“What’s there to talk about!” Grant screamed. “He’s gone! Just find him! Isn’t that your fucking job?!”
Decker kept his voice even. “If you all hadn’t disappeared in the first place, this might not have been necessary. If you want me to find your brother, let’s go into my office and you can tell me what happened. And if I find you credible, then I’ll think about an APB. Right now, buddy, from my standpoint, you look like suspect number one!”
The color drained from Grant’s face. “You think I hurt him?” Then his face turned crimson. “You think I’d hurt my own brother!”
Decker flung open the door to his office. “After you.”
Kaffey weighed his options, then stormed across the threshold of Decker’s office.
Score one for the lieutenant.
Decker closed his office door. “Did you call 911?”
“I called the police,” Grant said. “They told me that an adult missing for an hour wasn’t a crime. I tried to explain the situation, but the guy was an asshole.” He was pacing on whatever little floor space there was. “I hung up and came out here.”
“Where were you staying?”
“Somewhere in the Hollywood Hills. One of Gil’s buddies owns the place. He told my brother we could have it for the month.”
Decker said, “You drove all the way from Hollywood?”
“I was panicked! I didn’t want to stay alone in the house and I didn’t know what to do. You’re the enemy I know rather than the enemy I don’t know.”
“We’re on the same side, Mr. Kaffey. I need the address of the house.”
Grant was still pacing. “I don’t know it, but I could point out the house. It’s near a big street with lots of little cafés. Gil and I had dinner there last night.”
“Hillhurst?”
“Yeah, Hillhurst. Right.”
“Are you staying east or west of Hillhurst?”
“West…between Hillhurst and Tower.”
“Gower?”
“Yeah, Gower. If we ride down Hollywood, I could probably direct you.”
“How’d you find your way here?”
“I used the navigation system.” Grant stopped moving and regarded Decker. “We need to go now.”
“Where is Antoine Resseur?”
“Antoine?” Grant was confused. “At his apartment. Why? Where should he be?”
“I thought Gil was going to stay with Antoine Resseur. What changed his mind?”
“Resseur felt that Gil’s place and his place were targets. So Gil picked out another location. Why are you bringing up Antoine?”
“He’s missing. I was under the impression that he left with you two.”
“He did, but then he left and went back home, I thought.” A pause. “Do you think Antoine had something to do with it?”
Decker sidestepped the question. Resseur hadn’t been in his apartment for the last two days. That marked him as either a suspect or a scared man. “Do you know the name of the driver who took you to the house? We could call him and get the address.”
“No.” His face turned red with fury. “Why aren’t you making calls to your people?”
“To make calls to my people, I need an address. Hold on. Let me think.” Decker picked up the phone and called up the Hollywood station, asking for Detective Kutiel. It was a stroke of luck that his daughter was at her desk. “It’s your favorite Loo. I’ve got Grant Kaffey in my office. Apparently his brother is missing.”
“Not apparently!” Grant shouted. “He’s missing! Why don’t you believe me?”
Over the phone, Cindy said, “I heard that. How long has he been missing?”
“About an hour, maybe a little longer,” Decker said.
“An hour?” Cindy said. “Maybe he took a walk.”
“He just got out of the hospital, so I don’t think so. It could be that someone came by and picked him up-”
“Impossible!” Grant yelled.
“Picked him up to get away from his brother?” Cindy asked.
“The thought crossed my mind,” Decker told her. “Antoine Resseur-Gil’s ex-partner-has been missing since the shooting at the hospital. It could be the two of them ran away-”
“He didn’t run away with Antoine!” Kaffey interjected. “Someone fucking kidnapped him!”
“Hold on!” Decker covered the mouthpiece with his hand. “Excuse me while I finish up the conversation. I’m not cutting you off, but if you want help, we’ve got to get a plan going.” To Cindy he said, “The Kaffeys were staying in your territory. Somewhere between Gower and Hillhurst but I don’t know the address-”
“Beachwood!” Grant said triumphantly. “Is there a Beachwood street or boulevard?” When Decker nodded, he said, “We’re staying on Beachwood.”
Decker related the information to Cindy. “We’re on our way over. He can point out the house. Do you have time right now?”
“What do you want me to do? Hop in the car and hunt around the street?”
“That would be a start.”
“And what exactly am I looking for?”
“Start with Antoine Resseur’s car. It’s a 2006 red BMW 328i.” He gave her the license number. “If Gil was picked up by anyone, I’m betting it was him. Could be they just went out for lunch-”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Grant shouted. “Gil was in no shape to go out!”
“Why not?” Decker countered. “You two went out for dinner last night.”
“And it took me about twenty minutes of helping him in and out of a wheelchair. Besides, if he had gone out, he would have left me a note.”
Not if he wanted to get away from you. Out loud he said, “Is the wheelchair still in the house?”
He didn’t answer right away. “I don’t remember.”
Decker went back to the phone. “If you could put out a call to the cruisers to look for Resseur’s car, that would be helpful.”
“Not a problem. I’m just about done here anyway. I don’t mind driving around the area. It’s a good way for me to unwind and besides, Koby’s still working. Call me when you’re in the city, okay?”
“I will. Thank you, Detective.” He hung up. “Mr. Kaffey, think hard. Where might your brother have gone?”
He slumped into one of the chairs across from Decker’s desk. “I don’t know!”
“Have you called Neptune Brady yet?”
“No.” He hesitated a moment. “Honestly, I don’t trust him. At least you’re neutral.”
“How’d you get over here?”
“I drove. Gil had set up a rental at the house.”
“Gil set it up?”
“Maybe it was Antoine.” Grant flew from the chair and started to pace. “I don’t know! That’s why I’m here. Because I don’t fucking know!”
“Where’s your uncle?”
“Mace?” Grant made a face. “I don’t know. I thought he left to go home.”
“Was he well enough?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him. I don’t know if I trust him. I don’t know who to trust. I just want my brother to be okay.”
Tears in Grant’s eyes. His voice broke. “Can we go now?”
Decker picked up the car keys. He had more questions to ask, but he figured he could do that on the way to the house. Grant might be more amenable to talking then.
Nothing as sweet as a captive audience.
TWENTY-SIX
THE HOUSE THAT Grant pointed out was a 1960s modern perched on the crest of a mountain: low slung and built into the rocky crag. The exterior was glass, steel, and white stucco and was ringed with large camellia bushes in full pink bloom. Grant’s identification was confirmed when his key opened the door.
The first thing Decker noticed was a vertigo view of the entire L.A. basin. It was all glass with no seams, giving the space a greenhouse look. It was one story and sprawled from room to room: handy for someone who was wheelchair bound-as long as the person didn’t crash into the glass.
The wood floors were stained ebony but the rest of the house, including the vaulted ceilings and walls, were painted a deep taupe.