Then Scotty disappeared.
A half minute after that, an alarm shrieked, and seconds later, the back door of the car opened and Scotty got in, saying, “Did you time me?”
Cruz laughed. “You were quick, yo. Like in those films where they stop time and the one guy runs between all those frozen people, you know?”
Del Rio said, “Let’s see how fast the cops answer the call.”
Four minutes later, the first sirens came up South Anderson and stopped out of sight. From the proximity of the squawking car radios, Del Rio figured they were outside the roll-up gates at the loading dock.
The three investigators ducked down in their seats, Del Rio assuring himself that so far no crime had been committed. Scotty had only rattled a window until the alarm went off. They waited for more cars to arrive, but only the two cruisers showed up.
When the cops had left, Del Rio and his team did the same thing: set off the alarm, then waited for the cops to come and leave again. Then they did it once more.
CHAPTER 90
Justine woke up to a racket.
Rocky was going nuts and bananas, barking, his toenails clacking as he got traction on the hardwood floors in his scramble toward the front door.
Justine looked at the clock. It was just before seven.
What the hell was this? In between Rocky’s barks, she heard her doorbell ringing insistently.
She threw a robe on over her silk PJs and walked to the foyer, thinking it had to be Jack. Who else would dare? She peeked through the peephole, then opened the door to Danny’s manager, Larry Schuster.
His clothes were rumpled, his patchy beard was coming in-in sum, he looked like he’d slept in his car.
“I’m sorry about the time, Dr. Smith. I have to talk to you.”
“Call me Justine. Did something happen to Danny?”
“No, he’s still in the hospital. I was driving around all night. I finally came to a decision.”
“Here’s an idea, Larry. I’ll be at the office at nine. Why don’t you meet me there?”
“This will only take a few minutes. Please. It’s important. I can’t take a chance that someone sees me and thinks I told you what I know.”
“You’ll never eat lunch in this town again?”
Schuster smiled. “Exactly.”
Justine told Schuster to come in. She led him to the kitchen, asked him to make coffee and to take a seat at the counter. She went to her bedroom and reappeared a few minutes later, dressed for work.
Justine took a carton of milk out of the fridge, then poured coffee into mugs.
“Sugar?”
“Yes, please.”
Justine put the sugar bowl next to the milk. She fed her cat and her dog and told Schuster to start talking.
“There were other girls.”
“There were other girls what?”
“Besides Katie Blackwell, three other girls in the past year threatened to sue Danny for unwanted, um, sexual contact.”
“Shit,” Justine said. “You should have told me this before I took the case, Larry. This is a contract breaker, as if we didn’t already have enough reason to tell you and Danny good luck without us.”
“Please don’t do that,” Larry said.
“I was a shrink in a mental hospital, did you know that?”
“Yes. That place in Santa Monica. Crossroads.”
“That’s right. So I know a thing or two about mental disorders. But the way Danny keeps fooling me makes me think he’s delusional. He believes his own stories.”
“No, he’s telling the truth. He was loyal to Piper. He didn’t have sex with those girls.”
“Then who did? This crap about someone else running his life could possibly get Danny some kind of insanity deal, but I wouldn’t count on it. You should prepare yourself. Danny is looking at prison for a very long time.”
“He didn’t molest those girls and he didn’t murder Piper either.”
“Larry, unless you say, ‘I know he didn’t do it, because I killed her,’ I’m not going to believe you.”
Schuster said nothing. He just stared at her.
“Did you kill Piper, Larry?”
“No. No. I’m sorry. I was just thinking whether it’s all right for me to tell you what I think-”
“Tell me, damn it. Or get the hell out of here and don’t ever call me again.”
“Alan Barstow.”
“Do not make me drag this out of you.”
“Alan Barstow paid off those other girls. And he tried to pay off Katie Blackwell. Alan stands to make many, many millions on Danny and will do whatever it takes to keep him as a client.”
“Why would he kill Piper? What’s his motive?”
“Piper didn’t like Alan. She was trying to get Danny to change agencies. If Piper got between Alan and Danny, Alan would have been dangerous. He’s a very scary dude. You should seriously check him out, Justine. I think you should put him on a skewer and fire up the grill.”
CHAPTER 91
Justine drove the car around the lake with the Vegas-style fountain set in front of the enormous black glass building in Century City. The Monolith, as it was called, was home to Creative Talent Management, the biggest, most influential talent agency in Hollywood. And the world.
Nora Cronin sat beside Justine in the passenger seat.
Early in the year, Justine had worked for the DA’s office to help the LAPD catch a spree killer who had been terrifying the city and running the cops into the weeds.
The Schoolgirl Killer had been Lieutenant Nora Cronin’s case, but despite her initial outrage that the DA had assigned Private to work with her, she and Justine had meshed brilliantly, as if they’d worked together for years.
Nora touched up her lipstick as Justine drove into the garage, took a ticket from the machine, then cruised around the subterranean car park that consumed more square footage than the town where she was born.
“You know what’s freaky? More money passes through this building than we spend annually on national defense.”
Nora was big, built like a tank, and she had a good, hearty laugh, which she let loose now.
“You’re too funny, Justine. Actually, I can’t wait to see the inside of this place.”
“Yeah?” Justine said. “I think we’re in for a real gladiator-style face-off with an egomaniacal, money-driven jerk who may also be a killer.”
“We might not be able to pull this off. I’m just preparing you. If he says to leave, we’ve got to go.”
“Come on, Nora. A cop and a shrink are going to tag-team him. He’ll talk. He’ll beg us to listen to him.”
Nora laughed again. “What a pair you have, Justine. Anyway, this place may be the colosseum, but we only have to take down one lion. Only one. Here, take this.”
Nora reached down to the floor, picked up a file, and passed it to Justine, who stashed it in her briefcase.
“Let me do the talking,” Justine said.
“Fine,” said Nora. “I’ll be your bodyguard.”
