Chapter 50
After we got dirty in the shower, Brooke packed her bag, and we headed back to the Desert Moon. I changed into some fresh clothes, then we checked out of the hotel. We piled into her car and headed west back toward Los Angeles.
My stomach rumbled, but I wanted to get away from Yucca Flats.
That first meal after a near-death experience is always sublime.
We ditched the burners and didn’t turn on our regular phones until we reached the city.
It was late when we got back to Los Angeles. I told Brooke how to get to Scarlett's place in the hills. With a few twists and turns, she pulled up to the gate, and I gave her the access code. The gate opened, and we drove up the driveway and parked behind the Ferrari. "Nice place."
"Why don't you come inside and meet Scarlett?” I said.
We hopped out, grabbed our bags, and stepped into the foyer. Jack had called Scarlett on the way back and told her we were coming. He neglected to tell her about the fate of the Macan.
She greeted us in the living room with concerned eyes. "Oh, my God. Are you guys okay? What happened? Did you hear about that thing in the desert? It's all over the news."
JD and I shared a guilty look.
"What thing in the desert?" he said in the most innocent voice he could summon.
She gave him a flat look. "What did you guys do?"
"You know, I've been thinking. I really like your car, but the color bothers me. You need something with a little more flash.”
Her eyes narrowed at him. "What happened to my car?”
"How about tomorrow we go get you another one?”
"What happened to my car?”
"It's better if you don't know.” He changed the subject. "I’d like you to meet Brooke.”
Brooke smiled, and the two shook hands. "It's nice to meet you. Jack's been telling me all about you. I've seen a few of your movies. I really liked them.”
"Thank you," Scarlett replied.
"You don't mind if she spends the night tonight," Jack said. "She's got nowhere else to go.”
“I can stay with my mother,” Brooke said. “I need to call her.”
“You don’t want to drive to Marina Del Ray tonight,” Jack said.
“You can stay,” Scarlett said. “It’s no problem.”
"Great," JD said with a grin. "I don't know about anybody else, but I'm ready for that drink."
"Amen," Brooke said.
Jack made a beeline for the wet bar, took drink orders, and poured cocktails.
"This is a beautiful home," Brooke said to Scarlett.
"Thank you. So how did you get hooked up with these guys?"
Brooke looked at me.
"That's classified information,” I said.
Scarlett just rolled her eyes.
"If somebody comes around asking why your car was shot to pieces in the desert, you don't know anything."
Her eyes rounded. "How much trouble did you guys get in?”
I shrugged. "No more than usual."
Brooke borrowed my phone and called her mother. Holly was much relieved to hear her daughter’s voice. Brooke caught her up to speed on everything and said she’d see her tomorrow.
We enjoyed a drink or two on the deck, watching the lights of the city twinkle below. High above it all, you couldn't help but feel like you made it big. And Scarlett had.
In the morning, I called Special Agent Hawthorne and told him where I suspected Michelle Morgan's body was buried. He sent someone from the local field office out to Stillwater with ground-penetrating radar and detection dogs. By the end of the day, they had discovered Michelle’s remains.
At least it would give her mother closure.
I was glad I didn't have to break the news.
Hawthorne told me the DNA results had come back in the Molly Dean case. It turned out Nick Shaw was already in the database from a prior sexual assault charge when he was 19 years old. That case was dropped, but it made for an easy match.
The FBI had taken over all aspects of the case from the West Beverly Police Department after the scandal. A fingerprint on the gun that I pulled from the storm drain also matched Nick. The slugs matched Vivian.
Nick had shot and killed her. There was no doubt in my mind.
Hawthorne said they were about to pick him up. "If you want to tag along, I can try to get approval.”
“I would love that.”
“I’ll see what I can do. We wouldn’t have this perp if it weren’t for you two.”
He ended the call, and I dialed Joel. "I hate to tell you this, buddy, but Vivian helped Nick cover up a murder. Then he turned on her."
A grim sigh escaped his mouth. "Well, at least you got to the truth."
"Indeed."
"Listen, I’ve got meetings set up for you. Don't plan on going anywhere. I need you in Los Angeles for at least a couple of days.”
"Okay,” I said. It would give me a little extra time with Brooke. We certainly had a lot of fun last night.
Hawthorne called me back and said we were on. “You’ll have to sign waivers and all that crap.”
“Fine by me.”
Nick lived in the hills not too far from Scarlett.
We met Hawthorne and his team at Nick’s and hung back while they surrounded the property. At the gate, Hawthorne buzzed the intercom. Nick answered a moment later.
“FBI. We have a federal warrant. Open the gate now.”
“What’s this about?” Nick asked.
“You’re under arrest for the murder of Vivian Steele and Molly Dean. Open the gate and come out unarmed with your hands in the air. You have 30 seconds to comply.”
Special agents were ready to scale the fence if need be.
Someone had tipped off the media, and camera crews were there to catch the action.
Nick didn’t open the gate.
Hawthorne signaled to one of his guys. He scaled the fence and manually released the gate from the inside. The team flooded in, weapons drawn. They breached the front door when Nick didn’t answer.
The tac team stormed inside, and we watched from the driveway.
It didn’t take them long to yank the scumbag from the house. They perp-walked him down the driveway and made sure he got plenty of camera time. He kept his head down.
I smiled at Nick as he passed. “Great career move, Nick.”
Reporters shouted questions. “Why did you do it?”
The team stuffed him into a vehicle and took him in for processing.
Hawthorne addressed the media briefly, then thanked us again and shook our hands. “The media’s going to have a field day with this. I bet they make a movie about the son-of-a-bitch.”
“You might be right.”
We said our goodbyes, then drove back to Scarlett’s.
As promised, Jack took her to the West Beverly Porsche dealership and bought her a brand-new Macan GTS in Frozen Berry.
The color suited her perfectly. While we were there, a 911 convertible in Lugano Blue caught his eye.
It had chalk seats and was nicely optioned.
It wasn't an S or a GTS. Just the base model.
But it was more than enough. With a grin, he said to me, "How do you feel about a road trip back to Coconut Key? "
A road trip might just be the thing we needed—a few days on the highway, seeing the sights, taking it easy. How much trouble could we get in?
My phone buzzed with a call from Sheriff Daniels. "When in the hell are you two nitwits getting back here?"
"Why? What's the matter now?”
"Wait ‘til you get a load of this one.”