The Closers (4 page)

Condon was the company's chief financial officer, but more important, he was the man who had hired Vernon.

"We told him yesterday," Pierce said. "Together. I heard she'd made an appointment to talk to him last before she left today. If Charlie didn't tell you, there is nothing I can do about that. I guess he didn't see it as necessary, either."

That was a shot, reminding Vernon that he had been left out of the loop by his own sponsor. But the former FBI man shook it off with a quick frown and moved on.

"You didn't answer before. Did she receive a severance?"

"Of course. Yes. Six months' pay, two years' medical and life insurance. She's also selling the house and keeping all proceeds. Satisfied? I hardly think she's vulnerable. She should clear more than a hundred grand on that house alone."

Vernon seemed to calm a bit. Knowing that Charlie Condon had been in the loop eased things for him. Pierce knew Vernon viewed Charlie as being the practical business side of the company while Pierce was the more ephemeral talent side. And somehow Pierce's being on the talent side lowered Vernon's respect for him. Charlie was different. He was all business. If he had signed off on Nicole James's departure, then it was going to be okay.

But then again, if Vernon was satisfied, he wasn't going to say so to Pierce.

"I am sorry if you don't like the questions," he said. "But it's my

job and my duty to maintain the security of this firm and its projects. There are many people and companies whose investment must be safeguarded."

He was alluding to the reason he was there. Charlie Condon had hired him as a showpiece. Vernon was there to placate potential investors who needed to know that the company's projects were safe and secure and, therefore, that their investments would be safe and secure. Vernon's pedigree was impressive and more vitally important to the company than the actual security work he performed.

When Maurice Goddard had made his first trip out from New York to be shown around the place and receive the initial presentation, he had also been introduced to Vernon and had spent twenty minutes talking about plant security and personnel with him.

Pierce now looked at Clyde Vernon and felt like screaming at him, letting him know how close they were to running out of significant funding and how inconsequential he was in the scheme of things.

But he held his tongue.

"I understand your concerns perfectly, Clyde. But I don't think you have to worry about Nicole. Everything is cool."

Vernon nodded and finally conceded, perhaps sensing the growing tension behind Pierce's eyes.

"I think you're probably right."

"Thank you."

"Now, you said you were selling the house."

"I said she's selling it."

"Yes. Have you moved yet? Do you have a number where you can be reached?"

Pierce hesitated. Vernon had not been on the A-list of people who had gotten his new number and address. Respect was a two way street. While Pierce viewed Vernon as capable, he also knew what had gotten the man the job was his FBI pedigree. Of his twenty-five years in the bureau, Vernon had spent half in the L.A. field office on white collar crime and corporate espionage investigations.

But Pierce viewed Vernon largely as a poseur. He was always on the move, charging down hallways and banging through doors like

a man on a mission. But the bottom line was that there wasn't a whole lot to the mission of providing project security to a firm that employed thirty-three people, only ten of which could get through the man trap and inside the lab, where all the secrets were kept.

"I've got a new phone number but I don't remember it," Pierce said. "I'll get it to you as soon as I can."

"What about the address?"

"It's over in the Sands on the beach. Apartment twelve oh one."

Vernon took out a little notebook and wrote down the information. He looked just like a cop from an old movie, his big hands crowding the small notebook as he scribbled. Why do they always have such small notebooks? It was a question Cody Zeller had once posited after they'd seen a cop flick together.

"I'm going to get back to work now, Clyde. After all, all those investors are counting on us, right?"

Vernon looked up from his notebook, one eyebrow raised as he tried to gauge whether Pierce was being sarcastic.

"Right," he said. "Then I'll let you get back to it."

But after the security man had retreated through the man trap Pierce again realized he could not get back to it. An inertia had set in. For the first time in three years he was unencumbered by interests outside the lab and free to do the work. But for the first time in three years he didn't want to.

He shut down the computer and got up. He followed Vernon's wake through the man trap

->

When he got back to his office Pierce turned the lights on by hand. The voice-recognition switch was bullshit and he knew it. Something installed simply to impress the potential investors Charlie Condon walked through the place every few weeks. It was a gimmick. Just like all the cameras and Vernon. But Charlie said it was all necessary. It symbolized the cutting-edge nature of what they did. He said it helped investors envision the company's projects and importance. It made them feel good about writing a check.

But the result was that the offices sometimes seemed to Pierce to be as soulless as they were high-tech. He had started the company in a low-rent warehouse in Westchester, having to take readings on experiments in between takeoffs and landings at LAX. He had no employees. Now he had so many he needed an employee relations officer. He drove a fender-dented Volkswagen Beetle then- the old kind. And now he drove a BMW. There was no doubt, he and Amedeo had certainly come a long way. But with increasing frequency he would drift off to memories of that warehouse lab beneath the flight pattern of runway 17. His friend Cody Zeller, always looking for a movie reference, had once told him that "runway 1?" would be his "Rosebud," the last words whispered from his dying lips. Other similarities to Citizen Kane notwithstanding, Pierce thought there was a possibility Zeller might be right about that.

Pierce sat down at his desk and thought about calling Zeller and telling him he'd changed his mind about going out. He also thought about calling the house to see if Nicole wanted to talk. But he knew he couldn't do that. It was her move to make and he had to wait her out- even if it never happened.

He took the pad out of his backpack and called the number for accessing his home voice mail by remote location. He tapped in the

password and was told electronically that he had one new message. He played it and heard the nervous voice of a man he didn't know.

"Uh, yes, hello, my name is Frank. I'm at the Peninsula. Room six twelve. So give me a call when you can. I got your number from the website and I wanted to see if you're available tonight. I know it's late but I thought I'd try. Anyway, it's Frank Behmer, room six twelve at the Peninsula. Hope to hear from you soon."

Pierce erased the message but once more felt the weird magic of secretly being inside somebody's hidden world. He thought for a few moments and then called Information to get the number for the Peninsula in Beverly Hills. Frank Behmer had been so nervous while leaving the message that he hadn't included the callback number.

He called the hotel and asked for Behmer in room 612. The call was picked up after five rings.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Behmer?"

"Yes?"

"Hi. Did you call for Lilly?"

Behmer hesitated before answering.

"Who is this?"

Pierce didn't hesitate. He had been anticipating the question.

"My name is Hank. I handle Lilly's calls. She's kind of busy at the moment but I'm trying to reach her for you. To set it up for you."

"Yes, I tried the cell number but she didn't call back."

"The cell number?"

"The one on the site."

"Oh, I see. You know, she is listed on several sites. Do you mind my asking which one you got her numbers from? We're trying to figure out which one is most effective, if you know what I mean."

"I saw it on the L.A. Darlings site."

"Oh, L.A. Darlings. Right. That's one of our better sites."

"That's really her on there, right? In the picture?"

"Uh, yes, sir, that's really her."

"Beautiful."

Yes. Okay, well, like I said, I'll get her to call you as soon as I get ahold of her. Shouldn't take too long. But if you don't hear from either me or Lilly within an hour, then it's not going to happen."

\

"Really?"

Disappointment tumbled off his voice.

"She's very busy, Mr. Behmer. But I'll try my best. Good night."

"Well, tell her I'm just in town on business for a few days and I'd treat her real nice, if you know what I mean."

Now there was a slight note of pleading in his voice. It made Pierce feel guilty about the subterfuge. He felt that he suddenly knew too much about Behmer and his life.

"I know what you mean," he said. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Pierce hung up. He tried to put his misgivings aside. He didn't know what he was doing or why, but something was pulling him down a pathway. He rebooted his computer and jacked in the phone line. He then went online and tried a variation of web configurations until he hit on www. la-darlings. com and was connected to a site.

The first page was text. It was a warning waiver form explaining that there was explicit adult fare waiting on the website. By clicking the enter button, the visitor was acknowledging that he or she was over eighteen years old and was not offended by nudity or adult content. Without reading all the fine print, Pierce clicked on the enter button and the screen changed to the site's home page. Running along the left border was a photo of a naked woman holding a towel in front of herself and a raised finger in front of her lips in a don't-tell-anyone pose. The site titling was in a large purple font.

L.A. Darlings

A free directory of adult entertainment and services

Beneath was a row of red tabs labeled with the available services, ranging from escorts categorized by race and hair color to massage and fetish experts of all genders and sexual orientation. There was even a tab for hiring actual porno stars for private sessions. Pierce knew there were countless sites like these all over the Internet. It was likely that every Internet provider in every city and town had at least one of these sites- the equivalent of an online bordello -sitting in its chips. He had never taken the time to explore one,

though he knew that Charlie Condon had once used such a site to hire an escort for a potential investor. It was a decision he regretted and never repeated- the investor was drink-drugged and robbed by the escort before any sex act even took place. Needless to say, he did not invest in Amedeo Technologies.

Pierce clicked on the blonde escorts tab for no reason other than it was a place to start looking for Lilly. The page opened in two halves. On the left side of the page was a scrolling panel of thumbnail photos of the blonde escorts with their first names appearing under each picture. When he clicked on one of the thumbnails, the escort's page would then open on the right- the photo enlarged for easier and better viewing.

Pierce scrolled down the panel, looking at the names. There were nearly forty different escorts, but none was named Lilly. He closed it out and went to the brunettes section next. Halfway through the thumbnails he came to an escort with the name Tiger Lilly under her picture. He clicked on the photo and her page appeared on the right. He checked the phone number- it wasn't the same as his.

He closed the page and went back to the thumbnails panel. Further down he came to another escort named simply Lilly. He clicked her page open and checked the number. It was a match. He had found the Lilly whose phone number he now had.

The photo on the ad was of a woman in her mid-twenties. She had dark shoulder-length hair and brown eyes, a deep tan. She was kneeling on a bed with brass railings and was naked beneath a black fishnet negligee. The curves of her breasts were clearly visible. The tan lines of her crotch were seen also. Her eyes looked directly into the camera. Her full lips formed what Pierce thought was meant to be an inviting pout.

If the photo had not been altered and if it was really Lilly, then she was beautiful. Just as Frank Behmer had said. Pure fantasy, an escort dream. Pierce understood why his phone had been ringing constantly since he had plugged it in. The wealth of competition on this website and all the others on the net didn't matter. A man scrolling through the photos- shopping for a woman, as it Were-would be hard-pressed to go past this one without picking UP the phone.

?Q

There was a blue ribbon posted below the photo. Pierce moved the cursor to it and a pop-up caption said "photo verified by staff," meaning the model in the photo was actually the woman who had placed the ad. In other words, you got what you saw if you arranged to meet the escort. Supposedly.

"Photo verifier," Pierce said. "That's not a bad job." His eyes moved to the ad copy below the photo and he scrolled down as he read it.

Special Desires

Hello, Gentlemen. My name is Lilly and I'm the most soothing, pleasing and down-to-earth escort on the whole Westside. I'm 23 you, 34-25-34 (all natural), 5-1 and 105 Lbs. and don't smoke. I'm part Spanish and part Italian and all American! So if you're looking for the time of your life, then give me a call and come visit me at my safe and secure townhouse near the beach. I never rush and satisfaction is guaranteed! All special desires considered. And if you want to double your pleasure, visit my girlfriend Robin's page in the Blonde Escorts section. We work together as a team -on you or ourselves! I love my work and love to work. So call me!

In call only. VIPs only.

Below the ad was the phone number now assigned to Pierce's apartment, as well as a cell phone number.

Pierce picked up the phone and called the cell number. He got her voice mail.

"Hi, it's Lilly. Leave your name and number and I'll call you right back. I don't return calls to pay phones. And if you're in a hotel, remember to leave your full name or they won't put my call through. Thanks. I hope to see you real soon. Bye-bye."