all his old drug connections. Then Nicky introduces Farrell to Dennis Valentine, who is setting up shop in L. A. Valentine would want to control the drug trade, so he pays for the product and gets rid of Stone, which allows him to organize the Crips and Bloods to distribute it for him. I think Nicky put the two guys he despised most in the world into the same doomed drug deal and intends to push the whole burning mess over a cliff.' Shane asked the chief if the two undercover cops he'd left at Valentine's were still following the Mexican in the white Caddy.
'No,' Filosiani said sourly. 'I was frustrated with all the money we were spending. The prints hadn't come back yet, so I pulled the surveillance.'
The chief was angry at himself and biting his lip, so Shane pushed past that and continued: 'Nicky's got all these people heading to the same place in Arizona. Crips, Bloods, La Eme, and mobsters. He times it and dimes it. Everybody arrives out in the desert at the same time, loaded with rage, testosterone, and automatic weapons. When they get there they run into a wall of cops instead. It's a recipe for a bloodbath.'
The chief rubbed his forehead. He looked like he was actually in pain. 'That's a lot of ifs, buts, and maybes,' Filosiani finally said.
'I know. But it sorta fits all the facts. I might have one or two pieces out of place, but if I were you, I'd get in touch with your friend at the FBI… see if any of the local feds knows what happened to Farrell. If he's one of WIT- SEC's assets, they probably have some kind of ongoing surveillance on him. Nora says he's missing. I'm not so sure. Whatever happened to him, I'll bet he turns up in the Arizona desert.'
Tony sat quietly in the metal chair, rolling the cold can of beer across his forehead. 'Shit. I'm so tired I could fall asleep getting a blow job.'
'I'm not too interested in watching that,' Shane moaned.
Twenty minutes later Alexa showed up with Nora. Her former baby-sitter's face was streaked with tears. Nora told them that Farrell had been doing his evening swim out in the ocean and that she watched through binoculars as a boatful of young Hispanic-looking men motored up, then forced him to get inside.
'You're sure he was forced?' Shane asked.
'He had to be,' Nora said, breaking into tears again. 'He isn't capable of leaving without telling me. He knows how terrified I'd be.'
Alexa squeezed Nora's hand, but Shane wondered if Nora had any idea what Farrell Champion was really capable of.
Chapter 43
Chooch called to say he was on his way home, so Tony took Nora back to Malibu while Shane and Alexa waited.
An hour later his son walked into the kitchen through the back door, looking tired and dispirited as he slumped down in a chair at the kitchen table and shoved his hands deep into his pants pockets.
'Dad, she doesn't even know I'm there,' he said. 'She looks right through me. The doctors say it's part of the PTSD, but I'm worried. She's not getting any better.'
'Honey, you can't hope for too much, too soon,' Alexa counseled.
'I don't know what else to do.' Chooch's voice was so low, Shane had to lean forward to hear him.
'You want me to call and talk to the psychiatrist?' Shane offered.
'No. Dr. Sloan's been great. She said exactly what Mom just said… that it's going to take time. But I can't stand to see Delfina that way. It's killing me.' Chooch told them he was going to spend the night at home, then go back first thing in the morning. He got up and headed toward his room to take a shower.
Shane and Alexa remained in the kitchen, looking after him.
'Hard lessons,' Alexa finally said.
Shane nodded. 'Life can be a bitch.'
'I've got to get back to the office. I'm running a briefing at nine A. M. SO I'll probably sleep down there.'
Shane reached out and took her hand. 'No, you will not,' he said. 'You're going to leave it alone for eight hours and sleep right here, in our bed, with me.'
She looked at him for a long moment. 'God, wouldn't that be great for a change?'
'You're not leaving. You can't be much help down there, half-conscious like you are. I'll set the alarm for six.'
So they had a scotch in the backyard and watched the moonlight ripple on the still canal. Then they got up and went inside to their bedroom.
Shane watched from the bed as she undressed, marveling again at how blessed he'd been to win her. His early life as a child had been so filled with disappointment and darkness, maybe the Grand Pooh-Bah of Karma had decided he was finally due for a psychic paycheck. God knows, Alexa and Chooch had more than balanced the scale.
She turned and caught him looking at her. 'Whatta you leering at, buddy?' She smiled.
'Just checkin' out your booty,' Shane admitted, then he reached out and she came to him.
They made love for almost an hour. Afterward they lay in each other's arms. He kissed her and felt her heart beating against his chest. Finally they both found comfort in sleep.
When he awoke the next morning, it was eight A. M. He had not heard the alarm ring, and after he checked, he discovered that Alexa and Chooch had already left the house. He showered, dressed, then drove down to Parker Center. Alexa's Crown Vic was in her assigned space. The hood was already cold, so she'd been there for hours.
By nine-thirty he was standing with Lee Fineburg in the Records Services Division, watching the wiry geek make notes while he talked.
'My target's name is Nicholas Marcella. He has an apartment at the Hollywood Towers, but he's gone. I think he may be with his married sister, but I don't have a clue what her first or last name is. They were both originally from Teaneck, New Jersey.'
Lee finished writing all of this down, then, without speaking, spun toward his computer and went to work.
First he tried the New Jersey DMV. There were twenty Marcellas listed in Teaneck, ten more in the burbs. Twelve were women, so he wrote their names down.
Next he searched the L. A. County Marriage Records database looking for women with one of those maiden names. He found one match: Elizabeth Marcella.
Fineburg studied the information on the screen. He found that Elizabeth Marcella had been wed on June 12, 1998, to Lawrence 'Butch' Finta.
'I think I found her,' the computer geek said. 'Her married name is Elizabeth Finta.' Then he went to the Unified Phone Listings, punched in the name Lawrence Finta, and presto… out came the address: 2358 Coast Highway, Torrance, California.
The guy was a magician.
The house was on the corner of PCH and Higuera, two blocks from the ocean. Shane parked a short distance up the street and took stock of the place. Butch and Elizabeth Finta weren't spending much time or money on maintenance. The yard was overgrown, the house needed paint, and there was an old, slant-nose silver van parked in the driveway, which looked like a giant rusting suppository.
Shane decided that the best and quickest way was the most direct. Since he could probably run little Nicky down in a footrace, he got out of the car and walked to the front door. Shane tried to peek in a window, but the shades were drawn. He knocked, and after a minute heard Nicky calling through the door, 'Go away!'
Shane pitched his voice an octave higher. 'UPS, I need a signature!'
The door opened and, for a moment, Nicky Marcella was standing there, looking ridiculous in tennis shorts and a green Hawaiian shirt with huge red and yellow flowers. But this riotous vision was only temporary because Nicky immediately spun and bolted through the house.
Shane shot after him and almost caught him in the first five steps-reached out and missed by inches, coming
