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“What was her name?” I ask.
He frowns.
“I can’t remember. My secretary would know.”
“What did she hire you to do?”
“She wanted us to renovate and restore an old commercial site in the Hollywood Hills. It was a big job, too. There was extensive fire damage, but she wanted us to fix it rather than tear it down. It was something historic. An old gentlemen’s club. That I remember. It’s not a phrase you hear too often these days.”
I put down my coffee and Vidocq picks up his. Candy and I look at each other.
“Did she tell you the name of the club?”
“Maybe. I don’t remember.”
“Was it Avila?”
K.W. smiles.
“Yes, that’s it. How did you know?”
The human brain is a very funny thing, and because of that, it can do very funny things to the human body. Take mine right now. My heartbeat just doubled. All my senses are cranked up to eleven. Even the angel in my head feels it. I hear Jen’s breathing change. She knows my question and K.W.’s answer are important. I smell K.W. starting to sweat. He gets it that something he’s said is connected to Hunter’s disappearance. Vidocq and Candy are plain excited and trying not to show it. I’m as excited as any of them, but I feel cold, too. Like someone cracked open my chest and dumped a bucket of ice inside. But I don’t show any of it. This is basic stuff. I could have had this information yesterday if I hadn’t let the TJ thing get to me. But I guess getting to me has been the idea all along.
“How did you know the club’s name?”
I sip my coffee. The room is practically vibrating from the tension. Candy is a furnace. She wants to run out and start gnawing on bad guys or the coyotes in the hills. Something.
“A lucky guess.”
“I’ll call the office and get you the woman’s number.”
I shake my head.
“Don’t bother. It’ll be turned off and she won’t use it again.”
Jen says, “You know who it is, don’t you?”
“No,” I say. It’s the truth. I don’t know. But yes, I know.
“I have an idea, but I don’t want us to start getting ahead of ourselves.”
The three of us get up and head for the door. The Sentenzas don’t show us out this time. They stay in their bright and familiar kitchen, huddled there like the house is the Titanic and the serving island is the last lifeboat afloat.
Jen calls after us.
“What can we do?”
“Stay by the phone,” I yell over my shoulder.
WHEN WE GET to Allegra’s car, I say, “I’m driving,” and Vidocq doesn’t argue.
We get in and I tell the other two, “Get out your cells. You’re going to make calls.”
I start the car and back out of the driveway. I’m driving slow. Concentrating. I know what to do and I want to get to doing it, but I need to set it up right.
We head for the Golden State Freeway, but it’s bumper-to-bumper, so I turn the car and we head to the city on surface streets.
I tell Candy, “Call Allegra. Tell her to clear out all the diaper-rash and splinter patients. We’re bringing in a special case.”
