Part 9 (2/2)
”That was the first one.”
”Yeah, that one.”
He heard her sigh again and say something about the importance of communication in a relations.h.i.+p, but he wasn't listening. He tried another search for Lucien Christophe, this time in his old Carressa Industries files. Max frowned when only two doc.u.ments popped up, both related to the old lab equipment company acquisition. Neither contained any mention of Lucien's residence or office address.
After calling in a favor from an old business a.s.sociate with real estate connections, Max had discovered Lucien not only patronized but owned the Pana Sea, though other people managed it for him. More publicly available information about Lucien proved difficult to find. For a rich jet-setter, he kept a suspiciously low profile. Other than the Pana Sea, his name wasn't connected to any property in the United States, either as a renter or an owner. He didn't want people to find him. Val probably knew all this already.
Abby's cell phone rang; she answered it. Max glanced up when he heard Ginger's name.
”Yeah, okay. Hope you're not stuck there too long. See you tomorrow. Love ya.” She hung up.
”Who was that?” Max asked, knowing full well it had been her brother.
”Eugene,” she said. ”His flight out of L.A.'s been delayed. He won't be able to make dinner tonight.”
”Oh.” Max queued up an Internet search for every flight out of LAX to Sea-Tac that night. None were delayed. He turned off the tablet and chewed his thumb for a moment, deep in thought.
He should let it go. So Ginger had lied about his flight. Didn't mean he was up to something nefarious...though he probably was. Max could just give Val the information and let her follow him alone, but he promised he'd go with her. Worse, he wanted to go with her. Be alone with her. When he'd woken up in her bed, a part of him wanted to believe they'd made love. He would never cheat on Abby, but he couldn't deny a craving for Val that continued to grow in his heart, like a blooming crystal cutting up everything around it. But the feeling would pa.s.s if he kept his distance. It had to pa.s.s. He'd barely gotten over her the first time. He couldn't do it again.
Max pushed Toby out of his lap and stood. He strolled up the stairs to their bedroom, quietly shut the door behind him. Then he took out his cell phone and called Val.
She answered on the first ring. ”Hi.”
”Where are you?”
”Right outside your house, stalking you. I've been lax on my crazy ex-girlfriend duties. Making up for lost time.”
He rolled his eyes. ”You're staking out the Pana Sea, aren't you?” If she was low on leads, he guessed the best way to track Lucien down was to wait for him to return to a location she knew he frequented-like the Pana Sea.
”Margaret's been missing for twenty days,” she said, a new edge to her voice. ”Besides her mother, I'm the only person looking for her. When I find Lucien, I'm going to cut off all his fingers, one by one, until he tells me where she is.”
Max cringed. He knew she wasn't exaggerating. She must've seen some horrible things in her vision. He hoped someone had been there to comfort her, even if it couldn't be him.
He glanced at the door, huddled over his phone, and spoke in a hushed voice. ”Ginger's supposed to be flying in from Los Angeles tonight. He was going to meet us for dinner at our place, but he just called to say his flight's delayed. I checked every flight he could possibly be on. They're all on time.”
”So where is he really going?”
”Exactly. He gets in at six thirty tonight. I'm sure he'll take a taxi from the airport. You should follow it and see where he goes.”
”Okay. Where should I pick you up?”
Max hesitated. Nothing good could come of this. He should really say no. Pacing in a circle, he ran a hand through his hair and pressed his lips together. Say no, Max.
”Outside Wicked Brew,” he spat out. s.h.i.+t, he couldn't say no. He'd already promised he would help her. He couldn't back out now. He'd allow himself to see her one last time, get his fix of her, then go cold turkey and get her out of his system. After this, he was done. ”But I need to be back by eight, at the latest. I mean it.”
She laughed. ”Don't worry, Cinderella. I'll get you back before the clock strikes eight.”
”See you in twenty minutes.” He hung up, sure he was making a mistake. At least if he was with Val, he could stop her from maiming Lucien or Ginger. Maybe.
Parked at the airport's departures curb in Val's car, they caught Ginger leaving the terminal of his on-time flight. With an unusually determined spring in his step, he hopped into a cab. Max and Val were quiet as she concentrated on following the taxi from a distance that wouldn't arouse suspicion, though Max doubted Ginger was aware of his surroundings enough to notice a tail in any circ.u.mstance.
When the cab pulled up to the Pana Sea, Val hissed, ”Motherf.u.c.ker,” with a malice that made him wince. He'd never seen her with so much barely contained rage before, not even toward Norman and Delilah Barrister. For Ginger's sake, Max hoped Abby's brother was a mere patsy in Margaret's kidnapping. G.o.d help him if he wasn't.
Only three minutes later Ginger emerged from the bar holding a plain cardboard box about six inches square. He jumped back into the cab, and it pulled away.
Val gave the cab a ten-second head start, then followed. ”He usually do courier work?” she asked Max.
”I don't think so. I've never known him to do any work, honestly.”
”He and Lucien spend time together?”
”Not that I know of. But I'm not his keeper. I don't know what he does all the time.”
”How about...Michael Stevenson?”
”Nah, Stevenson's too much of a sn.o.b to be seen with Ginger. Why're you asking about Michael?”
Val shrugged. She was quiet after that. He didn't press. If it was important, she'd tell him. For close to an hour they followed the cab through rush-hour traffic to a seedier part of town, where it stopped in front of a rundown redneck bar called Billy's Roadhouse. Ginger got out, cardboard box in hand. He took a few steps toward the entrance, then stopped when someone called out to him from the adjacent parking lot. A thin, balding man wearing a pair of blue coveralls hustled over to Ginger. The two shared a quick fist-b.u.mp.
”Know that guy?” Val asked.
”No.”
The thin man admired Ginger's box, then they disappeared into the bar together. Val opened her car door to follow them inside.
Max grabbed her arm, and something that felt like electricity pa.s.sed between them at the touch of her skin, just like when she'd touched him during their first meeting at Wicked Brew. She looked at him with her storm cloudcolored eyes, face framed by her gorgeous red hair cascading down the shoulders of the leather jacket she wore, and he forgot what he was going to say. Then it came back to him.
”Don't,” he said as he forced himself to let go of her arm, to stop touching her. ”Ginger will recognize me.”
”He won't recognize me.”
”No, but you can't go in there alone. Wait until he comes out. Then we'll follow him again. The cab's still waiting for him. He won't be in there long.”
Val huffed in protest but shut the door. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and stared at the bar's entrance, while he tried to stop thinking of excuses to touch her again. After a couple of minutes of silence pa.s.sed between them, she asked, ”Have you heard of a company called Asclepius Incorporated?”
”No. Why?”
Val grabbed her tote from the backseat, pulled a manila folder stuffed with papers out of it, then dropped the folder on his lap. ”It's a company I think Lucien might have used to rent a house for a recent Blue Serpent party. I did some digging, and the only address listed for the company just happens to be where the Pana Sea is.”
Max picked through Val's case file, filled with newspaper articles, website printouts, and handwritten notes. ”Asclepius is the Greek G.o.d of medicine.”
”Okay?”
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