A Wolf at the Door

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that. Weird like how?” Tai leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t know. Unexplained oddities? Noises, or the feeling of being watched. Or even just someone new lurking around more often than you’d expect?” Would have helped if Axel could have given me a clue what to be watching for.

Bobby chuckled. At least, I think it was a chuckle. It was a sharp, staccato noise, reminiscent of a machine gun rattling. “We work for Gretchen Keene. We’re always being watched.” Again, they traded looks, silently talking over just how much to tell me.

Finally, Bobby said, “We always gotta be careful, with Gretchen. Her fans…well, they’re not always the sanest bunch.”

“Tai mentioned a stalker, earlier. That was a couple of years ago, right? What happened?”

Tai nodded toward Bobby. “He was there, for the last of it. Happened before my time.”

Bobby nodded a little. “Several years ago, Gretchen had a guy stalking her. To the point where he got into her house a couple different times. Killed her dog, once, left it for her.” I couldn’t help but grimace. Don’t care how bitchy you are, no one deserves that. “About the third time he got in, the cops were waiting. They shot him. He lived, of course, went to jail, but he’s due for release in the next few months. That’s why we’re staying here instead of a private house. Figured security is better, here.”

“But nothing recent? Nothing even weirder than usual?”

“Nah. Just the paparazzi, like always.”

Hm. Hadn’t factored in cameras. Probably should have. “They follow her pretty close?”

Bobby grunted. “Gretchen’s made a kind of deal with them. She allows so much without protest, if they go away when she says. Works out well for them, and gives her a little privacy. But they’ll be at the club tonight.”

“The only rule is, don’t lay hands on them.” Tai made a face. “No matter how up in your face they get, decking one of them is really bad. If they create too much of a problem, we just call the cops.” Geez, this was sounding better and better.

“So, only this room and mine have people in them? Where do you guys stay?”

Tai pointed toward the extra bedroom. “Neither of us have families or anything, so we crash there. We’re out at all bizarre hours of the night, so most of the time we take turns sleeping during the day, just in case she needs us for something. Everything else on this floor is empty, since Gretchen tossed all the freeloaders out a couple weeks ago.”

“And good riddance,” Bobby muttered.

So far, my suspected bad guy list consisted of a big fat lot of nothing, sad to say. But disgruntled moochers sounded like motivation. “Who were they? The people she tossed?”

“Just…people. Hollywood people. Gretchen had a party…oh, about a month ago? Opened up the other rooms so folks could crash here if they wanted. Only some of them didn’t leave. Apparently had no intention of leaving, sponging off the room, charging up room service.” The older man made a face that indicated what he thought of such freeloaders. “Then last week, Gretchen got fed up with it and booted them all out. Didn’t break my heart any, they were making security a nightmare.”

Tai chuckled, shaking his head. “You thought earlier was bad, you shoulda seen her then. I swear, lightning was gonna come down and smite them dead, the way she was going on.”

“What about Dante? He’s still here.” The groupie had vanished while I was unpacking, so I still didn’t have a good feel for him yet.

“Dante? Hell, they’ve been friends since they were in diapers, you hear them tell it. He’s kinda permanent. Good guy. Little loud. He’ll flirt with just about anything that moves, including you, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just his way. Most of the time, when she’s on the warpath, he can get her to chill out. She yelled at him for tracking mud across the carpet last week, but I think that’s the only time I’ve ever seen her mad at him.”

The doorbell rang, and Bobby tossed the remote to Tai as he got up to answer it. I turned to watch, curious as to what kind of visitors Miss Keene got on a daily basis. What exactly did a movie star do when they weren’t being in movies?

“Hey, Reggie. ’Sup, man?”

Reggie was the agent, or so I’d been told, and I was real interested to see who this guy was. More importantly, I was interested to see what he was. I half expected to find out he was Axel in disguise, which would make the next few moments very interesting if it turned out to be true.

He looked normal enough, I’ll give him that. Older than me, if I had to guess, but out here in the Botox-and-lipo belt, his exact age was impossible to determine. A nice tan, probably fake but well done. Personal trainer kinda body, not overly muscular, but no visible fat. Slacks and a polo shirt with a real polo guy on it. Highlighted, sandy hair. Not at all as stuffy and high-strung as I’d expected. I’d dealt with agents before (it hadn’t gone well), and Reggie didn’t fit in the little shoebox in my head labeled “agent.”