Dawn Patrol

84

Johnny makes the Samoan gang bangers right away.

O'side-Samoan Lords-Tide's old crew.

Which is interesting, what the hell High Tide has to do with all this. Johnny fronts one of the kids. “Call your matai. Tell him Johnny B. wants to go through and he's not in the mood to take any shit.” The kid gets on the phone, talks in Samoan for a second, looks at Johnny with undisguised hostility, and says, “It's cool.”

“Thanks so much.”

Johnny walks down the pier, goes to Boone's cottage, and bangs on the door. “Boone, open the damn door! It's Johnny!”

Boone opens the door.

“You're a dick,” Johnny says.

“No argument.”

“You had a lot of people worried, Boone,” Johnny says. “I thought I was going to have to organize a paddle-out for you. You could have called your friends, let them know you're okay.”

“I'm okay.”

“Does Sunny know?” Johnny asks. “That she doesn't have to grieve for you?”

“She knows.”

“I guess Tide must have told her, huh?” Johnny says, gesturing generally to the gang bangers, who seem to have melted into the landscape.

“What do you mean?”

“The Samoan Lord bodyguards,” Johnny says.

“I thought they were Hawaiians,” Boone says, feeling stupid and ungrateful for thinking that Tide had sold him out.

“They all look alike to me, too,” Johnny says. “Can I come in, Boone? Or are you going to keep all your friends out in the cold?”

“You have a warrant?”

“Not yet,” Johnny says.

“Then I guess I'll stand out in the cold with you.”

“So you have Tammy Roddick,” Johnny says.

Boone doesn't answer.

“How did we end on different teams on this thing, B?” Johnny asks. “I don't think we have divergent interests here. You want Roddick to testify against Dan Silver in a civil suit tomorrow morning. The SDPD could care less. We just want to talk to her about Angela Hart's death. Hell, I'll walk her to the courtroom myself.”

“If she was still alive.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Boone hesitates.

“You got something on your mind,” says Johnny, “say it.”

“Dan Silver got the word pretty fast that it was Angela and not Tammy dead at the motel, Johnny,” Boone says. “I'm worried he got it from cops.”

“Fuck you, Boone.”

“I didn't say it was you, Johnny.”

“Fuck you, Boone,” Johnny says.

“Okay, fuck me.”

“You think it was Harrington?” asks Johnny. “He's a lot of things, but he's not dirty.”

Boone shrugs.

“Sanctimonious asshole,” Johnny says. “Only Boone Daniels knows the truth, because he walks on water.”

“Jesus, Johnny.”

“So to speak.”

“Can you protect her?” Boone asks.

“Can you?” Johnny asks. “I mean, you can in the short run, but what about after she testifies? Have you thought of that? You think Dan Silver's just going to forget she just cost him a pile of money? You're going to devote your life to protecting this girl?”

Boone's thought about it. It's a problem.

“It's an insurance company, Boone,” Johnny says. “They've got lots of jangle; they can afford to take a hit. Roddick was right to run. I only wish she'd run farther, because the company doesn't give a shit what happens to her after she lays it down for them, do they? Her only chance is if I put Dan in the hole, and that isn't going to happen on the arson charge. But if she's a witness on a capital case, I can protect her.”

“We each have jobs to do, Johnny.”

“So fuck Angela Hart, right?” Johnny says. “Tag it a suicide. Just another dead stripper. ‘No humans involved.’”

“She's not my job.”

“No, she's mine,” Johnny says. “Put your hands behind your back.”

“Really, Johnny?” Boone says.

“I have reason to believe that you are interfering with an ongoing investigation,” Johnny says. “I have reason to believe that you have knowledge material to at least one homicide investigation. I'll get the warrant to search your place, but in the meantime, I'm taking you in on a vandalism charge.”

“Vandalism?”

“Pushing your van through a municipal guardrail,” Johnny says. “Causing a fire on a public beach.”

Boone turns around and puts his hands behind his back. Johnny gets his handcuffs out.

“Cuffs, John?”

“Hey, you want to act like a skell…”

“Is there a problem, Officer?”

A woman comes to the door. Dressed, sort of, in Boone's clothes. Her hair is damp, as if she just came out of the shower. Johnny recognizes her as the woman Boone was with when he arrived at the Crest Motel, the woman who went over and looked at the body. Her accent is clearly English.

“Who are you?” Johnny asks.

“Petra Hall, attorney-at-law.”

Johnny laughs. “Boone's lawyer?”

“Among other things, yes.”

From the looks of her, Johnny has a good idea about what the “other things” are. It's unlike Boone to sleep with clients, but it's hard to blame him in this case. The woman is a stunner, and the voice and the accent are… Well, it's hard to blame him.

“Sorry, Boone,” she says now, “but I couldn't help but overhear a bit of your conversation. I don't know what you think you saw, Officer-”

“Detective,” Johnny says.

“Sorry, Detective, ” Petra says, “but I can assure you that Mr. Daniels was not on any beach tonight. I can… quite personally.. . vouch for the fact that he's been snug and warm right here all evening. As for removing Mr. Daniels in handcuffs, I can also assure you that my client will have nothing further to say, that, based on my representations, you no longer have a justification for detaining him, and that, if you do so, I will have a writ of habeas corpus awaiting you when you arrive at what I believe you refer to, somewhat quaintly, as ‘the house.’ Release my client, Detective, immediately.”

Johnny lowers the handcuffs and clips them back on his belt. “Hiding behind women, now, B?”

Boone turns around to look at him. “I've evolved.”

“Apparently,” Johnny says. He looks at Petra. “Tell your ‘client’ that I'll be back with the appropriate paper. Advise him not to go anywhere, Counselor, and I suggest you further advise him that he's risking his PI card with this bullshit. And on the topic of ‘cards,’ I'm sure you know that any attorney, as an officer of the court, who lies to the police in the course of an ongoing investigation-”

“I know the law, Detective.”

“So do I, Counselor, ” Johnny says. He looks at Boone, “I'll be back with a warrant.”

“You do what you have to do, Johnny.”

“Don't worry about that,” Johnny says. “I'm glad you're alive, Boone. But you're riding this one all wrong, selling out for an insurance company. It's turning you into a real jerk.”

He turns and walks down the pier.

Boone watches him go.

Wondering if he'll have any friends when this is over. This case is tearing The Dawn Patrol apart, Boone thinks, and he doesn't know if they'll ever be able to put it back together again.