More Muffia (The Muffia Book 2) (27 page)

I rolled down the window of the Rav4 to let in some air.

“But this time, you’re serious,” he said. “That’s the difference. This time, you’re a woman who knows her mind. And from what I’ve seen, you seem more than capable of keeping him at a safe distance.”

“Thanks for the vote of support.” Maybe he doesn’t think I’m just a silly, pole-dancing, glorified babysitter.

“Besides, I’m here now.” He smiled, one side of his mouth tilting up a little higher than the other.

“Frank’s here so nothing can happen?”
He was so hard to read.

Was he saying he was my very own knight in shiny sunglasses?

“Which means, you don’t need to worry about him hurting you,” said Frank. “He won’t get the chance.”

I gazed out through the windshield again feeling vulnerable and safe at the same time. Frank wasn’t saying Steven didn’t want me, nor that he wouldn’t try to get me back; he had faith I’d be able to resist him if that happened. He had faith in me. And that meant he cared more for me than he let on—certainly more than he was required to. His job description was only to find out who was sabotaging me, not protect me from horny, insistent ex-lovers.

“That’s good to know,” I said, playing it cool; I tried to be hopeful but unassuming.

Frank made another survey of the parking lot. It must be habit because seriously, who was he worried might show up?

I suddenly remembered the Moldovan Mob and realized I hadn’t told him about my tête à tête with Titania.

“I almost forgot,” I said. “I talked to Titania about the pictures.”

“Hold that thought.”

“Hold that thought?”

“You’ll see why in a second.”

I didn’t argue.

He faced me in the seat. “I want you to arrange a meeting between you and Steven.”

This was a bad idea. “I don’t know—if he’s sitting in a car outside my building, he might be cracking up or something. You said he seemed agitated.”

“I’ll follow you home tonight,” he said reassuringly, “just in case he’s still there. It will be perfectly safe.”

I felt the last of dance class slipping away and the tension returning to my neck and jaw. How does one get oneself into these situations? Yes, to live fully requires a certain degree of risk-taking, but I think that the people who say that mean we should all ‘go sky diving’ or ‘try eating frog’s legs,’ not ‘have an adulterous relationship with a guy who’s going insane.’ ”

“I don’t see the point,” I protested.

“After completing the investigation into Ms. Cibulkova, I have determined that though she is lying about her sexuality, there appears to be no connection between her and the pictures sent to Ms. Harris. My suspicion is that your situation at work involves Steven in some way.”

“Steven sent those pictures?”
That seemed ridiculous.
On the other hand, it was true that Titania had seemed honestly stunned by my accusation that it was she who sent them, claiming not to know anything about it.

“You were going to say something about Ms. Cibulkova?” he asked.

“Yes, I was going to but
—
” This new suspicion of Frank’s had me reeling. “Okay, let’s say you’re right and Titania wasn’t the one who sent the pictures. That doesn’t mean Steven would feel so jilted, he’d send them hoping I’d get fired. Besides, the pictures were sent before our last… ”
Ugh—had to be honest.
“Before we got together for the last time.”

Reaching for my bag, I pulled out my phone, which must have vibrated four times since I’d last checked it because there were four texts from Steven—all various permutations of: “I need to talk to you as soon as possible.” The texts filled the screen.

“Well, something’s up.” I showed Frank the screen. “Think I should I call him back?”

Frank nodded. “Yes.”

“What am I going to say?”

He checked the mirrors and scanned again. He must be on some sort of internal timer. I was beginning to find it very comforting.

“Tell him you got his messages, and ask him what he wants to talk about. If he says he needs to meet, tell him you’re on your way home.”

Preparing to make the call, I first scrolled down through Steven’s texts to those below his.
Sheesh
, you look away for a few minutes, and suddenly there are more texts and emails than you can deal with. I inhaled sharply. There was a one from Kiki:

Calling all Muffs! The neighbors are shooting! Get here asap.

“I’ll call Steven, but we or I have to stop somewhere first.”

“Not advisable,” Frank said.

“I have to. I promised. But it won’t take long.”

Frank shook his head. “Tomorrow
is
the day you have to explain the photographs to your boss, isn’t it? That doesn’t leave much time.”

He was right, but Muffs didn’t let Muffs down, and I thought there was a way to do both.

“I told a friend I’d help her with something, and we didn’t know when it was going to happen. Turns out it’s now. She needs me—us if you care to come along.” I pivoted the face of the phone toward him so he could read Kiki’s text. “You’d probably enjoy it.” I smiled.

“Is this one of the women from the shooting range?”

“No, but they’ll be there, too.”

“Then they can take care of it.”

“It’s not going to be a shoot out!”

He sighed. “I only meant your friends seem quite competent.”

That they were.
And Kiki would understand if I didn’t show, but I’d given my word. “Look, it’s on the way. Really—half an hour.” I held up my phone. “I’ll call Steven and arrange for a meeting after.”

“Okay, let’s go,” he said, opening the door to the Rav4.

“Having you there will give us legitimacy,” I said, connecting my headset. “We’re going to bust an illegal porn ring shooting a movie.”

His eyebrows shot up. Apparently ‘porn’ and ‘ring’ were the magic words. “Well, then…I’ll follow you.”

My index finger was poised to call Steven as I watched Frank get into his nondescript dark blue sedan. I didn’t want a confrontation with Steven, and I might have avoided what was now going down had I just listened to Maddie. She’d suggested Steven might be involved that day at Babalu—an idea I’d obviously dismissed. I just couldn’t get past the idea that Steven would go to all that trouble to get me fired. Well, we were going to find out. Putting my car in gear, the phone was ringing as I drove out of the lot with Frank on my tail.

Though Kiki had prayed and asked the Lord to shut down the unholy house next door, the prayers hadn’t worked. But she was not the type to wait for divine intervention. Determining the Lord helped those who helped themselves, she decided to take matters into her own hands.

For three days, she watched as the neighbors loaded in equipment and put up light poles in the backyard in preparation for filming. She’d also seen several large-breasted women going in and out of the house. For three nights in a row, she had the Muffs on standby—ready to go over there and do whatever we could in the way of moral support, physical presence, and evidence gathering. Now, according to Kiki, the shoot was about to begin, and tonight we were going to shut them down.

When I pulled up with Frank right behind me, it was clear that things were already happening. There was no place to park, for one thing, and if you didn’t look closely, you might just think someone was having a party. But the windows on the first floor were blacked out, and the second floor was lit up throughout. We got out of our cars and headed toward Kiki’s. As we walked to the door, I filled Frank in on as much as I knew.

Kiki had been expecting
me
, not me and some guy she didn’t know. But at this point, she’d take all the help she could get, and Frank certainly looked official, which I knew would be a plus. We knocked on the front door and were let in by Rachel, who was drinking a Pellegrino and dressed like Jenna Jamison.

“Whoa, Rachel,” I said. “Talk about a career opportunity. You are sizzling.”

“Just playin’ my part, babe,” she said. “You know me—it’s all in the packaging.”

I introduced Frank, who was nonplussed by the hot babe, and the three of us made our way to where Vicki was busy getting her video gear ready. Kiki emerged from within, also dressed provocatively in a low-cut black bodysuit, wearing too much make up, and a “big hair” wig on her head. Saul appeared with a cheese and veggie platter and said he’d dropped Troy off at a friend’s house for the duration. There were more introductions. Maddie arrived, followed by Jelicka—both of them dressed for the occasion in matching animal print outfits designed to show off their shapes.

Each of the Muffs gave Frank an appraising stare. I knew they were trying to reconcile what he looked like with the fact that he wasn’t my type. I was able to pull Maddie aside and explain that he was the private investigator I’d told them about and
that’s all
. I worried that one of the Muffs might recognize him from Shooter’s Paradise—particularly Maddie, since I’d pointed out his disappearing form as he walked out of the shooting range. But no one said anything, so consumed were all of us with the mission at hand:
Shut down the porn palace
.

Frank leaned in and said to me, sotto voce, “We can’t spend a lot of time here if we’re going to take care of the Steven problem.”

“He said he’d be at my place in an hour. That should be plenty of time to do what we need to do here,” I told him.

From Kiki’s yard, we could see a number of light stands with 10K’s mounted and shining into what must have been a second floor bedroom. In the eerie spill of illumination, the cement giraffe looked like a long-necked peeping Tom.

“So catch me up, here,” said Frank, addressing Kiki. “You’re doing this because the city hasn’t been responsive?”

“I’ve called the city fifty times...”

“Useless,” Jelicka interjected.

“They finally came out but said they found no proof of a business,” Saul said with disgust.

“It was like,
come on
,” said Kiki. “There are 45 cars parked up and down the street every day belonging to the employees, and the lame-o supervisor tells us ‘the owner was having some friends over.’ ”

“Waste of space,” said Jelicka.

“Exactly. Our tax dollars hard at work,” Kiki agreed.

“But now that they’re actually shooting over there without a permit and us getting proof, we should be able to nail ’em,” said Maddie.

“What do we do if they’re just kinky perverts shooting themselves?” Rachel bit down hard on a carrot. 

“The worst that could happen is it’ll be embarrassing for everyone,” said Saul. “But I think we can all see they’re not just living in that house. They’re doing something they shouldn’t be.”

“It’s the zoning,” clarified Maddie unnecessarily.

“They could even be involved in sex trafficking,” Rachel said, riled up. “I can’t wait to get the Scumbags—”

“The key is catching them in the act—cameras out and naked bodies with the cameras rolling. We get that kind of proof, we’re good. And us saying on camera the location and all that.”

“Camera’s ready,” said Vicki. “All the footage will be time stamped, and there’s even a GPS feature to stamp the longitude and latitude where the footage was shot.”

“The plan,” said Kiki, “is for Rachel to get inside first. Whoever’s on the door is probably not a key player on their team. He’ll think she’s part of the shoot and let her in.”

“Do you have a ‘B’ Plan?” Frank asked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get in,” said Rachel with enough confidence he didn’t ask anything more. “I’ll open that door—there—along the side of the house.” She pointed to a spot on the other side of the eight-foot cement wall, “and let you all in.”

“Vicki’s the main shooter, but if you get to the room first, everybody start shooting using your phones or whatever,” instructed Kiki.

“We ready?” I said, trying to move it along.

Jelicka and Maddie both gave the thumbs up sign.

“All in,” said Rachel defiantly. “Smash the subjugators.”

Saul looked at his watch. “Police response times in this neighborhood are on average eight minutes.” He pulled out his phone and dialed.

Kiki said, “Let’s go,” and we were off.

Frank threw me a look and addressed everyone. “Are you concerned that these people might be armed?”

The Muffs stopped, quickly assessing this possibility, but determined we would appear to be “non-threatening” females worthy of being in a porn film and thus dismissed the idea as so much unnecessary worry.

“On the other hand,
he
could throw things off.” Jelicka gestured toward Frank. “No offense. But this was supposed to be the bumbling bimbo posse, not the kind of thing that makes a man draw a weapon. But if he’s with us that could cause problems.”

“I’ll stay out of sight. Consider me back up.”

“Me too,” said Saul, seemingly on hold with 9-1-1.

If what I’d previously observed about Frank was any indication, and had this been his case, he would have shut them down already. So I gave him a lot of credit for letting us do our thing. Saul, on the other hand, was a mild-mannered tax attorney, hardly the take-no-prisoners type. He seemed quite content and proud to let Kiki take charge as he began explaining to the 9-1-1 operator what was happening.

“Can I talk to you?—later of course,” Jelicka said to Frank as the group headed toward Kiki’s front door. “I’m curious what it’s like being a P.I. Quinn was supposed to ask you, so I hope this isn’t coming out of nowhere.”

“Be happy to,” said Frank. “Maybe next week.”

Rachel hesitated before opening the door to put on enough lip gloss that we could see ourselves reflected in her lips. Suitably reflective, she left the house with a purse over her shoulder. Saul followed close behind, still on the phone, with the family Labrador retriever, Otis, on a leash. He would be within sight of the neighbors’ front door when Rachel rang the bell. The rest of us waited, counting off the time.

Two minutes later, Saul’s text hit Kiki’s phone and she read it out: “She’s in. Police on the way.”

Maddie, Jelicka, Kiki, and I went to the side door of the neighbors’ house, while Frank positioned himself near the back door. As soon as the neighbors realized what was happening, they’d try to flee, and Frank would be there to hold them until the cops came. Meanwhile, Saul, with dog and camera, staked out the front and would direct the police as soon as they arrived.