Talk about the money shot.
Aaron framed it mentally like the prize photo it was, even as he experienced it.
Mason Book shuffling down Swallowsong Lane, arm in arm with an “unnamed companion.” Not a paparazzo in sight.
How much could I sell this to the tabs for?
Book stumbled.
“Easy, Mason.”
Unnamed black companion. No doubt they'd assume he was a bodyguard, maybe with an ominous past.
Aaron could live with that.
Book didn't fuss as Aaron put him in the Opel's passenger seat.
Muttering, “Nice wheels. They driving this in Heaven?” and promptly falling asleep.
Aaron poked him to make sure he wasn't faking, then belted him in. Fishing out the plastic wrist ties, he used three: linking both of Book's hands together, then tying the right loop to the lap belt. No big deal freeing the belt, but in the actor's current mental and physical state, the setup was as good as a steel cage.
Now, where to take him?
Slipping the key into the ignition, Aaron remembered the three missed calls, checked his cell.
A trio of texts from Liana-one text, actually, repeated three times. relbl source: riptide adlla w dmnts never bk
Now he knew where he had to take his new pal.
Moe got the call as he and Petra were finishing coffee and eggs at a Denny's near Hollywood Station. Raymond Wohr was stashed in a solitary cell having downed a repast of donuts and Hershey bars and Mountain Dew.
Aaron said, “Working late, Moses. I figured I'd get your machine.”
“Busy night.”
“It's going to get busier. I've got someone you'll want to meet.”
“Who's that?”
Aaron told him.
Moe said, “Did you do something illegal that's going to screw us over?”
“Me? I've been an angel.”
Moe and Petra showed up at Aaron's office thirty-five minutes later. Mason Book was still totally out of it, napping peacefully under a down-filled Frette duvet, in the guest room that rarely saw action. The plastic ties remained in place, the right one now circling a stout, brass bedpost.
The actor had snoozed through everything, not even stirring when Aaron slung him over his shoulder and hauled him up the stairs. Book had stayed so inert that Aaron checked his breathing a couple of times. Nice and steady, good strong pulse. The second time Aaron poked him, Book's eyes opened and he smiled like a happy kid and went under again.
Some of that was probably post-adrenaline letdown, but Aaron figured a blood test would reveal all sorts of interesting biochemistry. No doubt some defense attorney would pounce on that and try to invalidate the tape. Now transferred to one of Aaron's computers and copied to a disk locked in Aaron's business safe.
Book had to be kept under wraps until his body fluids turned pristine. Aaron had a medical contact he could rely on-an internist he'd helped through a cancerous divorce. Guy kept offering him free checkups but Aaron didn't believe in doctors unless you were sick. Or needed them for extracurricular work.
Meanwhile, Book had to stay here.
Which is exactly what he told Moe and Petra when they started jawing about taking the actor into custody.
Surprisingly, Moe said, “I see your point. But unless we file on him and lock him up, it looks a whole lot like kidnapping.”
“Why? He's my guest,” said Aaron. “You had no idea I even had him.”
“A guest gets cuffed to the bed?”
“You never saw that.”
Neither detective spoke.
Aaron said, “I saved his life, guys. It's only logical he'd be depending on me and that will turn out useful for you.”
Petra said, “Hey, bring a girl over and call it a party.”
“There you go.”
Moe scowled. “A party is what Adella was promised. You believe Book about not knowing she was being set up?”
“I do.”
“What about Book's claim of not knowing what happened to the baby?”
“On some level, he knows Ax killed the baby-that's part of the self-loathing. But right now he can't-won't admit it. Which is exactly why he needs to be kept under wraps. Give him time to stew, I work on him, he opens up more.”
“Or just the opposite,” said Moe. “What if his head clears and he shuts up? Or worse, he goes into some sort of medical crisis.”
“I'll have a doctor check him.”
Moe pondered. “I don't know…”
Aaron said, “You heard that tape. Without me, Book would be strawberry jam at the bottom of a canyon. I just handed you a bonanza.”
The detectives exchanged looks.
“What am I missing, guys?”
Moe said, “We've got our own bonanza.”
Aaron took in the details of Raymond Wohr's admission to setting up Adella with Zen-serenity. Same for the news of Alicia Eiger's murder, the cell phone trace verifying Wohr's call to Ax Dement three hours prior to the stabbing.
When it was over, he said, “That fits perfectly with my info, guys: Adella knew Ax from Riptide, but not Book. She was Ax's problem because Ax was the baby's daddy. Meaning Book's being straight about just being bait. This is all coming together-eyewitness testimony on Ax for Adella, and logic telling us he's the prime suspect for Alicia.”
Petra said, “The way this bastard dispatches women, I'm wondering what else he's done. Book's pretty sure he's at Daddy's ranch right now?”
“You're wondering what else could be dug up there,” said Aaron. “Like baby bones.”
“The thought occurred to me.”
Moe rubbed a massive bicep.
Aaron's arms still throbbed. Where were you when I needed you, bro?
He said, “Same old story: Girl gets pregnant from the wrong guy, tries to capitalize, oversteps. In terms of burial site for the baby, that could be. Leo Carrillo, where Ax and Book drove out to get high. Like it was some shrine.”
Moe said, “Why a shrine for Book, if he's clean?”
“Don't know-so maybe Book does know more about the baby. Either way, I'd get a K-9 out there.”
“Another day at the beach,” said Petra. To Moe: “Whether or not Ax is at Daddy's, there's probable cause to go in.”
Moe nodded.
Aaron said, “One more thing: What does Wohr say about Caitlin?”
“Seen her once or twice.”
“On the level?”
“We think so.”
“So Caitlin's a whole other story.” So what the hell have I gotten myself into. Good morning, Mr. Dmitri…
Petra said, “Not necessarily. Ax could've killed Caitlin just because that's what he does. He didn't need Book so he didn't tell Book about it.”
Aaron said, “Not wanting Book to know too much because he's mentally unstable. Yeah, I like that.”
Moe said, “For all we know, Ax is biding his time before getting rid of Book. A suicidal, self-starving dope-head? Who's going to be suspicious if he does turn into strawberry jam?”
Aaron said, “Guy's feather-light, I could've tossed him myself.”
Moe said, “The motive for Caitlin could be a lust thing, or the same as Adella. She knew too much. Because of her relationship with Adella. Or Rory Stoltz flapped his gums and confided in her, she got horrified, threatened to go to the cops. Instead of shielding her, Rory told Book. Or went straight to Ax and warned him.”
“Selling out his girlfriend?” said Petra. “Cold.”
Aaron said, “I'm certain Rory scores dope for Book so he's clearly not the All-American kid his mama thinks he is. Little prick wants to parlay his PA. job into a big-time Industry gig, it pays to prioritize.”
Petra said, “Utter corruption, perfect tutorial for the Industry.”
Aaron said, “Meaning, Caitlin's bones could be buried on that ranch. All the more reason to go in.”
Moe said, “Book's medical condition still bugs me.”
“You want him, he's yours. But that means publicity, lawyers, stuff you won't be able to control. Keep him here and I'll get a doctor and someone rock-solid reliable to watch him.”
Imagining Liana's face when she learned her new assignment. Female and gorgeous should make the actor feel right at home. Hell, Liana could wear a blond wig. “By the time we get back here, Book'll be gelling his hair and eating steak.”
“Get back from where?” said Moe.
“Our little party.”
“Our?”
“What can I say, Moses? I'm into plural pronouns.” Aaron thought he saw Petra smile. But now she was looking detached and he couldn't read her at all. “Moses, I'm not asking you for an explicit expression of appreciation. But I did get you pure gold, why would you want to cut me off?”
Now Petra definitely was smiling. Moving to hide it behind a slim, white hand.
Moe's eyebrows rose. He said, “What do you think, partner?”
She said, “Doesn't bother me, but you're the primary.”
Moe ran a finger inside his shirt collar. Massaged his arm again, as if soothing an ache, and faced Aaron. “Thank you. Bro.”