Read Online On the Grind (2009) by Stephen - Scully 08 Cannell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephen - Scully 08 Cannell
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followed as I finally transitioned to the 105 and settled in for the long drive past LAX before exiting onto Sepulveda.
I drove past the endless stretches of oil fields, where huge pumps seesawed up and clown like giant metal insects drinking from an underground pond. Then I turned west toward the little city of Manhattan Beach. I finally found Ocean Way and looked for an address I'd already memorized. It was halfway down the Strand. I turned into the driveway of an expensive new three-story complex with a Century 21 real estate sign announcing new beachfront condos for sale and pulled up to the security gate. Then I punched in the access code I'd been given. The garage door opened and I drove Harpo's rusting, primered van down into the sterile, freshly painted parking structure, where I left it and took the elevator up to Penthouse 2.
The Otis box was mirrored and carpeted and, like everything else in this overpriced mecca, smelled brand new. The doors opened onto an attractive foyer. There were two penthouse condos on this floor that, from what I knew about Manhattan Beach real estate, I estimated had to be worth at least three million dollars apiece. I'd been told the key for number 2 would be hidden inside a carved figurine opposite the mirrored wall. I felt inside the figures open back until I found it, then unlatched the mahogany-paneled front door.
Inside, the lights had been dimmed and there was a fire burning in the fireplace. A Sheryl Crow love song was coming through the elaborate stereo system. The condo was beautiful. Rich upholstered furniture sat on the white plush pile carpet. Fine art hung on padded silk walls.
I saw her sitting on a porch chaise, her back to me, looking out at the ocean. She must have sensed my presence, or maybe she even saw my shadow move.
A woman so breathtaking, men might easily agree to kill for her. Movie-star gorgeous --that beautiful. She stood and turned toward me, looking through the sliding glass doors into the living room.
Then she ran into the condo, struggling for a moment with the doors before she raced toward me, flinging herself into my arms.
"Oh, Shane . . . my god, I've missed you so," she whispered.
I hugged her tight, feeling her warmth. I could barely speak, couldn't wait to make love to her.
"This was the hardest thing I've ever tried to do," she whispered in my ear as we stood there clinging to one another.
Then she kissed me, and with that kiss my tension evaporated. As if a cool dressing had been laid on an open wound, I was instantly better.
"I love you so much," I told her.
"I love you, too," Alexa said.
Chapter 14
After we finally separated, Alexa said, "Shes down on the beach patio. We shouldn't keep her waiting."
I got three Beck's beers from the fridge and we headed down to the sand where Ophelia Love was waiting. I handed her a beer and we clicked bottles.
"That was intense," she said, smiling.
"Sorry about the guns. Alonzo's idea."
"Not the first time I've looked Mr. Smith in the eye." The sentence was etched with her Carolina twang.
We arranged the patio chairs together in a circle so we could all look at each other. Then I filled Alexa and Ophelia in on what had happened since I went undercover. I finished by saying, "It's much worse even than Rick Ross told us. It's crooked as a Bayou card game down there."
Alexa leaned forward, her shining black hair falling in luscious sheaths at the sides of her face.
"I'm a little worried for this guy who's running for mayor , Rocky Chacon," I said. "Alonzo and the rest of the Haven Park department aren't about to let him win."
"Now that you're on the inside, you can't do anything that might blow your cover," Ophelia cautioned. "We're already doing what we can to protect him."
After we finished our beers, Agent Love stood to go. "I'm gonna keep hassling you and pulling you over, Shane. It's the only way I can stay close enough to give you any cover." She smiled wanly. "See if you can keep that
I drove past the endless stretches of oil fields, where huge pumps seesawed up and clown like giant metal insects drinking from an underground pond. Then I turned west toward the little city of Manhattan Beach. I finally found Ocean Way and looked for an address I'd already memorized. It was halfway down the Strand. I turned into the driveway of an expensive new three-story complex with a Century 21 real estate sign announcing new beachfront condos for sale and pulled up to the security gate. Then I punched in the access code I'd been given. The garage door opened and I drove Harpo's rusting, primered van down into the sterile, freshly painted parking structure, where I left it and took the elevator up to Penthouse 2.
The Otis box was mirrored and carpeted and, like everything else in this overpriced mecca, smelled brand new. The doors opened onto an attractive foyer. There were two penthouse condos on this floor that, from what I knew about Manhattan Beach real estate, I estimated had to be worth at least three million dollars apiece. I'd been told the key for number 2 would be hidden inside a carved figurine opposite the mirrored wall. I felt inside the figures open back until I found it, then unlatched the mahogany-paneled front door.
Inside, the lights had been dimmed and there was a fire burning in the fireplace. A Sheryl Crow love song was coming through the elaborate stereo system. The condo was beautiful. Rich upholstered furniture sat on the white plush pile carpet. Fine art hung on padded silk walls.
I saw her sitting on a porch chaise, her back to me, looking out at the ocean. She must have sensed my presence, or maybe she even saw my shadow move.
A woman so breathtaking, men might easily agree to kill for her. Movie-star gorgeous --that beautiful. She stood and turned toward me, looking through the sliding glass doors into the living room.
Then she ran into the condo, struggling for a moment with the doors before she raced toward me, flinging herself into my arms.
"Oh, Shane . . . my god, I've missed you so," she whispered.
I hugged her tight, feeling her warmth. I could barely speak, couldn't wait to make love to her.
"This was the hardest thing I've ever tried to do," she whispered in my ear as we stood there clinging to one another.
Then she kissed me, and with that kiss my tension evaporated. As if a cool dressing had been laid on an open wound, I was instantly better.
"I love you so much," I told her.
"I love you, too," Alexa said.
Chapter 14
After we finally separated, Alexa said, "Shes down on the beach patio. We shouldn't keep her waiting."
I got three Beck's beers from the fridge and we headed down to the sand where Ophelia Love was waiting. I handed her a beer and we clicked bottles.
"That was intense," she said, smiling.
"Sorry about the guns. Alonzo's idea."
"Not the first time I've looked Mr. Smith in the eye." The sentence was etched with her Carolina twang.
We arranged the patio chairs together in a circle so we could all look at each other. Then I filled Alexa and Ophelia in on what had happened since I went undercover. I finished by saying, "It's much worse even than Rick Ross told us. It's crooked as a Bayou card game down there."
Alexa leaned forward, her shining black hair falling in luscious sheaths at the sides of her face.
"I'm a little worried for this guy who's running for mayor , Rocky Chacon," I said. "Alonzo and the rest of the Haven Park department aren't about to let him win."
"Now that you're on the inside, you can't do anything that might blow your cover," Ophelia cautioned. "We're already doing what we can to protect him."
After we finished our beers, Agent Love stood to go. "I'm gonna keep hassling you and pulling you over, Shane. It's the only way I can stay close enough to give you any cover." She smiled wanly. "See if you can keep that
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