As Jenny waded into the mob, she spied Candy and waved frantically, trying to get her friend’s attention. Through the noisy crowd and the flashing lights Candy caught a glimpse of Jenny’s manufactured commotion. She and Tommy danced toward her, elbowing their way through the drug-induced throng.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The noon sun and blue sky were testimony to another beautiful cloudless Southern California day. Jake made his way down the crowded Santa Monica Pier, continuing his mission to purge the judicial system of one more gutter-dwelling lawyer. In the morning the concrete and steel finger pointing into the Pacific was occupied by fishermen; by noon it was sightseers, lunchtime diners, and panhandlers hitting up the tourists. The sound of the 1922 carousel provided an amusement park atmosphere as vendors hawked their goods while street performers entertained the more than four million people who visited each year.
Though Jake was convinced Reid really wanted to have his pregnant girlfriend killed, he wanted to make sure it was just that and not a law enforcement setup, a blue-on-blue situation. He sized up the crowd on the pier and no one jumped out as a plainclothes cop. As he neared the meeting spot, he spied the attorney nervously waiting for the hit man. Jake was on time and glad Reid wouldn’t keep him waiting.
He gave another cursory look over the crowd. It seemed safe and he approached the target. Reid extended his hand and Jake grabbed it, pulling the lawyer toward him, subtly running his hands up and down the attorney’s back. As Jake released the hug, he smiled, turned toward the water, and leaned on the rail, watching the ocean waves break on the shore.
“You still don’t trust me?” asked Reid, almost sounding hurt, joining the fictitious hit man on the rail. Both were looking north up the Malibu coast.
“Why should I? You called me on the recommendation of someone neither of us trusts and asked me to kill your pregnant girlfriend. Not exactly the request of an honorable man worthy of respect or confidence,” said Jake, reinforcing for the audio recorder why this undercover meeting was necessary. He inched closer to Reid, ensuring his hidden digital audio/video recording device picked up the conversation without a lot of ambient noise.
“I’d hate to go through life being that distrusting.”
“That makes us even.”
“How so?” asked Reid.
“I’d hate to go through life being a bottom-feeder who lacked the stones to pull the trigger when a problem arose.”
Reid wanted to verbally attack and rip this undereducated Neanderthal, but fear and necessity were strong motivators to couch his criticism in less caustic terms. “I don’t think that kind of personal attack is necessary. This is strictly a business relationship. I also don’t change the oil on my Aston Martin or butcher my own beef. I don’t like to get my hands greasy or bloody. I can afford to outsource those services. You provide a service I need and I’m willing to pay. Quite handsomely, I might add.”
“Capitalism at work.”
Reid attempted to restore his wounded ego. “Someday you might need the services of ‘a bottom-feeder,’ as you call me. When that time comes you will want the best.” He paused as if delivering a closing argument to a jury hanging on his every word, and added, “I am the best.”
“Let’s get back to capitalism.” Jake looked around the pier, more for show than security. “Did you bring the money?”
Jake angled his body just a few inches from Reid, who was now practically speaking into the microphone.
Reid pulled an envelope from inside his suit coat pocket and handed it to Jake. The business envelope had the return address of the law office in the upper left-hand corner. Harvard might be prestigious but they obviously graduate some dumb ones. Thanks for the additional piece of circumstantial evidence. Without looking at the contents, Jake stuffed the white envelope up under his shirt and into his waistband.
“There’s twenty-five thousand in there. You get the second half when I know the job is done.”
“That was the arrangement. You better not be short. If it is and I think you’re playing me I walk away and keep the deposit.”
“Why would I short you on this end? I want her dead,” Reid said emphatically.
Perfect. The attorney just kept digging the hole deeper, burying himself with his bravado.
“When do you want this done?”
“I’ll be in Hawaii all next week for a legal conference. That’s my alibi. Several hundred lawyers will provide all the eyewitnesses I need. In fact, I’m the keynote speaker at the Wednesday luncheon. Can you do it then?”
“If I’m building an alibi, lawyers wouldn’t be at the top of my list for ‘must have’ witnesses.”
Reid wanted to respond but looked away, a show of weakness. The undercover pit bull decided to continue the attack. “How come you guys never have conferences in South Central L.A.? I know a perfect little motel on Figueroa and I bet I can get you a deal. Give back a little to the community.”
“You’re kidding, aren’t you? Why would I hang out with a bunch of gangbangers when I’ve got Polynesian beauties catering to my every whim and all tax deductible? It’s bad enough those hip-hop cretins soil my office when they seek my counsel. I sure don’t want to socialize among them. Besides, your perfect little hideaway on Figueroa isn’t next to a golf course. Apparently you don’t know very much about continuing legal education.”
Jake shook his head. “A touching display of altruism.”
“So can you do it on Wednesday?”
“I don’t see why not. You got all the info I need in the envelope, right? Her name, address, a picture, vehicles, employment?”
“Yeah, it’s all in there.”
“You said she’s Korean?” asked Jake.
“No, I said Asian. You said Korean,” shot Reid. “Why did you say Korean?”
Jake knew he’d slipped up the instant he said it. Undercover agents are killed for the little mistakes, not the big ones. Focus.
“So what is she?” he quickly countered.
“She’s Korean.”
“Then what’s the problem? Tommy’s Korean and Tommy referred me. Maybe they all look alike to you but I happen to know there’s a difference.”
Reid stumbled on Jake’s swift response. “There… there isn’t a problem. I just never said Korean.”
“North or South?” fired Jake.
“How should I know North or South?”
“She’s your pregnant girlfriend. I’d think you would have asked at some point while you were bedding her.”
“She was a good time and now she’s expendable. She could have gone away quietly but she wanted to flex her scrawny little muscles and make demands.”
Jake dodged a bullet as Reid pulled out his Cartier cigarette case and removed a cigarette. He tapped it on the holder and placed it in his mouth. Still wanting to maintain his power position, Jake flicked the cigarette from the attorney’s mouth. “Don’t you read the warning label? Those things will kill you.”
The cigarette fell to the ocean as Reid nervously slipped the case back into his jacket.
“How’d you meet her?” asked Jake.
“I do some work with her father.”
“Legal?”
“You mean am I his attorney or is the work I do legal?”
Jake turned up the intensity. “I just want to know what I’m getting into. Is this Kim Jong Un’s half sister? Will I have to be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life for some fresh-off-the-boat, North Korean commie assassin?”