Chapter 10
“Deputies found that lady’s car,” Daniels said. “Perp dumped it a few blocks from where he stole it. The forensic team dusted it for prints and vacuumed the interior for fibers. Maybe we’ll get lucky. I’m not holding my breath.” A frustrated sigh escaped his mouth. “You got any leads?”
“Not at the moment, but I’m looking into it.”
“I’ve got Denise tracking purchases of sulfuric acid, but that’s a slow process.”
“I’ve got my people on it as well.”
“Good.”
I didn’t go into detail about my relationship with Isabella or Cobra Company, and he didn’t ask. The results spoke for themselves, and the less he knew about it, the better. Plausible deniability.
The smell of coffee swirled, and bacon sizzled in the pan.
We chatted for a bit before ending the call.
I flicked on the TV and caught the morning news.
Last night's incident was still the talk of the town.
"Ava Lang is currently in critical but stable condition," a reporter said.
"Sources say that she has suffered 2nd and 3rd degree burns on her face.
This morning, we have a notable plastic surgeon, Dr. Mark Monroe, with us to offer his opinion on the situation.
" The anchor addressed him. "Dr. Monroe, is it possible that Ava will be able to return to modeling?”
"It's really hard to say at this time. It all depends on the extent of the burns and how soon emergency responders were able to neutralize the acid." He winced. "Even with the best plastic surgeon, I worry that her career might be over."
The female hosts cringed.
Heidi said, "Do you think Sebastian Vorn is going to stick around? I can’t imagine he's going to stand by her through this.”
"Heidi," her cohost, Lily, chastised.
Heidi shrugged. "Well, he seems to change girlfriends like he changes underwear. They all seem to have an expiration date around 27.”
"I think they’re in love," Lily replied.
"That better be a deep kind of love," Heidi quipped.
It was a catty morning gossip show, and the cohosts were living up to their reputation.
"We go to our reporter on the street, Ashley Magnuson, to get public opinion on the situation,” Lily said to the camera.
Ashley interviewed a woman in her late 20s. “What do you think of the attack?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have a lot of sympathy for those people. I guess now she’s going to learn what it’s like to be ugly like the rest of us.”
Ashley looked stunned by the response.
“Do you think Sebastian will stick with her?”
The woman laughed. “Are you kidding me? He’ll have another supermodel on his arm by next week.”
Ashley thanked the woman, then turned to the camera. "I guess only time will tell. Live from the streets of Coconut Key, I’m Ashley Magnussen.”
"Thank you, Ashley," Heidi replied. "In a not entirely unexpected announcement, Lumière Cosmetics has announced that Amara will be taking over Ava’s role as the face of the company. Lumière has issued a formal statement saying they wish Ava a speedy recovery and look forward to her returning to her position as company spokesperson. The move has already garnered backlash online, as many are calling the move tone deaf and insensitive. Several are calling for a boycott of the company. We’ll keep you updated on the story as it develops.”
I called Isabella. The story was all over the national news, and she was well aware of it.
I asked her if she could track cell phones in the area during the attack.
Maybe we’d get lucky. I gave her the route that I had chased the perp.
If he had a cell phone, it wouldn’t be hard to identify the movement pattern in line with my own phone.
"I'll look into it and get back to you," Isabella replied before ending the call.
Jack and his companions stumbled into the galley. With tousled hair and bleary eyes, they all looked like they had survived a tornado. The girls had raided Jack's closet and wore oversized T-shirts that barely covered pert bottoms. Not a bad sight first thing in the morning.
We dished up plates and chowed down on the sky deck, talking about the craziness of the prior evening.
Paris had sent me the footage her crew had shot of the attack. We huddled around my phone and watched it. It was just as horrific as I remembered, but I didn't glean any new information about the perp. Male, 25 to 35, medium build, 6 feet tall, shaggy brown hair.
The morning sun beamed across the marina as boats swayed in their slips. It felt good on my face. That little feeling of joy made me think about Ava. It would be a long time before she felt the joy of sunshine on her face. Every time she looked in the mirror, it would be a constant reminder.
After we ate, we dished up plates and returned to the galley.
The TV was still on, and a breaking news segment flashed on the screen.
"An activist group has claimed responsibility for the attack on Ava Lang last night,” Lily said.
“We have an exclusive recording of a phone call made to our station by the alleged attacker just minutes ago.
Our segment producer fielded the call. We'll play it for you now. Be advised, this is raw and unedited."
The voice of the caller crackled through the speaker.
It was a low-quality recording. “I represent the organization responsible for the attack on Ava Lang. I want you to play this message on air in its entirety. If you do that, I will spare everyone at your station from future attacks. If not, you’re fair game.
This is the first of many that are yet to come.
We will target actors, models, musicians, influencers, politicians, and anyone else we think is responsible for the downfall of Western society. You have been warned."
"Why are these people responsible for the downfall of society?”
"If I have to explain it to you, you’re part of the problem.”
"What is your name?"
The caller laughed. "I'm not telling you my name."
“What's the name of your organization?"