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“YOU OK?” I ASKED MATTY, who sat on the grass, right where he had been dropped by the bodyguard, arms on his knees. He was pale and breathing fast, and I thought he might throw up. So, no, he wasn’t OK. But this was how polite society behaved. We always ask someone who is clearly not OK if they are OK, like we’re trying to avoid really getting involved.
He nodded, avoiding my eyes.
“This business, it can turn aggressive pretty quick,” I said.
“I’m all right.”
“Yeah, you said.”
“God, you couldn’t just, like... let me do this thing.” He was pissed. “I had a plan.” Which probably didn’t include getting assaulted. “And then you come along and you fuck it up.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
He shook his head. “That’s a lie.”
It was.
“OK. I didn’t come here with the plan of ruining whatever it was you were up to, but...” I paused, ready to lay it out there. “It turns out we’re on the same case.”
Matty rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock.”
“You knew?”
“Of course I knew. The Beverlys told me when they hired me.”
Embarrassed and weak in the knees, I sat next to him on the ground, looking out at the street.
Matty went on. “They got me up to speed, told me what they knew — ”
I bit my lip. That was how he had ended up at Derrick’s office so quickly.
“And I took it from there.” He was getting his color back. A couple of deep breaths. “He’s heavily invested in real estate all over Los Angeles County. Most of it in shit apartment buildings in shit neighborhoods.” He looked at me. “It was all he could afford.”
“He’s stuck with bad investments.”
“I was hoping I could get him interested in this place.” He tipped his head back at the apartment building. “Build some trust, develop a lead. If he’s holding Patrick, maybe he’s holding him at one of his properties.”
“Wow, Matty,” I said, stunned. “That’s... actually good.”
I am not crafty like that.
He didn’t know how to reply to the compliment, so he muttered, “Thanks.”
Maybe he would make a good private detective, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I looked at the building. It was a nice place. “Do you own the place?”
Matty burst out laughing. “Most of my money got conned out of me by my business manager. I do have a corner apartment on the front. I’m lucky I can afford the rent.”
“It is Santa Monica.”
He agreed, and we sat in silence for a beat.
“I am sorry,” I said. “About...” I pointed to where Sayles’s car had sat.
Matty shrugged, making it very unclear if he was accepting my apology or not. I guess I really needed to go there.
“And for being an asshole the other night,” I added. “I didn’t... it wasn’t about jealousy. At least, I don’t think it was. Maybe it was a little bit about jealousy. This is — was — my thing, you know? But, also, like, this is a dangerous gig. You can’t just jump into it.”
“I’ll be ready next time.” There was an eerie calm to the way he said that, which worried me.
“Sure,” I said. “It’s... I guess I was trying to look out for you.”
“I don’t need you looking out for me.”
I paused, realizing my apology was going to lead to another argument. “You’re right,” I said instead. “You’re totally right.” I pushed myself up off the ground and opened my arms. “Come on, bring it in.”
He looked me up and down. “I’m not hugging you.”
“I think you should hug me. We just made a breakthrough in our relationship.”
“I don’t want to hug you,” he said.
“Not even a little bit?”
He said nothing.
“Look,” I said, putting my arms down. “We should to work together.” I offered a hand to help him up.
Matty slapped it away. “I’m not an old man,” he said as he got onto his feet. “Work together? Like a buddy comedy?”
Both of us made a face. We were on the same wavelength. This wasn’t going to be a buddy comedy.
“Think more of it as a collaboration,” I suggested. “It doesn’t have to be a competition. We share information and resources. There’s a life at stake.”
He crossed his arms. “Yeah, I know what’s at stake.”
Clearly it was going to be difficult between Matty and me. And that was OK. I was a professional, and I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt. I assumed he was as well. Besides, I had worked with some really terrible costars who will go nameless. All I’ll say is it was worse than the rumors around Hoffman and Streep during Kramer vs. Kramer.
“Fine,” he said. “We can work together. But this about Patrick. You’re still an asshole.”
And maybe I was. But I was happy to have the help. Time was running out.
I asked Matty, “What do you think about Sayles? You think he has Patrick?”
“Kidnapping feels personal, you know?” He was fine now, totally back to being himself. But I could see a bit of fire in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “You don’t kidnap anyone anymore to make a buck. It’s easier to hack a company and hold the server hostage,” said Matty. “Whoever took him wants the money and a little bit of revenge. So why not Sayles? He’s been screwed by the Beverlys before. Maybe this time he took it personally.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” I replied. “There’s just something about this case that gets me.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know.” I scratched my cheek. “There’s a nagging thought. Like, why are we on this case? Pardon me for saying it, but you lack a certain amount of experience — ”
“Fuck you,” he said plainly.
“Noted. And I’m me. They came to me. There’s lots of private investigators in this city. Why me?”
“Edward Stratton recommended me.”
“And me.”
I suddenly had the urge to talk to Stratton again. But I wasn’t done. “And then there’s Patrick.”
Matty frowned, curious.
“His mom thinks he’s this loving son. His best friend said he argued with his father all the time. And his girlfriend, ex-girlfriend — ”
Matty stepped closer, confused. “They never mentioned a girlfriend.”
“Ex. They don’t like her, but yeah... So, I don’t know. It’s just... I’m bugged and I hate being bugged.”
“So, what then?”
I thought about that.
“Let’s stick with Sayles,” I said. “He was my best lead and he has a motive.”
Matty shook his head. “Is he the type, though? To do this?”
“I’ve been wondering that too.” I looked in the direction of the departed black SUV. “Maybe he would be, with the right people.” I pulled out my phone. “In the meantime, let’s keep up with your idea that Patrick is being held at one of the properties Sayles owns.” I called Nora.
She answered, crisp, bright, efficient. “Jimmy Cooper’s office.”
I tried my British accent, a bit Michael Caine with a dash of Dick Van Dyke, in an attempt to throw her off her game. “‘Allo, luv, I was hoping to speak with Mr. Cooper. Is he in?”
Matty made a sour face, and I grinned in return.
“Mr. Cooper, we’ve gone over this,” my long-suffering assistant said. “I have caller ID.”
She was unshakable. “Nora, I was wondering if we could get a list of all the properties that Derrick Says owns.”
She paused. “It will take some time to go through city records — ”
“And the county. He owns places all over.”
Another pause. “It will take a little longer, but I can get you a list.”
I thanked her and hung up. I said to Matty, “I’ll get you the list as soon as I have it. You can start checking them out. Maybe start with the places within the city. Like, I doubt he’s up in Palmdale.”
He nodded his chin at me. “What about you?”
“I have an idea who might be a willing partner for Sayles. I just don’t know his name yet.”