right?'
'Yeah.'
'You ever hear of a record company called Chronic Inc.?'
'It's not a record company. It's a management company like Rush Management, or one of those.'
'They have any hot acts? Somebody named Curtis?'
'Curtis Clark. He's big. Does mostly West Coast rap, but years ago he started out doing some very badass street underground. He records for Lethal Force.'
'Maluga's company.'
'Yeah, but according to the music mags, they're having a feud. Nobody knows what it's about. They got in a screaming match at the Source Awards in Miami when Floor Score won Best New Artist.'
I turned to face him. 'Floor Score is a band?'
This hit me out of nowhere. I must have looked stunned or my mouth had fallen open, because Chooch said:
'You okay?'
'Yeah… Tell me about Floor Score. I thought it was'a sex act.'
'Technically, it's street slang for drugs you find on the ground,' he said. 'Curtis Clark is the lead guy the front man.'
'What's WYD?'
'WYD stands for Who's Your Daddy. They're a huge label. Lionel Wright owns it. He's also their biggest star. Lionel records under the name Bust A Cap.'
My excitement was growing. This was a whole new direction.
'Lionel Wright is the brains behind WYD and he's a marketing genius,' Chooch continued. 'Besides his rap songs, he's got a Bust A Cap clothing line and Bust A Cap hair products. He's kinda like Sean 'Puffy' Combs. Used to be that Lionel was only in magazines like Rap World and Street Beat. Now he's in every other issue of People. He and WYD have been pirating acts away from Lethal Force.'
'Acts like Curtis Clark and Floor Score,' I muttered, remembering the conversation I'd overheard earlier in the Chronic Inc. office. 'Ever heard of a group called Motel Crypto or Four-Fifty-Seven?' I asked, remembering those names from Alexa's e-mails.
'Crypto Four-Fifty-Seven is a rap group that just left Lethal Force,' Chooch said. 'Everybody's leaving the Malugas because they're still a Compton-style gangsta rap company. Now that Maluga is out of jail, he's back to threatening everybody, trying to get his old acts back and hanging on to the ones he still has like Floor Score.' He looked closer at me. 'I thought you hated this kinda music. Why are you interested in all this?'
'Just am,' I said. 'I'll call and check in every couple of hours. I'm sorry I can't be in there with you.'
He smiled. 'I'll watch over Mom. You go find out who killed David Slade.'
'Deal.'
He started to get out of the car but I had one last thought and stopped him by saying, 'Hey, Chooch, you still got your laptop in here?'
He nodded, opened the back, rummaged under his seat, then pulled it out and handed it to me. 'You might have to use the lighter plug. I don't know how much charge is left.'
'Thanks,' I said, and hugged him.
I sat in the Jeep and watched him walk back into the hospital. Then I headed back to the Valley. I'd stupidly left Alexa's computer in the Acura and I needed to retrieve it.
All the way over the hill, I kept turning this new information over in my mind.
There were still a few things that didn't fit, but in my mind the accounting had just changed, and a few things were finally beginning to add up. There had been a mistake in my original tabulation. I should have known to trust in Alexa no matter what. The error my mistrust had produced was hiding a larger truth, and that truth just might exonerate her.
Chapter 33
I was parked in Dupar's lot with Alexa's computer resting on my lap. I left the material on her computer, but made a DVD copy and transferred the information to a blind file on Chooch's laptop. After I finished, I picked up my cell phone and scrolled through the contacts to find Figueroa's number. It was almost midnight, but I dialed him anyway.
'Yeah?' his sleepy voice mumbled after the second ring.
'It's Shane.'
There was a long pause before he said, 'Okay.'
'I need to see you and Tommy tonight.'
'Meet you at our office on the fifth floor of the Police Administration Building,' he said. 'We can be there in an hour.'
'All good, except for the part about meeting at the PAB.'
'Shane, we're not meeting you any place but Parker Center.'
'I've got Alexa's computer. There's some interesting stuff on it you might wanta hear about.'
The mouthpiece of the phone was suddenly covered by his hand and I heard his muffled voice say, 'Go back to sleep, Rachel. I got it.'
When he came back on the line he said, 'Just a minute.' Then I was on hold. A few seconds later, he was back. 'Hadda change phones, sorry.'
'Rafie, I can't take a chance, going down to Parker Center. I might not walk out of there. If you guys want this computer, meet me at the Greek Theatre in an hour.'
'The Greek? You're kidding me.'
'You remember Sergeant Loveboy from Valley Vice?'
'Big fat guy. Retired.'
'That's him. He's the plastic badge at the Greek now. He'll let you in.'
'What's going on, Shane?'
'Tell ya when I see ya.' Then I hung up. I left my Acura at Dupar's and put the Jeep in gear, pulling out of the parking lot.
The Greek Theatre sits in a small canyon off North Vermont Avenue in Griffith Park. Once, about three years ago, in an attempt to add culture to my life, Alexa had dragged me to a summer concert of Classics. While the rest of the audience was listening to Tchaikovsky and Mozart, my mind wandered and I found myself studying the layout. The amphitheater was nestled in the hills, surrounded on all sides by forest. I realized it would be possible to get in and out of this place by coming down from the fire road on the hillside above the canyon. I put the amphitheater on my list of possible spots for a clandestine meet. This location became even more attractive two years ago when my old Valley Watch Commander pulled the pin and became a night security guard at the amphitheater. Sgt. Dorsey Loveboy was a fat, loose-jointed guy who looked as if his shirt was always untucked even when he was standing a dress inspection. But we'd had a good relationship, which I was now planning to take advantage of.
I pulled up North Vermont Avenue and stopped about fifty feet back from his post. I blinked my lights twice to wake him if he was dozing, then I pulled up and watched as he stood up from the swivel chair in the guard shack and looked out at me. He was wearing an oversized Romark Security uniform designed to resemble LAPD blue. He leaned down and looked into the driver's side window of the Cherokee. I saw a slight smile cross his lips.
'Scully. Still on the right side of the dirt, I see. Musta got a lot quicker than before.'
'How you been, Sarge?'
He leaned in closer and said, 'I'm real sorry about your old lady, Shane. Never really knew the lieutenant, but the word I got is she's good people.'
'Thanks.'
There was a pause, then he said, 'From what I've been hearing on TV, this can't be a social call.'
I nodded and said, 'I need to use this place tonight. Can you pop the back lock on E-gate for me, leave this gate open for some friends of mine?'
