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Having moved Miss Juggs; her assistant Mrs. June, the older black lady; and her bodyguard, whom she introduced only as “Beefcake” into my private office, I took a seat and asked, “How can I be of service Miss Juggs?”

“Justene, please, Detective.”

“Alright. How can I help you, Justene?”

“It seems,” Mrs. June said, “that Miss Juggs has acquired a stalker.”

“I see. Have you tried the police?”

“Yes,” said Justene. “They followed me for awhile and it seemed to scare him off but after they left he came back. Or she. We’re not actually sure. No one on my staff has seen them.”

“What are they doing? How are they stalking you?”

“Harassing ‘love’ letters, talking about fucking me. Phone calls where there is just dead air on the other side. Sometimes they send me gifts. Dirty underwear, used condoms, a buttplug that had dried shit on it. And photos of me, my boyfriends, my girlfriends, my family. Things that he had to have taken while following me.” She was flustered.

“Have you ever been stalked before?”

“Yes, lots of times. But not like this. With them it was always some guy or some girl following me around, stealing my trash. I’d confront them, give them a good fuck and some dirty panties and they’d go away.”

“I’ll need unlimited access. Wherever you go I go. Your house, friends’ houses, photo shoots, sets. All access. And I’ll probably have to harass some people you know. It’s possible someone in your life is doing it to freak you out for some reason.”

“Done.”

“This will be a long job, lots of hours; I may have to call in some help. It’s going to cost you”

“You can name your price. I’ll pay it.”

“I’ll need a copy of your schedule. Professional and private. If you have a date with a married man and his wife doesn’t know, I still need ataşehir escort to know.”

“Mrs. June can give you whatever you need.”

She did. I glanced at it. It was a very full schedule. I thought I might never sleep again.

“I’ll start tomorrow morning. You won’t see me at least for the first day or two. I’ll be stalking you looking for your stalker. I’ll need an advance.”

“How’s ten grand?”

“That will be fine,” I said and thought, “Holy Fucking Shit!”

*** *** ***

I had to talk to her business manager after that. Then her lawyer. Then her agent. When they had all finished with me her body guard gave me a quick run through of her security. When we finally finished I walked Justene out of my private office. The dark skinned girl was lying on top of the reception desk, trying to take Brielle’s top off but she wasn’t having it. “She isn’t into girls,” I said.

“Too bad,” said the girl, “she has nice tits.”

Justene said, “Zulekya, heel” and the girl snapped to attention. Hopping off the desk, she rushed to Justene’s side, knelt and put one arm around her leg. Justene caressed the side of Zulekya’s face with the back of one hand. “My fluffer,” she said, “she is very good.” Looking over Brielle she added, “You really should try her sometime. My treat.”

Brielle made an indigent face.

“Oh well. Zulekya’s loss I’m sure.” And they left.

*** *** ***

Brielle and I naturally went out celebrating that night and I was quiet hung-over as I sat in my car, a green ’93 Ford Taurus — which was less conspicuous than either my dark metallic green ’70 Road Runner or Brielle’s red ’84 Ferrari — two doors down from Justene’s house. She was in a good neighborhood; very expensive, very large houses with microscopic yards avcılar escort surrounded her own. I had been setting there since seven and it was nearly ten before any of the house lights came on.

Mrs. June arrived fifteen minutes later, in a silver embroidered skirt and jacket with matching shoes and handbag. Her hair was done up in a bun.

Justene’s bedroom light came on at half past eleven. At a quarter till noon, a Rolls Royce and a black late model Aston Martin pulled up. Justene and her entourage exited the house.

Beefcake, Mrs. June, Justene’s business manager, another man in a business suit I hadn’t meet and three innocent young girls, all in blue jeans and pink shirts got in the Rolls. Justine, in a white tank top and daisy dukes got behind the wheel of the Aston Martin. The fluffer, Zulekya, wearing an unbuttoned shirt tied just below her rack and a pair of tight black short shorts, got in next to her.

They drove off and I followed. We drove 80 mph in the residential and 110 on the highway.

Justene had lunch downtown; then went shopping for three hours. Then had a light dinner, three business meetings, an hour at the gym, another meeting, and an hour at a spa. Then she went home. I never saw any indication of a stalker. Mrs. June left at seven, followed by the business manager and the other suit.

At nine, a yellow Lamborghini pulled up. Justene and Zulekya came out followed by Beefcake. Zulekya was in a tight black mini-dress and 8″ platform heels. Justene was wearing a lime green mini-dress and 6″ heels. They got in the Lamborghini, Beefcake drove.

He drove faster than Justene had and I had a hard time keeping up. I almost lost them when they exited the highway.

Justene stayed out till four AM. She hit seven clubs including avrupa yakası escort a strip club where she got on stage. Three times, she disappeared into a men’s room with guys who had been brave enough to ask. And once she had sex with a drunk girl of about twenty on a table top while the girl’s boyfriend took pictures with his cell phone.

She and Zulekya went with three guys to their apartment around two AM and stayed there for a couple of hours. After they got back to the mansion and the Lamb had driven away, Beefcake walked out to my car and got in.

“How quick you make me?”

“Was pretty sure I had you when we left this morning, but wasn’t positive till we headed for the clubs.”

“You’re good. How is it you can’t spot the stalker?”

“You spot ’em?”

“No.”

“That’s how. I’m good, you’re good. He’s better.” He got out of the car. Started to shut the door, waited a second, leaned back in and said, “you gonna need a faster car you wanna follow Justene around.”

“Yeah, I figured that out.”

He almost smiled, closed the door, and was gone.

I went home.

*** *** ***

I used Brielle’s Ferrari after that and keeping up was easier, even though they drove faster. On the third day, they went out to a mountain lake. In the countryside, they drove 185.

On the way back, we got pulled over. The traffic stop took half an hour, but they weren’t ticketed.

Back at the mansion that afternoon, my cell phone rang. It was Mrs. June.

“Are you here, Detective?”

I said I was.

“Come inside.”

*** *** ***

Beefcake answered the door. He was in his usual dark suit and glasses.

He led me to an office. Mrs. June in beige dress and jacket was standing at the desk. Zulekya was lounging on a sofa wearing only a leopard print bra and panties and flipping through a Penthouse. Justene was behind the desk, she was wrapped in a brown towel.

“This came in today’s mail.” Mrs. June handed me an envelope. Inside were pictures of Justene from the first day I followed her, including a half dozen of me following her.

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