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Authors: Scott Rhine

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BOOK: Jezebel's Ladder
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Chapter 16 – The Problem with Claudette

 

When Benny picked her up the next afternoon, it was in a
specially reinforced, black van. Although it didn’t appear armored, the walls
and glass were thicker and heavier than normal. “The tires also run when flat,”
he explained.

There were three guards in the van
in addition to the driver. The only place available for Jez to sit was the
bench seat beside the former star. “You really know how to impress a girl.” She
wore white capris, tennis shoes, a hint of makeup, and a shirt that plunged a
little deeper than her work outfits.

She looked him over as she slid in.
Benny could have been dressed for a normal work day, aside from trading his
polished loafers for comfortable deck shoes. It was a start.

Once the van door closed, he
announced, “Officially, this is a trip to get Jerry Lewis and a certain French
director to have lunch with our good envoy on Monday. If I can arrange this, he’ll
take vacation time for the visit and then give his notice.”

She grabbed his hand and said, “Thank
you! I knew you could do it. How do you know all these people?”

“It’s a secret society of Hollywood medical charities. Jerry always jokes that you have to be Jewish, British, or
have the disease to join. Seriously, Jerry was a mentor for me early in both of
my careers. He’s a very sharp business man, the only actor I know who owns his
own film master prints. Getting the director, however, will require calling in
a favor. That’s where we’re going now.”

Since he was being secretive, she
stuck to her immediate goal. “Is Tom’s boss okay with the short notice?”

“For lunch with those two, his boss
said he would drive him to the airport personally. If Tom resigns, it will be
to ‘spend more time with his family.’”

She furrowed her brow. “He doesn’t
have a family anymore; he spent all his time at work.”

Benny glanced at the hand she was
still holding and said, “It’s code in a government job. It usually means they
are resigning to prevent a scandal.”

“But he’s squeaky clean.”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but it helps
his government save face. Nobody wants someone announcing, ‘I took a job to
afford a retirement house in California.’”

She blinked. “Is everybody I
recruit getting paid more than me? It makes it hard to be their manager.”

He thought for a few moments. “I
see your point, but we need to maintain your cover. Normally, headhunters get a
bonus equal to 10 percent of the employee’s first year’s salary. Does that
sound equitable?”

Caught off guard by the generosity,
she agreed.

Eventually, he took his hand back
to flip through a situation report on his smart  phone. She wasn’t accustomed
to being ignored on a date. Even the Fossils had shown her a better time.

She tried another tactic. “Did Tan
like his souvenir from Paris?”

“The replica of the Lady Diana
memorial with his sister’s name on it? It was very thoughtful.”

“Did you like your gift?” she said,
feeling like she was pulling teeth.

He seemed a little flustered. “Um…
the robe wasn’t my size.”

She nodded. “That’s because it was
for your guest bathroom.”

“Pardon?”

“Tan stole my clothes to wash while
I was in the shower at your place. I had to sneak around like a ninja in one of
those little towels to get them back.”

Frank, the guard facing them,
struggled not to react.

Benny got defensive. “He’s just a
very neat person, not my houseboy.”

She sighed and looked at the
ceiling of the van. “You don’t get many visitors, do you?”

He seemed puzzled by the question. “No,
my home is private. I like to keep it that way.”

Frank couldn't contain himself
anymore and blurted, “Mr. Hollis, she wants to know if you’re seeing anyone,
sir.”

Everyone else in the vehicle could
see the light bulb turn on for Benny. “No. I work two jobs, leaving no time for
a social life. The Project never goes away; it just lurks in corners, waiting
for a chance to overflow. Working with medical professionals can be a real eye-opener.
Did you know that 50 percent of single women my age have incurable herpes? Half
the men carry HPV, which can lead to cancer of the uterus.”

She laughed. “No wonder you never
get any with that attitude.”

Frank turned his head to cough,
covering his mouth. Even the driver of the van bit his lower lip. Benny said, “With
my money and fame, I don’t know who to trust. Worse, if I do like someone, I
don’t want to accidentally manipulate her against her will.”

She appreciated the flash of
honesty and didn’t tease him further. “Speaking of medical professionals, what
did they find when the lab analyzed the poison pill I brought back?”

He squeezed the bridge of his nose
between his thumb and forefinger in an attempt at acupressure. “The Fossils
have a pharmaceutical company with a lot of experimental drugs. One of them is
an anti-drinking medication. You’ve heard of them?”

“Yes. They cause nausea and
vomiting when you cheat,” she said.

“This one had some flaws. Five
people in the group had heart attacks, and they pulled it from the market. The
physician that ran the study can’t work in the state of Nebraska any more. Your
pill contained ten times the recommended dosage.”

“Wow. Just say no. Wouldn’t that
have been too suspicious?”

“Not really. The Nebraska doctor
was your physician of record.”

She pointed to the bandage on her
arm. “Dr. Poldark, from Ward Seven?”

He nodded. “Don’t worry; he’s
perfectly competent. Dirt Bag just needed someone with a history who would be
willing to commit people with less-than-complete paperwork.”

“I’m never going back there again.
He could be the one leaking information to the enemy.”

“Unlikely, but I’ll check into it,”
he said, poking his phone screen.

She wanted to smack the device out
of his hand. “What are you doing on that thing that can’t wait twenty minutes?”

He shut off the phone, recognizing
the tone from his parents’ many fights. “Dirt Bag thinks that because he doesn’t
sleep much, the rest of us shouldn’t need to either. He’s scheduled two major
missions next week and has me doing both the same night. Fortunately, Dallas and Arkansas are close.”

In a gentler tone she said, “I know
about the meeting with Whirlwind. Couldn’t I take that one? I’m normally good
at convincing men.”

Benny shook his head. “That guy is
a paranoid sociopath with the strength of an ox. He’d snap you like a twig. No.
We couldn’t risk you.”

“What about the other operation?”

“The Daughters of the American
Revolution Annual Cotillion. I’m still looking for a dance partner.”

Examining her nails, she said, “Oh,
pity you don't know any professional dancers who are willing to pretend to go
on a date with you.”

Benny opened his mouth a couple
times to answer but stopped himself. Eventually, he decided on, “We can’t go
out into the field together. It risks too many assets. We can’t even fly on the
same plane; it violates Project rules. If Crusader found out about
this
excursion, he’d have a fit.”

“Maybe I could go instead of you.
What’s the mission?”

He considered this. “There’s a
problem with Claudette. It’s sensitive.” She stared at him, saying nothing
until he cracked. “All right! You know we got in a fight with the Fossils over
ownership of a Brazilian aerospace company with US government contracts. I
think initially they wanted the satellites for mineral mapping. Then it got
personal. That’s when our former head of security, Maverick, seduced DB’s
ex-wife. He works for the Fossils now.”

“Seduced?” she said, using the
one-word-continue technique.

Benny squirmed in his seat and
whispered, “He used his body control to overcome her.”

“How?” she whispered back.

When Benny avoided the question,
Frank said, “Inhuman stamina, ma’am. That combined with the Tantric Yoga
techniques Maverick mastered can lead to sexual slavery in the wrong hands. All
the guards know about it; it’s the main reason we volunteer.”

Jez raised an eyebrow. “TMI. Why do
the bedroom habits of his ex matter?”

Benny glared at the guard to keep
him silent. “She owns 10 percent of the stock in DB’s media company.”

“No prenup?”

“The parent company was created to
merge several others after the marriage: software, internet services, film. 20
percent of the worth was the film production company Claudette built. She was a
successful business woman. DB ended up getting half of that. She felt robbed
and quite bitter. She was probably pretty easy to sway.

“In the proxy battle, DB claimed that
having more controls over the satellites would put his entertainment channels
ahead of the competition. The board argued that the aerospace company paid more
to the bank than it did to investors because of severe underbidding.”

Jez said, “But they have a huge
market share which will translate into dominance in another six years. The US can’t afford NASA’s fee schedules any more. It’s inevitable: Brazil and China.”

Benny held up his hands. “You’re
preaching to the choir. She used her influence to block Dirt Bag with the
board. So DB countered by using his real-estate company’s Italian auto firm.
They made engines in World War II and still produce a handful of custom airplane
engines each year, so they were technically licensed as an international
aerospace company already. It was no problem for them to acquire another
company in the same line of business. He financed it out of his own pocket and
got EU approval because paying off that debt saved a major German bank from
insolvency.”

She nodded. “His motto is, ‘Never
ask for what you can’t take.’ So this martial artist does the nasty with his
attention-starved ex. Why do you get involved? DB doesn’t want you sniffing
around her either. Why not go to Texas himself?”

“It was in the divorce agreement.
She gets Texas year-round and all the film-festival cities for the week of the
festival. He gets the rest of the world.”

She chuckled. “Why do I feel like
the kids in a divorce? Who gets Turkey for Thanksgiving? Seriously, what does
he expect you to do?”

“Meet with her and ask if she needs
rescuing from Maverick. I knew her before the Project; she'll talk to me.”

“Let me take that mission. I can
blend in. I think I can even get an invitation through a former co-worker. This
whole thing is kind of sweet. Dirt Bag does have a heart.”

Benny said, “Sure, but he keeps it
in a cooler in his desk. He only knows this because he pays ‘fans’ to tweet
about her every move.”

As their van slowed in front of a
rest-home community, she said, “Some people show affection in strange ways.”

“Speaking of which, we’re at my dad’s
place. He’s having his weekly poker game with all the other former studio big
wigs. Stay in the van.”

“Ashamed of me?” she demanded. “This
is still my mission.”

“No, I’m ashamed of
him
.
Grrr… Come on, just ignore the old lecher. I’ll try to make it quick.”

They walked through an elaborately
landscaped path to a small, stucco villa. Eighty-year-old men were throwing
chips onto a round, green table inside. When Jez walked in, all chatter
stopped. She felt like a wildebeest at the lion convention.

Benny opened with, “Bernie.”

The ancient director countered with
the equally effusive, “Son.” To Jez, he waved his scotch and croaked, “Miss,
could I interest you in a little drink?”

Benny tried to correct him. “She’s
in the program…”

Jez interrupted, “Do you have
orange juice, sloe gin and Southern Comfort?”

“I only stock Glenlivet,” the old
director growled, fishing for a cigar in his pocket. Then he described sloe gin
as an African-American drink, using a colorful word only permitted in rap
songs.

 “Dad!”

She sat on the arm of his large,
padded chair and sighed, “Oh well, you can’t have a Sloe Comfortable Screw
without them.”

All the players roared with
approval. Benny buried his face. After winning the hand, the elder Hollis said,
“You, I like. You’re cute and lucky. Why are you wasting time with this boy?”

She shrugged, “I keep swooning, and
he keeps driving me home. Eventually, he’ll get the clue. He came here as a
favor to me.”

With trembling hands, the director
struggled to pick up all the cards on the table. She leaned over and scooped
them up for him. After she performed a few fancy shuffles, he asked, “So what
do you do for a living, doll?”

“I used to get tied up and
handcuffed. Now I’m studying to be a rocket scientist.”

A man with a horrible, brown toupee
and a nasal accent said, “Do I know you? Vegas?” Oddly, the show-business
people groaned, considering this comment in poorer taste than the racist slur.
He squinted at the butterfly necklace. “You worked with a magician: great
illusions and this girl could twist like a pretzel.”

She smiled and dealt a face-up ace
to each man. “Thank you. It’s always nice to meet a fan.”

The men clapped.

Bernie Hollis chuckled like a
pirate. “So what can I do for the charming lady?”

She phrased it carefully. “Well, I’m
a recruiter for Fortune’s film company, and we have a consultant on the Middle East that we need this week. The consultant said he’d do it if he got to have lunch
with a few famous people who spoke French while he was here. The only ones I’ve
met are Canadian, and evidently they don’t count. Benny said if I let you
embarrass him enough, you might say a word to some director so he’d come too.”

“Stay there, be my luck, and you’ve
got a deal, toots.” Bernie Hollis grinned, putting an arm around her waist. “You
want stories, I’ve got stories.”

BOOK: Jezebel's Ladder
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