Allie Rice shook her head at the memory.
“He was so ugly. I didn’t know Lou Warren. I’d never heard of Lou Warren. But the hateful arrogance of this man, the ugly meanness in his voice made my skin crawl.”
Josh and Ryan were watching her. I was watching her, too.
“So you contacted Mr. Warren.”
She shrugged.
“After I changed jobs. I thought he should know, but I don’t think he did anything.”
Josh glanced at me.
“You see? These people are the scum of the earth. Evil, horrible people.”
He looked back at Allie.
“Thank you for sharing your story.”
“I hope it helps.”
“It will help. I promise you this will help.”
I said, “Did you photograph the cash?”
She looked surprised.
“It never occurred to me. I guess I should’ve.”
I shrugged like it was no big deal. I wanted to ask if the pilots or other crew had seen any of this, but I knew what she’d say and I didn’t want to make her feel bad.
I said, “Nah, it’s okay. I was just curious.”
Allie Rice was trying to help, but without corroboration her claims carried little weight.
I turned to Josh.
“What are we going to hear?”
“How Rachel discovered the truth.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Josh tapped his phone, and Rachel Belle Bohlen told us what happened.
47
Her Finest Performance
She’d been with Grady Locke so many times during the past five years she couldn’t remember them all. Rachel usually met him at party locations like hotels or yachts where Grady wined and dined big shots. But every so often, maybe half a dozen times a year, she went to his two-bedroom loft on the seventh floor of a former factory building in downtown Los Angeles. The concrete walls and ceilings were painted various shades of gray, the polished concrete floor gleamed, and the cabinetry in the kitchen and living room was a rich mahogany, which lent warmth to the austere gray walls. Each time she arrived, Grady made a big deal of pointing out the eastern view of the Arts District and the L.A. River bridges, and the northern view across Chinatown to the glow of Dodger Stadium, as if she’d never seen them. Skylar oohed and aahed as always, but Skylar wasn’t impressed and didn’t care. Acting impressed was part of the gig, and, truth was, she wanted to finish him fast and get the hell out.
The tour ended in his bedroom, him framed in the window, pointing out the golden glow from Chavez Ravine as if the view were a trophy. Skylar decided to nudge him along.
She said, “Hey. Look at this instead.”
He turned from the window.
“What?”
Skylar let her black leather jacket fall. She peeled the tiny black dress up from her body like a snake shedding skin, and flipped it away. She turned left, letting him see. She turned right.
“Me or Dodger Stadium? Which view do you like best?”
They did the same stupid dance every time. Yawn.
Grady grinned and moved closer.
“You win. Want a drink?”
“If you’re drinking, sure. A drink would be nice.”
“I have some pot. We could four-twenty?”
He seemed hopeful, so she gave him the answer he wanted.
“Spark up, dude. Let’s party.”
Skylar followed him back into the living room, which, like every loft space she’d ever seen, was an enormous industrial cavern—exposed ducts along the ceiling, exposed electrical conduits running down the walls—divided into areas: here’s the kitchen area, here’s the dining and bar area, here’s the living room area with the monster big-screen. He kept his joints in a small inlaid box behind the bar. She went to the dining table for her briefcase, which was slim and professional. The briefcase gave her an air of legitimate purpose when she entered buildings for work, as if the people who saw her might think she was a woman entering their building for some appropriate, legal reason.
He saw her opening the briefcase and smiled again.
“Bring your movies?”
She lifted out her iPad, teasing him.
“I know you dig watching, but I don’t know if I should show you these. They’re nasty. You might be disgusted. You might want to spank me.”
He was grinning like a doof. He had paid eight hundred dollars for three hours of her time. Drool was already dripping down his shirt.
He said, “Damn, you’re hot. Let’s do this.”
Grady, like many of her johns, dug her past as a pornstar. Watching the girl in the video with the girl in the video turned them on. They watched the girl in the video even when the girl who had been in the video was under them. Skylar preferred this. When they focused on the video girl, they were not with Skylar, and Skylar was not with them. Skylar could be absent.