“We’re working on behalf of the Fairbroad family,” said Sofia. It sounded better than saying they were working for Melissa, the black widow likely to be put on trial for Nigel’s murder. “Carolyn said that Nigel used to speak to you. We were wondering if you were here the night he was killed.”
“I wasn’t. I wish I had been. Maybe I could have done something,” Dave said. “Nigel was a pretty nice guy. For a limey.”
Sofia was about to ask Dave where he had been, but stopped herself. It could have come off as accusatory, and they needed him on their side. “Did Nigel seem worried about anything? Did you see him with anyone the past few weeks?”
“Never saw him with anyone down here,” said Dave. “Though a few days before he was killed I heard him having an argument with a man on his phone.”
“You have any idea who it was or what the argument was about?” Aidan asked.
Dave shook his head. “Not a clue, but it did seem pretty heated. I remember it because Nigel was always pretty soft-spoken. Y’know a real English gent. He seemed pretty steamed about something.”
“But you don’t remember any details of his end of the conversation?” Sofia pressed.
“I try not to eavesdrop on other peoples’ conversations, young lady,” said Dave, fixing her with a steady gaze. “In the Navy, with everyone living right on top of each other, you learn to tune out stuff like that. Makes life a lot more straightforward if you don’t stick your nose into everyone else’s business.”
The last comment seemed pretty pointed. Sofia let Aidan ask Dave a few more questions about when he’d last seen Nigel, thanked Dave for his time, and walked back down the dock. Carolyn had changed into a hot-pink bikini that didn’t leave much to the imagination. She waved at Aidan as they walked past her boat and made the universal call me sign by holding her hand up to her ear, her thumb and pinkie extended.
“You going to call her?” Sofia wondered if Carolyn was exactly five foot nine.
Aidan ignored the question, waved at Carolyn, and kept walking.
28
Squinting in the sun that glinted off the water in the marina, Sofia stood at the entrance to Dolphin Bay apartment complex. She pulled up the number of the Brentwood Organic Spa and hit the green call button. “Hi, is that Leo? … Yeah, hi, Leo. I was wondering if Moonbow is available today.”
At the mention of the name Moonbow, Aidan made a jerking off gesture. For someone who had been born and raised in Southern California, Aidan was remarkably intolerant of anything even vaguely New Age. Still, Moonbow was a con man, reinvented New Age persona or not.
“He’s not?” Sofia said. She gave Aidan a thumbs-up. If he wasn’t at work, then maybe he was in his apartment.
“No, it’s okay. It was Moonbow I wanted to see… Yes, he is pretty popular. Okay, well thanks anyway. You’ve been very helpful.” Sofia killed the call before Leo could ask her any more questions or try to schedule an appointment with another masseur.
“You sure you want to do this?” said Aidan.
“I’ll be fine,” Sofia said. “What’s he gonna do? Close my chakras?”
“The guy did five years in the pen. He’ll know how to handle himself. Plus, even if he is inside, he’s going to be super edgy after Melissa was arrested.”
Part of Sofia knew Aidan had a point. Moonbow would be jumpy. As a convicted felon, if he got caught up in this, and they could stick a conspiracy charge on him, he’d been looking at a life sentence. Life without possibility of parole, even the hint of it, was enough to make anyone dangerous. At the same time, Sofia didn’t want to punk out now. This was her chance to prove herself. Not just to Brendan and Aidan, but to herself. If she was going to make a career out of this, she’d have to be prepared to take risks, including with her personal safety.
“Just trust me, okay?” she said to Aidan.
Aidan shrugged. “It’s your funeral.”
“Thanks for your kind words of encouragement.”
With Aidan waiting around the corner, next to the building’s two elevators, Sofia walked down the corridor and stopped outside apartment 412, residence of one Bobby Rogers, aka Moonbow. She knocked, and stepped back, her hands shaking with nerves.
Aidan had been reluctant to let her be the one to take a shot at talking to Moonbow. But she had persuaded him that this was the way to go. Her reasoning was that a womanizer and con artist like Moonbow was more likely to be disarmed by an attractive young woman than by an ex-cop like Aidan. If she couldn’t get anywhere, then Aidan could always try.
Sofia doubted Moonbow would open up to Aidan. Fraudsters and con artists tended to be pretty tuned in and adept at reading people, and he’d see right through Aidan. She had already decided to approach the meeting like an improv exercise. She was playing the part of Woman Interested in Opening More Than Her Chakra While Pretending She Doesn’t Know Aidan is Listening. The first part would be easy, the second not so much.
Heavy footsteps approached the apartment door. The peephole went dark, then there was the sound of two locks being thrown back and a chain being taken off. The door opened to reveal Bobby Rogers in a purple velvet tracksuit. She hadn’t seen a man who wore so much purple since she’d looked at pictures of Prince before he changed his name to a squiggly symbol.
Moonbow stared at her. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, and he was definitely on guard.
“Can I help you?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
She hoped the voice was part of his whole Moonbow persona. Con artists and fraudsters were just actors playing a role, and Moonbow was the character Bobby Rogers had created. Moonbow was a lot less violent than Bobby, so she hoped he’d stay in character.
She avoided making direct eye contact. “I don’t know if you remember me. We met the other day at the spa where you work in Brentwood. Sofia.” As she said her name she looked up at him with doe eyes.
He didn’t seem that impressed, but she forged on.
“You really opened up my chakras, and I looked up your address.” She ran the tip of her tongue slowly across her lips. “I was wondering if you could do something about my lustrous jewel. It’s been really … throbbing.”
She cringed as she delivered that last line. It was like dialogue from a really bad porn movie, but if she’d learned anything about men, it was that there was no such thing as being too obvious. With the bartender from Moonshadows, she had flirted mercilessly for weeks before he’d finally taken the hint and she’d managed to access his lustrous jewels.
He looked her up and down, but it wasn’t the kind of look she was expecting from a man she’d just propositioned. Moonbow was proving to be a hard guy to seduce, though she doubted it was because he didn’t get the subtext, but more that he had his guard up. Or maybe Melissa Fairbroad was all the woman he needed. Or he had a thing for older women. Or he just didn’t believe her and planned on doing to her what he may have done to Nigel. She took a deep breath and waited. Woman Who Needed Her Chakras Opened had said her piece.
“Okay,” he said after what seemed like an endless silence. “But it’s going to cost you. I’m four hundred for the hour. But for that, I clear everything, and I’ll polish up your lustrous jewel so that it’s box fresh.”
Cost her? She was supposed to pay him? Then the penny dropped. What he did at the spa may have been legit, okay weird, but legit, but clearly he was offering women like Melissa and now Sofia a different kind of service out of hours.
Moonbow was a gigolo. And Sofia had just propositioned him. Worse, Aidan had heard every word. This was going to make her rehab accident look like nothing.
Well, she had come this far, and it would all be for nothing if she didn’t get inside his apartment.
“That’s fine. Can I come in? I feel kind of weird talking about this while I’m standing in the corridor.”
“Sure thing,” he said, opening the door a little wider and stepping back so she could walk past.
The apartment’s decor was like a mash
up of Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me and late seventies San Fernando Valley ranch house. Purple featured heavily, as did sheepskin rugs and lava lamps. Sofia kind of had to hand it to Bobby Rogers. He’d gone for a full-on method acting approach when creating this Moonbow character. He wasn’t just playing the role—he was living it, ceiling mirrors and all. Oh my God, he actually has a mirror on the ceiling. She thought such things were the stuff of legend, but they actually existed in real life. She was glad Aidan didn’t have a camera on her, too.
Now that she was inside the apartment, she needed to stall for time, and fast.
“Could I have a glass of water?” she asked, feeling completely lame as the words came out of her mouth. Surely, if she was going to stay in character, she should have a more elaborate request. A hookah pipe. Nipple clamps. A gimp mask. Something that suggested an overly-sexed yet frustrated Hollywood type, which a glass of water, even if it was Fiji water or coconut water that had been harvested by dusky maidens in the Caribbean, kind of didn’t.
“Sure. Make yourself comfortable,” said Moonbow, disappearing into the kitchen.
“Thanks,” she called after him, glancing quickly around the living room and opening her handbag.
She crossed quickly to a purple chaise lounge. She reached down under it, feeling for a ridge or shelf. “It’s a lovely place you have here.”
When he didn’t reply, she panicked a little. Her heart was knocking against her ribs. All she needed was a few more seconds. A trickle of sweat ran down her back, but she got it done.
She straightened up as he walked back in with a glass of water that she had no intention of drinking. Who knew what he might have put in it?
“I know who you really are,” she said, planting her feet wide like she’d been taught at the boxing gym. She might have to fight her way out of the apartment, and she wasn’t sure if Aidan would get through the door in time if Moonbow got angry that he’d been duped. She imagined that con artists reacted particularly badly to being conned themselves. It was probably a matter of professional pride.
Moonbow put the glass of water down on a coffee table shaped like a kidney bean. He straightened up, clasped his hands together and cracked his knuckles. It was a gesture way more nightclub bouncer than New Age massage therapist. Bobby Rogers was coming out to play. She didn’t want to play with him, but she had to put up his guard, make him do something or her trip here wouldn’t yield the results she needed.
“So, who am I then?” Moonbow said.
“Your name is Bobby Rogers. You were born and raised in the city of brotherly love. Didn’t finish high school, did a year of community college, then found your true vocation by committing fraud and scamming people. That led to a couple of felony convictions. Your longest time down was five years. You got out, moved west, and reinvented yourself as Moonbow. A pretty good cover for a gigolo servicing frustrated housewives and divorcees of West Los Angeles.”
Moonbow listened with a smile. His eyes told a different story. They narrowed to slits, the pupils pieces of jet-black coal. His arms were loose by his side, but his hands had clenched into fists. She hadn’t been too worried about him attacking her before because it would be an incredibly dumb thing to do. Then again, criminals, even smooth ones like Moonbow, got caught because they did dumb things.
She backed up a little, making sure she had a good six feet between her and Moonbow. “I also know you are involved with Melissa Fairbroad. You’ve been having an affair.”
Moonbow raised his hands. She stepped away, the back of her legs bumping against the coffee table. She almost lost her balance and fell right onto the bean. She waited for him to strike. He didn’t. His fists unclenched, and he slowly clapped his hands.
“Bravo,” he said. “If there was a law against trying to make something of your life, I might be worried. But this is America. I paid my debt to society. As for being a gigolo, anything that happens between myself and a client is strictly between us. As soon as we become sexually involved, it’s a personal relationship, not a business one. My relationship with Melissa is none of anyone’s business except ours.”
As defenses went, it was fairly impressive. If she’d thought Moonbow would be spooked, she’d been wrong. He didn’t seem in the slightest bit troubled by Sofia knowing his true identity.
“The LA County sheriff might see it a bit differently.”
“You’re assuming they don’t already know.” Moonbow’s smile grew broader.
He was bluffing. He had to be.
“I spoke to them late last night. If you don’t believe me, then you always call them and ask. I’ll wait while you do.”
“Did you tell them you were sleeping with Melissa?” Sofia said.
“Of course I told them. They were going to find out anyway. If I’d lied, it would have made me look guilty. You can believe me or not, but I had nothing to do with what happened to Melissa’s husband.”
He seemed pretty sure of himself. Sofia would give him that much. “What were you doing that night?”
“On the night Nigel was killed, I was all tucked up in bed with someone who will swear I never left her side.”
“Melissa?” As soon as she asked the question, she felt like an idiot.
“No, not with Melissa. Let’s just say I’m pretty popular with women of a certain age and background,” said Moonbow. “I give them what their husbands can’t.”
He was clearly waiting for Sofia to ask what that was. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. It didn’t take a detective to work out what Moonbow provided to the rich housewives of Brentwood.
She started for the door. Moonbow stood his ground, making sure she would have to walk past him to reach the hallway. She tensed, her body on high alert, ready to strike out should he make a move. She kept her back to the wall, and made sure she was facing him as she pushed past. He eyed her like prey but didn’t make the slightest move.
She was at the door when he spoke. “By the way, I knew who you were when you came to the spa. So don’t leave here thinking that you got one over on me, because you didn’t.”
It could be true. It could be a bluff. She really didn’t care either way. Someone like him wasn’t going to admit that anyone had got the drop on him.
“Thanks for your time, Bobby,” she said, opening the apartment door.
His smirk fell away. “You take care now.”
It sounded like a threat.
She walked out into the corridor and closed the door behind her. Her legs felt like jelly, and her heart was still racing but she had done what she came to do.
Mission accomplished.
29
Aidan waited for her by the elevator. His jacket had ridden up a little, and his right hand rested on his gun, a .357 Smith and Wesson Magnum revolver. He pressed the call button. The elevator door opened. He stepped in and pushed the button to hold the door open for Sofia. She moved next to him.
He stared straight ahead as the elevators door closed.
She nodded toward his weapon. “Were you worried about me?”
He kept staring ahead as the elevator slowly descended to the ground floor. “I figured you and your throbbing lustrous jewel could handle themselves.”
Sofia hated to think what he’d leave on her desk at work tomorrow. “It’s a chakra term.”
“I bet it is,” he answered.
The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and they stepped back out into the apartment block’s lobby.
“Where’d you place the device?” Aidan asked as they pushed through glass doors and into the sunlight.
“Under the couch,” Sofia said. “I didn’t have time to find a better location.”
“Cool,” said Aidan, pulling out his cell, swiping across the screen and pulling up the surveillance app that linked to the tiny wireless microphone that he’d given to Sofia to place inside Moonbow’s apartment. “Everything gets sent to cloud storage, so we can either listen live or review it in the morning. We won’t be
able to use any of it as evidence, of course, but at least it might give us the inside track if he is involved with what happened to Nigel. You spooked him a little, I think, so he’ll probably reach out to his buddies.”
“I dunno, he seems pretty careful.”
Aidan shrugged. “We’ll see. Hey, can you drop me back at the office now?”
“Sure,” said Sofia as they reached her car and got in. “You in a rush?”
Aidan glanced over at her. “I have a thing later.”
“With the other Sofia?” Sofia asked, pulling the Tesla out onto Mindanao Way.
“How come you’re so fascinated with who I’m dating?” said Aidan.
“Just being polite. Showing an interest.”
“What about you?” Aidan said, changing the subject. “Is that dumb-as-rocks barman polishing your lustrous jewel?”
She refused to take the bait. “Tonight I’m having dinner with the family out in La Canada.”
Her mom had insisted that she attend. Sofia was pretty sure her mom still wasn’t convinced by her explanation of why she’d been caught urinating in public. She’d decided it was best to go and let them see she was fine. Otherwise, they’d think that she was going through some kind of life crisis.
“Lucky you,” said Aidan.
It beat another evening in with Fred the seagull and a glass of wine, but she didn’t tell Aidan that.
30
Sofia went straight back to the office and spent ten minutes checking emails and answering calls. A lady up near Zuma Beach wanted help finding a missing cat. A husband was worried that his wife, a former Playboy model (Sofia knew that because he’d mentioned it six times in the space of a four-minute voicemail message), was cheating on him and wanted Maloney Investigations to do surveillance on her the following weekend when he’d be out of town on business. Finally, there was a message from Sofia’s mom reminding her about the family dinner and asking her not to be late because she’d gone to a lot of trouble, and if the turkey was left too long in the smoker, it would get dry, and Tim (her mom’s second husband) would complain, and then she’d have to kill him, which would ruin an otherwise perfect family dinner.
A is for Actress (Malibu Mystery Book 1) Page 13
