“Hey!” She walked past the gun safe toward Aidan.
He pulled off his headphones. “Got your text, but I got a weird message when I tried to text you back. Are you sure your new phone works?”
“It’s my old phone and, no, I’m not sure it works.”
“Is that Sofia?” Brendan stood in his office door. Despite the warm day, he wore a perfectly pressed white shirt and a dark blue tie. Brendan and Bristol the butler would get along great.
She was suddenly aware of her rumpled pants and sweat-soaked shirt. Her hair was probably a disaster, too. “Reporting for duty.”
“Do you two have time for a quick rundown on the Williams case?” Brendan asked.
She and Aidan were already halfway to his office. She took a quick detour to grab three water bottles from the fridge. If Aidan and Brendan turned them down, she’d drink all three.
Brendan sat behind his desk and she snagged the comfy couch usually reserved for clients. Aidan got the interrogation chair. He shot her a dirty look, and she gave him a cheery smile and held up a water bottle. He didn’t take it, so she opened it up and drank half in a single go. The water tasted better than anything had in a long time. The long drive there with the top down had definitely dehydrated her.
“I’ll be talking to Miss Williams later today, and I’d first like to go over what we’ve ruled out.” Brendan looked at Aidan.
“Craig’s manager, Buster Taylor, doesn’t seem to be a strong suspect. He has solid long term assets and spends modestly. He retired after he took on Craig Williams, who was his last active client. He’s almost eighty, and he doesn’t seem to have any expensive vices.” Aidan paused.
Sofia was glad to hear it. Jenna liked him, and it would be a shame if she lost that friend, too.
“And?” Brendan prompted.
“Based on Jenna’s reports, Polly Coggins seems like a strong suspect. She was in debt at Waves and it looked like she might lose the entire facility. Craig’s bequest gave her enough money not only to save the center but to expand.”
“She’s opening up another rehab center?” Brendan asked.
“In San Juan Capistrano,” Sofia said. “I would have told you, but Aidan went first.”
“So, she needed the money, and she started spending it right away.” Brendan nodded to Aidan. “Please continue.”
“If we’re right, she groomed Craig to hand over his assets, and he did. He might have changed his mind later, but he was dead before he could do anything about it. Her involvement in the Rocky Hannaford case seems to indicate that this might be part of a pattern.” Aidan scowled. “I think we should send that lead to the LA County Sheriff’s Office for follow-up.”
“I already have.” Brendan tapped his fingers on his desk. “But I don’t expect them to do much. Rocky Hannaford senior was terminally ill. There is no evidence to fall back on and, even if there were, it’s a tough case to prosecute with the son supporting Mrs. Coggins.”
“One more weird thing,” Aidan said. “Gus withdraws one thousand dollars every week in cash from their joint account. I don’t know what he does with it.”
“Gambling?” Sofia asked.
“Most gamblers don’t have a budget,” Aidan said. “Whatever it was for, he stopped taking it out a few weeks before Craig died, then started again for a while and stopped when Polly put the money into the second facility.”
“It’s an interesting detail. Keep trying to find out where that money goes.” Brendan looked at Sofia. “Your turn.”
She quickly summarized what had happened at Waves, ending, “I’m concerned about Monaco Jane. It looks like Polly was buttering her up in rehab, the same as Craig. Then she got out of rehab and distanced herself from her friends and family, the same as Craig.”
“To pile on here, I did some digging on Monaco Jane and discovered that her portion of the family fortune, about twenty-four million dollars, is tied up in a trust and that she receives the money when she turns twenty-five.” Aidan leaned forward. “Tomorrow is her twenty-fifth birthday.”
Uh-oh. Sofia’s stomach got queasy. “How can we help her?”
“I’d say she’s in no danger until she makes a will. Knowing who her father is, I’d also say that the will needs to be drawn up by an experienced attorney.” Brendan sounded confident, but he looked worried.
“Maybe we could warn her.” She wasn’t sure Monaco would listen. “But she’s gone, and no one knows where she is.”
“Aidan?” Brendan asked.
“Polly and Gus Coggins own a house in Malibu, not far from the rehab center, and the center itself. That’s it.”
“We can check those out,” Sofia said.
“We’ve subcontracted surveillance to another firm, but so far there’s been little activity. Gus is off the radar. Polly sticks pretty close to home and the center. There’s no sign of Monaco,” Aidan said.
“Monaco Jane?” Brendan asked.
“Her father owns a lot of real estate,” Aidan said. “She could be in one of a dozen houses, or at a friend’s, or staying in a hotel somewhere.”
“Her father looked for her,” Sofia said. “He couldn’t find her, and said he didn’t think she was staying with family or friends.”
“I can print out a list of properties, and we can split up and check them all,” Aidan said. “I can’t think of anything better.”
“Maybe Jenna knows,” Sofia said.
“Explain,” Brendan ordered.
“She said that Craig didn’t go home, that he moved in with Polly. Maybe that’s the same place Polly would take Monaco.” She knew it wasn’t much, but it might lead somewhere.
“Good thinking.” Brendan handed her the office phone and flipped his Rolodex open to Jenna’s card. Brendan had to be the last person on Earth using a paper contacts system. “Call her and see.”
She felt them both watching as she dialed Jenna’s work number. It was like being on stage with an intensely focused audience of two. She put the call on speakerphone.
“Jenna’s!” Jenna sounded cheery but tired.
“Sofia Salgado here, from Maloney Investigations.”
“What did you find?”
“Nothing definitive.” She wasn’t sure what to tell her so she decided to say nothing and let Brendan sort it out later. “But I was wondering if you could answer a couple of questions?”
“Anything.”
Brendan and Aidan leaned closer to the phone.
“When Craig moved in with Polly, did you know where they were living?” Sofia asked.
“Thirty-eight seventeen Hacienda Drive. It was an old ranch-style house on the left side of the street.”
Sofia wrote down the address on the back of a sheet of paper. The front had a picture of a blob drawn in ink. It looked like Violet’s mug shot drawing of Aidan. She flipped the paper around so Aidan could read it.
“Polly’s house,” he mouthed, and shook his head.
That one was already covered.
“Do you know if he went anywhere else? Another house, maybe?” She crossed her fingers.
“No. It was hard enough getting that address out of him.” Jenna sighed into the phone. “If he went anywhere else, I didn’t know about it.”
Sofia had one more question, but she didn’t think it would help Monaco. “What happened to Snow Cone?”
Brendan raised his eyebrows in a question. He probably didn’t know about Snow Cone.
“Craig’s doggie?” Jenna asked. “She disappeared when he died. I’ve checked the local animal shelters because she’s microchipped. They’d probably call me if she came in, but I want to be sure.”
“Makes sense,” Sofia said.
“I’ve put up flyers, too, but no one’s called me yet. The police think she might have run off when he died, but I don’t think she’d have left his side. Not for one second. Someone took her.”
“What did the dog look like?” Sofia asked.
Brendan and Aidan were staring at her, probably wond
ering why she was wasting time. Maybe she was, but she hated to think of that cute little dog running around alone. She ignored them.
“A Bichon Frise. Small, white, fuzzy, big brown eyes. And I dyed her ears black cherry the day Craig got out of rehab, as a surprise for him because he loved that shade of red.” Jenna sounded wistful. “And because she loves being fancy.”
“Let me know if you hear anything about her.” Sofia thanked her, and got off the phone.
“No luck,” she said to Brendan and Aidan.
“I’ve already sorted Mr. Jane’s properties into three lists,” Aidan said. “You can take north, Sofia, and Dad and I will split the properties to the south, since there are more of them.”
“And keep your eye out for that dog,” Sofia said. “I think the killer took her.”
“Why would they kill a man, but balk at killing his dog?” Aidan asked.
“Snow Cone is a cute dog.” Amber had told her that Polly hated the dog. If so, maybe she hadn’t scooped her up and taken her away. Maybe poor Snow Cone had suffered the same fate as her master.
That thought made her even sadder. Snow Cone was an innocent little fur ball. She’d never hurt anyone, just loved them and made them happy. A creature like that deserved better.
CHAPTER 25
Stars dotted the sky by the time Sofia pulled into the Nirvana Cove parking lot. She’d been chased by dogs, yelled at by security guards, and almost run the Tesla into a fence when GPS had sent her the wrong way. But she hadn’t found Monaco.
Her phone rang as she turned off the engine. “Aidan? Any luck?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Dad didn’t turn up anything either.”
He sounded as discouraged as she felt. “Tomorrow is another day.”
“Maybe not for everyone,” he said.
“Yup.” She eased out of her car and took a deep breath. The sea air made her feel a little better. She was stiff from being in the car so long, and she needed to pee.
But Aidan knew the magic words. “I’m down the road from you, and I have pizza.”
“See you soon.” She jogged to her trailer, hoping to get her blood circulating again. Plus she couldn’t remember if it was clean or disastrous inside. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like she needed to impress Aidan.
Fred was happy to see her, if squawking and stomping on the porch railing meant happiness. She gave him the next to last slice of bologna. She had to go shopping soon. She’d heard that gulls slept at night, but Fred was no ordinary seagull. He had some kind of inner alarm that went off whenever she got home.
“One day, that bird will eat you.” Aidan was behind her.
Sofia jumped. Fred screeched and flashed into the air. “You said something about pizza?”
Aidan followed her inside. He whistled. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”
“What?” It looked like it always did.
“Cleaned it.”
She bopped him on the shoulder and headed into the kitchen. “I have beer.”
“No wonder that penis with legs spends so much time here.”
“His name is Jose, and I haven’t heard from him since the incident.”
Aidan flopped down on her couch. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
“I’d call it a disaster, but in the general scheme of my life’s disasters, it’s pretty minor.” She handed him a beer and the opener.
“You’re larger than life.”
“Are you calling me fat?” She flipped open the pizza box—straight up pepperoni and black olive. He was forgiven.
“We should watch that documentary on Polly and the rehab center.” Aidan took a long pull on his beer. His hair got curlier at the end of the day, and his eyes looked darker blue than usual.
She took a bite of the pizza. Chewy crust, salty pepperoni, and the tang of olives. “Maybe the film crew followed Polly somewhere that’s not on any of our lists, and that’s where she took Monaco.”
“Or something.” Aidan took a second slice of pizza. He didn’t seem to have chewed the first.
She turned on her TV, navigated through the maze of providers, and started streaming Waves of Sorrow, Waves of Joy.
It started out with Polly talking about her son, Oliver, and his struggles with drugs. She tried to keep her voice level, but it was clear her son’s addiction had hit her pretty hard. She looked older in the footage than she had when Sofia had met her.
They’d lived in Pittsburgh, where she worked as a nurse. She talked about her regrets with Oliver, how she hadn’t understood the nature of addiction or learned about it in time. She talked about early warning signs and tough love. Gus didn’t say anything. He was on camera so little that it was easy to forget Oliver had even had a father. On the few occasions he appeared, he sat tight-lipped, arms folded, and frowned every time Polly spoke. Sofia stopped the video.
“Gus doesn’t approve of the documentary.” She’d finished her pizza, and took a sip of beer. “Or Polly.”
“Maybe he’s upset about losing his son.” Aidan always wanted to argue.
“It’s more than that. Look how his body language changes when he’s onscreen with her, how he turns away when she talks, the scorn on his face. He doesn’t like Polly. Or he didn’t when they were filming this.”
“You may be right,” Aidan said.
“Could you say that again? Slowly,” she said. “I’ve never heard that before.”
“You gotta earn it.”
She gave him a look that must have worked because he went to the kitchen and brought back two more beers. She started the documentary again.
At that point Gus disappeared from the footage completely. Polly talked about Oliver’s descent into full addiction—stealing drugs from the hospital where she worked and getting her fired, disappearing for weeks and then months. She’d always wondered where he was, what he was doing to get his next fix, until a hospital in California called to say he’d OD’d and almost died. The emotion in her voice was real, and the camera lingered on her face as she struggled to maintain her composure.
Sofia felt sorry for her. She couldn’t even imagine how hard that situation would be on her own mother. No wonder she scheduled interventions at the drop of a hat. Everyone talked about the toll that addiction took on the addict, but a lot less was said about the toll on their friends and family.
Then Oliver came back home and stayed with them until he disappeared. Months later his body turned up in the Allegheny River. It was so badly decomposed that Gus had to identify his son from a tattoo on his ankle.
Gus wanted to move to Los Angeles to start over, and Polly had agreed. She had studied addiction and treatment and, eventually, they’d started up Waves. With Mr. Hannaford’s money.
“Where there’s life, there’s hope,” onscreen Polly said.
The director cut to a picture of Oliver before he’d started using.
Sofia paused on the photo. He had a dancer’s posture. “There’s something familiar about him.”
Aidan studied the photo. “He looks like his mom.”
“I think it’s more than that.” Sofia was good at recognizing faces. “I saw a picture of him as a kid in Polly’s office, so maybe that’s where I’m remembering him from.”
She tapped the remote control, and the documentary picked up with Polly standing in front of Oliver’s grave.
Someone knocked at her door.
“Expecting company?” Aidan put down his beer.
“I hope it’s not Gus again.” She stood up and went to investigate. Aidan was right behind her. She liked having backup.
When she opened the door, it wasn’t Gus. It was Jose. Backup was suddenly a problem.
“Hey there, Jose,” Aidan said. “I barely recognized you with your pants on.”
“Hello.” Jose looked between Aidan and Sofia. “Is this a bad time?”
Aidan grinned. “It’s a great time! Come right in, buddy!”
He stepped aside, and Jose came in.
“This is Aidan, from work.” Sofia stressed the last word, then felt stupid because she shouldn’t have to explain anything to Jose. They didn’t have an exclusive agreement or anything. They were bunk buddies. Okay, adult bunk buddies.
“We work very hard.” Aidan waggled his eyebrows. “Want a beer?”
“Gracias.” Jose sat down in the middle of the couch.
“Help yourself to the pizza!” Aidan called from the kitchen. “It’s still warm.”
It’s my house, Sofia said silently. She didn’t see how she could say that aloud without coming across as a jerk.
“I hope your mother was not too … shocked?” Jose looked so worried she had to let him off the hook a little.
“She’s fine.” Janet had way bigger things to worry about than seeing Jose naked.
Aidan handed him a beer. “Her mom’s pretty mellow.”
Sofia turned to look at him. Aidan had never used the word ‘mellow’ in all his life. What was he up to?
Jose helped himself to the pizza. “She seems like a very nice lady.”
“She and Sofia are close.” Aidan clinked his beer against Jose’s.
“You know Sofia and Janet well, then?” Jose asked.
“Since Sofia was practically in diapers.” Aidan smiled. “Right, Sofes?”
She wasn’t sure where this was going, but she was pretty sure she didn’t like it. “We were watching a documentary.”
“For work?” Jose had already eaten half his pizza.
“It’s related to a case we’re working on, yes.”
“You should have seen her as a little girl. She used to take off all her clothes and run around the house naked.”
Aidan must have overheard her mother telling that story because, by the time she’d met him, she was eleven. She tried to give him a warning look, but he was smiling at Jose and not looking her way at all. Probably on purpose.
“May I see this documentary?” Jose asked.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t.” Sofia stood up, hoping he would follow suit. She wanted to get him away from Aidan. “Client confidentiality.”
“It’s a public documentary,” Aidan said. “Anyone can see it.”
B is for Bad Girls (Malibu Mystery Book 2) Page 15
