I shake my head, laughing to myself. “No reason.”
The server saves me from embarrassment by coming over to take our orders.
CeCe rakes her fingers through her hair, flipping the thick blonde strands over her shoulder. We order our meals and predictably, CeCe gets the grilled salmon on a bed of spinach. I get the Mahi-mahi.
“So,” she teases, “why are you bribing me with dinner?”
I put down my beer and chuckle. “Who says I’m bribing you? Can’t a guy take out a friend without there being a reason?”
“Of course. But, I know you. So spill. What’s going on?”
Suddenly uncomfortable, I wipe the palms of my hands on my jeans. “I don’t know. I’m just…restless, I guess. I start with a new client tomorrow—”
“See. You’re so predictable. It is a case,” CeCe giggles.
I shoot her a fake glare. “If you’d let me finish.”
She waves a hand at me, urging me to go on.
“Anyway, it’s not the type of client I usually accept.”
The server brings our plates, asks us if we want anything else, and leaves when we tell him we’re all set.
“What do you mean?” CeCe asks around a mouthful of food.
“For one thing, it’s a celebrity.”
Her eyes go round. “Celebrity? Okay. That’s not too odd. This is Los Angeles in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Ha-ha. I know that.” I shift in my seat. “I’ve been hired to investigate a stalker.”
CeCe puts down her fork, wipes her mouth, and leans in. “Okay, now I’m interested.”
“I can’t tell you who it is, Cee.” I shove a forkful of food in my mouth.
“I know, Mitch, but it’s like you said…you’ve avoided famous clients so far. The question is, why now?”
I sigh and take a huge swig of my beer. “Personal favor. My cousin is a good friend of a friend of the celebrity.” I wave my hand. “Something like that anyway. I do the criminal investigation and profiling part regularly, but I’ll have to basically be with this guy all the time until I catch the stalker.”
“It’s that bad?”
“Yeah, it’s that bad. The threats have escalated over time from letters to gifts to a dead animal in his hotel room.”
“H
oly shit.” CeCe’s mouth drops open.
“I know.”
I think about how Gavin lashed out at being trapped in his house, basically being babysat 24/7 and feel bad for the guy. Then I remember how tense it was watching the Dodgers game the other night and frown.
“What’s that for?”
“Huh? What’s what for?”
“That irritated look on your face?”
“Irritated?” I fumble my fork. “Oh. Yeah. The client is kind of a jerk. I mean… he was the other night. He was literally vibrating with tension. I could tell he was going to do something stupid, you know? Like go out somewhere without protection, stubborn bastard. So I sort of invited myself to stay at his house and watch the Nationals game.”