Nick stopped his SUV at my curb at noon and I climbed in, neck damp from waiting in the sun, my jeans already sticking to my thighs. Cool and relaxed in a gray NoHo T-shirt, he leaned over and kissed me. “What happened to your eyes?”
I flipped down the visor mirror. Yikes. My over-mascaraed lashes framed my big browns like black centipedes. “Nothing. What time is our meeting?”
“Twelve-thirty.”
Twirling my hair into a knot at the back of my neck, I grabbed Herrick Schelz’s pamphlet off the console and fanned my face. “I thought you gave this to Eagleton.”
“I included photos of the cover and the page with the symbol in an e-mail to him with my report. He still hasn’t replied yet.” Nick made a U-turn in the middle of my block and drove toward Moorpark Street. “I want Horus to check out the actual pamphlet. Either Pratt and Eagleton don’t consider it relevant or they pulled me out of the loop because of you.” He patted my thigh affectionately. “Pratt knows I’m in your gang.”
“You’re always my first choice as an accomplice,” I said. As we traveled east on Moorpark to Vineland, then north to Riverside Drive and the entrance to the 134 East, I told him what I learned from and about Billy Miles.
“Billy Miles can describe his job any way he wants to. He’s a fraud, but does that connect him to the crime?”
“I’m grasping for leads, Nick, so far we’re getting a lot of information about nothing.”
“We’ve been at this less than twenty-four hours. Maybe Dave came up with something.” Nick autodialed the hands-free phone on the dashboard. On Dave’s answer, Nick said, “Any luck getting Herrick Schelz’s visitor list from the Indiana State Prison?”
“Waiting for a fax,” Dave said over the speaker. “I’ll let you know as soon as I get it. But I was about to call both of you. Seven years ago, Kyle Stanger was arrested and charged with misdemeanor assault in Georgia.”
“Kyle and Jarret were in a bar brawl with a man in Atlanta,” I said as we curved onto the Golden State turnoff heading south. “Jarret wasn’t charged. Kyle took all of the blame.”
“There’s more,” Dave said. “Three years ago, Stanger got arrested in Atlanta again, that time for possession and intent to sell Schedule II and III drugs—cocaine and steroids.”
“Did he serve jail time?” I said.
“His lawyer convinced the judge to suppress the evidence and the charges were dropped. Stanger moved to Los Angeles two years ago and applied for a business license.”
“And opened Game On with Jarret,” I said.
Nick glanced at me. “Do you think Jarret knew about the drug arrest?”
“I doubt it. Jarret is protective of his image. I doubt he’d risk going into business with a known drug dealer. Then again, he always felt guilty for letting Kyle take the assault rap for him.”
“How about this—Forrest Huber was Stanger’s lawyer in the drug case,” Dave said.
I tapped my lip. “I knew Kyle got chummy with the Hubers at my parties in Atlanta. I was curious why he and Laycee stayed in touch. If she threatened to tell Jarret that Kyle was dealing drugs again in L.A.—”
“Kyle wouldn’t have taken her to the bar to meet Jarret or let her leave with him,” Nick said.
“True,” I said, then added into the speaker before we hung up, “Good work, Dave.”
“I know. You’re welcome.”
I stared at the passing roadside, puzzled by Kyle’s relationship with the Hubers. Something didn’t fit. “Nick, I’d bet anything Forrest had no idea that Laycee and Kyle were close. He wouldn’t like it.”
“Why?” He changed lanes and took the exit through a canopy of trees bordering the edge of Griffith Park toward Los Feliz Boulevard. “How jealous was he?”
“Edging toward morbid—the extreme version that can lead to stalking and violence. Although I’ve seen Laycee play on his jealousy and provoke him. I remember how she flaunted their age difference to make him crazy, making jokes about their sex life and wearing revealing clothing. Forrest fumed over her flirtatious behavior at our parties. If Laycee and I went out together, he called every ten minutes asking when she’d be home. It wasn’t much of a surprise when he phoned me Wednesday morning looking for her.”
“Did he abuse her?”
“I can’t say for certain. I didn’t see visible bruises, but there were signs. After their arguments, she’d lock herself inside for days. Then a new car, new clothes, new vacation, or new pet would appear.”