Visibly steeling himself to say what needed to be said, Andrej took another sip of his drink. Leaning forward again, he said, “Leah, look at me. I am telling you this. Where I come from, we have this thing- I guess you could call it a pledge of vendetta. I am duty bound to help you find and kill Angela’s murderers. I could not call myself a man if I did not help you with this. This is not something I can walk away from,” Andrej said.
I reached over and shook his hand. “Andrej, I am proud to have you with me on this. I really am. Like I said, I’ll do anything I can to keep you clean, but I’ll definitely take any help you can give me.”
I took a sip of my own drink and said, “My security guy said he asked you about looking into National Car Rental’s computers to find info on the guy that visited the New York cell, but you were in Bali at the time. It could be really helpful to have an ID for him, and- and this is a big deal- find out what airline he flew into Newark on and where he came from. It’s big ask, but if you could dig up that info we’ll have a better idea about where to look,” I said.
“I’ll have that information for you right away,” Andrej promised.
“I might have some other strings I can pull once I have a name,” I said. “Especially if he came in from out of the country.”
“You think that he came from some other country? Which one?” Andrej asked, curious.
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? I have nothing but suspicions at this point,” I admitted. “But if my suspicions are correct, things may escalate quite a bit.”
“Is it going to make the news when you find these people?”
“Not if all goes as planned,” I assured Andrej. “If all goes as planned nobody will ever hear about any of it. Ever.”
“I’ll have that information for you as soon as I can,” Andrej nodded.
“You’re a good man, Andrej,” I said.
Emmy got home exhausted from the concert, happy with how the show had gone. I’d only gotten back from the club a little bit before, so I was still wearing my gangster pinstripe suit when Emmy walked in, accompanied by Nick and Eddie. I thanked the two guys and told them that we wouldn’t need them until time to go to the show in the afternoon.
“Thank you, Nick, Eddie,” Emmy added. I appreciate all you are doing.”
The two men merely smiled and nodded before leaving.
“Leah, I forget sometimes how hot you look in those suits,” Emmy said, dropping into the couch. “You new suits from London are impeccable, but they do not have quite the same flair as the suits you wear to the speakeasy.”
“Maybe not, but I have gotten a lot of compliments on my new bespoke suits. I think I’m going to have to order some more, though- five doesn’t seem like enough now I’ve gotten used to wearing them,” I said, sitting down next to Emmy.
“That is easy enough. We will do that next time we are in London,” Emmy said.
“That might be sooner for me than for you,” I said. “I’ve been thinking I may need to go talk to that Colonel Bridger guy. He might be able to get some information I might need.”
“The English spy?” Emmy asked.
“Yeah, that’s the guy,” I said. “He might be willing to use some of his resources to track somebody down if I ask nicely.”
“Is that wise?” Emmy asked. “I am concerned that he may wish to sink his hook in you.”
“Oh, he absolutely does,” I admitted. “Which is why he may give me the intel I want.”
“What will he ask in return?”
“That remains to be seen,” I admitted.
“Be very careful,” Emmy urged.
“Oh, believe me, I will,” I replied. “I’ll be very careful.”
I worked out at The Pit again the next morning. I was shadowboxing on the mats in the back corner when a guy came over to talk.
“You look like you fight,” he said.
I didn’t want to deal with the guy, but he’d already gotten past my ‘Don’t bother me’ vibes, so there wasn’t much I could do.
“I just like the workout,” I told him, keeping it short and just this side of rude.
“Well, you ought to give it a try,” he said. “With your long reach, you could do really well.”
“There is no women’s weight category for me,” I told him. “And besides, I’m just here to stay in shape. Hey, I hate to be rude, but I don’t want to cool down, so if you’ll excuse me,” I said and turned away to get back to my workout.
“Jeeze, just tryin’ to be friendly,” the guy muttered as he walked away.
“Who was that guy?” Ashley asked, walking up to me but looking back at the guy who’d gone back to the weights.
“No idea. Some dude trying to hit on me,” I said with a shrug.
“Yeah, well, he’s lucky you didn’t hit him back,” she said with a laugh.
“So, you’re still keeping up with your self defense classes here?” I asked, pleased.
“Well, I’m taking the kickboxing classes now, but yeah,” she said. The smile disappearing from her face, she said, “You know, I never actually met Angela in person, but I kinda feel like I knew her, you know? I’m really sorry about what happened to her, and to Emmy.”
“Thanks,” I said, resigning myself to cooling off.
“So, um, what’s up with the haircut and dye job?” she asked, indicating her own hair.
“Everybody and their brother was recognizing me from those videos and it got old in a hurry,” I said.
“Oh, yeah, I can imagine,” she said. “You know, I watched ‘em. Both of ‘em. If that guy over there realized that was you he’d wet his shorts,” she said, hiking her thumb at the dude who’d tried to chat me up.
“He certainly wouldn’t have asked me if I fight,” I agreed.
“You know, my dad put two and two together and figured out it was the person he met at the steakhouse in those videos.”
“Yeah? What did he have to say about you being friends with a mass murderer?” I asked, sipping my water.
“Well, first off, I don’t think anybody thinks of you quite that way,” Ashley countered. “I mean, it’s not like you went looking for people just to break their necks, right?”
“Everybody talks about that particular thing,” I groaned.
“Well, no fucking wonder! I mean, it’s right there in the video. You grab that guy’s arm, twist him around, wrap an arm around his head and just boom! The guy’s suddenly looking backwards. It was so fucking brutal!” Ashley said, getting excited.
“You said your dad realized that was me,” I prompted.
“Yeah, that’s right. Dad’s, like, all, ‘Your friend isn’t someone to ever mess with.’ I’m like, ‘Yeah, no kidding- but I could have told you that before.’”
“So he didn’t warn you to stay away from me or anything like that?” I asked, curious.
“No, he sure didn’t. In fact, he said that if this gym taught you to fight like that, I should probably continue my kickboxing lessons.”
I laughed. “Yeah, you won’t learn things like breaking somebody’s neck here. In fact, they frown on moves like that.”
“Yeah, I hope so!” Ashley said. “So where did you learn to do that?”
“Home schooling,” I said.
After giving me a disbelieving look, Ashley changed the subject. “You’re in town right now because Emmy’s band is playing up in San Francisco, right?”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Yeah,” I said. “And I’d been ignoring work here for too long, what with everything that happened.”
“I don’t think anybody would blame you for that,” Ashley said.
“Maybe not,” I admitted. “But since Emmy needed to be in the Bay Area anyhow, I figured I’d get in some office time.”
“Have you been going to the speakeasy?”
“I went last night,” I said.
“You didn’t see Emmy’s concert?” Ashley asked, surprised.
“She insisted,” I replied. “After all, it’s been months since I spent an evening at the club, but only a week since I’ve seen a Downfall show.”
“That makes sense,” Ashley said with a smile. “So are you going again tonight?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I said.
“Can I go?”
Thinking about the flowers that the regulars had left in Angela’s memory, I said, “No, I’m not sure it would be a good idea tonight. Next time, but not tonight.”
Ashley looked as if she would protest my decision, but instead, let her shoulders droop.
“O.K., I guess,” she said. “Next time, then.”
“Next time,” I agreed.
Perking back up, Ashley asked, “Can you show me that move where you lift a guy up and smash him down on his head?”
“Sure, no problem. Here, we’ll start with the first step. Lift me up over your head,” I said, holding my arms out to my side to make it easier for her.
“You’re just trying to get me to put my hands all over you,” Ashley said, sticking out her tongue at me.
“I think you have our roles reversed,” I said with a laugh, lowering my arms.
Emmy and I stayed in that day until it was time for her to go to AT&T Park for the second night’s show. At a loss for anything to do once she’d gone, I tackled work emails for the rest of the afternoon. I opted to head in to the club early, since I was bored. I wasn’t the first one there that night, but nearly so.
After I ate dinner, the typical stream of regulars came over to say hello and introduce their friends, with only a little bit of the night before’s condolences.
Imogen and James came in around nine or so, settling down at my table to talk.
“Is Emmy really doing as well as she seems?” Imogen asked almost as soon as they sat down.
“No, not really,” I said. “She’s getting better, but she still has a lot of grief to work through. It’ll take some time- it hasn’t even been two months yet. Heck, I’m not doing as well as I seem, you know?”
“I can’t even imagine what you two are going through,” she said.
“It’s been a nightmare,” I admitted.
“Leah, I think it’s fair to say that we know you pretty well,” James said, leaning in to emphasize his point. “We didn’t want to talk about it in front of Emmy, but Imogen and I, we’re pretty well convinced that you aren’t taking the whole thing as… as passively as you make it seem. Tell me I’m wrong,” he challenged.
“You’re not wrong,” I said.
“In Arizona, when you as much as admitted that you’d ended the lives of the two men who attacked Emmy in San Francisco, I didn’t doubt you,” James said. “You were so calm and collected when that redneck pulled a knife on you… That isn’t most peoples’ reaction in a situation like that. So yes, it was easy to believe when you said that… well, you know. Then after Atlanta when all anybody could talk about was the video of the attack, I had to watch it.”
“I didn’t,” Imogen said, shaking her head. “I have no need to see that.”
“I haven’t, either,” I confessed.
“In any case, the way you moved in Arizona was only a hint of what you’re capable of, of what was in that video. You were so incredibly fast, and, well, utterly ruthless and lethal. If I hadn’t seen you in action there in Willcox I would have had a hard time believing it,” James said.
“But we did,” Imogen added. “We saw the way you moved. I can’t even say that it was mayhem- that implies a lack of control, and you were never, ever out of control. James tells me that it’s the same in the video, just… more.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” I said with a shrug.
“Well, that’s the thing,” James said. “Anybody can tell that you have. And that- that’s what has the whole Valley talking. We talked about your reputation, and that a lot of people have speculated on your less-than-legal activities. Your denials are a lot less convincing now.”
“I really am just a real estate investor,” I said. “Well, O.K., my company also has a hospitality division and I do VC funding, too, but primarily I’m in real estate investment and management. I go to work in an office, with a staff of property managers and the like. It’s that simple.”
“No, it isn’t, and we,” James countered, indicating himself and his wife, “know it. But to get back to my original question. We know you, Leah, and we know what you’re capable of. We also know how much you and Emmy loved Angela. Putting two and two together, we come up with four, which is that you have some plan for retribution against the people that harmed you and yours.”
“Didn’t you watch the video?” I asked. “I killed them all.”
“We aren’t asking you to share your plans,” Imogen said, clearly a bit exasperated with me. “We want you to know that we think the people who planned the attack on Angela and Emmy deserve whatever you have planned for them. That’s all. We want you to know that it won’t damage our friendship to know that you have plans for revenge.”
“It isn’t really revenge I’m after,” I admitted. “Don’t get me wrong- revenge would be emotionally satisfying, but ultimately that isn’t the driving factor,” I said. “No, what’s really important is threat elimination. The individuals that planned and executed the attack can’t be allowed the freedom to continue to be able to do so in the future. For Emmy’s safety, and the safety of any children we might have, these people can’t be ignored. They can’t be wished away.”
“So you do have plans in motion,” James said, satisfied.
“Not as far as you know,” I told him. “Deniability is important.”
“You know, Leah,” Imogen said, leaning back. “You do ‘nefarious’ really well.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said with a chuckle.
“It was meant as one,” Imogen admitted.
The conversation turned to less nefarious topics after that, and when I mentioned that I was soon to be the proud owner of a Porsche and two BMW dealerships, James said that a friend of his had a BMW Z8 he was thinking of parting with, and wanted to know if consignment was a better route than trying to sell the car himself.
“Give me his contact info and I’ll give him a call,” I said. “We like to have showpiece cars on display, and if his is in good condition we could maybe floor it for him,” I offered.
“What other cars have you had on display?” James asked, curious.
“Well, my GT3 car, for one,” I said. “We’ve had a few really nice classic 2002s, but the best was a 1957 507 Roadster that had been owned by Yul Brynner. The current owner was O.K. with us displaying the car while we waited for service parts from Germany. That one actually drew admirers from all over Southern California.”
“Didn’t a 507 sell at Pebble Beach last year for three million?” James asked.
“Yeah, but that was concours perfect. Yul’s old car is in great shape, but unrestored original condition. The owner estimates it’s worth two, maybe two and a half, but…” I said with a shrug. “The original paint is worth something and the provenance is interesting, but if I had to guess, it’s a million and a half at auction.”
“Did you offer to buy it?” James asked, curious.
“Nah,” I said, dismissively. “I buy cars to drive, not to hide away in my garage.”
“Driving those classics is bad for their resale value,” James said. “By the way, have you taken the Spyder out recently?”
“Just the other day. You remember my friend Stein, the guy with the McLaren 570? We went out for a bit of fast driving, just him and me,” I confirmed.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” James said.
“The thing about that car is that to really get the bit in its teeth you have to be going near warp speed, so going on just a Sunday drive feels as if it’s being wasted,” I replied.
“That is true, but it’s surprisingly docile at legal speeds,” James said.
“It is,” I admitted. “But you can tell it wants to run free.”
Emmy got home to the condo a bit earlier than she had the night before, and less tired. We took advantage of these facts and settled ourselves into the big bathtub for a soak.
Leaning back against me, Emmy let out a long, contented sigh. “Leah, I do not believe that I can ever tell you how much I love you,” she said. “You have been so solid, such a comfort to me these last two months. I do not think that I could have made it to this point without your strength. I am still terribly sad and I think I will be for a while, but to know that you are here for me is the support I need.”
“I’m terribly sad, too,” I told her. “I try not to be, but Angela… I miss her every day. I do. I probably will forever. But I still have you, Em, and that means everything to me.”
Emmy took my wrists in her hands and hugged herself tightly with my arms. Of course I took the cue and held her close, squeezing her delicate body against my own. I kissed the top of her head and said, “We’ll get through this together, Em.”
“In my mind I know we will, but sometimes, in my heart, I feel as if I will be miserable forever,” Emmy replied in a soft voice.
“Me, too,” I whispered.
Emmy woke the next morning to the smell of coffee brewing. She wandered into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. I couldn’t help but notice that she’d lost weight, her already slender physique looking a bit more gaunt than I’d like. I guess I’d known she was losing weight, but seeing the way her camisole draped on her really drove it home.
I’d seen it before- Emmy losing her already small appetite in times of distress, so it wasn’t surprising, but I made a mental note to make sure she ate more.
“We don’t really have anything here for breakfast,” I apologized. “Let’s go out and grab a bite. I know a decent bakery not far away that does a great Belgian-style waffle.”
“With strawberries?” Emmy asked, perking up.
“We’ll ask for extra,” I assured her. “Go get dressed so we can have our strawberries ASAP.”
The waffles were just as good as I’d promised, but Emmy opted for a crêpe with Nutella and banana slices instead. She did steal a few of my strawberries, which I was happy to give up if it meant putting some weight back on her.
Our waitress was completely star-struck by Emmy’s rock goddess status in a way I’d grown unaccustomed to. Of course, Emmy obliged by posing for a selfie or two. Once that was out of the way, even though a certain measure of professionalism returned I am absolutely certain we got the most attentive service of anybody there that morning.
When I told Emmy over breakfast about my conversation with the Athertons at the club, her eyes lit up.
“My father had a Z8!” she exclaimed. “I always liked that car!”
“Maybe I should buy this one for you, if it’s nice enough,” I said, half-jokingly.
“Call the man up right now,” Emmy urged. “I would like to see his car, and find out how much he wants for it.”
“Market for a really nice one is about two hundred grand right now,” I said. “Prices go up or down from that number based on condition and mileage.”
“I am no good at negotiating,” Emmy admitted. “You must be the one who decides if his asking price is fair.”
“I can do that,” I said, happy to pay any price for the car if it could make Emmy’s mood lighten the way just the idea had done.
The seller had quite a few nice cars in his garage in Mountain View, even though he didn’t consider himself to be a collector. He was tickled by the thought of selling his BMW to a rock star, and soon enough we’d worked out a deal. Arguably the few, tasteful mods he’d done to the car were functional improvements, but as with any classic car, deviations from stock knocked the value down a bit.
As far as I was concerned, it was a win for us. Another win was the removable hard top, since Emmy and open-topped cars weren’t a good combination.
“I love the dark blue color,” Emmy said as we drove back to the condo. “My father’s was silver, which I think is a bit mundane. I like this color much better. Then, “How will we get it back to Los Angeles? Can we bring it to a local dealership and have them transport it to our dealership?”
“I have an idea,” I said. “When we pick it up tomorrow morning, we come back to the condo, drop this car off in the garage, and then take a road trip back down to LA in the Z8. We can drive down the coast, maybe stop off in Cambria or someplace like that. How does that sound?”
“Superb!” Emmy said, excitement in her voice.