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Dan drove to the outskirts of San Diego, but as they passed Coronado Island on their way out of town, he asked Ben if he’d like to take a turn.
They swapped seats, then resumed travel northward. Traffic thickened as they approached Los Angeles, and he felt somewhat guilty about dumping the driving on Ben. But if he’d learned anything from this journey, it was that Ben was a better driver—and a lot tougher—than he appeared.
He pulled out his cellphone and started tapping buttons.
Ben noticed. “You like that little gizmo of yours, don’t you, youngster. I been thinkin’ about gettin’ me one. Oh, wait—”
“Just stop already.” Dan pressed the phone to his ear.
“You’re making yourself look old,” Ben muttered.
But not so softly that Dan didn’t hear. “What?”
“The way you’re talking into the phone. Showing your age. It isn’t a Princess phone. The mic is at the bottom. The cool kids hold it sideways and talk into the mic.”
“Do you think I care—” Then he stopped, grimaced, and put the phone on Speaker. “Jaz? Can you hear me? Tell me you’ve got something.”
Static on the other end. Then a female voice. “I’d be lying to you.”
Dan whispered to Ben. “District attorney.” He raised his voice. “Help me out here.”
“Didn’t Jake tell you not to leave town?”
“You know I couldn’t sit on my butt while Maria was in danger. Come on. You love Maria. There must be something more you can do.”
“Without evidence? Or even a lead?”
“You’re just saying that because you’re afraid you’ll get in trouble if you help a defense attorney.”
Ben shook his head and made a clicking noise. “I don’t think that’s what she’s saying.”
Dan gripped the phone tighter. “If this had happened to you, Jaz, Maria would be moving heaven and earth.”
“I know she would. And we’re—”
“Excuses are useless. Can’t you see how serious this is? She could be hurt. Dying.”
Ben leaned sideways so Dan couldn’t possibly not hear him. “You’re overreacting.”
“No one ever got anything by underreacting.”
“Wrong.”
“Look,” Dan said to the phone, “I don’t have time to mess around, Jaz. You’re either with me or you’re against me.”
Ben looked at him in despair. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
Dan punched the Mute button. “Would you stop Monday-morning quarterbacking my phone call?”
“You’re doing it all wrong.”
“You don’t think I know how to talk to a district attorney?”
“I don’t think you know how to talk to a woman, that’s for sure.” He paused. “Or possibly, the entire human race.”
“You don’t even know her.”
“Do you?”
“I’ve known Jazlyn for years.”
“Socially?”
The corner of Dan’s mouth turned up a bit. “We did a little socializing back in the day.”
“You dated her.”
“Just once. Wasn’t really even a date. We dined together, that’s all.”
“While she was district attorney?”
“Before. She was only an assistant DA back then. I told her it wouldn’t happen again.”
“You friend-zoned her? After you bedded her?”
“I did not—”
“And you can’t think of any reason why she might not want to help you?”
“I never said—”
Ben leaned forward. “Just repeat after me.” He whispered. “I apologize.”
Dan glared at him—but turned off the Mute function and repeated to the phone. “I apologize.”
Ben continued. “I had no right to speak to you that way.”
Dan looked even angrier. But he repeated. “I had no right to speak to you that way.”
“I’m just worried sick about Maria.”
Dan dutifully repeated.
The voice on the phone reacted immediately. “I know, Dan. No worries. I haven’t quit looking. And I won’t. In fact, I’m going to call in some favors with a friend at the FBI. This might be a kidnapping, and it’s remotely possible they might know something useful.”
Ben just smiled.
“Thanks,” Dan said. “Give my love to Esperanza.” He ended the call.
Ben continued driving. “Noticed that you gave a shoutout to that adopted girl again.”
“Sweetest kid ever.”
“So you do like children.”
“I like that one.”
“Because you spent time with her. Got to know her. But there’s no substitute for having one of your own. Seriously, Dan. Don’t wait forever. Life is short.”
“Deep. Did you come up with that yourself?”
It wasn’t the morning, lunch, or evening rush hour—but traffic was still dense and confusing, with too many twisting highways on which everyone drove too fast and changed lanes without signaling.
“Hate this traffic,” he muttered. “Worse than New York.”
“Agreed. At least in New York City, you’ve got something to look at. Here it’s just big ugly buildings and billboards.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be swimming pools, movie stars?”
“People in that tax bracket don’t drive the highways. They are driven.”
Eventually, thanks to Google Maps, he found the building that housed the Last Chance Lawyers’ LA office. He parked and they walked to the front lobby.
This office, like all the others, identified itself as EVELYN ENTERPRISES.
“I get that you don’t want to advertise the LCL name,” Dan said, “given how many whack jobs have a problem with lawyers. But who’s Evelyn?”
“My mother. Who always said her children were her most precious gift. Even when we didn’t get along.” He paused. “I remember when Christina told me we were expecting. It changed everything. Changed my whole life.”
Dan smirked. “Did you start crying?”
“Didn’t have the luxury. I was dismantling a bomb at the time.”
“Whaaaaat?”
“Long story.”
The station just opposite the elevator doors looked like a receptionist’s desk. But there was no receptionist.
“Maybe they’re having a late lunch. Or early Happy Hour.”
Since they couldn’t find a soul on the ground floor, they invited themselves up.
“Gary’s office is on the second floor,” Ben explained, as they climbed an interior staircase.
Dan placed a hand on his chest, holding him back. “Maybe we should think twice about this?”
“We traveled a zillion miles to talk to this guy. Now you want to call it off?”
Dan leaned in closer. “Do you remember what happened the last time we visited someone at their office unannounced?”
“You mean in Roswell?”
“We found a guy with a bullet in his head.”
“Just stay calm.”
“When was the last time you checked in with this Gary?”
“I don’t know. I put you in charge of the LCL operation.”
They stood outside a closed office door. Eventually, Dan knocked.
No reply.
“He’s not expecting us,” Ben said.
“That much is clear.”
Dan drew in his breath. “Okay. Going in.” Another deep breath. “Because just because we found a corpse once doesn’t mean—”
He pushed the door open.
Even before he spotted the body, he saw the blood.
His eyelids closed like curtains. “We are cursed.”