Chapter 21
“Tempting,” Catalina said. The words slid from her tongue like velvet. “But you’re going to have to work harder than that. I crafted two great adventures for us. Let’s see what you can come up with,” she said with a sassy eyebrow. “That is if you’re so inclined.”
“I’m inclined,” I said, staring into her smoldering eyes.
She had definitely thrown down the gauntlet.
“Good. I’ll expect a call with an irresistible offer.”
“You’ll get one,” I assured.
She gave me a quick kiss on the lips.
I didn’t mind.
“Until next time, deputy.”
I stepped out of the car, and Marco pulled away. I watched them go, then walked the dock to the Avventura. Catalina certainly was an interesting woman.
I boarded the boat and found Jack on the sky deck with the guys in the band playing an acoustic set for a few groupies.
Jack’s face wrinkled when he saw me. After the song ended, he said, “What are you doing back so early?”
“The date ended.”
“You piss her off?”
“No.”
“Crash and burn, huh?”
“No. We’re getting to know each other. She’s a respectable woman.”
He rolled his eyes. “I think you crashed and burned.”
I laughed, then went to the bar and mixed a drink. I joined the party for a bit before heading off to sleep to dream about the vixen.
In the morning, I got up with the sunrise, went through my morning routine, then headed down to the galley to grill up breakfast. I made pancakes, toast, hash browns, and bacon.
JD stumbled out of bed, looking bleary-eyed with tousled hair. He made a beeline for the coffee pot. The party hadn’t gotten too out of hand last night, but it did rage on until the wee hours of the morning.
We dished up plates and chowed down on the sky deck. Jack enjoyed his last meal before his dental procedure.
I called Joel, my Hollywood agent. He was a power player in Tinseltown and knew everyone.
My accidental Hollywood career, if you could call it that, began after a weekend with a starlet gone wrong.
Everyone wanted my version of the story of that fateful adventure.
It culminated in a major motion picture and plenty of offers.
Since then, Joel had been handling everything.
One of the few good players in La La Land.
“I need a favor,” I said.
“Great, and I need you out here in LA taking meetings.”
“Well, if people would stop killing each other…”
“Make some time.”
“I will.”
He didn’t buy it. “What do you need?”
I told him.
He laughed. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to arrange this just so you can impress a date?”
“Yes,” I said dryly.
“She must be special.”
“She’s… interesting. Do you think you can make it happen?”
“I can make anything happen. But this is a long shot.”
“Give it your best shot. Let me know when you’ve got it lined up.”
“You’re going to owe me.”
“I know.”
I thanked him and ended the call.
After breakfast, I rode with Jack over to the professional building. I didn't think he’d be dosed up on any heavy drugs, but I’d be there just in case he needed someone to drive him home.
Pepper checked him in at the desk, and we waited in the lobby. Jack fidgeted with nervous anticipation. Nobody liked going under the drill.
The assistant called him back after a few minutes.
Jack stood up, put the magazine on the coffee table, and said, "Wish me luck."
I hung out, read magazines, and talked to Pepper while the sound of the drill echoed throughout the office.
The flatscreen was tuned to a 24-hour news channel. A reporter interviewed Senator Charles Bergen.
“Why the shift?”
“I don’t think I’ve shifted my position at all,” Bergen said. “Maybe solidified it. Strengthened it.”
Bergen was early 60s with silver hair, a narrow face, and a slightly crooked nose. He’d been in politics since before the dinosaurs.
The reporter gave him a doubtful look, then quoted from her notes. “‘I believe it’s time we de-militarize the police. Re-allocate budgets to more community programs. We don’t have a crime problem—we have a social problem. More police officers is not the solution.’ That was you just last year.”
“As I said, my views on the subject have become more focused,” he said with a smile.
“Last year, you were calling for budget cuts, less interdiction, softer penalties. This year, you’re pushing increased spending, more interdiction, harsher penalties. Sounds like a flip-flop to me.”
Bergen’s face tightened. “The world is an evolving place.”
“Is this evolution of policy a result of your declining poll numbers moving into the midterms?”
Bergen didn’t like the way the interview was going. He forced a smile. “No. I’m not concerned with midterms. My concern is my constituents.”
I stayed out of politics. The insiders in DC weren’t on the streets fighting the good fight. They didn’t see the teenagers ODing on fentanyl. They didn’t raid the semisubmersibles with $150 million in cocaine. They didn’t see the lives destroyed.
It seemed like the tighter we squeezed, the more avenues for corruption opened up. I didn’t have the answers. It seems futile at times, but I just did what I could do and tried not to think about the bigger picture.
It took the dentist about an hour to do the tooth prep, and when Jack emerged, he didn't look any worse for wear.
Dr. Latham hovered in the doorway and said, "Take some ibuprofen when you get home, and just take it easy for the rest of the day. I was able to get in and drill out most of the cracks. You had a massive cavity underneath that filling, so this was the right thing to do. If you have any problems, don't hesitate to call me. We’ll work through them together. You’ll be pretty numb for the rest of the afternoon, so don't chew on that side. No heavy food for 24 hours. You've got a temporary crown, and we’ll set the permanent one in about two weeks when it comes back from the lab.”
JD and I left the office and walked back to the Porsche.
"How are you feeling?"
He looked at me like I was crazy. "I just had my tooth drilled out. How do you think I feel?" he slurred. "I can't feel half my face.”
I drove him back to the boat. He took some ibuprofen, then climbed back into bed.
My phone buzzed with a call from Isabella. "I don't have all the answers, but something's going on."
"I'm listening.”
"I watched all of that footage, and I do mean all. I hope you can appreciate that."
"I do."
"After Evelyn took the picture with the Easter Bunny, she walked through the mall and left something in a plant box.
I was able to zoom in and upscale that footage.
It looked like it was a small plastic egg.
She kept walking, and the shooter followed her.
From the footage, I don't think he was able to see her put the egg in the plant box.”
"I saw that.”
"Here's where it gets interesting. Some kid grabbed the egg after she left.
That's when another woman came along and tried to take the egg from the kid.
As you can imagine, that didn't go over well with the kid's mother.
They fought about it for a moment, and the kid's mother made a scene.
Needless to say, the other woman didn't get the egg.”
"What was inside the egg?" I asked in a rhetorical tone.
"That's what I'd like to know.” She paused. "I was able to get a match on facial ID for the woman and the kid's mother. This is where it gets really interesting.”
She had my full attention.
Isabella continued. "The woman's name is Tonya Hart. She works for the White Rabbit.”
"White Rabbit?”
"It's a codename for Paige Vesper, Tonya’s half sister.
She runs a private intel firm that deals with risk mitigation, corporate espionage, that kind of thing.
Discrete. Covert ops. Among other things, she's a data broker.
Whether you're buying or selling information, she can make connections, for a fee.”
Through the haze, this case was beginning to come into focus. Still, there were a lot of pieces to put together.
"Evelyn must have acquired proprietary data and was looking for a buyer," I said.
"That's my guess. There must be something pretty important in that plastic egg. I'm guessing a thumb drive.”
"Rory Sinclair is starting to look like a prime suspect,” I said.
"I think you're getting warmer."
"So how does the Easter Bunny play into this?"
"I have a theory about that. You may think it's silly, but…
I think Rory found out he had a data breach.
I think he found out Evelyn had contacted the White Rabbit.
Maybe he knew they were meeting at the mall and sent a hitman there to take them both out.
I think the hitman took the White Rabbit literally.
When she sat on the Easter bunny's lap and took that selfie, the shooter made him for the contact.”
“That would explain it,” I said.
"Sometimes triggermen aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed," she said.
It was tragic. A miscommunication resulted in the death of an innocent life. Cody had no involvement in this whatsoever and had no way of knowing what was coming.
"You need to find out what was in that egg," Isabella said.
“I can't say for certain where it is, but I'm guessing the kid’s got it. His mother’s name is Sherry Jackson.
She lives on Channel View Court in the Chateau Del Mar.
" After a pause, Isabella said, “If she's got the data, you can bet Paige Vesper’s after it.
So is Rory Sinclair. Sherry is not safe, and neither is her kid. "