“How about the other two Flames?”
“Maybe.” He ran a hand through his hair and glanced around his room as though someone might still be in there listening to us.
“Your father?”
He stared at me, then looked thoughtful. “My father wouldn’t know it, but he wouldn’tneedto know it—he’d just get the staff to let him in. But he flew back to London last night.”
“Would the house staff give out your code?”
“Not if they wanted to keep working here.” He said it plainly and simply, not a threat. Just a reality. Besides, I’d seen the way the house staff—some of them, at least—reacted to Miller. Theylikedhim. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that people wouldn’t sell out a guy they liked, but it made it less likely.
“Do you think my father has something to do with Annie’s death?” Miller asked. It was a bold question, and I admired him for asking.
“Do you?” I countered.
He shook his head firmly. “Annie was the Golden Child in this family. If he was going to have one of us killed, it wouldn’t have been her. But…” He hesitated, then went on. “Obviously, I don’t know my father as well as I thought. I didn’t know he was friends with…” He gestured my way. “The Mob. So maybe I’m wrong.”
I wandered closer to one of the paintings, mounted in a simple white frame that made the colors seem even more vibrant. “My cousin’s an art dealer in Vegas. He could do something with your stuff, if you decide you want to go pro.” Miller gave me a blank look and I let it go. “Have you ever suspected someone might have been in your rooms before without your knowledge?”
He gave an uneasy shrug. “No.”
“Not even with all those pool parties you have?”
“No. Those folks know to stay outside.”
I wondered how closely they really adhered to that social expectation. “You got security cameras in here?”
“No, because the last thing I need is video evidence of the shit that I do in private. But you know what, I’m starting to wish I did.”
“You shouldn’t throw away your privacy so easily, Trouble,” I told him. “Still—therearecameras out in the hallway?”
“Yeah, and all through the first floor, and outside, too. All the entrances are covered.”
“Okay. Well, while we wait for security to send through the video, let’s go back to my place. Freddy might have something on that patsy they’ve got in custody.”
“Who’s Freddy?”
Shit. My mind was all over the damn place. I was worried as hell about this break-in. I was worried as hell aboutMiller. Was someone coming after him like they’d gone after his sister?
“JJ?” he prodded. “Who’s Freddy?”
“Forget I said that name. Come on; let’s get out of here.”
But halfway back home, a call came through that I couldn’t ignore any longer: my Capo, Legs. I pulled over, held up a finger for Miller to stay in the car, and then I got out and answered it.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, hedeignsto answer,” Legs said, and it went downhill from there.
In the end, because I wanted to get Miller home as fast as possible, I agreed to go out and run collections that night. It wasn’t West Hollywood that Legs was looking for, either; he wanted me to swap with Freddy and tour the East LA pubs and bars. That actually made it easier—I lived on that side of town, and I could get the work done in two hours, tops.
I didn’t mention that. If Legs had known he was doing me a favor, he would have changed his tune.
“Who was that?” Miller asked when I got back into the car.
“My idiot Capo,” I said, and then regretted it. “Forget I said that, too. Anyway, I’ll call in a favor, see if someone’ll cover the work for me.”
“No,” he said, reaching for my hand. “No, I get it. You have work.” Miller gave the same wan smile he’d given me earlier in the day, when he’d told me not to run off on him. “That’s okay.”
