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ON TUESDAY MORNING, all the interested parties wanted to question Patrick again. The Beverlys had dictated the terms under which this would happen, and they told the FBI and the LAPD they would meet them at Cooper and Associates, with my mother representing Patrick. She was over the moon with excitement. This was the great, white whale. She was going to be the lawyer to a multibillionaire.
Much to my joyful surprise, I hadn’t died from my head injury. I woke up with a massive headache and took some aspirin first thing, then resisted the urge to poke at the bandage. Now I was getting ready to head over to the office. While Dad was in the shower, I was in my kitchen, making coffee. It was then that I heard a cell phone ring.
Instinctively, I reached for my suit coat pocket. Then it rang again, and I realized it wasn’t mine.
I walked over to the coffee table in front of the couch. Dad’s phone was ringing — a call from Gail, the producer of the game show I had met a few days ago. I looked back toward the bathroom, where Dad was singing the Beach Boys’ entire repertoire. He drifted from one set of lyrics to another, never landing on just one song. Infuriating.
Thinking it was important, I picked up and answered.
“Paul Cooper’s phone, how may I direct your call?”
There was silence, and then Gail replied cautiously, “Jimmy?”
“Yep. Jimmy. Hey, Gail. How are you?” I winced. Sounding this chipper hurt, but I had a brand to maintain.
“I’m good.”
She didn’t sound good. Her breathing was shallow, and the words came out clipped. “So...” she began.
Producers don’t just call to chitchat. They might start with chitchat, but the purpose of the call is never to catch up. They don’t care. Producers need things. Time. Money. Catching up is not going to give them either of those.
“Yeah?”
“There’s news,” she spit out.
It was going to be bad news.
“It’s not great.”
Nailed it. I headed to the kitchen. Grabbing a mug, I tucked Dad’s phone into the crook of my shoulder and poured a cup of coffee. “The network is passing on the show?”
Another pause. “Well...”
I stopped. I knew what was coming. I had gotten a lot of calls like this. Normally they had come from my former agent, who would cough and hack her way through the call until she lit up another cigarette. So I supplied, “They’re going in a different direction with casting?”
Relieved, Gail said, “Yeah.” She took a breath. “We fought hard for you. But the network...”
Translation: Neither she nor Michael had fought hard for me, but she thought I needed to hear that. I didn’t mind the lie. I took a sip of coffee, already feeling better.
Gail continued. “It’s the stuff in the news, Jimmy. Everyone is talking about it. The murders, you know?”
I nodded, took another sip. “They do know I didn’t kill anyone, right? Like, I’m not even a suspect. Arguably, I’m the hero.”
She hummed. “I know. But, Jimmy, you’re murder adjacent. You’re right next to the murders. That’s not the vibe the network is going for.”
I took a breath. Honestly, I was feeling pretty good. “OK.”
“I have to say, you’re taking this well, Jimmy.”
“Yeah, I am,” I said, surprised at my own reaction. “It’s almost like the game show didn’t really mean anything to me. Huh.”
This caused Gail to stumble over her words. “Oh! Uh. OK. That’s... um... that’s OK.”
Ugh. Way to go, Jimmy. The show meant a lot to her.
“Well, you know, if things change...”
“Like if I become less ‘murder adjacent’?” I offered.
“...maybe you can be on the show.”
I laughed quietly. “Take care, Gail.” I hung up.
“That my phone?”
Dad was dressed in a golf shirt and still drying his hair. I handed him the phone, saying, “Gail called.”
“Shit, shit! This was about the shooting schedule.” He started unlocking his phone, ready to call back.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “They’re going in a different direction.”
He looked at me, growing pale. “A different direction?” He licked his lips.
I nodded. “It’s all the stuff in the news about me and the case. The network... You know how scared networks are of...” I paused. “Right, well, they don’t like cast members being associated with death and crime and stuff. So...”
Dad looked at his phone. I could see the wheels turning in his head. “I could call her back,” he muttered. “I should call her back.”
“It’s out of her hands, Dad. And she sounded relieved. It’s over.”
He looked at me, though his eyes seemed a little distant. He never did like losing a role.
“We’ll get them next time,” I said.
He nodded. “Yeah. That’s the spirit,” he said quietly. “Next time.”
My phone dinged — a text from Patrick’s friend Blake.
Duuuude. That guy that took Patrick, he was the old guy at the party.
I texted a thanks back. About a day late, Blake.
***
THE VIBE IN THE LAW offices of Cooper and Associates was “Cautiously Excited.” Everybody from reception to the other attorneys knew who was coming. There had never been such a thrilling cast of characters in the office at one time. Not just the Beverlys, but the LAPD! The F-B-Freakin’-I! Can I get a “Federal Jurisdiction in the house!” Wut-wut!
None of this was normal. Until today, I had been the biggest celebrity to walk through the door.
Nora met me at reception, offering me a glass of water. “Coffee is a bad idea. Better to stay hydrated with a concussion.”
Of course my morning coffee had been a bad idea. Taking the glass, I said, “How did you hear?”
“Your sister told me.” She and I started walking. “Ms. Cooper is waiting for you in your office.”
“Are they here yet?”
“The Beverlys?” Nora shook her head. “They should be in at any moment. The FBI and the LAPD are in the conference room. Your mother is in her office. She’s been on the phone with the Beverlys.”
We arrived at my office, and I stepped inside as Nora headed to her desk. Erika was sitting on my black leather couch, reading through a folder of documents. Her eyes flicked up to me and back down to the pages. “How are you feeling?” she asked, distantly.
She was still upset about last night, but being my kid sister, couldn’t help but check in.
I sat next to her. “About what I said last night...”
“You were dumb?” she offered without looking away from the file.
“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t say dumb and inappropriate things from time to time.”
She looked up and raised an eyebrow. “That’s true.” She blinked and shook her head. “I don’t know what the story is between you and Dad right now. Maybe he has turned a corner. Maybe he’s not the guy he was. But I’m not ready to believe that.”
I nodded. She nodded. My face squished from the throbbing pain the nodding had kicked off. Erika stopped nodding. “Are you OK?”
I showed her the glass of water. “I’m staying hydrated.”
She smiled.
“What are you reading?” I asked.
“Evidence.” She closed the folder. “The Beverlys gave Mom evidence that Edward Stratton had been stealing money from them. They’re going to turn it over to the FBI and the police.”
“Really?” I took the folder from her and opened it. The bank accounts and transactions inside it made my head swim. “This is real? This all makes sense to you?”
Erika took the folder back. “It does. And it is. Up until about two months ago, he had been funneling money out of the company.” She tapped the folder. “Bits and pieces here and there. It all adds up to a lot of money.”
“He stopped two months ago?”
She shrugged. “Maybe he wanted a bigger piece and came up with the kidnapping idea.”
I leaned back and twirled the glass in my hands. “Yeah, maybe. Are the Beverlys saying why Edward needed the money?”
“Mom didn’t tell me if they did. She’s keeping the Beverlys to herself.”
I nodded and finished off the water. Our mother could be a bit of a control freak. “They sure got the evidence fast.”
“What do you mean?”
“Doesn’t this kind of accounting” — I pointed to the folder — “you know, where the accountants dig through all the stuff and find the secrets...?”
She sighed. “You mean forensic accounting?”
“Yes, that. I do mean that. That stuff takes time.”
“It can.” Erika thought about it. “Once they were onto Edward, they started looking. Edward was head of security, not an accountant. Maybe he was terrible at covering his tracks.”
“Maybe.” I chewed my lip.
A knock at the door and Nora leaned in. “They’re here.”
Erika and I stepped out of my office into the hallway to watch, along with everyone else, as Mom escorted the Beverlys through Cooper and Associates. She was chatting to Robert Beverly on her right. He was dressed in his suit of choice: dark blue, double-breasted, with gold buttons. He nodded brusquely as Mom spoke. Behind them were Eva and Patrick. She was dressed in a cream-colored suit while Patrick was in a shirt and tie, which made him look twelve years old.
I guess there had been a discussion about dressing up for your police interview.
As they got closer, I joined the group. Mom and Robert glanced at me but then carried on with their whispered conversation.
“How are you, buddy?” I said to Patrick. We were almost to my mother’s office. Once inside, she wouldn’t want me there. They had stuff to go over, and I’d mess it all up. “I just wanted to ask you about Friday night.”
Eva stopped and turned to me. Everyone else followed suit. Mom looked at me, raising an eyebrow. Robert looked at his wife and then to his son. Patrick stood behind his mother, staring at me with sullen eyes.
“He’s not going to do that. All right?” she snapped. “He is here to speak to the police. And you are not the police.”
I was taken aback by her hostility toward me. I had thought we were on the same page. This wasn’t how I’d expect someone to act after I just saved their son.
She started to go, but I stepped toward her and Eva stopped again.
“I just want to know if he recognized the guy who stabbed Matty. Was it the guy I followed, or was it — ”
“James,” said my mother sharply.
I looked at the group. “I’m just trying to find out who killed Matty.”
“And the police will do their best once they have spoken with Patrick,” replied my mother. “Now, Mr. and Mrs. Beverly, Patrick, right this way.”
The group moved farther down the hall, and Patrick gave me a cursory once-over before dismissing me entirely. I didn’t want to tell anyone, but at that moment, I was staring to not like this Beverly kid. I didn’t want to shit on a kidnap victim, but this kid was an asshole, not at all the person I thought he was.