Total Sarcasm by Dan Ames & Dani Amore

Author:Dan Ames & Dani Amore [Ames, Dan & Amore, Dani]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Mystery, Police Procedurals, Women Sleuths
Amazon: B00HGSV6I4
Published: 2014-03-11T05:00:00+00:00

2

Two

“Goddammit, where’s that new fucking PA?”

LAPD Homicide Detective Jacob Cornell dropped the stack of apple crates he was carrying and hurried toward the director. In film production, “PA” stood for Production Assistant—the lowest of the low, but perhaps the most essential workers on a film crew. They were glorified gophers.

“Right here!” Jake called out.

“Quit standing around with your thumb up your ass and bring me the lens case,” the director said. His name was Morrison. “NOW!” he added.

Morrison—just the one name of course—was one of the top pornography directors in Los Angeles, and he was a little guy. He had short, stunted legs, with a muscular upper body and a big, blocky, square head. Jake thought he probably had a touch of dwarfism, combined with plenty of weightlifter’s steroids. And he had a personality to match: sort of a Napoleonic Complex with a side of ‘Roid Rage.

“Motherfucker, hurry up!” Morrison yelled.

“Little shit,” Jake mumbled under his breath. He had hated the idea of going undercover on a porn film crew, but he had been temporarily assigned to Vice, and as the new guy, he’d gotten the short straw.

Short straw, all right, Jake thought, as he hurried up to Morrison.

“What’s your name again?” Morrison asked.

“It’s—” Jake started to say, ready to give his undercover name, which was Gary Mazier.

“I’ll tell you what it is,” the director interrupted him. “It’s Drag Ass. Because you’re too fucking slow, Drag Ass.”

Jake’s hand inadvertently went to where his gun holster would be, the idea of shooting this little man-child blossoming in his mind.

Unfortunately, Jake didn’t find the gun. He handed the case of lenses to Morrison resisting the urge to clobber the Keebler elf over the head with them.

The little man snatched it from Jake’s hand and turned to the camera.

“Go away, Drag Ass,” Morrison said.

Jake walked back to his pile of light reflectors and stands and thought how glad he was Mary Cooper wasn’t around to hear this crap. God, she’d have a field day with it.

The thought of Mary made him smile. She was a handful. A smartass to end all smartasses. But she was his smartass, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

A lot of people failed to see through her shield of sarcasm, but he could. And he liked what he saw.

Jake opened the door to a storage room and was met by a big security guard. He put his hand on Jake’s chest and pushed him back out the door.

“No, no, no . . .” the guard said.

“What—“ Jake said.

“Never mind. Nothing here for you to see.” Jake looked at the man’s T-shirt. It said “Venice Security.” Under that, was the name “Paolo.” Jake thought about it. He was here to ostensibly find out if this production company, which was really a compendium of different companies, might be using minors as on-camera talent.

Whatever might be behind storage door number one, he decided to let it go for now.

“Fine, Paolo,” Jake said.

“Any time, Drag Ass,” the security guard said with a smirk.

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