Chapter 77 Jordan
SEVENTY-SEVEN
JORDAN
—@AnnieLCSW
Unless Wen had decided she no longer trusted any information that came from him, Jordan knew she would head to Malibu. But Cara wouldn’t go back there until she found what she needed. And she had probably already discovered that the headquarters of Gioni Enterprises, LLC, was an empty shell.
A second web search led Jordan to realize that the Gionis had a lot of business dealings, mostly as financers and developers—although Campbell Cosmetic had never been built.
There was only one business that appeared to be owned and operated by someone who also had a role in the corporate structure.
And it happened to be a retail business with regular hours.
Owned and operated by Ajila Gioni.
He headed west on Santa Monica Boulevard, checking his rearview every few blocks for Silverman’s orange Bronco.
Traffic was light and the trip to Venice Beach only took twenty-five minutes.
The door chimed softly when he walked into Olive and Sal. Jordan took off his sunglasses and let his eyes adjust, trying to determine whether the tree in front of him was real or not.
At the front window, an elegant older woman was tidying a display of little bags of salt in burlap sacks.
“You missed her,” she said.
Jordan’s uniform had given him away.
“You’re also out of your jurisdiction,” she added, beginning to make infinitesimal adjustments to a row of olive oil bottles.
The sun shining through the window lit her hair, and he understood why Cara had followed this particular lead. Not just the company that had loaned money to her husband but the killer with the long, blond hair.
But he also noted the old-woman arms with jiggling flesh hanging loose from the bone.
This was no hammer murderer. He didn’t know much about the Albanian mafia, but surely a highly organized criminal operation would choose a more efficient way to dispose of a business partner who was no longer needed.
“When did she leave?”
“Approximately an hour ago. I happened to look out the window and saw she was driving a black Mustang convertible, a very old one. Oh, and she cut her hair again.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I run a legitimate business. I can’t have criminals coming and going.”
Jordan regarded her carefully. She may have been old, but her dark eyes were still keen with intelligence. “Legitimate? You lent her husband twelve million dollars and the only record of it is a piece of paper.”
That surprised her but she recovered quickly. “I don’t like to pay lawyers.”
“Karl would have had to pay a lawyer, though, once you loaded up his business with debt and forced him into bankruptcy.”
Ajila Gioni shrugged. “It’s hard to say what would have happened next, now that he is no longer with us.”
Gioni Enterprises was an FBI problem. Certainly not his. He would relay this conversation to Wen and let her deal with it.
Jordan left her to her window display and stepped out onto the sidewalk. If Campbell had just ruled out her best, most important avenue of investigation, where would she go next? Did she have more leads to chase? Would she ever give herself up?
Before he packed it in himself, he decided he might as well go to Malibu and take a look at the house.