Vince nodded, and for the rest of the drive, we specifically avoided either the subject of his budding relationship with Rita or the people we were going to meet. I was nervous enough with Vince’s idea without having to discuss the damn thing to death.
Calling it the Long Beach Pier is a bit of a misnomer. The entire Long Beach Port is pretty big. Cruise ships dock there all the time, so it isn’t like the other piers that dot the Los Angeles area coastline, simple things that jut into the water. Instead, it’s a true shipping complex, but there is one area, off Pier J, that has a fishing spot. This is where Vince and I went. It’s actually pretty ugly, very industrial with nothing but asphalt and steel around you, the air thick with the combined stench of burning fuels and the not so clean parts of the ocean. Why anyone would choose to fish there I have no idea.
Vince’s connections were waiting for us, approaching us as we got out. “You’re Vince?” one of the men, who looked a bit long-haired but other than that normal, said.
“Yeah. This is my associate,” Vince said. “Thanks for meeting with us.”
“No problem. Nice to meet you, Mister Prescott.” Before I could react, the man held up his hands in a show of peace. “Hey, you’re a famous face these days. It doesn’t have any bearing on what we’re going to discuss today.”
I nodded, and the man turned. He had two other men with them, much rougher looking characters who looked uncomfortable in their work pants and polo shirts. They looked like people pretending to be middle class guys out to fish, if anything. “Come with me, please. We chartered a boat for the next three hours.”
It made sense. In three hours, we could go beyond the twelve mile legal limit of US jurisdiction, discuss whatever we wanted, and then come back. Of course, as a lawyer I knew that such ideas were more or less a legal fiction, but if it made the men feel more comfortable, I wasn’t going to object.
The boat was actually kind of nice, a thirty-five foot cabin cruiser equipped with fishing gear and even a lightly stocked galley, complete with snacks. “Have you ever been out on the ocean before?” the first man, who seemed to be the leader of the group, asked. The other two men had taken over operating the cruiser, one steering while the other worked on preparing the fishing gear. “I try to get out at least three or four times a year.”
“It’s been a while, but I used to surf. And yeah, I’ve been out some,” I said, not mentioning the time Dad had booked a summer vacation cruise around Baja, California. Two weeks of private use of a yacht, complete with a crew to man it. As I was fifteen at the time, just coming into my own as a teenager, it was quite a memorable experience, stopping in little port towns and then being gone the next day.
“So Vince tells me that my group and you have a common problem,” the man said. “Sydney Hale.”
I nodded. “Son of a bitch blackmailed my fiancée and stabbed me. Want to see the scar?”
The man shook his head. “No, that’s all right. I’m sure I would win that competition. I just want to be clear that this man has greatly offended you before we discuss anymore.”
“Care to share why you have it in for him?” I asked, not expecting anything. Instead the man smirked.
“No details, but let’s just say that Sydney Hale has done this type of action before, specifically with the daughter of one of my associates. While not as big time as your woman, the results were far more tragic, as a nineteen-year-old girl committed suicide over it. He’s had it comin’ for a while now.”
I nodded. “I want him taken into police custody.”
The man nodded. “So do we. If something happens to Hale outside of the prison system, my enemies will make sure to pin it on us. However, within the prison walls, things are . . . different.”
I turned and looked out at the ocean. The consequences of my decision would be a lot different than what I’d originally planned. I had to know the truth, unabashed. “Are you planning on having him killed?”
The man shrugged. “I can’t speak for the future, but let’s just say that I plan to exact some payback for his past transgressions.”
“As in?”
The man grinned. “He’s going to spend quite a few weeks walking bowlegged. Now, how about a little fishing?”
* * *
When Vince and I got back to the hotel, Rita and Alix were waiting for us. “After so much time at her place, I thought the four of us could go out for a nice evening off,” Alix said, “so I booked us a reservation at Night Market. You guys up for Thai food?”
“Sure, I love Thai food,” Vince said, then looked at Rita, his head cocked to the side. “What?”
“It’s not your typical Thai food,” she said, coming over and kissing his cheek. “But you might enjoy it. I do hope you have something more formal than your perennial jeans and t-shirt.”
Vince shook his head sadly. “No, ma’am. Sorry.”