Brad Thor - Full Black

“If this is about cozying you up to one of my firm’s clients to help you get some movie deal, I swear to God I’ll make good on my promise to kill you. Do you understand that?”

“It’s not about business. I’m in trouble.”

“If you need a lawyer, you’ve come to the wrong place,” replied Alisa. “You’ll have to find somebody else.”

“No,” said Ralston. “I don’t need a lawyer. At least not yet.”

She had no idea what was going on, but he definitely had her attention. “What have you done?”

“I’ll explain it when I see you.”

“Oh? Just like that we’re having a meeting?” she replied. “Sorry, I’m booked.”

“Damn it, Ali. This is serious.”

“What this is, Luke, is my time, which gets billed at eight hundred and seventy-five dollars an hour. At least, that’s what I get paid when I am working, which is what I was doing before you called pretending to be from my children’s school and pulled me away from my client and a very important negotiation I’m trying to hammer out for her.”

Ralston decided he was going to have to give her something to get her to meet with him. And as strained as their relationship had been, she was the closest thing to family he had. “Did you hear what happened at Larry Salomon’s house?”

“Did I hear about it? Everyone’s heard about it. It’s all people in this town are talking about this morning. Why would you ask me,” she said, her voice suddenly trailing off. “Tell me you had nothing to do with what took place at Salomon’s house.”

“I need to see you. I need a favor.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Ali, please,” he said. “I need to see you.”

“Did you kill those people?”

“No comment.”

“No comment?” she replied. “Oh, my God.”

“Ali, come on.”

“What happened to Salomon?”

“He’s fine,” said Ralston. “He’s with me. He can vouch for everything.”

“Then I suggest you two turn yourselves in to the police. Pronto.”

“We can’t. At least not yet. That’s what I need to talk to you about.”

Alisa was quiet as she thought about how to handle it.

“Are you still there?” Ralston asked.

“Quiet,” she replied. “I’m thinking.”

Ralston remained quiet.

“Where are you?” she finally asked. “Are you somewhere in L.A.?”

Ralston was hesitant about answering, but realized he was going to have to trust her. “We’re south.”

“How far south? San Diego? Mexico City?”

He decided that for the time being it was better for all involved if he didn’t give her too much information. Until he knew for sure that she was on his side, he was going to be very careful. After all, she had promised to kill him. And though he doubted that she really meant it, there was still part of him that knew better than to cross her, or her father. “Can you get down to Manhattan Beach?” he asked, picking a quiet beach community just north of where he was.

“Well, you certainly can’t come up and meet me in my office, can you?”

It was a rhetorical question that Ralston didn’t need to answer. “How soon can you be there?”

Alisa checked her watch. “I’ll have to figure out what to tell my client and cancel the rest of my appointments. Depending on traffic, I can probably be there in about an hour.”

They picked a place to meet and Ralston said, “Thank you. I really appreciate your doing this for me.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. Wait till you get my bill. I charge double for travel.”

Ralston printed Alisa’s picture from her law firm’s website and gave it to Hank, who made the short hop up to Manhattan Beach to make sure she wasn’t being followed.

He sat across the street from a small shop on Manhattan Beach Boulevard called Barbie K. Wearing what he referred to as his retired man’s formal attire-flip-flops, T-shirt, and a pair of board shorts-he fit right in with the rest of the locals.

Ralston had picked the small boutique off the Internet and told Alisa that there would be an envelope waiting for her when she got there. She wasn’t crazy about all the cloak-and-dagger, but she had agreed.

Ralston figured his picture had to already be circulating with the police. It was only a matter of time before it wound up on the news and he was named as a “person of interest.” The last thing he wanted was to meet Alisa anywhere near a television set or where a police car might roll by. Fortunately, California offered the perfect place for them to meet and talk without being disturbed.

Knowing what a fashionista Alisa was, especially when it came to her shoes, Ralston had written a note telling her what to buy and where to meet him, and then had Hank leave it with one of the salesgirls at the boutique. Forty-five minutes later, Alisa showed up.

Fifteen minutes after that, she exited the store wearing a new, much more casual outfit and a sensible pair of shoes. Hank followed her from across the street and watched as she walked back to her car, popped the trunk, and deposited the shopping bag with the business attire and highheeled shoes she had driven down from L.A. in.

To her credit, she didn’t pull the note back out of her pocket. She knew where she was supposed to go next.

The street ran downhill toward the ocean, and it was easy for Hank to hang back and watch. Convinced that she was not being followed, he pulled out his cell phone when she got to the little restaurant and called his house. Ralston answered on the first ring.

“She’s clean,” he said. “I’ll see you in five.”

Ralston had not wanted to leave Salomon alone. He was still sleeping, but Ralston was afraid of what he might do if he woke up and no one was there. He might rationalize a quick call or email to his office and then all hell would break loose.

When Hank got back, he described what Alisa was wearing and then handed over the keys to his car. Ralston had borrowed a change of clothes from his friend, plus a baseball cap and sunglasses.

Hank gave him ten minutes and then picked up his phone. Dialing *67 to block caller ID, he described Alisa to the hostess and asked if she could bring her to the phone. As it was midafternoon, it didn’t take long to track her down.

“The beach should be very nice right now,” he said, “especially south of the pier.” Then he hung up.

Alisa went back to her table, paid for her Diet Coke, and left the restaurant. She walked the block and a half down to the beach and stepped onto the sand. The weather had been nice for several days. It was sunny and the sand was warm. She didn’t visit the beach normally at this time of year. In fact, she didn’t visit the beach much at all. Between the kids and work, she didn’t seem to have much time.

Owing to the unusually nice weather, there were more people out than she would have expected. Only in California, she thought, could this many people avoid work in the middle of the week. She looked around for Luke, but she didn’t see him, so she continued walking toward the water.

The waves were a decent size and there were dozens of surfers bobbing up and down in the ocean, waiting for the next one to carry them in.

At the water’s edge, she removed her sandals. It felt good to be barefoot. She watched as a nice wave began to form and the surfers paddled hard to catch it. Tilting up her face, she stood for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun.

She had no idea Ralston was standing behind her until he spoke. “Hello, Ali.”

Alisa didn’t turn around. She wasn’t ready yet. She stayed where she was, her face upturned to the sun. “When you close your eyes and listen to the sound of the ocean, it’s hard to imagine there’s anything wrong in the world.”