As he looked at the house he’d bought for Lexi, it still felt so foreign. Not necessarily because it wasn’t Kentucky. Or because it wasn’t Las Vegas where he’d lived for three years before they murdered his wife. But because it wasn’t that eight-by-eight cell. He purposely gave Lexi the master bedroom. Not as a kind gesture toward his daughter, but because the guest bedroom was much smaller, even though it was still too damn big. And he hadn’t slept one good night since they had moved in. Not since he’d been released from prison actually. Lawson never thought acclimating to being free would be so difficult. But it was.
On the run he was able to organize his thoughts. He had a busy day ahead, one that would need answers to a lot of questions. He needed to have a chat with Victoria Marshall. If she needed security before, it was even more imperative now. Whoever sent in Clint Hues to try to bully her more than likely still wanted what they wanted. But Lawson believed they would be even less civil now in their second attempt. Which led him to the questions that needed to be answered: Who hired Clint Hues, and what did this person want from Victoria Marshall? Victoria should be able to enlighten Lawson on both. If she didn’t, he could no longer be of service to her. He had no time to deal with vague details or misinformation.
The next thing he needed to know was what the FBI knew and what they might want from him, just in case they came asking about the video from the bar. When Cassie told him Frank Shaw had called her, his stomach turned. Not only was it bad that Lawson was on the FBI’s radar, but Frank Shaw wasn’t exactly his best friend back in Vegas. When Cassie and Lawson had moved up the director’s chart of go-to agents for the big cases, there were a lot of people in the Vegas division who didn’t like it. But Frank Shaw had been the most vocal. And before Lawson was framed for murder and went away, his relationship with Frank had been at an all-time low. Lawson imagined his trouble at the bar the other night would jump straight to the top of Frank’s to-do list.
All of that and more needed to be accomplished today. It would be the only way Lawson would feel good about coming home to his daughter. Her safety was all he cared about. The biggest wild card in all of it was Clint Hues and how he was going to retaliate. It wasn’t a matter of if he would, but when. Lawson had a mind to think being proactive and reaching out to him first might be the way to go. But right now, he had to handle this situation with Taylor. With all he had going on, there was no way he could further bury himself in trouble with what she had going on. No matter if it would help Cassie’s private investigation firm, no matter how much Lexi looked up to Taylor, and no matter how beautiful she was, he just couldn’t take it on.
But wow was she beautiful.
Lawson looked through the large front window and could see Taylor doing something in the kitchen while she was talking to Lexi, who sat at the adjacent dining room table. Lexi’s grin was ear to ear. This was trouble. Lexi hadn’t made a lot of friends since they’d moved to Los Angeles. And he knew that she was missing some female camaraderie. That was apparent any time Cassie would come over. Lexi stuck to her like glue. Letting Taylor stick around had been a mistake. And letting Lexi think he was going to help her, and that she would be hanging around the house for a while, was an even bigger one. He had to move this along today. Before Lexi got too attached.
He lingered watching for a moment longer. Taylor was in a pair of Lexi’s oversized pajama pants. They were a little small so they hugged tight. He could see the patched wound on her shoulder because of the tank top she was wearing. The tank top also showed off her natural curves. Lawson hadn’t been with a woman since he lost his wife eleven years ago. And he could feel it making him weak as he stood there watching Taylor interact with his daughter. The way he imagined Lauren would be if she was still with them.
Lexi looked over at the window, saw Lawson standing there and excitedly waved him in. He buried the swirl of his desire for Taylor and the longing for Lauren, and walked inside. Lexi got up and ran over to him.
“Dad, you won’t believe what Taylor said she would do. She said because we were nice enough to help her that she would read lines with me and teach me how to be a better actress! Can you believe that?”
His mistake of letting Taylor stay had become a complete disaster. The excitement in his daughter’s eyes at that moment was more than he’d ever seen. Granted, he had missed ten years of her life, but right now she was over the moon. Lawson feared he now had no choice in the matter. He could disappoint Taylor, she was just a good-looking stranger. But Lexi? He’d rather die than disappoint her.
“That’s good, sweetheart.”
It was all the enthusiasm he could work up knowing how hard it was going to make his life having Taylor stay. He walked over to the kitchen and excused himself around Taylor to grab a towel to wipe his sweat. She smelled like a fresh shower. And he noticed that she didn’t hurry to take her eyes off him. The feeling she was giving him was something he hadn’t felt in a long time. And he didn’t like it.
“Good? That’s all you’ve got, Dad? Good?” Lexi walked over to the opposite side of the center island. “Dad, this is like Lebron James offering to teach you how to play basketball. Like Roger Federer teaching you how to play tennis. Like—”
“All right, Lexi. I get it. I agree. It’s a big deal.” Then to Taylor. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
“You kidding me?” Taylor said. “It’s the least I can do. I’d be on every news station in the country right now if it wasn’t for you.”
Lawson might have underestimated how well-known Taylor was. Between Cassie’s and Lexi’s reactions and Taylor’s relentless need to keep all of this private, he felt like he had the queen of England at his house. He was going to have to familiarize himself a little better to know what he was dealing with. He knew he was out of touch with pop culture; ten years in a federal penitentiary will do that. But they all were making him think he was from another planet.
Maybe they weren’t that far off.
“Well, you and I need to talk, but I’ve got a few things to do today if you don’t mind staying here and watching Lexi.”
“Dad, I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Oh, I’m not a babysitter, Lexi. I’m your new acting coach.”
Taylor gave Lexi a wink and a smile. Lexi’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. And the only thing Lawson could do was think about the shitstorm the last couple of days had created, and how he had no idea how the hell he was going to come out unscathed.
9
“I need your help.”
It was the last thing Lawson wanted to say to Cassie that morning, but there was just no way around it.
“More help? What happened?”
“What hasn’t happened?”
“Been a long couple days. Did Eric make it there yet?”
Lawson stepped out into the garage. He didn’t want Taylor or Lexi to hear this conversation. He hit the button and the garage door opened. A black Chevy Malibu was sitting on the side of the road just outside his driveway.
“Chevy Malibu?” Lawson said.
“That’s him. He won’t let anyone in or out.”
“Thank you.”
Lawson had texted Cassie when he first woke up that he needed someone to watch the house. He didn’t even know Taylor, there was no way he was going to leave his most prized possession alone in her care. An off-duty officer made him feel a lot better about going out and running his errands.
Cassie said, “So what do you need? I thought Big Bad Lawson Raines could do this on his own. What do you need a PI firm for?”
“If you’re going to keep harping on this, I’ll find someone else to help. You know full well I can’t be a private investigator until my record is cleared. So drop it.”
“Just get it cleared already. I don’t understand what is taking so long. You received a full pardon. Make some calls and get it done.”
Lawson had had enough. “I’ve got to go. Just check on Lexi periodically, would you?”
“Don’t be like that. You know I just want you to clear all this up so you can actually do some legitimate work.”
“I need more information about Taylor Lockhart.”
“Yeah?” Cassie said. Lawson could hear her smiling. “I saw the way Lexi looked at her so I had a feeling you might be asking that. I’ll email over what I have.”
Lawson was lucky to have Cassie. She was an all-star, and he needed to make use of her. Especially since she was so enthusiastic about Taylor as it was.
“You know I can’t pay you,” he said.
“I’m also going to get to work on seeing if I have some contacts that can push your paperwork through. We’ve got to get you cleared so you can actually get paid to work. If you’ve already blown through the money we found in De Luca’s wall—”
“Thank you, Cassie,” Lawson interrupted. “I know I’m not the best at this friend thing anymore—”
“Don’t worry about it. Just let me know what you need. I’m only working some small-time case right now. I’m mostly free. What are you doing right now?”
“Going to see Victoria Marshall. It’s time we had a come-to-Jesus meeting.”
“Need me to look up Clint Hues? See if I can find out who he’s working for?”
“I’ve got to get going,” Lawson said. He still had trouble asking for help.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Cassie said, letting him off the hook. “This would be a lot easier if you would just open up.”
“Let me know what you find out. Just be careful when you’re digging. Try not to let on that anyone wants to know.”
“You’re welcome.”
Lawson ended the call. It felt like pulling his own teeth to ask for help. He didn’t know why it was so hard for him. But it really was. He unlocked the door and got in his Nissan Maxima. He had really wanted to buy a 1967 Shelby Mustang GT 500 with some of the money they took from De Luca’s stash. But as he pulled away from the house that he’d spent most of that money on, he was glad he went practical on the car. Because if he didn’t have enough problems already, money getting tight wasn’t making things easier. The only reason he was dealing with this Victoria Marshall stuff was because he needed to start making some money. He just hoped it wasn’t going to be much more trouble than it was worth.
On the way out of his driveway he gave Eric, the officer watching his house, a nod and a wave. As he wound down the hill that led out into West Hollywood, he cracked the window to let in some fresh air. It was another beautiful Southern California day. The rays of sun filtered through the swaying leaves of the palm trees as the breeze blew through. The sky was a bright blue . . . once you looked above the layer of smog, that is. And the traffic had already begun to swell. Lawson didn’t really understand the appeal of the big city. But he also wasn’t much of an out-and-about kind of guy. And if you weren’t an out-and-about kind of guy, a big city was nothing but a colossal inconvenience.
As he turned onto Sunset Boulevard, heading toward Wilshire for Victoria’s office, his phone began to ring. He didn’t recognize the number. But then again, he didn’t really associate with anyone but Cassie anymore, so how would he?
“Hello?”
“Lawson Raines,” a man’s voice replied, low and gravelly. “It’s been a long time.”
Lawson had no idea who it was. “Has it?”
He turned right on Wilshire. Traffic was moving pretty well for a work morning.
“About eleven years, I guess.”
It clicked. “Frank Shaw. It has been a while. You still sound like you’re gargling rocks. Must have never quit smoking.”
“And you’re still a prick, Raines. Some things never change.”
Lawson didn’t have time for this. “Well, good catching up with you, Frank. Have a nice life.”
“Now, hold on, Raines. I’m calling to help you. From the looks of things, you could use it.”
If asking Cassie for help felt like pulling teeth, Frank Shaw even thinking Lawson would need him was like an anvil to the nuts.
“The day I need your help, Frank, is the day the world ends. And why would you want to help me now anyway? You were nowhere to be found when they pinned my wife’s murder on me.”
“Now, you know I’m real sorry about how all that went down. But there was nothing I could do. You had the DA and most of Las Vegas PD running you down. I tried to—”
“Good-bye, Frank.”
Lawson put his phone on the console and turned into Victoria’s office parking lot. He couldn’t listen to that asshole for one more second. Now all he could hear was Cassie’s voice in his head, telling him he should make good with Frank. Make an ally out of him instead of an enemy, because you need all the friends you can get right now. He even heard her Tennessee accent too. If Lawson didn’t have his own conscience, he certainly didn’t want Cassie’s. Even though she was probably right. Still, not Frank Shaw. He would go a hundred extra miles to avoid getting “help” from him.
10
Just a couple blocks down the street from Victoria Marshall’s office, Marty Sloan was just arriving at his own. There were several upcoming movie projects that needed tending to, but he had a bigger problem brewing in one of his even more profitable businesses. The one he’d inherited from his father, and the one that paved the way for him to be able to make movies in the first place. He had intended to get out of the drug trade once the movies took off, but the money was still too good to pass up. You make one bad movie, it can ruin you. You sell some bad drugs and a couple lowlifes might die from it, but no one cares. You keep feeding your family.
The problem he was having was that a cartel had moved in on some of his territory in Venice Beach. The solution was obvious, at least it would have been from his father’s perspective. Kill the men selling in your area, and be ready for war if that’s what it takes to run them out of town. But Marty, even though he was now the same age as his father when he started the business—fifty one—was nothing like his father. Their only similarity was they both would do anything for their family. It drove both men’s every decision. For his father, he used violence because he believed it kept his family safe. But Marty believed using your brain was a better way in almost every case. And it kept people from snooping around and possibly interfering with his movie business.
He didn’t like having these sorts of meetings at his production office, but he would no longer have them at his home. He’d already brought enough scumbags around his son. He didn’t want his son inheriting, or even knowing about, this business. There was no pride in it for him. Movies would be his legacy.
He walked into his office, and his two main Southern California underbosses were sitting in front of his desk. This was going to be a short meeting; problems with movie production were Sloan’s focus today.
“All right, let’s have it. Marcos, you first.”
Marcos had been around as long as his father. Marcos was always pushing Sloan to use more force. His old-school mentality clashed with Sloan’s most every time. “One of my foxes was shot and killed last night. She was getting close to our new enemies in Venice, and I guess they found out about her. I’m sending four of my best in after this little nuisance.”
“No, let’s cut off their supply and run them out,” Sloan said.
“Don’t do this. Not here. One of our own was shot. You know we have to hit back harder. If we don’t, we will lose Venice.”
Sloan knew Marcos was right. He didn’t like it, but killing can only be retaliated with killing. Otherwise, word would get around and they would be run out of Los Angeles entirely.
“Keep it quiet,” Sloan said.
“Always.”
“Speaking of keeping things quiet,” the second underboss spoke up. He went by the name Gallo. Sloan didn’t even know his real name, and he’d known him for almost a decade. He was much younger than Marcos, and even more brazen. Sloan was constantly having to reel him in. But he was loyal and always did whatever he was asked to do. “I found out
who interfered with Clint at the bar the other night.”
“What’s he talking about?” Marcos asked.
Sloan ignored Marcos. “You know where he is?”
“Yes, boss.”
“We have someone watching him?”
“I did exactly as you asked.”
“You’re sure? I need to know who he’s working for.”
“I have been doing this a long time. If I tell you I’m sure, you can bet on it.”
Marcos stood. “What is this? What is he talking about, Sloan?”
“This doesn’t concern you, Marcos.”
“Everything we do concerns me. If it’s a rival gang involved, I need to have men ready for retaliation.”
“Calm down. There won’t be any retaliation. This isn’t related to the business.”
Marcos scoffed. He put his hands on his hips, just below his bulging stomach. “I don’t know why you insist on this movie business. Sure, it’s a great front, but involving my men in whatever the hell you’ve got going on is dangerous. You don’t see how—”
It was Sloan’s turn to stand. “That’s enough. I said it doesn’t concern you. Is that clear?”
Marcos stared for a moment. Sloan could tell a protest was on the tip of his tongue. “Your father would say the same thing I’m saying. I’m just trying to make sure everything keeps running smooth.”
“My father’s not here. I am. This is my business. You have enough problems to worry about, Marcos. So go worry about them.”
Marcos didn’t say another word. He left, and Marty was alone with Gallo.
Marty brought it back to the subject at hand. “So we’ll know his every move then?”
“Every move.”
Shooting Star Page 4
