“They are out of your reach, Jonah. I can’t help you. Unless…” I didn’t like the look in his eyes, how they sparked with intent. “Unless we can help each other.”
I hated the thought of helping him, but we both knew I had no choice. “How?”
“Meet me tomorrow at noon.” He took a piece of paper and wrote down the address of a place in Simi Valley, over two hours’ drive from my house.
“Why there?”
“Ever so eager, Jonah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I called the Chief when I returned home, even though it was late. “I met with Eliot.”
“Was he helpful?”
“At the moment, no. He claims he’s no longer with The Society and that he didn’t know that Hayden and I were together. He wants us to meet again tomorrow.”
“Why?”
I was about to say that he needed my help, but my instinct told me to keep my mouth shut about that, at least until I learned more. “I’ll know more tomorrow. Did you meet with Agatha?”
“Yes. She didn’t give me any helpful information, but she did insinuate I was wasting my time.”
“Did you try to pressure her?”
“I know how to do my job, Jonah.”
Sitting on my couch, I leaned my head back, not surprised that Agatha had kept her mouth shut. That left Eliot as my only shot. “Are there any other leads?” I asked. “What about his aunt? Did you try speaking with her?”
“I won’t be doing that.”
“Why not? She can help with the investigation.”
“There isnoinvestigation, and it makes no sense bringing more people into this damn mess.”
I got up and paced around, fighting to keep my temper under control. “She’s his aunt, and she was with the FBI. It’s not like you’ll be speaking with the press.”
“I don’t trust her. She’s unpredictable.”
“This isn’t about her oryou.”
He took a breath, his annoyance almost telepathic. “I understand you’re upset, but you need to start accepting that this isn’t likely to have a happy ending.” Before I could respond, he added, “Meet with Eliot tomorrow and let me know how it went.”
He sounded like he wished I wouldn’t contact him at all.
*
Thanks to LA traffic, it took me nearly three hours to reach the address Eliot had given me. I drove with my window down, a nice summer wind blowing. I was aware of the risk I was taking by leaving LA’s borders, but I believed Hal’s assessment that I wasn’t being tracked around the clock and that the tracker wasn’t completely accurate.
I drove past a billboard for the latestX-Menmovie. I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of bitterness every time I passed by one of those things, as if the world was rubbing my face in what I almost had. I had no way of knowing what would have happened if things had played out differently; I might have been a washed-up actor regardless of ever meeting Eliot, but since I couldn’t know for sure, the uncertainty still tasted sour.
“What the hell?” I slowed down as I reached my destination, which turned out to be Innerjoy Hospice Care, a two-storybuilding. I eased my way into the parking lot as Eliot got out of his car. My stomach tightened at the sight of his beautiful turquoise convertible, Gloria. The memory of our time on the cliff resurfaced, followed by the memory of my last night of sanity at Eliot's house. He’d made a wonderful meal for me before I recited to him my favorite line fromDeath of a Salesman: “Why am I trying to become what I don’t want to be… when all I want is out there, waiting for me the minute I say I know who I am?”
I shoved the memories to the back of my mind and exited my car. Eliot walked toward me, wearing a simple button-down shirt. The touches of gray in his jet-black hair suited him. Everything suited him.
“I’m glad you’ve made it.”
“This is a hospice.”
