It was the only way to ensure reliable payment in Hollywood. Back-end points were meaningless unless they came off the top. There were so many ways to hide money with clever accounting. Countless Hollywood blockbusters showed zero revenue on thebooks, even though they took in hundreds of millions at the box office.
“Sounds good to me.”
“I’m hopping on a plane and coming into town. I should be there in time for the airshow, barring incident. But if I’m not, I will catch up with you in the evening.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“See you then, brother. Tell Jack I said hi.“
“I will.”
I ended the call and shook my head, wondering what I had just signed on to. One thing was certain—it would be an adventure. It always was with Flynn.
I crossed the passerelle to find Buddy waiting for me at the salon door.
I grabbed his leash and took him out for a late-night walk. The moon glowed overhead, and the stars flickered. It was a nice night, apart from the murder.
Jack returned as I walked back. I met him in the parking lot, and we strolled to the dock toward theAvventura.
"How’d that go?"
He shrugged. "I just took her home. She gathered some things and packed a bag. I drove her to the Seven Seas and got her checked into one of the cabanas.”
"You learn anything new?"
"Not really. As far as I can tell, she's telling the truth. But let's just say I wouldn’t want to close my eyes next to her in bed. I might run if she picks up a pair of scissors or pruning shears.”
I laughed.
We boarded the boat. It was about time to shut it down for the night. I crawled off to bed and did a little research on my tablet before dozing off. I found some interesting articles about Brock, his new bride, and shocking allegations.
I woke with the sunrise. After a shower and shave, I headed down to the galley to fix breakfast. The scent of fresh coffee swirled, and bacon sizzled in the pan.
Jack staggered into the galley in time to join me for breakfast on the sky deck. Afterward, we pulled ourselves together, took my bike into the shop, then returned to Diver Down, grabbed the Porsche, and headed out to find Brock’s ex-wife, Celeste.
9
"Ican't say that I'm totally surprised," Celeste said when we caught up with her at her condo in the Nautilus Tower. It was a luxury high-rise with all the amenities.
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
She shrugged as she stood in the doorway.
Celeste was an attractive woman in her mid-50s. She had short, stylish blonde hair in a pixie cut. Her tawny eyes were lined with dark mascara and smoky eyeshadow. There wasn't so much as a wrinkle on her forehead—a lot of Botox and lip fillers. She had a good plastic surgeon. With a slinky little figure on full display with a snug, cream dress, she was still a catch. "What's the saying? Lay down with dogs, get up with fleas. I guess this time he didn't get up."
"I take it you’re not a fan of his new bride," I said.
She scoffed. "That little slut wrecked my marriage. I can't say that it was the best marriage, but it was mine, and we were happy. At least I thought we were happy.”
"I'm sorry."
She sighed, and her eyes misted. “I told myself I wasn't going to cry over that man. I spilled enough tears over the years. Please tell me you're going to arrest that bitch.”
“Tiffany?”
"Yes. Who else would have killed him?"
"I don't know. That's what I'm hoping you can help us with.”
