“Grady Locke speaking.”
“Mr. Locke, we show an alert at your residence. Are you at the residence now, sir?”
“I’m at my office. What’s going on?”
“We’re seeing a breach at your front door. Would you like us to send the police?”
Locke’s knees felt weak. His head buzzed and a heavy pressure filled his chest.
Maybe the system malfunctioned.
Maybe this was a false alarm.
“No. No, that’s okay. Sorry. I had something delivered. My neighbor was supposed to let the guys in and set the alarm when they finished, but she probably just screwed up the code. I’ll take care of it.”
“So you do not want a police response?”
“No, sir. Sorry for the trouble.”
Grady Locke lowered his phone. The buzzing grew until it filled his head like cotton. He touched his desk to keep his balance.
Grady grabbed his jacket and keys and staggered out of his office. He was so frightened he almost fell, but he ran past his assistant and rushed for his car.
56
Elvis Cole
Adele put Wendy Vann on the line and Wendy reported what they knew.
“He’s not a prisoner, Cole. He told us they were going to Ryan’s house. They didn’t.”
“How long have they been gone?”
“Coming up on eighty minutes.”
Eighty minutes didn’t seem so long.
“Maybe they stopped for a hamburger.”
“They were going to Ryan’s for dinner. His mother was making enchiladas. Turns out she wasn’t. Ryan told her he’d be eating here. And guess what? Josh is not answering his phone and neither is Ryan.”
Anyone else, two grown men going out for a couple of hours wouldn’t be an issue. But this wasn’t anyone else. Anyone else wouldn’t have a target on his back.
Lucy and Ben were watching. Welcome back to Elvisland.
“They know not to go to the bungalow.”
“Options?”
Josh had named plenty of options. They were bad.
“Whose car did they take?”
“Ryan’s.”
“Can you give me the make and model? Tag if you have it.”
“Stand by.”
I grabbed a pen, copied the information, and called Lou Poitras.
“He may be on his way to confront Richter or Locke.”
Lou said, “Waitaminute. Is this kid armed? Does he intend to harm these people?”
“Not Josh. He wants to expose them.”
“Like, run up behind them and pull down their pants?”
“They’ve been hunting him for a reason, Lou. He’s been smart enough to hide, but he wants to take them on. He specifically told me he wants to confront Richter.”
“Which means he’s turned stupid.”
“Richter’s the whale.”
“I can issue a BOLO to the area cars around City Hall and Richter’s district offices. Best I can do tonight.”
I put away the phone.
“I’d better head downtown.”
Lucy lifted her hand so I’d see the ring. She smiled.
“I’ll have something warm waiting.”
Ben returned to the couch.
“I’m already grossed out. Just saying.”
I let myself out and called Jon Stone as I drove down the hill.
“I should charge for answering your calls.”
“The bungalow. Is your device still active?”
“It’ll cost to find out.”
“Stop it. Has anyone entered?”
“No. When the bug triggers, I receive an alert. No alerts, no entry. What’s up?”
I explained about Josh.
“He didn’t go home. Sorry.”
“Me, too.”
I called Joe Pike next.
“Meet me at City Hall. This kid is going to get himself killed.”
I drove to City Hall as fast as I could, but it was over by the time I arrived.
57
Sanford Richter
Council member, 16th District City Hall
Richter left his office on the fourth floor of City Hall for a statement release in Meeting Room A down the corridor. His communications director and a senior advisor tagged along, their only purpose being the appearance of power. Powerful people couldn’t shit without staff.
The advisor said, “You look good. Remember to stand up straight.”
“Mm.”
A statement release was a photo op. Richter and the other members would basically congratulate each other for working to improve the L.A. water system in an environmentally responsible way, funding a senior meal delivery service, and leading the effort to plug the city’s potholes. The members would smile, shake hands, and pose with their arms over each other’s shoulders like the greatest friends in the world. Richter hated them both. Kathi Lee was a lunatic who felt everyone should go vegan and sleep under windmills, and Carlos Reed was a self-righteous roadblock who refused to cut deals. Five or six reporters would be on hand, the whole thing would last about five minutes, and Richter could return to his office.