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"Hmm? Yes, of course."
Which proved she was paying no attention at all. A middle-aged shlub brushed his hand across her ass on the way out and she was so distracted that she didn't say a word. Nor did she even seem to notice when I veered off track to discreetly return the dog-collar bracelet to the table where she'd found it.
"Okay, what's up?" I said as we stepped onto the sidewalk. "You know that guy in the photo, don't you?"
"He's the man you met? The one who was in charge of the group?"
"Um, yes. It's all in my report. You did read my report, right?"
"I skimmed it. Aaron mentioned something about the leader possibly being a vampire, but he said you'd vetoed the idea, so it didn't concern us. That was the man, though, wasn't it?"
"He's not a vampire. Warm skin. Breathing. Didn't try to charm me, which would have made things easier. The only reason I suspected vampirism was because Roni hinted he'd been around a long time. Oh, and I met Anita Barrington, too. She's the woman who called herself Althea."
I paused. "Gary Schmidt said something about immortality. If Anita Barrington is a key member of this movement, that must mean something. Maybe they're promising their followers immortality, which is bullshit, but--"
I noticed Cassandra had fallen a few paces behind me. I turned. "Cass?"
"What was the man's name?"
"Giles."
"Last name?"
I shrugged. "Didn't get one. So you know him? He's not a vampire, is he?"
"I . . . don't know."
"Okay. Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"Not yet."
I stopped and turned to her. "I'm your partner here, Cass. If Lucas brought me here, obviously he--"
"--trusts you to uncover the truth. Which is exactly why I'm not sharing this with you. I need to verify a few things first, and we need to finish helping Lucas with that little boy's disappearance before we launch into something new. You look into this bodyguard situation, while I make a few calls."
twenty-nine
Great plan. Except I wasn't sure how to look into the bodyguard situation. I guess Lucas wanted me to check out the possibility that Frankie Salas was in desperate need of cash, so desperate that he'd betray the Cabal.
I liked that explanation. It exonerated Bryce. Unfortunately, I'd already forwarded Salas's details to Paige, and she'd sent back a clean bill of financial health. He rented an apartment that fit well within his means. He had a reasonable loan on his car, and he paid it every month. His credit history was clean. If this guy owed money, it was for something less legitimate--drugs, gambling, women. But if he was that kind of guy, he'd never have made it through the background checks to become Bryce's bodyguard.
The only other thing was to search Salas's apartment, in hopes that if he was involved in Larsen's kidnapping, he'd have left evidence there. People do that all the time, even smart people. Home is private. Home is safe. At least until a squad of cops shows up with a search warrant.
So I called Troy and asked him what I could expect in the way of security.
"The only thing my place has is a cat," he said. "And she's not even mine. Just a stray that lives in the garage and would probably follow a thief home. I spend most of my days guarding Mr. Cortez and most of my nights sleeping at his place. Even guys who are home more don't bother. They're bodyguards. It looks bad if they think they need high-tech security."
"Don't they need to protect their stuff?"
"Not much there if you're a career bodyguard. Definitely not Cabal secrets. We don't get a lot of paperwork. Well, yeah, I do, but that's because I'm in charge of the guard staff, and you can be sure on my rare days off, I'm not taking it home. Anyway, bodyguards aren't privy to Cabal secrets."
"Like hell," I said. "I bet you know more than anyone in the company, including Benicio."
He laughed. "Why do you think he keeps me around? But you can also bet I'm not writing anything down. It all stays in my head, where it belongs."
Which is what made him the best bodyguard in the business. And hopefully one who knew what he was talking about when it came to other bodyguards.
Cassandra was so lost in thought that when I stopped outside Salas's apartment building, it was like she snapped out of a daze, exclaiming, "Is this it? Are we prepared? Shouldn't you have tools?"
