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“No,” says Abbot. “I don’t have any ideas right now. Fine. Do it until we have a reason to do something else. In the meantime, I’ll talk to my contacts and see what they have to say.”
“Great.”
“I’ll also have a word with our contacts in the police department. Let’s see if we can push any investigation about last night in the wrong direction.”
“I’d appreciate it, having the heat off for a while. And being able to wear my own face.”
He sits up. Finishes his drink.
“What are you going to do with the box?”
I scratch my burned arm through my coat.
“Hide it, I guess. Do you have any ideas where? Some supersecret Honeycomb hideout?”
“I know how to make business documents disappear. Family jewels and cash too. But this? I’m stumped.”
“Me too. Normally I’d hide it in the Room of Thirteen Doors, but that’s off the menu. I’ll think of something.”
Abbot nods.
“I was hoping we’d find some evidence that perhaps Charles was getting kickbacks or family favors for steering money to Wormwood. We’re in brand-new territory now.”
“L.A. always throws something new at you. That’s why it’s fun.”
“You think this is fun?”
“Maybe ‘fun’ isn’t the right word. Maybe ‘familiar’ is better. We’re moving from your side of town to mine.”
“Where the angels live.”
“And the monsters. They’re easier to get along with than angels.”
“The fact you know that is why I wanted you on my side,” says Abbot. He looks at his watch. “However, I have a Skype in a few minutes with some people who might have some additional insight into what’s going on. I’m afraid we need to wrap things up.”
I get up. Feel the weight of the box in my pocket.
“Good luck with the espionage, boss.”
We’re walking to the door when he puts a hand on my arm. Happily, not the burned one.
“Before you go, I wanted to ask you something. Have you heard anything about the investigation into Nick’s disappearance?”
“No. Aren’t you in touch with Julie?”
“Yes, but I was wondering if you might have heard some talk around the office. Maybe something she’s not ready to share yet.”
“No. But I can ask Chihiro if you want.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate it.”
Abbot starts to walk me out onto the deck.
I say, “How hard is it to get a cab around here?”
“What happened to your car?”
“The angel murdered it.”
