Bain. His aide answered on the first ring. Some things never changed. "Martin, I'll need you here at the house the first thing in the morning. I'm going to resign as governor."
SECTION TEN (Chapters 91 – 100)
TRAVIS – 91
Travis wasn't even bothered by the fact he was going downtown for the second time that day. He was going to see Maddie…Maddiecake.
Persuading Pleasure Treasure to make the phone call to Drejohn made Travis realize his career as a cop wasn't over. He still had the street smarts to B.S. with the underbelly of L.A. and make a difference.
For the first time in a long time, he felt optimistic about the future. He and Maddie worked well together. They were partners. Together, there was nothing they couldn't get through. She must be feeling the same way too. That's why she'd asked him to come downtown and meet her at the hotel.
For the rest of his drive, he made a mental list of the things he needed to do to get back on track. First order of business was to get back to work. He'd give S.W.A.T. another try, but if he couldn't fit in there anymore maybe he'd become a detective. That was the beauty about working for the LAPD; there were countless jobs a cop could do.
The second thing he wanted to do was to take Maddie away for a real vacation. Maybe Hawaii or Europe or something. The two of them had spent the last year and a half just trying to exist. Now it was time to live.
Travis's thoughts drifted to the shrink, Doctor Stevens. "I'm on the road to recovery, Doc," he said aloud to himself. "Travis Divine is back!"
PILAR – 92
Pilar had been in the Temple Street Towers many times, but never before had she been so nervous. What if someone saw through her disguise and recognized her? How would she explain herself? Christ Pilar, you're the mayor of Los Angeles, you're running around with a .38 in your purse, and you're meeting up with a former gangster who could destroy you. Getting recognized is the least of your problems.
She didn't know whether to be relieved or insulted that her disguise was working. Not one man even gave her the slightest look. As the mayor and as an attractive woman, she didn't like it. She was used to being the center of attention, and being treated as a 'commoner' put her in a foul mood.
Entering the lobby, she scanned the area for Zepeda Sorriano. You couldn't miss the cocktail lounge, it was situated in the center of the concourse. Smatterings of people occupied the contemporary sofas and chairs encircling the outside of the bar, which was built around a rotund concrete tower. Bottles of booze reflected the light from the elongated pendants strung from a track overhead.
Zippy was his gang name and the name Pilar had known him by when they'd grown up together in the barrio in East L.A. He'd acquired the name after a rival gang's bullet had skimmed his skull, causing an eight-inch laceration requiring dozens of stitches. The resulting scar looked like a zipper running across his forehead, as though you could unzip the top of his head and take a look inside. He wore the scar as a badge of honor, always combing his hair straight back so everyone could see the disfigurement, and marvel at how close he'd come to death but defeated it.
Irritated that he was late, she moved to a corner table that was partially hidden from view by a large pillar. No sooner had she sat down, than Sorriano threw himself in the chair next to her. She had to do a double take, as he too was somewhat in disguise: wearing casual jeans and a long sleeved shirt with a ball cap low on his brow. The fact he'd felt the need to alter his appearance frightened her; he'd never done that before.
"Hey lady. What's shakin'?"
She peered through her fake glasses and hoped he saw how annoyed she was. "Why don't you tell me? You called and said there was a problem."
Zepeda twisted in his seat, searching the room. "Did you order a drink yet? I need a Corona in the worst way."
"Zippy, this is not funny. If there's a problem, I need to know about it, and I need to know now."
"Relax, Madam Mayor, everything is under control. I was worried the police might be able to trace things back to us. On the way over here I found out some fascinating information that has not only solved the problem, but will actually put the heat on someone else."
"First of all, don't call me that in here," she hissed. "Do you understand me? This may be all fun and games to you, but my whole life is on the line here." She fell silent as the server approached and took their drink order.
After the waitress moved away, Zepeda placed his hand over Pilar's as though he were about to whisper endearments to her. "Do not take that tone with me…Pilar. You seem to forget that I hold your future in my hands. I could make one phone call and, 'poof,' your world would collapse."
"Not without taking yourself down with me."
Zepeda shifted in his seat and clenched her hand tightly, cutting off the blood-flow to her fingers. "Only fools threaten me, Pilar. And certainly not some chica. I actually have good news. Now do you want to hear it or not?"
Not willing to give him the satisfaction of showing he was hurting her, she gave him a slight nod and he released her hand.
"It was most distressing to me when the body of Heather McCall was found in the desert dumping grounds. I've dumped many of my homie brothers in that location over the years and never was a body discovered. I sent some of my peewee 'up and comers' to do a man's job and they failed me." He gave her a wry smile. "Of course, they have paid for their stupidity."
The server returned with their beverages: a martini for her and a beer for him. "Gracias, senorita," Zippy said with a winning smile, and an exaggerated accent. After returning his broad smile, the young woman moved away. Pilar immediately reached for her much needed drink, and took a large gulp.
"Tsk, tsk, Pilar. Are you developing a drinking problem?"
"I'm going to if you don't get to the point of this meeting. What the hell is going on?"
After removing a lime stuck in the neck of his bottle and biting into it, Zepeda took a long pull of the amber liquid. He set the beer down and wiped his mouth. "The whole situation has turned out much better than I could have ever imagined." He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. "After the cops cleared out from the crime scene at the dump, I went to the area and pretended to be a newspaper reporter. I found out from a local there is a guy who runs a dog-fighting operation and porn studio less than a mile from where Heather's body was found. We need to find a way to turn the cops on to this dude named Dre. With his history, they'll see him as the obvious doer."
Pilar started to feel hope that maybe this whole crazy scheme would turn out all right. But her hopes were dashed when she looked up and saw frumpy Detective Divine enter the room and take a seat at the bar. "Oh, shit, what's she doing here?" Pilar said. She couldn't catch her breath. A cold sweat erupted from her pores.
Zepeda's gaze followed Pilar's. "Who is that?"
"One of the detectives handling the McCall case."
"What the hell?"
"We've got to get out of here before she sees us," Pilar whispered frantically.
Zepeda lifted his head slightly. "No. Just relax and act normal. She isn't expecting to see us here, and we look like an average couple having a cocktail." He pushed Pilar's glass toward her. "Finish your drink, Pilar. We will leave separately, as soon as we are done."
"I'm getting out of here. I don't think it's any coincidence that detective is in the same bar we are." Pilar started to rise from her chair.
"Sit," he whispered.
She immediately sank back into her chair.
"I won't be contacting you for a while unless something is wrong – or I need more money. I'll figure out a way to get any heat off of us and onto that dog-fighting fool." Zepeda surveyed the lounge. "Get up from your chair and go around the back side of the bar. There's an exit over there."
Pilar stood and began to move away.
"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Madam Mayor," he said just loud enough for her to hear. He chuckled as he saw her shoulders stiffen as she continued through the bar.
; After Pilar left, Zippy Sorriano waved the waitress back and ordered another beer, his eyes never leaving the female detective texting on her cell phone while hunched over the bar.
TIFFANY – 93
Riding in a black Escalade with tinted windows, Tiffany gazed at the darkness outside. She had no idea where she was, but she could see lights of a town ahead out the windshield. Big M drove the SUV down the deserted two-lane highway and Drejohn rode shotgun. Both men wore expensive-looking business suits. She'd been surprised but knew better than to comment on their clothes.
In the back seat, Tiffany and Brenda held hands while the men in front passed a joint back and forth between them, thundering rap music making conversation impossible. Tiffany watched and tried to memorize landmarks so if she had the opportunity to show police where they'd been held, she'd be able to do it.
Suddenly, Brenda squeezed her hand and slightly tilted her head toward the front. Out of the corner of her eye, Tiffany saw they were entering the 14 Freeway south. She still wasn't sure where she was. Her friend cast a glance at the men who were not paying the least bit of attention to them. Brenda mouthed something to her, but the interior of the car made it too hard to see. Tiffany tried to adjust the low-cut corset whose boning was digging into her ribs. The short black satin skirt caused her to slide on the smooth, black leather seats. Even her black velvet stiletto sandals
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