“That’s what you want to talk to me about?”
“The defense said you guys did it,” I said. “Part of the whole war you had going with the Glendale PD.” I stopped and watched his reaction.
“I did hear something like that, now you mention it,” he said with little inflection.
He gave no indication of any concern, and his answer made it clear that he wasn’t going to give up one more word than he had to-the cagey type. Or the type who’d learned from his previous encounters with law enforcement.
“There’re some in your crowd who say it’s true,” I remarked.
Dominic didn’t answer immediately. He looked at me impassively.
“From what I remember, that case was over a while ago,” he said, looking at me through hooded eyes. “So I’m gonna guess that you’re here about something else.”
“We are,” I replied.
“Then shouldn’t you be reading me my rights?”
“You’re not in custody,” I said. “And you can refuse to talk, but we’re not looking at any group…activity you need to be concerned about.”
Though I wasn’t entirely sure PEN1 hadn’t done Zack’s murder, I tended to agree with Larry that a gang hit didn’t fit with the nature of the crime. And there was no reason to believe that Lilah’s protection was a gang priority. So if one of these guys was helping her and had killed Simon in the process, it was likely a private arrangement. But private or no, any PEN1 member would be foolish not to get Dominic’s approval before taking the job. It wouldn’t be good for the guy’s health to look like he was sneaking around, doing private money gigs on the side.
Dominic peered out the window again for a few moments, then turned back to me and stared straight into my eyes.
“Go ahead,” he finally said.
“Did PEN1 do Zack?” I asked.
Dominic shook his head once. “No.”
“You’re sure?” I asked, though I knew the answer.
“No one makes a move that big without my approval,” he replied flatly, as though I’d asked whether the sun always rose in the east. Then, as if reading from a script, he calmly added, “Not that I’d ever approve an act of violence.”
“No, of course not,” I said.
He continued, “Anyways-”
“Anyway,” I corrected. I could feel Bailey mentally rolling her eyes and telling me to shut up, but I couldn’t help it. I never can. Shit like this drives me nuts.
Dominic looked at me, perplexed, but obediently repeated, “Anyway…doing a cop in his own home is just plain stupid.”
“Then why’d some of your people seem to think it was PEN1 business?” I asked, bluffing a little.
“’Cause some of our people are dipshits who like to act tough and don’t have the brains God gave a kickstand.”
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
“You or any other PEN1 member ever have any dealings with Lilah Bayer?” I asked.
“That the wife?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious.
“Right.”
He frowned, then gave me a puzzled look. “Why would we?”
“Does that mean no?” I asked.
Dominic sighed. “Lawyers,” he said, shaking his head. “Yeah, that means no.”
I was out of questions. I looked over at Bailey, who shook her head.
“Thanks for your time, Dominic,” I said.
I stood as quickly as I could, subtly using the arm of the sofa to push myself up. At least I’d thought it was subtle.
“What happened to you?” Dominic asked.
Oh well.
“Nothing,” I said, trying not to grimace as I turned my head.
He nodded sagely. “Ice’ll help that nothing,” he said. “Or a cold gel pack.”
“Thanks.”
We were escorted out to the car and followed by our two guards until the gates closed behind us.
We stopped for a red light at the intersection on Mulholland. A biker on a Harley in leather chaps with a baby carrier strapped to his chest rode by, heading for the ocean. A tiny white poodle was snuggled happily into the baby carrier, its ears flying in the wind. Poodle was going to the beach with Biker. At least it wasn’t in someone’s purse, dressed up like a ballerina.
We drove in silence until Bailey got to the freeway on-ramp. The traffic was starting to back up with lunchtime travelers.
“We had to check it out, but I’m just not feeling this whole Lilah-skinhead connection,” she said.
I nodded. “But it was worth it to make all those fun new friends.”
“You still think it might’ve been one of those fun friends who jumped you?” Bailey asked.
“No,” I replied with certainty.
I’d given this a lot of thought since we left the compound.
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because I just remembered one very salient point,” I said. “That guy didn’t just take my wallet. He also took the photo-the one of the stabber.”
“Shit,” Bailey said softly.
My sentiments exactly.
60
Lilah gestured to Maxwell Chevorin to have a seat on the couch. “I’m having green tea. Can I get you anything?”
“That sounds good,” the lobbyist replied. He watched her move to the kitchenette, enjoying the view. It was a nice perk.
Maxwell once again congratulated himself on his luck, and his instinct. His luck, because it’d given him state senator William Sharder for a buddy. His instinct, because when Sharder confided that Lilah’d blackmailed him into getting her a junior associate position with his law firm, it’d told him that she was cut out for this line of work. So when she was acquitted of her husband’s murder, he’d recognized the golden opportunity and immediately made her an offer. Personally, he’d never believed she was guilty, but it wouldn’t have mattered if she had been. If anything, that would only have made her more attractive to him. Someone smart enough to get away with murder was someone he could use. The lobbyist had never feared for his own safety. He understood Lilah. She needed him as much as he needed her. She was, in some respects, his female counterpart: ruthless, brilliant, and obsessive.
Lilah set down two big-handled mugs and sat in a chair across the coffee table from him.
“The CEO job is largely completed,” she said. “I just want to take a few more days to make sure we’ve bled every source dry.” Which was why she hadn’t wanted to take this meeting today. But Chevorin had been insistent. Not that she blamed him-she probably would’ve felt the same in his position. Since they only communicated about cases in person, he had no other way of knowing whether they’d made any progress.
“Here’s where we stand right now.” Lilah described what they’d found on the CEO but didn’t tell him about the bonus dirt they’d dug up on the CEO’s “fixer.” She intended to keep the fixer for herself. He was worth much more than the lobbyist would ever pay.
At the other end of the spectrum, she’d also caught a minnow in her net. The bookkeeper of the company, a devoted family man with two daughters, was apparently engaged in a very lusty affair. Along with dozens of steamy love letters, Chase had found a photograph of the man’s paramour: a well-endowed twentysomething young man dressed only in a bolo tie and cowboy boots, signed, “All my love, Bryce.” Lilah had taken all the letters and the photograph and personally shredded every single item, then fired off an anonymous letter to the bookkeeper, warning him to cover his tracks better in the future. She had no use for him, so why bother to ruin him?
“Amazing,” Chevorin said with undisguised admiration. “Can you deliver the final package by next week?”
“I’ll call you.” Lilah stood, indicating the meeting was at an end.
After the lobbyist was gone, she summoned Chase and told him to get there immediately. She needed an update of her own and was hoping it’d be as good as the one she’d just given the lobbyist. It wasn’t.