Private: #1 Suspect

CHAPTER 22

Cruz and Del Rio were in Del Rio’s office, working their case, comparing the phone calls Maurice Bingham had made from his cell phone with the list of escort services in the Beverly Hills yellow pages.

“I had a girlfriend once who was an escort,” Del Rio told Cruz.

Cruz said, “This I’ve got to hear.” He moved his chair to Del Rio’s side of the desk so he could see the computer screen.

“I signed up for the ‘special-gift daddy’ section,” Del Rio said. “ ‘Special-gift girls’ want a hookup with one guy until they earn enough from him to buy this so-called gift.

“Her name was Chelsea,” Del Rio went on. “Very pretty, very smart. On her way to becoming somebody in the fashion business when a friend of hers told her she could make a bundle being an escort. That she could make enough to get her business off the ground.”

“When was this? Before or after you got out of the joint?” Cruz asked.

Cruz was a good-looking guy of twenty-seven. Dark hair pulled back in a short ponytail. Clean shaven, dressed in black. Former middleweight boxer. Former cop and investigator for the DA. Currently a senior investigator on the fast track at Private.

“After. I was so starved for a woman by that time, I can’t tell you. A kiss could send me to the moon,” Del Rio said.

“Here’s our match,” said Cruz, pointing to the number on the screen. “Bingham called an escort service called Phi Beta Girls.”

Del Rio tapped the name of the escort service into his browser, and a website filled the screen.

Cruz read the sales pitch at the top out loud: “‘Beautiful girls of every ethnicity. Not just beautiful but very intelligent,’ blah, blah. ‘Each one loves her work as an escort,’ har-har. ‘Matched by our placement experts.’ Oh, sure. Matched to your credit card, more like it.”

Del Rio said, “Chelsea wanted implants, so, you know, took about three dates for her to pay for those, and then she wanted another ‘special gift.’ She wanted a car. I didn’t have a spare fifty grand, so Chelsea dumped me for a gift daddy who owned a luxury-car dealership. Now she drives around town in a Bentley.”

Cruz laughed. “Not bad for a few hours’ work.”

“You woulda thought my looks and my fine skills in the rack would’ve meant something to her,” Del Rio said. “I was a definite keeper.”

“You’re not still hooked on this girl?” Cruz asked.

“Yeah. She was the love of my life,” Del Rio said. “I’m kidding, you jackass. Chelsea was a ho.” He laughed and turned his attention back to the screen. “Okay, Phi Beta lists about a hundred escorts. Look at these girls. Jessie. Six hundred an hour. Two-hour minimum. Three grand for an overnight. ‘Diana, Playboy Bunny, a known celebrity…’ ”

“Here’s Phi Beta’s address,” said Cruz. “Let’s take a ride.”