“Sure, why should I get your great mood all to myself?”
I hung up and dialed Toni’s extension, too tired to walk down the hall. No answer. I tried her cell.
“I’m still in court, believe it or not,” Toni replied. “Hang on.” I heard her whisper to someone nearby, then she came back on the line. “I’ll meet you downstairs in ten.”
My security detail, which was comprised of district attorney investigators, was waiting in Eric’s anteroom. DA investigators are basically cops who work exclusively for the DA’s office, and plenty of them used to work for police agencies. They handle specialized investigations and all security details. District Attorney Vanderhorn has investigators assigned to him as security on a full-time basis. That’s no easy job, because the biggest threat to his safety probably comes from those of us who work for him.
A well-built man with a crew cut and kind eyes stepped forward from the group and put out his hand. “Gary Schrader, senior investigator,” he said. “I’m the team leader.” He gestured to the three other men with him. All were wearing the navy-blue nylon DA investigator Windbreaker. Gary gave me a sympathetic look. “I was sorry to hear about the incident, Ms. Knight. But we plan to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
His manner was old-school, courtly and respectful yet warm. Though I’d grudgingly admitted I didn’t mind having security around, the idea of being followed 24-7 hadn’t exactly thrilled me. But now I felt not only well-protected but honored.
“Thank you,” I said, shaking his hand. “And please call me Rachel.”
He nodded. “Gary,” he said.
He turned to gesture behind him. “This is Stephen.” A stout young man with slicked-back brown hair gave a little wave. “James.” An impressively tall, fair blond with light eyebrows and eyelashes nodded. “And Mario.” A slim but muscular Latino with thick black hair and a sexy smile saluted me.
I shook hands with each of them. “I rate four investigators?”
“They’ll usually rotate in teams of two,” Gary said.
I told them my plans, and we all trooped out to the elevator. My own private retinue of navy-blue nylon Windbreakers and running shoes.
I found Toni already outside at the curb, and one of the investigators went to get his car while the other three waited with us. Toni looked from the investigators to me and nodded.
“Good,” she said.
Thirty seconds later, Bailey drove up, and Toni and I piled into her car. The investigator who’d gone to get his vehicle pulled up behind her, and one of the guys got into the passenger seat. The other two saluted and promised to see us tomorrow.
As we headed down Spring Street, Bailey said, “The Biltmore? Or somewhere else?”
“Let’s hit my room,” I said.
“Your room?” Toni echoed, looking puzzled.
My room was often the place where we eventually crashed, but it wasn’t usually our destination for evening entertainment.
“I’ll explain when we get there,” I promised. “Besides, I already told my dates”-I jerked my thumb at the investigators behind us-“that’s where I was going, and I’m trying to be cooperative.”
Toni and Bailey snorted almost simultaneously.
The DA investigators tailed us into the hotel and went to their posts in the hallway when we entered my room.
“How’d you wind up with protection?” Bailey asked.
As we took off our coats and dropped them on a chair, I explained how Eric had found out about the attack. “So you’re off the hook now,” I told her.
“I’m here for the duration. I don’t care how many of those guys are hanging around.”
I was too tired and frazzled to argue. I held up a bottle of wine and a chilled bottle of Russian Standard Platinum vodka.
Bailey picked up a barrel glass. “Vodka.”
“I think I’m in the mood for wine,” Toni said.
I opened the bottle and filled glasses for her and myself, and let Bailey do the honors with the vodka. “Want to order room service?”
“Not yet,” Bailey said. “At least, not for me.”
Toni shook her head. “I’ll take some snacks, though.”
I put out the nuts and pretzels, then sat down on the couch and held out my glass for a toast.
“To a terrific week,” I said sarcastically.
“It’s almost over,” Toni said. “I’ll drink to that.”
We all took a long sip.
“Now, what are we doing in your room?” Bailey asked.
I told them about Phil Hemet and his latest quest to trash me and all of Special Trials. When I finished, Toni was fuming. She poured herself another glass of wine and hunched over it, tapping one finger on the glass.
“You know what we need?” she asked.
“An unregistered gun?” I said helpfully.
Toni stared at me. “No,” she said. “Dirt. On Hemet.”
“That’s good too,” I said. I ran my hand through my hair and winced as I accidentally touched one of the many sore spots on my head. “But how?”
“Leave that to me,” Toni replied.
62
We never did make it out of my room. In fact, Toni never even made it home. She crashed on the couch.
The next morning dawned bright and sunny. I got up and felt the window. It seemed warmer today than it had been. Maybe that would help ease the aches and pains. I still felt like I was about ninety years old. I heard Bailey moving around in the other bedroom. Did I smell coffee?
I quickly showered and inventoried the damage to my face and torso. Better, though not good. But now some yellow was peeking through the purple. Progress. I threw on some jeans and a sweater. Well, not throw exactly. I inched my way into them. When I reached the living room, I saw there was indeed coffee. And pastries. And bagels. With Bailey for a roommate, I was going to wind up wearing bedspreads to court. I poured myself a cup of coffee and pulled off half a bagel.
Toni sat up, yawning, then sleepwalked to the bathroom. Two seconds later, the shower began to run.
“How you feeling, sunshine?” Bailey said, looking perfect in her brown pencil slacks and short boots.
“Better.” I took another sip of coffee. “Thanks for ordering.”
Bailey smirked, knowing I wasn’t entirely pleased with the selection. “Come on, it won’t kill you, and your security might put up with you longer if you give ’em a bear claw.”
“On second thought, pass me that Danish.”
She passed me the plate. “That’s the spirit,” she said.
I put most of the remaining pastries on a spare dish and stepped out into the hall. Gary was standing closest to the door, and I could see Mario at the end of the hall. I held out the plate to Gary.
“I thought we should all get fat together,” I joked.
“You have nothing to worry about, Rachel,” Gary said, taking the plate from me.
If someone else had said it, the line might’ve sounded a little bit lecherous. But Gary just made it sound reassuring.
“Your wife is probably the luckiest woman on earth,” I said.
“So I’ve been telling her for the past ten years,” he replied. “But feel free to call and back me up. A little corroboration never hurts.” He held up the plate. “And thank you for these. Mario’ll love it.”
“My pleasure.”
I went back into the room, picked up the remaining Danish, and took a big bite. It was fresh and delicious. “It’s time to hit up Lilah’s parents.” We’d been hoping to have enough information on her to keep them honest before we had the meeting, but it looked like we had all we were going to get.
Bailey nodded. “I know we’ve talked about it for a while,” she said. “But I’m not sure what we expect to get from them. They’re on her side. Even if they don’t know we’re looking at her possible involvement in Simon’s murder, they’ve got to know she’s flying under the radar and using an alias. I don’t see them helping us.”