I don’t have Anna’s deep pockets. I’ve checked your credit score and I’m going to need payment up front, Mr. Collard,” Sam Larabee said.
I thought Anna Cacciola had given me the wrong address; 4000 Warner Boulevard in Burbank turned out to be the address of Warner Studios, and Larabee had one of the small, old production offices on the lot.
“I gotta ask,” I said, trying to change the subject. “How—”
“The office,” Larabee cut me off. “I did a service for one of the executives here, and he insisted I take it. Rent free for life.”
“Must have been quite a service.”
“It was. I don’t fuck around, Mr. Collard. Which is why it will be payment up front.”
Larabee wasn’t quite the grizzled private detective I’d imagined. Apart from the office on the studio lot, which was just surreal, he was a rolled-up sleeves, white shirt, and slacks kind of guy. Skinny and tall with a hard edge and a stern, but somehow charming smile. He reminded me of a young Matthew McConaughey, not just in looks. His tough but fair surface seemed designed to conceal unfathomable depths. He didn’t bother trying to impress me with his background; we both knew Anna’s recommendation was enough.
So, we sat in his office surrounded by the fakers and dream-makers, and he listened while I spun a yarn of my own, telling him why I needed to find this mystery lady. I think he suspected I was lying, but he was probably the kind of guy who assumed most people were liars.
“Shouldn’t be too difficult to find her if you got the license,” he told me when I was finished. “My assistant will send you a bill. I’ll get started once it’s paid.”
“Thanks,” I said before he showed me out.
His assistant, a preppy mid-twentysomething called Otis, who looked like he might have worked his way up from the studio mail room, took my details and promised to send me the bill within an hour.
My phone rang as I left the building.
“Pey,” Toni said when I answered.
I relaxed, then. She never used my pet name if she was mad. She must have forgiven me for showing up at her place drunk with Jim.
“What the fuck have you been doing?” Uh-oh. I’d misjudged it. She was mad as hell.
“Some guys came round here and threatened me and Skye. They said you’d better get them their money.”
My heart fell into a black pit of despair. Frankie Balls wanted me to know they would make good on their threat.
“I’m sorry—” I said, but she cut me off before I could get any further.
“Fuck! Peyton, this is our daughter. You can ruin your own life, but don’t you dare put her in danger.” She started crying. “Don’t you dare.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, stopping by my car. I was shaking. What had I done?
“That’s not good enough, Peyton. You need to fix this. Whatever it is, you need to make it go away.”
She was right, of course. I had to step up, even if I paid a heavy price.
“I need to see you,” I said.
She hesitated.
“Please, Toni,” I said. “I have to. It’s part of how I make this right.”
“Peyton, I don’t want to—”
“Toni, you might not love me anymore, but I still love you. You were my first, Toni, and Skye is my only. I need to see you.”
She hesitated.
“Okay. I’m at home. I sent Skye to play at Laura’s house. They’ll bring her home for dinner.”
“I’m on my way. Be there in about thirty minutes,” I replied before hanging up.
I made it to Toni’s in thirty-five minutes. I checked my phone as I walked toward the broken gate in front of her building, and saw the bill from Otis Huxley, Sam Larabee’s assistant. I paused, used my online bank to pay, and sent an email to let him know before hurrying through the gate. I crossed the yard and knocked on the back door, and Toni answered almost instantly.
“Oh my God,” she said when she saw my bruises. “Did they do this?”
“Yeah.”
“Come in.” She led me into her tiny apartment. I sat on the couch and she joined me.
“You remember the summer Billy Whipple kicked my ass?” I asked.
She smiled and nodded, but there were tears in her eyes.
We’d been kids together. She knew me better than anyone. She was my love. My friend. So close to me and yet so far. If anyone could sense I was a dead man walking, it was her.
“This is nothing like that,” I said. Billy Whipple had been a beach bully, and I stood up to him on the shores of Lake Michigan, only to be buried face-first in the sand. Ass in the air, mouth full of dirt, it had been something of a joke at high school. If someone got beat up, they’d gotten Whippled just like Collard. “These guys are nothing like Billy. They mean business. I don’t see a good ending here.”
“Oh, Peyton,” she replied. I don’t know if she had a whole angry speech planned, but she was all sympathy and pity now. “Why did this happen?”
I didn’t have time to explain. I knew part of her would be glad to see the back of me. The part that had fallen in love with Jack.
“I’ve sent my lawyer some information. If anything happens to me, you’re to go see Anna Cacciola. She’s got a code only you’ll understand. A story really full of references from childhood. It will lead you to the money I’ve left Skye.”
“Peyton,” she said, her eyes shimmering. “They can’t kill you. They won’t kill you. What have you been doing?”
“Bad things,” I replied, and her tears fell. “I’ve been doing bad things. I wish I hadn’t, but I was desperate to be a good man, a good father, and someone used my desperation to manipulate me. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” she replied. She exhaled and took my hands. “Just give them the money. We’ll be okay. Skye needs a father. Her father.”
I was surprised.
“You and I, Peyton. We’re still just kids. No one prepared us for this world. No one tells you what it’s going to be like. That you have to figure it all out for yourself. That there are no do-overs.”
“I can’t give them the money,” I responded. “My life is a mess. There might be no do-overs, but there are endings. I can’t control how the story goes, but I can control how it ends. I’m not a good man, Toni. You want to save me? Skye has a chance with that money. If I can do one good thing, I can be at peace.”
“Do you know why she wants to be a doctor?” Toni asked.
I shook my head, barely in control of my emotions.
“She thinks if there had been a doctor there that day, Freya Persico would still be alive,” Toni revealed, and I felt the lump in my throat tremble, ready to give way to a flood. “She doesn’t want any other families to go through the pain we’ve suffered.”
The revelation was too much for me at that moment, and I started crying as Toni embraced me. She cried too.
“I want to do right by her,” I sobbed. “I want to make this better. For her.”
“I thought I’d lost the good man I’d married,” she said. “But he’s still in there. He’s still trying.”
I heard a key in the front door, and a moment later Skye entered, bemused to find her tearful mother holding her sobbing father.
“Er, hi,” she said.
Toni let me go and wiped her eyes. I did the same.
“Hi, honey. How was Laura?” Toni asked.
“Good. Hi, Dad,” Skye responded.
“Hi, kiddo,” I said. “Are you okay?”
She nodded as she put her bag on the small kitchen table. “You mean those guys? Mom said they were just trying to scare us.”
“They were,” I assured her. “I’m gonna take care of it. You don’t have anything to worry about. I’m going to make everything right.”
Skye brightened, and Toni took my hand and held it fondly, and for the briefest time I had everything I needed.