move will come to you.”
“You’ve been living in California too long.” She replied.
“It’ll grow on you.”
“Do I have to take yoga and meditate?”
“Stop ducking. That’s what I got. You in?”
“I’m kind of over it with bossy men right now.”
“I just want to help. And you already know you definitely can’t go back to that.”
She poked at her salad, considering his offer.
“I know. And I appreciate the thought. I really do, bro.” She replied. “But I still have my place in New York. I can’t just walk away from that. “ She offered as her last line of defense.
“Wow. That’s a tough one. How about renting it?” He playfully shot back.
She continued to mull it over.
“C’mon. You’ve got nothing else going right now. What’ve you got to lose?”
She let the breeze catch her face again, allowing it to push back strands of hair from her face, all the while listening to the roar of the waves in the distance.
She turned back to her brother.
“What the hell. Why not.” She finally agreed. “I place my life in your hands.” She continued, mock wary.
“Awesome. We’ll start looking for a new place tomorrow. But tonight- “
“Not tonight- “
“Tonight, there’s a new club I’ve heard about. It’ll be perfect.”
“Ben…”
“I’ll get done my shift early. We’ll roll out at midnight. Be ready. Doll up strong, it’s a pretty hot place.”
“Doll up strong…?”
“Just be ready. It’s going to be fun.”
“Just don’t get us arrested.” She added, trying not to smile, actually starting to eat her salad. Her brother always knew what to say, what to do to change her mood, and for the first time in a long time, she felt genuinely excited.
The phone in her purse started to vibrate, loud enough for both of them to hear. They both paused and he watched as she reached down to the bag next to her feet, pulled the phone free, and checked the caller ID. It was Michael. Her heart sunk, the anger, the hurt suddenly fresh and real all over again.
“Maybe you should take it.” Ben suggested.
She stared at the phone a moment before she pursed her lips with determination, and with a brief shake of her head, she declined the call and dropped the phone back in her purse.
“No. Not yet.”
She looked at her brother, a wry smile on her face.
“I hope you have some cute friends, ‘cause I’m dollin’ up way strong.”
SIX
CANVASSING
“N ope. Never seen him before.” Said the grey haired black man defiantly, before shuffling off down Union Street, towards the homeless shelter. His clothes were worn and ragged, and the smell and stain of many months of wear without wash caused Agent Stern to recoil.
“Why the hell are we askin’ these guys?” He braced Wolfe, as he put the artists’ sketch of Luthecker back in his folder, watching as the latest person to refuse to look at the picture disappeared around the busy street corner.
“Because these guys, they’re the eyes and ears. Nothing happens on the street, that they don’t see or hear about.” Wolfe replied.
“Homeless people? Gangbangers? They’re not gonna tell us shit. They protect one another. You know that, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are we wasting our time? This is fucking beat cop work.”
Stern scanned the streets of down town Los Angeles. Becoming more and more gentrified, the mixture of Staples Center Arena neon and the silver steel curve-linear design of the Disney Hall amphitheatre contrasted with the turn of the century Union Station train stop architecture and homeless shantytowns that ran through the alleys, all of which lay in the shadow of the steel and glass high rises.
“Just be thankful it’s not Iraq.” Wolfe replied.
Stern looked at him.
“Where you’d be getting shot at. And you’re getting paid a helluva a lot more than a beat cop.”
“It still sucks. And I don’t the mind shooting, long as I can shoot back.” Stern replied.
“Does that jarhead
“You’ve been living in California too long.” She replied.
“It’ll grow on you.”
“Do I have to take yoga and meditate?”
“Stop ducking. That’s what I got. You in?”
“I’m kind of over it with bossy men right now.”
“I just want to help. And you already know you definitely can’t go back to that.”
She poked at her salad, considering his offer.
“I know. And I appreciate the thought. I really do, bro.” She replied. “But I still have my place in New York. I can’t just walk away from that. “ She offered as her last line of defense.
“Wow. That’s a tough one. How about renting it?” He playfully shot back.
She continued to mull it over.
“C’mon. You’ve got nothing else going right now. What’ve you got to lose?”
She let the breeze catch her face again, allowing it to push back strands of hair from her face, all the while listening to the roar of the waves in the distance.
She turned back to her brother.
“What the hell. Why not.” She finally agreed. “I place my life in your hands.” She continued, mock wary.
“Awesome. We’ll start looking for a new place tomorrow. But tonight- “
“Not tonight- “
“Tonight, there’s a new club I’ve heard about. It’ll be perfect.”
“Ben…”
“I’ll get done my shift early. We’ll roll out at midnight. Be ready. Doll up strong, it’s a pretty hot place.”
“Doll up strong…?”
“Just be ready. It’s going to be fun.”
“Just don’t get us arrested.” She added, trying not to smile, actually starting to eat her salad. Her brother always knew what to say, what to do to change her mood, and for the first time in a long time, she felt genuinely excited.
The phone in her purse started to vibrate, loud enough for both of them to hear. They both paused and he watched as she reached down to the bag next to her feet, pulled the phone free, and checked the caller ID. It was Michael. Her heart sunk, the anger, the hurt suddenly fresh and real all over again.
“Maybe you should take it.” Ben suggested.
She stared at the phone a moment before she pursed her lips with determination, and with a brief shake of her head, she declined the call and dropped the phone back in her purse.
“No. Not yet.”
She looked at her brother, a wry smile on her face.
“I hope you have some cute friends, ‘cause I’m dollin’ up way strong.”
SIX
CANVASSING
“N ope. Never seen him before.” Said the grey haired black man defiantly, before shuffling off down Union Street, towards the homeless shelter. His clothes were worn and ragged, and the smell and stain of many months of wear without wash caused Agent Stern to recoil.
“Why the hell are we askin’ these guys?” He braced Wolfe, as he put the artists’ sketch of Luthecker back in his folder, watching as the latest person to refuse to look at the picture disappeared around the busy street corner.
“Because these guys, they’re the eyes and ears. Nothing happens on the street, that they don’t see or hear about.” Wolfe replied.
“Homeless people? Gangbangers? They’re not gonna tell us shit. They protect one another. You know that, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are we wasting our time? This is fucking beat cop work.”
Stern scanned the streets of down town Los Angeles. Becoming more and more gentrified, the mixture of Staples Center Arena neon and the silver steel curve-linear design of the Disney Hall amphitheatre contrasted with the turn of the century Union Station train stop architecture and homeless shantytowns that ran through the alleys, all of which lay in the shadow of the steel and glass high rises.
“Just be thankful it’s not Iraq.” Wolfe replied.
Stern looked at him.
“Where you’d be getting shot at. And you’re getting paid a helluva a lot more than a beat cop.”
“It still sucks. And I don’t the mind shooting, long as I can shoot back.” Stern replied.
“Does that jarhead
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