Emerald Buddha

Chapter 6

Drake hung up the phone as a low growl rumbled from the driveway in front of the house. Allie had been reluctant until he’d made her go to Facebook and look at the photo that had affected him so profoundly. She’d tried to explain that she was overwhelmed with the estate and the lawsuits, and that what he was asking would be a major disruption in her life.

“Allie, I know that, and I understand. But you’re the archeologist. I wouldn’t recognize a Khmer temple if it bit me. You’re the expert, not me. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important.”

“How do you know they aren’t BS-ing you about that part, just to give you a pretense for looking for the plane?”

“We’ll get a complete briefing tomorrow. If it sounds like an invention, we’ll bail. That simple.”

She had paused for several moments. “I think you’re kidding yourself if you believe anything involving… those guys… is ever simple.”

“Allie, I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them, but I verified the legend of the temple. It’s as solid, or more so, than the Paititi account, and we did pretty well on that.”

“If you don’t count getting kidnapped, almost killed a bunch of times, and losing my father.”

Drake had sighed. “I’m sorry I called, Allie. I… I just wanted you to be part of this. We worked really well together, and I can’t imagine going on another expedition without you.”

Her tone had softened. “Let me do some digging. I’ll call you later when I decide.”

“I miss you, Allie.”

“I miss you, too, Drake. It’s just that everything’s so complicated right now…”

“It doesn’t have to be. Between us.”

“Easy for you to say.”

That had been two hours ago, and Allie had just called back to say she reluctantly agreed and would be on the first flight out in the morning, arriving at nine at LAX.

“Take a charter flight, Allie,” he’d said. “I’ll have one waiting for whenever you want to take off. It’s on me.”

“If you think plying me with luxury is going to work, it might.”

“That’s my hope. I’ll arrange it and send you an email. You sure you don’t want to come out tonight?”

“It’ll be a miracle if I can get everything done by tomorrow. Have them at the airport at seven a.m. And if they have croissants and good coffee, that would definitely earn you some points.”

“I’ll ensure they do. As well as mimosas and anything else you want.”

“Coffee’s more than enough.” She paused. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m glad. Thanks, Allie. You won’t regret this.”

“So you say.”

The sound of a high-performance exhaust was unmistakable, and Drake approached the entry with puzzlement. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see a canary yellow Lamborghini Aventador LP 750-4 Superveloce parked in the driveway.

“What the hell…” he whispered to himself, and then the V-12 motor shut off and the driver’s door rose.

Spencer’s tanned face grinned at him as he climbed from the car. “Hey, buddy. How’s it hanging?”

“Spencer! Haven’t seen you for… forever. Is this yours?”

“Yup. Thought I’d take it for a spin up the coast. Trying to be low key and all.”

Drake eyed him skeptically. It was a little too coincidental that Spencer would appear out of nowhere minutes after the CIA departed. His suspicions about Spencer immediately returned, but he didn’t voice them. “How many tickets did you get? It looks like it’s breaking about a dozen laws just sitting there.”

“None today. But don’t ask how many I’ve had since I took delivery.” Spencer neared and gave Drake a slap on the shoulder. “What are you driving?”

“Oh, I’ve got a lifted FJ Cruiser. Not quite on par with the space shuttle here.”

“Probably gets better gas mileage, though.”

“Yeah, and I can occasionally hear the radio.”

Spencer took in the exterior of the bungalow and shook his head at Drake. “Didn’t anyone tell you that you’re rich?”

Drake shrugged. “What? It does the job. It’s just me, so what do I need with a castle?” He grinned. “You want the tour? It takes about ten seconds.”

“Sure.”

Drake led him inside, showed him around, and then offered him a drink. Spencer opted for a diet soda, and Drake a bottle of water. Spencer admired the view from the deck, and then caught sight of Kyra going into her house. When Drake arrived with the drinks, Spencer gave him a knowing look.

“I see why you like the place. Nice view, huh?” he said, a leer in his voice.

“Oh, that’s just Kyra. The neighbor.”

“Damn. I knew I lived in the wrong area.”

“What? Last time we talked you were in escrow on a house down in Corona del Mar, weren’t you?”

Spencer grimaced. “Laguna Beach.”

“Right. Oceanfront, ritzy neighborhood, new development, mega-expensive?”

“That’s the one. I closed a little over a month ago. I’m suing the developer. It’s a piece of crap.”

“What? How can it be crap for twenty million bucks?”

“Twenty-seven all in. The soil isn’t compacted correctly, the foundation’s cracking, the sheetrock is buckling — it’s a nightmare.”

“But you’ll get out of it, right?”

“Turns out half the other owners are also suing him.”

“Didn’t they have to disclose that?”

“Sure. They just didn’t. So now it’s up to the courts. And the prick countersued me for damaging his good name.”

“That’s a nuisance suit.”

“Turns out the developer knows some judges, because they froze a bunch of my money as potential damages.”

“But you have a ton left.”

“Yeah, but I have a big burn.” Spencer took a long pull on his soda. “Did I tell you I bought a plane?”

“No. What kind?”

“A jet.”

“What do you need a jet for? Why not just lease one or something?”

“To get to my boat.”

“You bought a boat, too?”

“Yup. That’s what rich guys are supposed to do, right?”

“I suppose…”

Spencer withdrew his phone from his pocket and thumbed through the menu until he had a photograph on the screen. He handed it to Drake, who whistled.

“Wow. That’s sick. How big is it?”

“Hundred and eighty. You and Allie should use it sometime. It’s in the Mediterranean right now, at a boatyard. They’re doing maintenance. I bought it from a sheik for a song.”

“What’s a song these days?”

“Thirty.”

“Million?”

“Actually more like thirty-five, with the work they’re doing.”

“Easy come…” Drake grinned. “Do I even want to know how much the plane cost?”

“I got it from the bank. The guy who’d owned it went bankrupt. Another land developer. Crooks, all of them.”

“So a good buy?”

“For a Gulfstream, sure.”

Drake’s mouth fell open. “You bought a Gulfstream?”

“I know. But it sold new for fifty-eight. I got it for thirty-five, three years old, only four hundred hours on it.”

“Kind of like a car, huh? Depreciates thirty percent when you drive it off the showroom floor?”

“A little like that.” Spencer set his can down. “The problem is that it’s eating me alive. The boat crew is about three quarters of a million a month, including the mooring cost and the maintenance. The jet costs three mil a year. And the attorneys are burning cash like it’s going out of style.”

“At least you still have most of your money. That’s not terrible. It’s rich-people problems.”

Spencer frowned. “Well… I invested most of it with a hedge fund. The other day I asked for fifty mil back, but they only allow redemptions once a year, and I just put it in last month.”

“Ouch. That’s a lot of money to tie up with one group.”

“I know. And the front page of the Wall Street Journal last week broke that they’re being investigated by the SEC and the Justice Department.”

“But your money’s still there, right?”

“Oh, sure. They just can’t give it to me for a year.”

Drake tilted his head. “Can you at least verify they have it?”

“Well, they said yes, but when I asked for proof, they started shuffling. All about how they don’t divulge trading positions because it could jeopardize their moves, and that a lot of it’s in currency and derivatives and hedges and credit default swaps…”

“I’m getting a headache.”

“Yup. I have another attorney clipping me for five hundred bucks an hour working on that one.”

“Yikes.”

“And then there are the other lawsuits. A guy I used to hang out with is suing because he says he had a deal with me that I reneged on. A woman claims I gave her an incurable social disease. Another claims she’s my common-law wife from Peru. The cockroaches come out of the woodwork.” Spencer sighed. “And to top it all off, my gardener claims he tripped on my stairs and wrenched his back. Of course that’s my fault. I’m liable. But he only wants five million.”

“That’s nuts.”

“Of course. But the point is, you’re a target. Haven’t you had any of that kind of thing?”

Drake shook his head. “Not really. I mean, my dough’s mostly in the foundation, so it’s technically not mine. And I keep a low profile. Nobody really knows who I am. The groundskeeper here thinks I’m a dope dealer or something, I’m sure, because I’m always either surfing or hanging out. I mean, the only one who knows anything about me is Kyra next door.”

“And you’re not tapping that?”

“No. I mean, she’s beautiful, but Allie and I…”

“What happened with her?”

Drake explained the situation as well as he could, and by the time he was done, Spencer was shaking his head. “Dude, that’s deader than Michael Jackson. Time to play house with Miss Hollywood there.”

“No, it isn’t. Allie just needs time.”

“How much?”

“She hasn’t said. But in the end, I think it’ll be worth it.”

“In the end, we’re all worm food. I say you go give blondie an oil massage and see what comes up.”

“She’s going to be here tomorrow, by the way.”

“Who? Allie? Or Kyra? Do you need a cameraman?”

“Allie. Your buddies in the CIA came by for a talk today,” Drake said, watching Spencer’s reaction carefully. Spencer appeared genuinely puzzled.

“Really? What did they want?”

“They said if I told anyone, they’d have to kill him.”

Spencer grinned. “At this point, I could use the life insurance payout. I’m broke, dude. That was actually one of the reasons I stopped in.”

“Not because you miss me?”

“Hey, of course, but I need time…” Spencer laughed. “Seriously, though, I could use a loan.”

“A loan? How much?”

“Enough to deal with the lawyers and all the bills.”

“Which is…?”

“Fifty?”

Drake’s eyes saucered. “Thousand?”

“I wish. No, million. That should last the year, until I can get the money back from the fund. It’s crazy, but I had more money before I had money. You know?”

“Why don’t you sell some stuff?”

Spencer began pacing. “I have both the plane and the boat up for sale already. The brokers were in shock — I mean, the ink’s hardly dry. But they’re probably used to it.”

“Then your problems are solved. Or will be soon.”

“Not really. Apparently there isn’t a big market for planes right now. It’s the economy.”

“So you lose some money. Big deal.”

“It’s not that. They already told me I’ll lose. It’s just that there are no buyers. Planes don’t sell like real estate. They said it could take a year or more.”

“And the boat?”

“Those take even longer. Every big boat in the world’s for sale.”

“What about chartering it out? That would cut your burn.”

“Right. Every other owner has the same idea. It’s a cutthroat market. But right now, between the suits, the repairs and maintenance, the airport fees, the salaries… it’s bad.”

“That sucks.”

“Three million a month, dude, and I’m not enjoying any of it.”

“I can’t believe…”

“Tell me about it. But apparently it’s easy to buy, and really hard to sell. Go figure. They’re brilliant at separating you from your money, but not so great at helping you unload your junk.”

“So why fifty? Adds up to more like thirty-five, doesn’t it?”

“Because the attorneys said it will get more expensive moving forward. It’s like a protection racket — pay up or else.” Spencer stopped moving and stared off into the distance at the shimmering blue Pacific. “You know I’m good for it.”

“The problem is I can’t just write a check, Spencer. It’s the foundation’s money, not mine. That’s how I got around the tax issue. But it has an independent board of directors I have to run projects over a million past before I can get any cash. It’s in the charter. So none of it’s simple.”

“How can that be? It’s your money, not theirs.”

“In the end I opted to keep only twenty out, and the rest is the foundation’s, Spence. Sorry.”

“How do they have it invested?”

Drake shrugged. “I think most of it’s in bonds or cash. And I know ten percent’s in gold. In Switzerland.”

“What? Don’t you know anything? The place to be is in stocks.”

“Nah. I don’t like the market. Too much I don’t understand about it, and my attorney told me never invest in anything you don’t understand.”

“What are you doing with the twenty?”

Drake finished his water. “I’m thinking about buying a house. I’m just leasing this. But that’s got to last me forever, Spence. I can’t get more out of the foundation.”

“Then I’m hosed.”

Drake grinned. “Hey. Wait. Allie and I are going on an expedition. There’s supposed to be a treasure at the end of it all.”

“What? Where?”

“Laos. Myanmar. Thailand.” Drake explained about the plane and the lost temple. When he was done, Spencer had fire in his eyes.

“Count me in. It’s either that or wait around for someone else to sue me. When do we leave?”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. You had me at treasure.”

“And you don’t mind the whole CIA aspect?”

“Nah. Why would I? Their intel helps us find the green gargoyle, I’m all for it.”

“Emerald Buddha.”

“Whatever. When does Allie come?”

“Tomorrow morning. I’m going to call these guys and set up a briefing.”

“I can help with the logistics. We’ll want guns, you know. That area is heroin central. Some mean characters.”

“You ever been there?”

“I spent a few months in Bangkok in my misspent youth.”

“What were you doing?”

“What wasn’t I?”

Drake moved to the phone, eyed the note he’d left by it, and dialed Collins’ number. When the CIA man answered, Drake told him he’d assembled a team that would be available for briefing at noon tomorrow. Collins sounded grudgingly grateful, and promised to have someone come by.

“Now let me get the permits in motion. It’ll take some doing, but we’ll manage. And Mr. Ramsey?” Collins asked.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. From me, and from the senator. You made the right decision.”

“I hope I feel that way next week.”

Drake disconnected and turned to Spencer. “I’m starving. Let me shower off and then let’s go for a ride in your land rocket. You can show me how to lose your license. We can hit a place I know on the coast for lunch, and then you can give me a tour of your new digs.”

Spencer tossed him the keys. “You drive.”