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Three days later
Sammy had rented a car and left to explore the various beach communities, while Bianca and Nick had spent their time strolling along the beach, frolicking in the water, and devouring each other between the sheets. Early one afternoon enjoying coffee and croissants on the porch, he was on the phone with Cindy while Bianca was reading the MalibuTimes, when she suddenly let out a cry. As he quickly ended the call, she urgently handed him the local newspaper. An artist’s rendering of Matteus Anderson covered half a page, above it the headline,Do You Know This Man?The report stated he’d been the victim of a vicious attack, and his body had been found in rugged terrain in the canyons above Malibu.
“I have to call them,” Bianca declared, hastily reaching for his phone.
“Not so fast,” Nick said sharply. “What’s the first thing you’ll be asked after you tell them who he is?”
“Probably if he has any family they can contact.”
“No, they’ll ask how you know him and when you last saw him,” Nick said solemnly. “What will you say?”
“Shit, I see your point,” she muttered, then taking a breath, she added, “Nick, I’m starting to feel really weird. He would never have come here if—”
“Bianca, Matt was living on borrowed time,” he said gravely, cutting her off, “and I don’t just mean his angina. He was looking for a quick buck and a way to end his days in luxury. Ultimately he would have crossed the wrong people just like he crossed your father and ended up the same way.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Sure I do. Things never end well for people like Matt who live on both sides of the law. You know I’m right.”
“Yeah, I do,” she murmured with a heavy sigh.
“It’s time to head to my condo in Beverly Hills. I need to get back to work, and Matt will be big news here for a while. You don’t need any reminders of the chaos you just went through.”
“I do love it here, but I agree. I’ll call Sammy and see how things are going. When I spoke to him yesterday, he said he was staying in Venice for a few more days before heading further south. Maybe we can meet up.”
“Sounds like a plan. You start packing. I need to make a couple of calls myself.”
“Okay, thanks, Nick.”
As she pecked him on the cheek and walked inside, he knew she was still troubled, but it would pass, and a change of scenery would help. Waiting until she was out of earshot, he picked up his phone and called Lorenzo.
“Nicholas,” Lorenzo said, answering on the first ring. “How is everything?”
“Fine, sir, but there’s an interesting article in this week’s MalibuTimes. I thought you might want to check it out online. They have a website. I’ll text you the link.”
“Ah, I see. How’s my daughter?”
“Doing well. We’re leaving for my condo in Beverly Hills today. It’s time for a change of scenery.”
“Good idea.”
“But I won’t keep you, sir, I just wanted to give you the update.”
“Thank you. I’ll get in touch with her soon.”
Ending the call and gazing out at the calm ocean, Nick flashed back to the moment Bianca had waded through the rough surf and desperately begged for his help. Matteus had approached, and Nick thought he’d looked like a thug who had lost one too many fights. A sudden chill pricked Nick’s skin. That’s who Matteus Anderson had been, and how he’d died.
* * *
Big Mike had been taken to a private mental health institution, and when Lorenzo was called with the toxicology report, he’d found it deeply troubling. There were traces of hallucinogenic drugs in Mike’s system. Everyone knew he didn’t drink, and he’d made no secret of his belief drugs were a scourge on the earth. Alfredo had been tasked with getting to the bottom of the mystery. After tirelessly interrogating every informer on the street and pursuing every lead, he finally had answers.
“Tell me,” Lorenzo said briskly the moment his son walked in the door.
“It was a small-time dealer named Alan Graham. He also sold Mike those phone-cloning devices,” Alfredo said, sitting down in front of his father’s desk. “But there’s more, and you need to prepare yourself, Dad. Roland had been blackmailing Alan, something to do with a deal gone bad. Alan was too scared to do anything about it himself, so he started giving Mike low doses of some crazy ass drug, and over time, he convinced him Roland was a demon who had to be killed.”
Lorenzo felt his blood boil, and silently cursed himself for not seeing Roland’s traitorous soul.
“Bianca used to say he was a creep and couldn’t be trusted,” Alfredo remarked. “I used to tell her she was crazy, but she was right all along.”
