Ariel didn’t seem thrilled about that.
She finally agreed to call a rideshare, and I helped her into the vehicle when it arrived. I told her once again to call if she needed anything.
JD and I caught up with Paris and had a little chat. I told her, “I need clips of the footage from today. We can use it to identify instigators that weren’t apprehended, and I can use it to identify Mr. X.”
Paris frowned. “You know I don’t compromise sources.”
“You’re not compromising sources. You’re handing over evidence that will lead to the arrest and conviction of violent protesters. I can get a subpoena if you want to play it the hard way.”
A naughty sparkle flickered in her eyes. “Ooh, I like it the hard way! But I’ll play nice and give you the footage.”
“Thank you.”
Once the scene was cleared, JD and I returned to the station to fill out after-action reports.
In the evening, we hit Oyster Avenue and grabbed dinner at Reef. Not to be confused with Reefers, the upscale establishment served surf ‘n turf in an elegant setting. But the wait to get a table was insane. Fortunately, the badge got us priority seating. We filled our bellies, drank fine whiskey, and kicked around theories about the cases.
The island was packed, and all the bars full. It was hot and sweaty, and you had to squeeze your way through the crowd just to get to the bar and fight for attention. I wasn't in the mood.
We kept the evening low-key and headed back to theAvventuraat a reasonable hour.
Traffic on the island had gotten bad, and it was only going to get worse as we entered the weekend. A sea of red taillights lined the road as we drove back to the marina. Loud music pumped from speakers. Cars packed with college students getting their party on stretched as far as the eye could see.
There were a good number of parties back at the marina. For a change, we weren’t the loudest residents in the place.
I took Buddy out for a walk, then settled in for the evening.
It was a little after 11:00 PM when I got a call from an unknown number. A soft voice filtered through the speaker in my phone. "Is this Deputy Wild?"
29
“This is Ariel. We met this afternoon.”
“I remember.”
“I hate to bother you. You’re probably busy right now.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not feeling so hot. I’m still a little dizzy, and I puked twice. Sorry. TMI.”
“Look, I think we need to get you to the ER and get you checked out.”
“Okay, but I can’t drive like this. I don’t want to call 9-1-1, and I don’t want to get into a strange cab.”
“Tell me where you’re at, and I’ll come pick you up.”
“Are you sure that’s not too much trouble?”
“Positive.”
She gave me an address, and I told her to stay on the line with me. I got the keys from Jack, then hustled down the dock to theparking lot and hopped in the Porsche. With a twist, I fired up the flat six, threw the car into gear, and pulled out of the space.
I told Ariel it would take me a few minutes to get there with traffic. She lived in the Coronado, not far away. The upscale midrise was popular with well-to-do twenty-somethings. With the following Ariel had amassed on social media with her shark pics, I’m sure she had a nice stream of income from endorsements—bikinis, dive gear, sunscreen, cosmetics.
I pulled around the fountain at the Coronado and parked at the main entrance. The valet hustled to my door, and I flashed my badge and told him to keep it running. After slipping a few bills into his palm, I stepped to the glass doors. With another flash of the badge, the concierge buzzed me in. I hurried through the opulent lobby, up to the 6th floor, and trotted down the hall to unit #610.
“It’s the enemy,” I shouted as I knocked on the door.
