royally pissed that one of his shops got busted and that he loses that income and has to spring for bail for an entire covey of young incompetents.
Letty del Rio knows that by the time she's back in her car gobbling Excedrin that Uncle Nguyen will be twanging people's wires. Letty del Rio is smart enough to know that Nguyen was not going to tell her word one. The purpose of her visit was to light a firecracker under his smug butt and then watch what happens.
Give him a headache for a change.
66
Jack pulls into the Monarch Bay Shopping Plaza and looks for a drugstore. There's only one, so it's easy, and a minute later he's at the pharmacist's counter.
'I'm here,' Jack says, 'to pick up a prescription for Pamela Vale?'
Asks this with a question mark at the end because that's the Southern California way of being polite while making a demand. Sort of an unspoken If it's okay with you.
'Are you a family member?' the pharmacist asks.
She's young and pretty and her shiny red hair looks great against her white lab coat. The tag on her chest says her name is Kelly.
'I'm kind of a personal assistant,' Jack says.
'Hold on,' Kelly says, and she consults the computer monitor behind the counter. Then she asks, 'Which prescription is it?'
'Sleeping pills?'
'Valium,' Kelly says. 'But that prescription has already been picked up.'
'Really?'
'Three days ago,' she says. 'And that was the last refill.'
'Whoops,' Jack says.
'Sorry,' Kelly says. 'Is she going to be pissed?'
'She's not going to be happy.'
Kelly gives him an empathetic frown, then asks, 'Has she tried melatonin?'
'What's that?'
'Over-the-counter. Puts you right out and it's totally natural.'
'Cool.'
'You should try it,' Kelly says.
'Me?'
'Sure.'
Jack shakes his head. 'I sleep like a baby.'
'That must be so cute.'
Then Kelly says, 'I don't want to bum you out, but I don't think you're her only personal assistant.'
'No?'
Kelly leans across the counter. 'The last guy was hunkier than you.'
'Uh-oh.'
'But not as good-looking.'
Which doesn't describe Nicky Vale, Jack thinks. Nicky Vale is a lot better-looking than me.
Kelly adds, 'Real big shoulders and he wore this dorky Hawaiian shirt? The kind you get at, like, every store in Catalina? He looked like a florist shop with hair. Had a foreign accent.'
'What kind of accent?'
Kelly asks, 'Do you watch the Cartoon Network?'
'I think it's on when I work.'
'No, it's on twenty-four hours.'
'Okay.'
'Anyway,' Kelly says. 'On the Cartoon Network they have this show? Rocky and Bullwinkle?'
'It was on when I was a kid,' Jack says.
'Really?'
'Yup.'
'So you know the two bad guys?' Kelly asks. 'Boris and Natasha? They always wear black and he has this stiff little mustache?'
'Uh-huh.'
'That's what the guy talked like. Like, Oooh, I'm going to get that moose and squirrel. Like that.'
'That's a pretty good imitation.'
'Thank you.'
Jack says, 'Well, I'd better get going.'
Kelly shrugs.
Like, whatever.
Like, personal assistants come in here all the time.
67
The Mustang can move.
It ain't Nicky's Porsche, of course, but then again you ain't gonna be doing a hundred and forty on the PCH either. Not on the stretch between Monarch Bay and Dana Point, so the classic '66 is doing just fine, thank you.
See, what Jack does is he drives down to Monarch Bay, ignores the guard and does a U-turn at the gate. Comes to a complete stop.
He checks his watch.
Says, 'Go.'
Stomps on the gas pedal and leaves a satisfying streak of rubber behind him. Pulls out on the PCH, takes a right and heads south toward Dana Point. Hits the red light at Ritz-Carlton Drive (fuck you, Ritz-Carlton, you get your own friggin' traffic signal), then stomps on it again. Makes it clear down to where the PCH South splits and becomes Del Prado, and turns right on Blue Lantern. Takes Blue Lantern to the top of Harbor Drive and takes another right and bingo, he's at the Vale driveway, 37 Bluffside Drive.
Eight minutes, fifteen seconds.
Jack sits back and takes a little breather.
'Go.'
The reverse route. Left onto Harbor. Left on Blue Lantern. Wait for the light and then left onto the PCH. A straight shot back to the gate.
Nine minutes flat.
The guard comes out of the kiosk this time.
'May I help you, sir?' is what he says. What he means is What the fuck do you think you're doing?
'Maybe,' Jack says. 'Hi, I'm Jack Wade, California Fire and Life.'
'Mike Derochik.'
'Mike,' Jack asks, 'were you on duty last Wednesday night?'
'I came on at midnight,' the guard says.
'Did Mr. Vale go out at anytime during the night?'
The guard says, 'We don't discuss the comings and goings of our residents.'
Jack hands him his card.
'If Mr. Vale came out of here during those hours,' Jack says, 'it was probably to kill his wife. You probably
