’t wait for the shooter to descend the ladder. He was going to die, or I was, right now. I didn’t want the police, or the fire department, or the Salvation Army knowing this cocksucker’s last moments… or mine if it came to that.

  It’s a sensation nearly indescribable. You’re holding a firearm in one hand, while ascending a ladder to the top of the building, where a guy who wants you dead could open fire at any moment from the high ground. It’s an inexact science. You either have confidence in your actions or you’re dead. I climbed the ladder at full speed, with my left hand doing the staccato grab and release as I moved upward. My right hand pointed the .45 Colt upwards in the shooter’s direction. I spotted a shadow at the top, and nearly nailed him with a three shot grouping. I didn’t slow down. The hell with it. You either made it or you didn’t – a chess match made in hell. I made it to the top, where I immediately dived to the side with bullets raking uncomfortably close.

  Lo was there for me. Her oval burst caught the sucker a glancing blow. Bad for him and definitely good for us. I rolled to my side, and put two right between his horns. I don’t know what side of the story was going to emerge here, but it wasn’t going to be either the sniper’s or his wingman. Then things got a little fuzzy as the adrenaline rush downgraded into me sitting up, and then falling backward onto the roof surface. I reached then for a few moments of clarity, my arms unfortunately relaxing into an unrepentant girlie pass-out at home plate… shit.

  I felt someone smacking me in the face… okay… I’m down with that. Get… oh… it’s Trish. She’s sobbing and beating on me. I flail around at her, trying to get my beating reduced. She gasps and smothers me with kisses, grunts of anxiety, and tears streaming down from her face to mine.

  “You bastard! I thought for a moment with this much blood you were dead!”

>   “Nope… I’m good… if you don’t beat me to death.”

  “Oh my God!” Trish hugged me so tightly I nearly lost consciousness again.

  “Trish… what’s happened so far? How long have I been out?”

  “I…I followed you, so I’m not really sure. I didn’t have a gun as you made it up the ladder, so all I could do was get here. Yuri’s dead, Rick.”

  Yuri? Oh shit! I propped myself into a sitting position, hands over head. “Good God, Trish… this is bad. I’ve probably killed two Mossad agents. They don’t give a shit about reasons!”

  Trish grabbed me by the ears. “Listen you! I don’t give a crap if you wasted a dozen Mossad if they’re shooting at us! You do understand this was a public statement, right?”

  Damn it! I rip off my undershirt and tie it around my head wound with Trish’s help. “Good one, Trish. We have to cover for the Mossad, because they would not have done this… ever. I’m thinking now. Yuri’s getaway driver was an amateur. You will hear me tell lies over the next few hours. Please don’t add to any comment made.”

  “I guess you and Lo will tell me what the hell this does all mean later. What about when the cops ask what I know?”

  “Simple… break down in tears, and tell them you don’t know how anything like this could be described. It was a nightmare… strike that.” I shook my head. That won’t work. “You’re a known contract killer. Yeah, I’m sure they’ll eat that tears thing up. Best if you stick to one syllable answers.”

  “I can do that. Can you make it down the ladder?”

  “Yeah.” I rolled slowly to my hands and knees. The October breeze was chilling my blood loss condition, but it cleared the cobwebs. I stood up carefully, and walked over to Yuri’s body. I had to see it for myself. He fooled me at Jadie’s. The back of his head was all over the roof behind him. .45 caliber hollow points tend to keep the face intact, but the exit wounds leave little to chance. I knelt down next to him. Yuri stared up at me from eternity. He was a good soldier once. I made sure he didn’t have anything on him for identification and patted his cooling hand. “See ya’ on the other side.”

  I gathered my .45 Colt up, and stuck it back in the back belt holster. “Best let me go down first, Trish.”

  “Why… so you can look up my dress?”

  I chuckled. Good one. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”

  “Should I take off my panties first?”

  I shook my head and climbed carefully over onto the ladder, making sure each step I took had a strong two hand grip backing it up. I raised my arms and closed my eyes as multiple beams blasted into my consciousness. I stepped to the side for Trish and got on my knees with hands laced behind my head.

  “Get the damn lights out of his face you stupid morons,” Lo ordered as she walked up to me with Bill Staley. “Jesus, Rick, I think you’re wearing more blood than you have inside of you.”

  “Stand up, Rick,” Bill said, giving me a boost while Trish joined us. “What will I find on the roof?”

  “Another reason why I won’t have my .45 for a while.” I turned so Bill saw my holstered Colt. He put on a pair of gloves and waved over a cop with an evidence bag. Once again, my deadly partner was on its way to the station.

  “You already had a reason to wave goodbye to the Colt over there by the car,” Bill replied. “How many on the roof?”

  “Just one.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you wait for backup, Rick? Why go up on the roof?”

  “He had a sniper rifle. I don’t read minds. He may have been up there to kill as many as he could.”

  Bill looked at me warily. “That’s not how I saw it. He was most definitely trying to plug you. You drew his fire. You and Lo were the targets. We already have two dead cartel soldiers at a motel from earlier today. Now, a sniper opens up on you in a crowd. What the hell is going on?”

  “You signed us up for the FBI debacle,” Lo reminded him. “Maybe you should do a little Detective work and find out for us. At least touch base with the FBI and let them find out who these two birds are. C’mon, Rick. We’re done here. If the Detective wants to grill someone while you bleed to death, I’ll have Cleaver over here so fast he’ll think he was beamed here. There’s an EMT wagon in front of the restaurant.”

  “Go on,” Bill agreed. “I’ll get the FBI in on this.”

  With Trish and Lo flanking me, I walked over to the EMT’s who had been waiting for the all clear to see if any wounded needed help. They gave me a blanket, and hooked me up to an IV while cleaning my head wound.

  “Can you use those little tape things on it?”

  “We should take you in and have it shaved and stitched, Sir,” the young lady doing the honors said. “You may have a concussion.”

  “No thanks. Please, just the smallest bandage with some antibiotic cream you can manage. Say, can I buy one of those blue gown tops off of you? You know, the kind you transport patients with.”

  The kid’s partner grabbed one out of the wagon and handed it to me. He held out his hand and I shook it. “Jill here and I did time in Iraq. My name’s Manny. We know a brother rat when we meet one. Nice work on the sniper. I guess we won’t be needed across the street, huh?”

  “Not unless you’re a priest or the coroner,” Lo answered for me.

  Jill finished my patch job. Manny unhooked the IV. I gave them back their blanket and put on my new baby blue patient top. “Thanks for the fix. Nice meeting you.”

  “Anytime we can be of service, Mr. Cantelli,” Jill replied.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Bone met us outside the restaurant, which had once again been turned into a police interrogation area. He had my shirt and jacket in hand. “Thanks, Bone. I’m going to wash up, and then I ain’t leaving here until I throw down a few, followed by a steak and lobster dinner as promised.”

  “You bet, Rick! That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Snipe hunts make a man need sustenance, brother. I see they got a taste of you.”

  “Just a taste. Hey Frank. Nice evening, huh?”

  Frank shook my hand. “That was one hell of a frontal attack, Rick. Thanks for the tackle.”

  “Anytime. I’m cleaning up, and then all of us need a table to discuss some things with sippin’ whiskey.”

  “I’ll set that up right now, Rick.” Bone went inside.

  “You do realize it’s not too smart drinking after blood loss and wounds, right?”

  “Don’t bother, Trish,” Lo stated right away. “He won’t listen anyhow. We’ll make sure to get some damn food in him too.”

  “Thanks for that last burst Lo. You creased him before he chewed me up. I didn’t say anything because there’s no use in both of us being unarmed tonight.”

  Lo smiled and pumped a fist. “Damn… I did get him. I haven’t lost my touch.”

  “Not hardly,” I agreed. “Trish nearly beat me to death on the roof. It was hell. I didn’t answer her in a split second and she started pounding on me.”

  Trish gasped, giggled, and then shrugged. “I thought for a moment with all the blood, the Hooterville Trolley went off the rails for the last time.”

  I pulled Lo aside for a second. “It was Yuri on the roof.”

  Not often have I seen Lo recoil from information, but she did this time. “Lord in heaven, Rick, what the hell does that mean?”

  “I’ll have to get back to you on that after cleanup and a couple of Bushmills. I wanted you to give it some thought. Save me a seat.”

  I stopped in the back to trade one liners with my partners, Tim and Sally Collinswood. “Sorry about the excitement once again.”

  “We’re just glad you’re still alive. Casablanca Night will be on every media outlet in the country tomorrow,” Tim replied. “We’ll have to require you eat here every night to cash in on your notoriety.”

  Sally tried to hug me, but I fended her off. “Sorry, Sal, I have blood all over me. I’m going in to clean up.”

  Sally handed me a towel. “Use this, Rick. Are you an
d your friends going to eat here still tonight?”

  “You bet. Eat and drink.”

  “I’ll be sure your server never strays far away from your table,” Sally said, patting my arm. My cellmate, the Donald came up behind her wiping his hands.

  “Damn, old man,” Donald exclaimed, “you took out a sniper and his sidekick, and all you got was that baby blue t-shirt, huh?”

  The kid had game. I shook his hand. “Yes, Mr. Blanco, I see you are still hard at work. Continue please.”

  Donald snickered, nodded, and went back to work.

  “He’s a great kid, Rick,” Sally said.

  “Yeah, well I’m not going back in the tank on any more employee hunts, so you’ll have to make due with him.” I left them laughing. I hoped I was right about the tank.

  When I returned to the table, it was like running the gauntlet. My passing provoked silence. I know I looked better with my shirt and jacket on, after managing a towel bath in one of the sinks. Bill was sitting at the table Bone had secured along with everyone else. Temple shot over to mug me, holding on so tight, I had to gently force her away.

  “I’m okay, kid, and I’m damn glad you made it inside before the shooting started.”

  “I…I watched through the window. I saw you get hit.”

  “Yeah, he tagged me. If it weren’t for Lo, he would have finished the job. She also clipped him on the roof just in time to give me a clear shot. I see you saved me a seat between you and Trish. Let’s sit down, and let me get busy with another kind of shot.”

  “Okay, Pop.”

  I sat down with her and picked up my shot glass already full. “Great to see you all again, except for you, Staley. You can kiss my ass, you sourpuss wanker.”

  I smiled and drank down my shot amid laughter. Our favorite waitress Katy came over with a double, already filled. Her hand was only shaking a little as she set it down in front of me. “Jerry said you’d be needing this, Rick.”

  I looked at the bar, where Jerry gave me a wave. I pointed at him. “I love you, man!”