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Authors: Sean Black
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someone.’
‘You’re saying there’s nothing we can do?’
Ty looked at her, his jaw tight. ‘Nothing you can do. But we can find Mendez.’
‘And Ryan? What does he think?’
‘I think your daughter did her homework pretty well.’
Eighteen
THE SUN SET low over the Pacific as Lock threaded his way back down the Pacific Coast Highway towards Los Angeles. His mood was lighter. He knew a lot more than he had before he left, and Ty had called with the news that Melissa had regained consciousness. She had been able to tell him a little of what had happened to her up to the night she’d been shot.
After months of trying to contact Lock and getting nowhere, she had seen a paparazzo picture of him escorting members of Triple-C into a West Hollywood restaurant. At first she had tried to get in touch with him via the group’s management, who had given her the brush-off. When she had seen they were playing a gig in LA, she had bought a ticket.
At the concert, the gang members had begun to cause trouble. At first she had thought it was a random event. Gang problems or fights at rap concerts were hardly unique. Then she had realized that they were looking for her. She had fled to her car, been chased and got away. Or, at least, she’d thought she had.
She’d been on her way to the hotel where the after-party was taking place when she had stopped for gas. As she was getting back into her car, another car had pulled in front of her, blocking her in. The girl had got out and shot her through the driver’s side window, leaving her for dead. But Melissa was alive. Delirious with pain, she had fixated on reaching the hotel and finding Lock.
The rest they knew.
Ty’s voice echoed in the car from the speaker on Lock’s cell phone. ‘Cops are in with her now.’
‘You ask them not to say anything to her about the girl being released?’
‘I did,’ said Ty. ‘Don’t know if they’ll tell her or not. You find anything up there?’
‘Some. Nothing that makes our job any easier. Think Brady had a contact in Mexico but they’re not answering their phone.’
‘Know who it is?’
‘Nope. All I got so far is a number.’ Lock drummed his fingers on the steering-wheel. ‘Listen, can you talk to one of our data-mining guys and see what they can dredge up about the Mendez family’s business interests?’
‘Sure.’
‘Especially anything related to business activities across the border in Mexico, subsidiary companies, suppliers, stock interests, business partnerships, anything of that nature.’
‘You got it. So, are we going after this asshole or not?’
Lock sighed and glanced at a pale blue slab of ocean. ‘Let’s just see where this takes us, Ty. I’ll be with you soon anyway.’
‘Okay, brother.’
Lock killed the call and switched his focus back to the road. Hetried the Mexican number he’d found on Brady’s phone records one more time. This time he got a message in Spanish and English to say that the person was out of coverage area. He’d try again later.
He made one more call as he drove.
Sarah Brady answered on the second ring. He thanked her for her help and apologized for disturbing her at work.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ she asked.
He wouldn’t tell her about the phone number until he knew whose it was. But something from the office had nagged away at him as he had snaked his way south. ‘This might sound stupid, but Joe had scribbled some stuff on his desk pad. Nothing that seemed to mean anything but maybe you’d know. Did you ever hear him use the words “The Devil’s Bounty”?’
There was a bitter laugh at the other end of the line. ‘Yeah, I know what that means. It’s just a shame Joe didn’t take it to heart.’
‘What does it mean, Mrs Brady?’
‘It’s dumb, really.’ She paused, seeming to search for a way to put it into words. ‘When Joe started out he worked for an old guy called Daniel Front. Front Bail Bonds. Danny had been in the job,
‘You’re saying there’s nothing we can do?’
Ty looked at her, his jaw tight. ‘Nothing you can do. But we can find Mendez.’
‘And Ryan? What does he think?’
‘I think your daughter did her homework pretty well.’
Eighteen
THE SUN SET low over the Pacific as Lock threaded his way back down the Pacific Coast Highway towards Los Angeles. His mood was lighter. He knew a lot more than he had before he left, and Ty had called with the news that Melissa had regained consciousness. She had been able to tell him a little of what had happened to her up to the night she’d been shot.
After months of trying to contact Lock and getting nowhere, she had seen a paparazzo picture of him escorting members of Triple-C into a West Hollywood restaurant. At first she had tried to get in touch with him via the group’s management, who had given her the brush-off. When she had seen they were playing a gig in LA, she had bought a ticket.
At the concert, the gang members had begun to cause trouble. At first she had thought it was a random event. Gang problems or fights at rap concerts were hardly unique. Then she had realized that they were looking for her. She had fled to her car, been chased and got away. Or, at least, she’d thought she had.
She’d been on her way to the hotel where the after-party was taking place when she had stopped for gas. As she was getting back into her car, another car had pulled in front of her, blocking her in. The girl had got out and shot her through the driver’s side window, leaving her for dead. But Melissa was alive. Delirious with pain, she had fixated on reaching the hotel and finding Lock.
The rest they knew.
Ty’s voice echoed in the car from the speaker on Lock’s cell phone. ‘Cops are in with her now.’
‘You ask them not to say anything to her about the girl being released?’
‘I did,’ said Ty. ‘Don’t know if they’ll tell her or not. You find anything up there?’
‘Some. Nothing that makes our job any easier. Think Brady had a contact in Mexico but they’re not answering their phone.’
‘Know who it is?’
‘Nope. All I got so far is a number.’ Lock drummed his fingers on the steering-wheel. ‘Listen, can you talk to one of our data-mining guys and see what they can dredge up about the Mendez family’s business interests?’
‘Sure.’
‘Especially anything related to business activities across the border in Mexico, subsidiary companies, suppliers, stock interests, business partnerships, anything of that nature.’
‘You got it. So, are we going after this asshole or not?’
Lock sighed and glanced at a pale blue slab of ocean. ‘Let’s just see where this takes us, Ty. I’ll be with you soon anyway.’
‘Okay, brother.’
Lock killed the call and switched his focus back to the road. Hetried the Mexican number he’d found on Brady’s phone records one more time. This time he got a message in Spanish and English to say that the person was out of coverage area. He’d try again later.
He made one more call as he drove.
Sarah Brady answered on the second ring. He thanked her for her help and apologized for disturbing her at work.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ she asked.
He wouldn’t tell her about the phone number until he knew whose it was. But something from the office had nagged away at him as he had snaked his way south. ‘This might sound stupid, but Joe had scribbled some stuff on his desk pad. Nothing that seemed to mean anything but maybe you’d know. Did you ever hear him use the words “The Devil’s Bounty”?’
There was a bitter laugh at the other end of the line. ‘Yeah, I know what that means. It’s just a shame Joe didn’t take it to heart.’
‘What does it mean, Mrs Brady?’
‘It’s dumb, really.’ She paused, seeming to search for a way to put it into words. ‘When Joe started out he worked for an old guy called Daniel Front. Front Bail Bonds. Danny had been in the job,
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