“Jinx, did you make your husband a drunk, an abuser, a rapist? Did you make him drive off that ramp?”
I was continuing in this vein, but she stopped me. She put her hand on my chest. She was struggling to get something out.
“I’m afraid…to trust myself again…to be with a man.”
She was leaning against me.
“I feel like I want to hold you,” I said.
She looked up at me, her eyes full of tears. “I need to be held.”
I took her into my arms, and at last she cried.
I hadn’t expected to feel close to her. I didn’t even welcome the feeling, but it was undeniable. I liked Jinx a lot.
CHAPTER 89
It was just after midnight. Except for a plastic bag blowing around the street and the odd car lost in the wrong neighborhood, absolutely nothing was happening on Anderson and Artemus.
The Private fleet car was a gray 2007 Chevy sedan, parked on Anderson, just south of Artemus, where the guys had a view of the entrance to the Red Cat Pottery, as well as the loading docks on Artemus.
Del Rio was at the wheel, Cruz riding shotgun, Scotty in the backseat. Everyone was very quiet.
Cruz said, “Call Jack.”
Del Rio got Jack on the line and told him where they were. They exchanged thoughts on how to steal a fortune in illegal pharmaceuticals on behalf of the Vegas Mob without getting caught, without getting thrown in the clink for twenty years, with no help from Carmine Noccia.
Del Rio said, “It’s getting late, Jack. That Oxy is going to leave the warehouse one box at a time. In another few weeks there’s going to be an empty van in there and Noccia is going to break heads. He’s going to start with yours.”
Jack gave Del Rio the go-ahead, and Del Rio hung up.
Cruz started the car and drove to Boyd, a dead-end street parallel to Artemus, where he found a space among the delivery trucks and panel vans parked all along the length of it, both sides of the street walled in by cement-block warehouses colorfully tagged with spray-painted graffiti.
Del Rio twisted around in his seat. “Scotty. You’re up. Let’s rock ’n’ roll.”
Scotty took a slug off his water bottle and said, “I’m liking the window below the stairs.”
“Make it quick,” Del Rio said.
Scotty pulled on a pair of work gloves, turned the dome light to the “off” position, and opened the back door.
Del Rio said, “Wait a second.”
When the taxi had passed on Anderson, Del Rio told Scotty to go. Scotty was wearing black from neck to toe and was almost invisible except for the shine coming off his blond hair. Del Rio and Cruz watched as he reached the top of the alley and crossed the street, still in view of the Chevy.
Then Scotty disappeared.
A half minute after that, an alarm shrieked, and seconds later, the back door of the car opened and Scotty got in, saying, “Did you time me?”
Cruz laughed. “You were quick, yo. Like in those films where they stop time and the one guy runs between all those frozen people, you know?”
Del Rio said, “Let’s see how fast the cops answer the call.”
Four minutes later, the first sirens came up South Anderson and stopped out of sight. From the proximity of the squawking car radios, Del Rio figured they were outside the roll-up gates at the loading dock.
The three investigators ducked down in their seats, Del Rio assuring himself that so far no crime had been committed. Scotty had only rattled a window until the alarm went off. They waited for more cars to arrive, but only the two cruisers showed up.
When the cops had left, Del Rio and his team did the same thing: set off the alarm, then waited for the cops to come and leave again. Then they did it once more.
CHAPTER 90
Justine woke up to a racket.
Rocky was going nuts and bananas, barking, his toenails clacking as he got traction on the hardwood floors in his scramble toward the front door.
Justine looked at the clock. It was just before seven.
What the hell was this? In between Rocky’s barks, she heard her doorbell ringing insistently.
She threw a robe on over her silk PJs and walked to the foyer, thinking it had to be Jack. Who else would dare? She peeked through the peephole, then opened the door to Danny’s manager, Larry Schuster.
His clothes were rumpled, his patchy beard was coming in-in sum, he looked like he’d slept in his car.
“I’m sorry about the time, Dr. Smith. I have to talk to you.”
“Call me Justine. Did something happen to Danny?”
“No, he’s still in the hospital. I was driving around all night. I finally came to a decision.”
“Here’s an idea, Larry. I’ll be at the office at nine. Why don’t you meet me there?”
“This will only take a few minutes. Please. It’s important. I can’t take a chance that someone sees me and thinks I told you what I know.”
“You’ll never eat lunch in this town again?”
Schuster smiled. “Exactly.”
Justine told Schuster to come in. She led him to the kitchen, asked him to make coffee and to take a seat at the counter. She went to her bedroom and reappeared a few minutes later, dressed for work.
Justine took a carton of milk out of the fridge, then poured coffee into mugs.
“Sugar?”
“Yes, please.”
Justine put the sugar bowl next to the milk. She fed her cat and her dog and told Schuster to start talking.
“There were other girls.”
“There were other girls what?”
“Besides Katie Blackwell, three other girls in the past year threatened to sue Danny for unwanted, um, sexual contact.”
“Shit,” Justine said. “You should have told me this before I took the case, Larry. This is a contract breaker, as if we didn’t already have enough reason to tell you and Danny good luck without us.”
“Please don’t do that,” Larry said.
“I was a shrink in a mental hospital, did you know that?”
“Yes. That place in Santa Monica. Crossroads.”
“That’s right. So I know a thing or two about mental disorders. But the way Danny keeps fooling me makes me think he’s delusional. He believes his own stories.”
“No, he’s telling the truth. He was loyal to Piper. He didn’t have sex with those girls.”
“Then who did? This crap about someone else running his life could possibly get Danny some kind of insanity deal, but I wouldn’t count on it. You should prepare yourself. Danny is looking at prison for a very long time.”
“He didn’t molest those girls and he didn’t murder Piper either.”
“Larry, unless you say, ‘I know he didn’t do it, because I killed her,’ I’m not going to believe you.”
Schuster said nothing. He just stared at her.
“Did you kill Piper, Larry?”
“No. No. I’m sorry. I was just thinking whether it’s all right for me to tell you what I think-”
“Tell me, damn it. Or get the hell out of here and don’t ever call me again.”
“Alan Barstow.”
“Do not make me drag this out of you.”
“Alan Barstow paid off those other girls. And he tried to pay off Katie Blackwell. Alan stands to make many, many millions on Danny and will do whatever it takes to keep him as a client.”
“Why would he kill Piper? What’s his motive?”
“Piper didn’t like Alan. She was trying to get Danny to change agencies. If Piper got between Alan and Danny, Alan would have been dangerous. He’s a very scary dude. You should seriously check him out, Justine. I think you should put him on a skewer and fire up the grill.”
CHAPTER 91
Justine drove the car around the lake with the Vegas-style fountain set in front of the enormous black glass building in Century City. The Monolith, as it was called, was home to Creative Talent Management, the biggest, most influential talent agency in Hollywood. And the world.