“Here’s my question. Are you guys doing this for just Culver and Brittany, or are the other owners in on this operation?”
He’s stunned I know the players already. He shrugs. “It’s Culver who paid us to switch out the boards.”
“Okay, now how the hell do you get these things to act up without the maintenance guys knowing they’ve been altered?”
“We use a shunt on the circuit board. It melts off when the machine goes nuts.”
The sirens begin wailing in the distance.
“My advice is rat out Carver and the plot to the PD. I have you guys on digital, breaking in here and screwing with the machines. Let Carver take the fall for the attempted murder they’re bound to charge.”
“Attempted murder!” Bright boy obviously didn’t think this through.
“Yeah, kid.” I kept an eye on his partner groping himself into a sitting position. He used his shirt to wipe his face with. “Someone could have been killed when the machine went bonkers. You guys sabotaging the machines is a premeditated act.”
“Oh shit… I am so screwed.”
“Like I said, tell the PD all about Carver when you get your lawyer there. Do it quick. You can bet Brittany will give him up. It’s best to beat her to the deal.”
I help him sit on one of the benches and plastic tie him to the weight machine. “Stay still while I help your partner get rinsed off.”
He nods and I go over to the bad boy. “Get on your feet, and walk with me to the showers. Do something stupid and I’ll light you up with this.” I fire off an arc with my stunner nightstick. “Understand?”
“Yeah.”
I get him in the shower and have him wash off his upper clothing and face real good. Then I give him a towel. I don’t want any crap from the PD. He starts feeling better and decides to get some. Water is such a great conductor. When he stops jiggling around like a headless chicken, I flip him over and plastic tie him. He’s able to then stand and return to the scene of the crime by the time the cops get there.
My main man, Detective Staley calls out to me. “Rick! You decent?”
“Yeah, Bill. Come on in. I have the boys ready for plucking. I hope Lo didn’t wake you up for this.”
Staley comes inside with four other officers. “I had graveyard this week. Lo told me this is a biggie – altering machines to hurt people and kill the business.”
“Yep. I have it all on digital HD. I’ll send the package to your e-mail address. They alter the printed circuit board with some kind of shunt.” I point at the short, nervous guy. “Get him to take you through it. He wants to make a deal. I had the other one rinse the Mace off. He wanted to get romantic.”
“Lo’s having the owner come over. She should be here shortly. Lois is outside to give you a ride. Can you send me the attachment before you sleep?”
“I’ll do it right now while I’m getting my notebook. Thanks. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to go down to the station. Want me to come in tomorrow morning?”
Bill nodded. “I know you write this operation up for the bill, so bring one signed to the station when you can. I’m glad you didn’t shoot anybody. I guess Lo told you I warned her if you killed anyone else it better be a suicide.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, that was a good one. I’ll get my gear.”
Shorty’s curious as Bill helps him to his feet. “You’ve killed guys?”
“Oh yeah,” Bill tells him. “Rick here holds the P.I. record for dead bodies in a couple months at three. I’m glad he didn’t have to make it five.”
“Yeah,” Shorty says, looking at his stunned partner. “Me too.”
* * *
I hurry to Lois’s car. I didn’t want to cross paths with the girl of my dreams again in my weakened emotional state. I put my notebook computer in the back and jump in the front, fastening my seatbelt before I’m even settled in. “Let’s hit the road, Lo. Jadie girl will be arriving shortly, and I’m not babysitting this morning.”
Lois cackles away at that one. We hit the road before she speaks. “That was one nice piece of work, Rick. If you promise not to roll around with my DNA carrier, I’ll let you have Shelly at the beach house for a few days.”
“I’ll take the beach house deal. You keep Shelly.”
“You better not be thinking about hooking up with that old school chippie of yours. I don’t want that slut anywhere near our beach house.”
“Strictly beach house solitary, Lo. You have my word.” I’m immediately thinking of nailing both my girls before I go to the beach house after that hot Jadie dream.
“That means before the beach house too, Spanky.”
Mind melding witch. “Damn it, Lo!”
Chapter 6: The Garibaldi Mob
“Those workouts are pissing me off,” Lois announces, keeping her Viking night-vision binoculars trained on the apartment complex entrance. “Almost as much as you banging my hooker sister by another mother.”
Oh boy. Our first time back partnering on a stake-out, and Lo decides to hit a double into the left field corner for extra bases. I shifted slightly, repositioning my Kevlar vest. “First off, how’s your back?”
“Better,” Lois mumbled.
“Then the workouts may be pissing you off, but they’re keeping you from late night agony. Besides, they’re only three days a week for forty-five minutes. That’s a cheap price to pay for an alternative to back surgery.”
“You only say that because you have our temptress aerobics instructor throwing herself at you at every class, while causing steam to blow out the ears of our poor employee, Shelly.”
Why fight it. It’s the truth. I’m beginning to look forward to the workouts just for those reasons. I lean back with a sigh. “Yeah… ain’t life grand?”
Lo snorts appreciatively. “Your deck’s missing a few cards, Cantelli. I like Jadie. It’s too bad you’re not a cradle robber.”
Now that was funny. Jadie Wentworth, the afore mentioned aerobics temptress we’d helped out of a rather tricky bit of fitness center competition sabotage, was nearly three decades my junior. Flirting with her to make Shelly mental was one thing. Acting on the impulse was another. When I finished chortling over the cradle robber comment, I responded with a comment to make Lo mental. “Jadie needs to get over her grandfather complex and date around in her own species. Besides, she can’t hold a candle to Stacy.”
Down come the binoculars, accompanied by a deep throated growl of menace. Only one thing trumps the violent tendencies that my coupling with her starlet sister Karen cause to surface in Lois – the reminder I’m still seeing my old classmate Stacy. “Honest to God, Rick! You know damn well one of these nights she’s going to sneak in a couple of her druggie friends to beat you to death in your sleep, you idiot!”
I grinned over at Lo. Actually, she’d tried exactly that a month ago. Granted, I was a Navy Seal over three decades past, but one thing I haven’t forgotten - how to sleep light with the enemy. As Stacy snuck back to the bedroom leading her goon squad, I lit them all up inside the doorway with my 6 million volt stunner nightstick. Man, I zapped those three until smoke came out of their ears. I knew Stacy had been torqued at me for not loaning her ten thousand for a new car, but it did surprise me a bit she’d decide to tune me up in my sleep. I took everything they had on them, made Stacy get dressed, and tossed them all to the curb. Stacy came back last week, begging forgiveness. We had a nice visit, and then I sent her on her way. No more sleepovers. What can I say? First loves evoke strange feelings. It figures my mind melding partner, Spock-ella, would figure out exactly what Stacy would do.
Lo suddenly barked out a laugh, going back to watching the building. “Oh my… you poor dolt… that two bit crack-whore already tried to smoke you. Since you’re sitting here next to me I’d wager you made a statement.”
Damn it! I was silent too long, and Spock-ella the mind munch, threaded her tendrils into my head. I shrugged. “I made them all do the dance of the thousand tingles until they were well done a
nd ready to serve.”
Lo gave me a head bobbing, twenty second, annoying cackle of triumph. “You lit up the crack-whore too… oh that’s just delicious. Cross her off the list.”
When I remained silent, my ship ported in the night.
Down dropped the binoculars once more. “You slept with her again! That’s it, Cantelli! Get out of the car! I can’t stand the sight of you right now. Take a hike down the street or something if you’re not too brain dead to walk!”
Luckily, I saw our bond jumper finally approaching the apartment complex before Lo decided to stun-gun me on my ordered walk. Clarisse Tunney, a nearly six foot tall hooker, who had been bonded out of jail for aggravated assault in LA, decided to skip bond and establish her working girl routine here. The bonding agency got tipped and called us for retrieval. We have some informants in the community ourselves, so it didn’t take us long to locate Clarisse. She started working a local girl’s territory, and word got out. Clarisse had a business suited John with her. Seeing my renewed interest across the street, Lo sighted in, and then was out of the car in a flash. Lois is all business when it’s time to cash in.
“I’ve got the Taser, Rick. Watch the clown with her.”
“On it.” Clarisse is in stiletto heels so she won’t be running anywhere. We just needed a quick reasoning discussion of reality with our bond jumper hopefully. We wear vests because once in a while our simple bond retrievals dip into danger.
We’re across the street in seconds with Lo blocking off the way into the apartment building, Taser in hand. Mr. Business doesn’t run. That’s a bad sign. He should be thinking we’re cops, and try to turn back the way they’d come. He didn’t. Clarisse gets a resigned look on her face, seeing Lois. When Lo faces off with you wearing her scary face, most folks on our target list suffer a little angst about their next move.
“Hi Clarisse,” Lo greets her. “We’re here representing Donaldson and Truman Bail Bonds. I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us. If you’re nice, we’ll help you pack your personals for travel. Please say goodnight to your friend, and turn around with your hands clasped behind your back.”
“Why don’t you two run along and play cowboys and Indians somewhere else,” the suit tells us.
I’m watching hands. I’ll let Lo negotiate. She’s the people person of our partnership.
Lo gestures at the suit. “This is legitimate business, Sir. We’re not Dawg The Bounty Hunter wannabes. Clarisse understands why we’re here. I’m sorry your social contract can’t get fulfilled tonight, but it’s best if you be on your way.”
I’m getting a bad feeling about this guy. His features start twisting into a Mr. Hyde impersonation even though Clarisse is already turning around as Lois asked. I don’t want to have to shoot this guy, but I’ve got problems here. This guy could be a lawyer. If I Mace him, we could finish with all the money on this case going to lawyers and bad publicity. The suit has the look I sometimes get confused about for good reason. He could be a mobster or a lawyer. They’re interchangeable to me. Lois notices.
“I think you two better leave now while you can,” the suit snarls. Yeah, that will get Lois to back off.
Lois cackles a little while watching the guy and restraining Clarisse. “Don’t be an idiot. Clarisse is playing this smart and silent. She’s in our custody safely secured. Guess what, Capone? That leaves me with an unused Taser. Want a little warm-up?”
“Do you know who I am?” Suit is incredulous. Being caught with a hooker and her getting taken into custody doesn’t even register on this guy’s impressions list.
“We not only don’t know, Spanky, we don’t care,” Lois replies, patting Clarisse’s shoulder. “Take me in, girlfriend and I’ll get you packed. You Sir, whoever the hell you are, walk away or I light you up like springtime in Paris.”
“Don’t turn around, Lo.” My voice startles Lois. She immediately stops guiding Clarisse toward the building. “Go ahead, Sir. Tell us who you are. Do it without moving your hands any higher than your waist.”
“He’s Neil Garibaldi,” Clarisse said. “Cheech Garibaldi’s consigliore. He’s on a business trip, and phoned ahead for an appointment.”
Neil smirks. I’m getting romantic thoughts about this guy. He sizes me up. He’s not impressed. “I’ll put my hands anywhere I want, punk.”
Lois grins. She already has her finger on the Taser trigger with it pointed right at his nuts. “Don’t kill him, Rick. Staley will fry both our asses. Ever see one of those puppets in the street fairs… you know with the strings attached… bouncing around? That’s going to be you in a split second, Neil. Don’t know if you’ve ever been Tased in the nuts before, but I’ve done it on occasion to wise-guy, arrogant assholes like you. Then I slowly turn up the heat on the needles. It’s a show not to be missed. Right, Rick?”
Yep. No guy forgets seeing that. Lois is like the missing link of pain when she makes a decision someone needs an adjustment. “Don Placid. Two years ago. He’s still walking around like he’s been riding a horse for thirty years. Whenever Don and my partner cross paths, he gets on the ground in a fetal position until she walks by.”
“You Tase me and I’ll own your asses!” I notice Neil doesn’t raise an arm, but clenches his fists at his sides.
“I hope that’s a comfort to you when they nickname you Black Balls,” I tell him. “What the hell is your problem anyway? If you’re so important, why don’t you make a few more calls and get another date? What’s with this Tony Soprano act?”
“I know you, chump. You’re the big-timer gumshoe dates movie stars and shoots poor defenseless saps! I’ve seen your mug on the entertainment pages. A schmuck like you should know a real player so you know when to back the hell out of what ain’t your business.”
I start laughing. I can’t help it. I was wrong about this guy. He is entertaining. Lois didn’t like his tone even a little bit. She wants to give him a high charged Vasectomy. Neil looks like he’s going to crack his teeth into pieces if he clenches his jaw any harder, but Lois and I both notice he ain’t dumb enough to raise a hand.
I take a deep breath. “Run along, Mr. Garibaldi. You’re not changing anything. No use sticking around and getting more upset. Just make sure to keep your hands at your sides as you walk so I don’t have to shoot anymore defenseless saps.”
Garibaldi is at the end of his line. The look of comprehension heralds a hard to accept decision. He turns and walks away, hands at his sides. Clarisse breathes a sigh of relief.
“I’m glad you two found me tonight. He likes it rough. I couldn’t work for two weeks after he came out to the coast last year. His brother sent me a big check, but Neil gets scary if he can’t get it up without taking a pill. Thanks for letting me pack my things.”
Lois and I are both watching Garibaldi walk away with professional caution while listening to Clarisse. Lois turns toward her finally. “Let me pat you down and I’ll undo your hands.”
Clarisse nods in agreement. Lois gives her a professional pat down, not like you see on the cop shows. If Clarisse had anything on her person other than clothing, Lois would be holding it. She releases Clarisse’s hands. It doesn’t take Clarisse long to pack her things under Lois’s watchful eye. Our ‘Happy Hooker’ is probably still in her late twenties. She looks to be a natural blonde with a lot going for her in the looks department – a natural attractiveness without silicone. She doesn’t look like the type for this profession, but I gave up walking around in other people’s shoes decades ago. That way, I don’t get blisters.
We’re heading to the exit with Clarisse’s bags. Lois secures Clarisse’s hands in front for the ride to LA. We were contracted to deliver her because they took too much time hiring to get her back. She’s due in court on Monday, and this was Saturday night. We most times retrieve and let Steve deliver, but Lois wanted to test out her rehab. Like I’ve mentioned before, Lois and I have been in tight situations many times before, so we all halt at the entrance while I get the car from across
the street. I no sooner open the door than a bullet whizzes by my head and smacks into the doorjamb. I saw the flash. Clarisse screams while we duck down out of sight. I grin over at Lois.
“It looks like we pissed off Tony Soprano.”
Lois shakes her head in regret. “I knew I should have cooked him.”
“You know better, Lo. Mr. Mob-guy would have taken us to court in a no win situation.”
“Neil will kill us,” Clarisse sobs out. “Can’t we call the cops?”
“Calm down, honey,” Lois says soothingly. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you. Did you see where it came from, Rick?”
“Across the street. The prick’s using my car for cover.”
“Shoot him.”
“You wouldn’t say that if we’d taken your car, Lo. Call the PD, and we’ll wait out Mr. Soprano.”
Lois chuckles over my car remark as she calls the PD.
Clarisse is aghast at our attitude. “You… you two think this is funny?”
“Not in the way you think of as funny,” Lois answered. “I was trying to get Rick to man up about his stupid car and go out and shoot that loony.”
“Ha… ha… calm down Clarisse. The PD will be here soon to collect the Godfather.” The two gunshots that hit the door made a liar out of me. “Or not. This guy is really nuts, Lo. All he had to do is walk away. I think this is a first for us.”
I open the door a crack. “The PD is on its way, you moron! I wish I had your brother’s number so I could call him up and tell him how stupid you are.”
“You’re dead, Cantelli! Come out and face me you pussy!”
Lois cackles inappropriately. “He may be ripe on the vine before the PD get here, Rick. Go pick him before he spoils.”
Clarisse is horrified. “Neil’s a killer! If your partner goes out there he’ll die! Honest to God, you two are nuts, and… and… you both look a little past it.”
Lois and I are both laughing at that one. She’s right, but not in the way she thinks. We’re just a little past caring.
Rick Cantelli, P.I. (Rick Cantelli, P.I. Detectives Book 1) Page 7
