pool table. It was the second bar I’d seen on the main floor. It was as though the house was used for parties and little else.
Vargas rubbed his temples and leaned back in his chair, almost crowding himself into the furthest corner of the house. He looked tormented, like a man who wasn’t sure about anything anymore and was just looking to sit still in a quiet, dim place until the world returned to normal.
“That’s a retainer,” he said, pointing to the envelope. “Should be enough to get things started.”
Jendrek didn’t look inside, he merely tucked it in the pocket of his tweed sport coat. Given the size and location of the house, I doubted money was anything we’d have to worry about. Putting together a winnable case, well, that was something different.
Jendrek cleared his throat. “I know this is a stressful time,” he began. “But we’re going to need to talk to people at the party, anyone who might have seen or overheard anything.”
Vargas waved his hand like he was batting a fly from the side of his face. He was irritated by something that didn’t seem connected with his father’s death. I studied the stubble on his chin. It appeared to spring from his flesh like worms escaping from something horrible inside him. He was suffocating on his own anger and exhaustion. Revenge and spite percolated through him.
He said, “Brianna’s outside on the deck. She was here. She lives here. She helped organize the party, she can give you a good list of who was here. I’m not sure what good I’m going to be. I need to get some sleep.”
Jendrek motioned for me to go talk to the girl on the deck. I crossed the room, running my fingers along the pink felt of the pool table as I passed it. “Now, I need you to understand a few things about the difficulty of a lawsuit against the police … ,” I could hear Jendrek say as I stepped back out into the bright, crisp daylight.
I stood by the French doors for a moment, watching her. She sat facing out at the city. It was one of those spectacular autumn days in Los Angeles where the air is completely clear and the temperature mild. It was the kind of day that made Angelinos remember why they lived there, and why so many others had lived there before them.
Women like Brianna were another reason people loved LA. She was aesthetically perfect, mesmerizing to look at. The kind of woman a man found difficult to take seriously as anything but an object. I traced the curves of her firm, tan body with my eyes, not wanting to disturb her, feeling intimidated and overwhelmingly attracted at the same time. Finally, she must have felt my stare because she turned to see me lingering near the doors.
“Hi.” She smiled. “Something I can help you with?”
I cleared my throat and walk toward her, trying to make it look like I hadn’t been standing there watching her. “Yes. I’m Oliver Olson,” I said, crossing toward her with my hand outstretched. She’d taken off the T-shirt and wore a black bikini top barely big enough to cover her nipples.
She shook my hand and smiled up at me from the deck chair. “Nice to meet you.” Her blue eyes glowed in the daylight. She smelled of tanning oil. I tried to keep my tone serious, which only made me feel ridiculous.
I tried not to stare at her tight stomach muscles as they rippled with her movements. “I’m an attorney. We’ve been called to look into the possibility of a lawsuit against the police department stemming from last night’s events.” I realized I didn’t have a note pad or anything to write with and I felt a sudden urge to do something with my hands to keep them from fidgeting like a schoolboy. “I understand from Mr. Vargas that you live here and that you helped arrange last night’s party. I would like to get a list of who was here and how I can get in touch with them, to the extent you know.”
She was quiet for a minute. She sat with her hands in her lap and her shoulders slumped, staring out into the light blue sky. Even somber, she exuded a pure, objectified sexuality. Just the sight of her made me want to climb on top of her right then.
Finally, she shook her head and said, “I’ve tried not to think about it