Sotello: Detective, ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Sotello

  by

  Bernard Lee DeLeo

  *****

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Bernard Lee DeLeo and RJ Parker Publishing, Inc

  ISBN-13: 978-1500108380

  ISBN-10: 1500108383

  Sotello

  Copyright © 2014 by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  *****

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. Please respect the author’s work. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real life persons, events, or places is purely coincidental.

  *****

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.

  Chapter 1

  Lynn

  The woman walked up the courthouse steps, careful of the wetness from the preceding day’s rain. She carried a large briefcase. Her dress, although fashionably short at mid-thigh, gave an appearance of the professional. As a lawyer, in private practice for ten years, the courthouse held no secrets for her, but she glanced around uneasily, as if searching for an unseen enemy. Her dark brown hair, tied back tightly, covered her upper dress collar. At five foot seven inches tall she appeared anything but frail. Her form drew admiring glances in any venue.

  Inside the courthouse, she spotted a man in a well-tailored gray business suit, near the metal detector gate entrance, talking amiably with a woman police officer. The policewoman’s partner stood back a step, listening amusedly to the conversation. They both started laughing loudly, as if the man had delivered an effective punch line. He looked at her as she released the door, and let it swing back into place. She first noticed how tall he stood. She guessed he had to be at least six feet five inches tall, maybe taller. His suit could not hide the bulging shoulder and arm muscles, but his stance seemed to lend a nondescript overall appearance, until one saw his face. Some scar tissue around his eyes, which were dark gray, and a surgically altered nose, could almost be overlooked, because of the scar running from the top of his left eyebrow down over his cheekbone to the side of his mouth. His gray, close-cropped hair offset his lined, lightly tanned face. She thought if Hollywood wanted an actor to appear like a violent, dangerous gangster, they could use a picture of this man as a model.

  He walked towards her smiling, which did wonders for his countenance. She still involuntarily took a step back, causing him to stop a few feet away from her; as if he realized what his appearance did to strangers. He spoke then, and his voice caused her some shock. Although deep, with a very slight rasp, he spoke in a well-modulated tone, with the aspect of a Harvard lawyer.

  “Excuse me, are you Deborah Gillingham?” he asked politely. “I’m James Sotello. We have an appointment for six o’clock. Because of the ongoing terrorist precautions, and the tone of your call, I thought this would be a good place to meet.”

  She held out her hand and returned his smile. He carefully grasped her hand, which disappeared into one scarred paw. Sotello’s hand looked more like a catcher’s mitt than a hand. Sotello shook hands with her gently, as if any loss of control would leave her appendage mangled.

  “Hi Mr. Sotello, I’m sorry I asked to meet you here so early. A friend of mine recommended your service to me. Do you recall a man named Jonathon Walters?”

  “Yes, but I am a bit confused as to why we couldn’t meet in my office, and why you waited until now to mention Mr. Walters. I do know him very well. He works out of homicide here in Oakland. I forget the precinct.”

  “Your office lies in what I call the demilitarized zone of Oakland. When you hear my problem, you’ll understand the concern I had about coming to your office.”

  Sotello grinned at her reference to the neighborhood where he worked. “I admit to there being a rather rough element near my office location, but a goodly number of hardworking people with families live around there too. Besides, I own the little building I work out of. It keeps my overhead low. Thanks to the Middle East situation, my office would probably be a safer place to meet than this courthouse. I know you have an office up in Piedmont, where you have been in practice for almost ten years. You own a 1999 Mercedes, and own your own home not more than a mile from your office. You’re single, and have very few friends, other than acquaintances through your law practice. I sensed some urgency in your voice when I spoke with you. I’m intrigued as to how I can help you.”

  Deborah tried to cover up her initial reaction to this man knowing so much about her, but then realized it would be extremely easy for him to acquire it in his line of work. “I think you assume too much as far as my circle of friends.”

  “That was a stretch, but I make a living assuming facts about people,” he replied easily.

  “Would you let me buy you breakfast? I can fill you in on my problem, and I know a little café within walking distance of the courthouse.”

  “I would take a cup of coffee, thank you.”

  The woman led the way, with Sotello taking up a position slightly behind her, and to the right. Street sound at this time, because of the sparse traffic, had not reached its usual decibel range. Gillingham picked this hour of the morning, because she would have ample warning of anyone approaching her. Although she knew Sotello walked right beside her, she could hear nothing but the sound of her own high heels clicking on the sidewalk. Glancing over at him, she marveled at how easily he moved for his size.

  Sotello scanned their surroundings, but sensed her gaze. “You seem very uncomfortable Ms. Gillingham. Does your discomfort have anything to do with why you wished to see me?”

  “Detective Walters said you did bodyguard work.”

  “Along with skip tracing, security consultation, lost people, lost money, and lost property. Very few people in my demilitarized zone, as you call it, need a bodyguard. I usually get bodyguard jobs out of the area, by recommendation only, and not very often.”

  “Detective Walters told me you were with the Secret Service.”

  “Yes, and five years with the FBI.”

 
“You were also in Special Forces, were you not?” Gillingham asked.

  “Long ago, and in a galaxy far, far away,” Sotello replied easily.

  “I know you also have a law degree, and you’ve kept your license current with the California Bar. Why don’t you practice law?”

  “I invested my money wisely,” Sotello explained, “and I wanted to do what I enjoy doing. I don’t like practicing law. People balk at being represented by someone who looks more like a mook from a local crime family than a lawyer. Having a current license allows me to handle some court details I would normally have to pay someone else to attend to. Walters must like you, because he would never have told anyone else all that, or have you been practicing private investigation without a license Ms. Gillingham?”

  She blushed. “I… I just needed to make sure before I met with you…”

  “I don’t mind. It saves some time,” he reassured her. “As I told you, I looked into your background too, after you made the appointment with me. Does one of your clients need a bodyguard?”

  She stopped on the sidewalk and faced him. “I do. A man has been stalking me for the last four months.” She touched his arm. “Come in and have some coffee. I’ll explain it to you.”

  He nodded, and followed her into the café, where the waitress already knew her by sight. She came over to seat them and exchange peasantries with Gillingham. They had only just opened. The only other patron sat sipping coffee at a table near the kitchen area. Gillingham chose a table near the window. The waitress poured their coffee. Deborah watched with amusement as Sotello poured two packets of sugar and some milk into his coffee.

  He looked up as he stirred his coffee and shrugged. “Another myth of the black coffee drinking gumshoe dispelled, huh?”

  “Why did you quit the Secret Service?”

  “Boredom, and there were some politicians I wouldn’t take a bullet for,” Sotello admitted.

  “FBI?”

  “Authority problems,” Sotello noted. “I had a chance to do things on my own and I took it. I started in the private investigation field with an acquaintance, who was close to retiring. I fit in with what he needed. He gave me a great deal on the place when he retired. You were saying something about being stalked.”

  “I handled a legal matter for a man named Ramon Bennet. When it was completed, he tried to get me to date him; but I told him no. He persisted to the point I began to get frightened. He began to show up everywhere I went. If I handled a court case, he would be in the courtroom.”

  “What kind of legal matter did you handle for him?”

  “I defended him on a drug charge.”

  Sotello nodded. “So, you got him off?”

  “Yes, on a technicality. The case was thrown out the first day, which happens to many of those types of cases.”

  “Easy payday?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, “but I…”

  Sotello held up his hand. “I get a few easy ones once in a while too. I imagine you’ve tried the usual legal remedies?”

  “I obtained a court order against him. He cannot come within a hundred yards of me, but he does anyway. The police require proof. He no longer comes in the courtroom with me; but he still follows me, and I know I’ve seen him around my house.”

  “Do you own a gun?”

  “No, but I do have pepper spray,” She told him.

  “Good,” Sotello reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a stun gun. He handed it to her. “Take this too. If he approaches you, use the pepper spray, and then this. Zap him until he quits moving. I’ll show you how to use it, and how to discharge it when we get out of here.”

  “But I thought you could handle this for me,” Gillingham protested. “You said you did bodyguard work.”

  “He won’t approach you while I’m with you,” Sotello replied. “Although I’m sure you make good money as a lawyer, you couldn’t afford me as a twenty four hour a day bodyguard. He doesn’t want to kill you anyway.”

  “How much do you get Mr. Sotello?”

  “Ten thousand a week.”

  Gillingham choked on her sip of coffee. She looked up at him in stunned amazement as he handed her a couple of napkins. “Ten thousand a week? Who are you, Harrison Ford?”

  “He was Indiana Jones. I’m Kevin Costner.”

  “Pretty funny, Sotello, but I don’t want to handle this guy. He scares me.”

  “I didn’t refuse your case,” Sotello replied. “I was trying to give you the details of how we would have to go about it. I will need five thousand dollars up front. You’ll have to handle any approach he makes on your person for the next few weeks, while I do some background work on Mr. Bennet.”

  “I’ll make sure your home security system can do more than go beep beep while he murders you, and I’ll loan you a short barrel twelve gauge pump shotgun. We will go to the range today, and I’ll show you how to use it, and make sure you can load it. I’ll come over to your house after we visit the range, and show you where to retreat, and make your stand. I don’t suppose you own a dog.”

  “I own a golden lab named Tinker.”

  “Outstanding, then I don’t have to worry about him getting into your place unannounced,” Sotello said.

  “I don’t like guns.”

  “I don’t like chocolate ice cream, so what? You pay me five thousand dollars to show you how to keep yourself alive until I can take care of this for you. You’ll probably love shooting, and the world will end up with another gun enthusiast.”

  She sipped her coffee, while she thought over what he said. She sighed as she made her decision. “I agree to your terms, but how will you handle it for me in the end?”

  “One step at a time. I…”

  “Call me Lynn. All my friends call me by my middle name.”

  “Okay Lynn, you may call me Jim. Now, will this be cash, check, or credit card?”

  “You want the whole five thousand up front,” she asked in surprise.

  “I’m afraid so. If by some chance you don’t do as I say, or something else beyond my control happens, and you get yourself killed, then I have to get paid.”

  “You are amazing,” she said, as Sotello had begun to smile at the expression on her face. “You seem more like the Pet Detective.”

  “Look, I know you’re scared. I could tell that as soon as you walked into the courthouse. I’m only trying to give you a way to get this under control, and bolster your confidence. You have to stop thinking like a victim. If he wanted you dead, you would be dead. Now… do we have a deal?”

  “Yes, and I guess today would be as good a day as any to take care of all this,” Lynn agreed. “I don’t have anything scheduled at the office. You haven’t asked me anything about my personal life.”

  “I figured if you’ve been stalked for four months, then you probably have no personal life. Am I right?”

  She began to speak and then she nodded. “Right as rain. I used to have an occasional drink and dinner out with friends a couple times a week; but since all this started, I hardly leave my house. I drive Tinker all the way over to Lake Merritt, when there are a lot of people around, just so I can exercise her. I’m never out after dark, and the few times I have had to be at my office past dark, I’m scared shitless.”

  “Having your own private stalker does that to you. I want to get you back to a point where you can stop being a prisoner until I can handle this for you. You’ve already started taking precautions. Please don’t be offended, but do you have a boyfriend?”

  “Why would I be offended? No, I have not had a relationship other than an occasional date in over two years. Why do you ask?”

  “These clowns get jealous over other people in your life, especially men. They can get violent if they know you have someone. Sometimes they create imaginary scenarios where they are protecting you from outside forces,” Sotello explained. “It sounds as if this guy has become obsessed enough to be watching for anyone else in your life.”

  “I guess I shoul
d not have met with you like this,” she replied. “He could be watching us now.”

  “Maybe,” Sotello allowed, “but I was more concerned with friends you already have. It might be a good idea to continue the way you have been for the last few months, and keep a low profile for the next few weeks until I get this sorted out.”

  “Do you have anyone, Jim?”

  “No, but I’m not attractive enough to have a stalker.”

  Lynn laughed. She liked this man. He already seemed like an old friend. “I’ve not laughed in a long time. You make me feel safe.”

  “Then I’m not doing my job. I will not be with you all the time, Lynn. I want you to continue looking for this guy around every corner.”

  “You could move in with me, and I could save ten thousand a week.”

  This time Sotello laughed long and hard. He patted her hand with his catcher’s mitt. “You’re all right Lynn. Come on, let’s stop by my place, pick up some weapons, and head over to the range.”

  Lynn reached out, and grabbed hold of his hand as he stood up. “Why don’t you have dinner with me tonight? You could meet Tinker, and go over the suggestions you made about the house then.”

  “That sounds good Lynn, but I think we can get this all done before dinner.”

  “Okay, then how about dinner after?” She persisted.

  Sotello sat back down, and took her hand in both of his. “Look Lynn, this guy may not only get violent with who he sees you with, he may get violent with you. I’m flattered, but I’m old enough to be your father.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Fifty.”

  “Well, I’m thirty six, so you would have had to be a pretty young father.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not always the age,” Sotello quipped. “It’s the mileage.”

  “Look, we can keep this professional, and still be friends. I had an ulterior motive besides this Bennett guy. I could use a partner of sorts, someone to handle the roadwork, who knows the law. This could be a lot more profitable than five thousand for you. Have you done any contract work with other law firms?”

  “I have done my share,” Sotello admitted, “especially the skip traces.”

  “It would be like that, only I would cut you in on a bigger piece of the pie. How does that sound?”