"Absolutely not!" he declared. "There were three of them at least. Four counting McLaughlin. That means we'd be outmannedno offenseand probably outgunned, too. This is way more than you and I can handle on our own."
"We call the cops then?"
"No," Dave said.
Ali was exasperated. "You mean we're just going to let them get away?"
"For right now," Dave answered. "If we've stumbled onto a big-time drug-smuggling program, you've got to understandthese people aren't to be trifled with. You try bluffing guys like that or crossing them, and they'll blow you away without a second thought. From the looks of it, this could be a very big operation, which means we're going to have to go higher up the food chain than the local LAPD cop shop."
"What do you mean?"
"Once I get back to the hotel, I'll call in the Marines."
"The Marines?" Ali repeated.
"One Marine in particularEzekiel Washington, if I can find him. Easy' for short," Dave added. "When he's not deployed with the reserves, he works for the DEA here in L.A. Once they get wind of this, they're going to want to take down the whole thingnot just Tracy McLaughlin and the guys loading the van."
They were on the 101 by then. For a while Ali drove in thoughtful silence. What Dave had said about drug dealers killing people without compunction had hit her hard. "Do you think my mother's somehow mixed up with this drug business?" she asked finally.
"She may have blundered into it the same way we did," Dave replied somberly.
Ali felt her stomach clutch. "We'll be lucky to see her alive, won't we?"
As the hours had worn on, Ali had managed to keep her worst fear at bay. Now, having spoken it aloud, she felt like she was drowning in self-reproach. Whatever befell Edie Larson would be all Ali's fault. If she hadn't let herself be bamboozled into marrying Paul Grayson in the first place, none of this would have happened. It was bad enough to learn that he'd been unfaithful to her. That much she had somehow suspected, and having it verified hadn't been all that much of a shock. But for him to have been involved in the drug trade, too? That was way beyond anything she had ever thought Paul capable of, but then she guessed she hadn't known him nearly as well as she thought she had.
But blaming herself and agonizing about her mother accomplished nothing. She forced herself to turn back to the McLaughlin interview.
"What about the Pink Swan?" she asked.
"If it's a topless place with illegal gambling and they don't do surveillance tapes, that means they appeal to a clientele with plenty to hide."
"It's also the place where Jake hosted Paul's bachelor party."
"I'll turn Easy on to that, too. But from the sound of it, the Pink Swan is probably already on the DEA's radar."
"And then there's Roseanne," Ali added thoughtfully. "I wonder about her."
"Maxwell's wife?"
Ali nodded. "If I didn't know what was going on, I wonder if Roseanne did."
"Too bad we don't know where to find her."
"Maybe somebody does," Ali said determinedly. She passed Dave her phone. "Punch the green button. That'll give you my list of made calls. Look for Helga Myerhoff."
"Your divorce lawyer?" Dave asked. "How come?"
"She specializes in high-profile divorce cases. If Roseanne and Jake are splitting the sheets, you can figure there's a lawyer involvedor a whole bevy of them. Helga's more likely than anyone else to know which ones."
Dave found the number, pressed it, and then handed the phone to Ali.
"I didn't know they were getting a divorce," Helga said, once Ali had said her piece. "But I can't say I'd be surprised."
"Because Jake's involved with another woman?" Ali asked.
"Because they're broke," Helga returned. "Relatively speaking, of course."
Jake Maxwell hadn't looked broke earlier that evening. Anything but.
"Even in somewhat straitened circumstances, however," Helga continued, "everyone I know would have been panting after Roseanne Maxwell and hoping to land her as a client."
"How can Jake Maxwell be broke?" Ali asked.
"Lost his job, bad investments, gambling?" Helga said. "Take your pick. There are lots of ways to go broke in this town."
"You're saying Jake lost his job?" Ali asked.
"You didn't know that? It happened several months ago nowsome kind of corporate job consolidation move. Paul and Jake ended up going head-to-head for the same job. Paul got the jobJake Maxwell got a golden handshake. That's why I was a little surprised when he showed up at court on Friday to be in Paul's corner, but then sometimes people turn out to be better than you think they are."
Or worse, Ali thought.
"Getting back to Roseanne," Helga finished. "I do have some connections. If she's holed up somewhere, someone I know will know where to find her."
"Thanks."
"Victor wanted you to call. Have you talked to him yet?"
"No."
"If you're driving all over hell and gone, you should probably let him know from you exactly what you're up to."
Ali knew what Victor would saystay put; don't talk to anyone; let the cops look for her mother.
"I'll call him," Ali agreed. Eventually.
Once off the phone, she recounted to Dave everything that had been said. "Makes sense," he said. "If Jake was needing to make some quick cash, someone may have made him an offer he couldn't refuse."
"But Paul wasn't broke," Ali returned. "Why would he be mixed up in it?"
Dave shook his head. "I have no idea."
By then they were pulling into the hotel entrance. "Do you want me to come up?" Dave asked.
"No," she said. "Dad and Chris will be here soon. I'm going to take a shower and put my feet up for a few minutes. I may even try closing my eyes."
"Good idea," Dave said. He hopped out of the Cayenne and headed for his own car.
Ali handed her car keys over to the parking valet and headed straight into the lobby. If there were reporters waiting there, she'd tough her way through them.
Opening the door to her room Ali hoped, through some miracle, Edie would be there waiting for her, but of course she wasn't. The room was emptydark and empty. Ali slipped off her shoes, sank onto the couch, and, as promised, rested her feet on the coffee table. She had spent the last hours busily doing somethingplaying detective and trying to find her mother. Now, in the quiet stillness, the awful reality began to sink in. Perhaps Edie really was lost to herlost to all of them. Perhaps there would be no more of Edie's steaming, soft-centered homemade sweet rolls at Sedona's Sugar Loaf Cafe. Perhaps Ali would never again sit over a hot cup of coffee, listening to and often disregarding her mother's good advice. Perhaps she would never again witness one of her parents' never-ending rounds of good-natured teasing.
It was that realizationthat losing her mother would be harder on Bob Larson than on anyone elsewhich finally goaded Ali to action. She picked up her computer and logged on.
CUTLOOSEBLOG.COM
Sunday, September 18, 2005
My mother is missing. Edie Darlene Larson, age 61, of Sedona, Arizona, disappeared from a hotel lobby in L.A. early this afternoon. She was last seen driving away from the Westwood Hotel on Wilshire in her white 2003 Oldsmobile Alero. Edie is five foot seven, has medium-length gray hair, fair skin, and weighs approximately 140 pounds. She also wears two hearing aids. (She'll kill me for printing that.) Anyone with information about Edie should contact LAPD's Missing Persons Unitand me!
Posted 10:23 P.M., September 18, 2005 by Babe
There was far more she wanted to say, would have said, but this was a case where less was more. She deliberately made no mention of Edie's encounter with Tracy McLaughlin. If, as Dave suspected, this whole thing was tied to a drug-smuggling ring, it was better to leave that out. Ali stripped off her clothes and was about to step into the shower when her cell phone rang. Grabbing it off the counter, she was amazed to see her mother's name in the caller ID readout.