Wild L.A. Read online

  Her feline form pranced toward me as if she were stalking her prey. Her gaze never left mine. Though I had to admit, my eyes may have observed the black-lace bra that contained her buoyant orbs.

  “You’re Tyson?”

  “In the flesh.”

  She plopped into my lap and flung her arm around me. “I’m on the clock. It’s $20 a dance. Cash. What do you want to know?”

  She was all business.

  We were midway through the song—she would start peeling out of the frilly garments at the beginning of the next tune. The DJ certainly wasn’t playing the extended radio edits. These were the short cuts. All the songs were about 2 minutes long, if that. The idea was to squeeze as many dances out of the clients as possible.

  “Tracy told me that Mia stayed with you when she first moved to Los Angeles,” I said.

  “I told her she could crash on my couch. She stayed with me for a few months while she was looking for a job. But when she got big and famous, she sure didn’t return the favor.”

  “You needed help?”

  “Let’s just say my career didn’t take off like hers did. I had asked her to put in a good word for me with her agent.” Jade frowned and shook her head. “But she never lifted a finger to help me. I was part of her old life, and she wanted nothing to do with her old life. It surprised me a little.”

  The song ended, and Jade climbed out of my lap. She reached her delicate hands behind her back and unclasped her bra. The straps fell from her shoulders, and she shimmied out of the garment and tossed it on the chair beside me. Her glorious endowments bounced free.

  I couldn’t help but focus on them. I swallowed hard, losing my concentration.

  Jade was used to it. This wasn’t the kind of place where you had to maintain eye contact. The whole point was to indulge in your carnal desires.

  She began to move in hypnotic ways.

  I refocused my mind. “Why did it surprise you?”

  “Because... I had dirt on her.”

  “What kind of dirt?”

  “I would never use it. I’m not that kind of person. Maybe that’s why she ignored me. She knew her secrets would be safe with me.”

  Jade spun around and gave me a look at her backside. Taut and firm. She bent over and wiggled her hips.

  She had a nice wiggle.

  I took a deep breath. My heart beat a little faster. Suddenly it felt stuffy inside the club.

  Concentrate.

  “What secret?”

  Jade spun around and straddled me. She slid up my body and pushed her bosoms into my face.

  She was good at her job. One dance wasn’t enough. I had no doubt she had plenty of repeat customers.

  Jade grabbed my hands and put them on the outside of her thighs. I traced her smooth skin up to her hips. She was giving me a little taste of the merchandise. The sultry vixen spun around and placed her cheeks in my lap and did her best to polish the surface of my slacks. She leaned back against my chest, and her red lips tickled my ear as she whispered, “Nikki Griffin.”

  “Who’s Nikki Griffin?” I asked.

  Jade pulled away and her face scrunched up, looking at me like I was crazy. “Mia’s secret. For a cop, you don’t know much.”

  “I’m not from around here.”

  “Ah,” she said. Then confusion twisted her face. “If you’re not from around here, why are you looking into her case?”

  “A favor to her mother.”

  Jade climbed out of my lap, stood up, and undulated. She jiggled her wares, then dropped to her knees and placed her face in my lap, teasing me. Then she slid up my body again.

  “There was no love lost between Mia and her mother. Now she’s trying to play the poor pathetic victim? Please. Tracy was shitty to Mia.”

  “I guess she’s trying to make amends.”

  “Little late for that, don’t you think?”

  “Who’s Nikki Griffin?”

  9

  The song ended way too soon, and Jade stopped dancing. I dug into my pocket, peeled off a $20 from my money clip, and handed it to her. She stuffed it into her shoe, put on her bra, then sat in the chair next to me.

  Girls typically danced every other song. We had a song to chat, then she’d be gone if I didn’t fork over another $20. I had a fat stack and intended to stay as long as I needed to. I might even be tempted to stay longer.

  “Nikki was a way for Mia to get off my couch and into her own apartment,” Jade said.

  “How so?”

  “Nikki is very good about finding the young and beautiful. If you hadn’t noticed, this town is all about young and beautiful. The trouble is, being young and beautiful often comes along with being broke. That’s where Nikki comes in. Nikki has the connections.”

  “Is she an agent?”

  Jade seemed amused by the phrase. “Of sorts.”

  “I think I’m beginning to figure out what you mean.”

  “Nikki facilitates arrangements between young girls and the wealthy and powerful. If you know what I mean.”

  “She’s a madam.”

  “A very respectable, high-class madam. Discreet. And that’s part of the allure. Nikki has a reputation. The girls know that if they work for her, they’ll be paid well, treated right, and no one will find out about their dirty little secret.”

  “You introduced her to Nikki. I take it you worked for Nikki?”

  “I did what I had to do. I’m not proud of it.” She glanced around the club. “I don’t really like working here, but it beats sleeping with perverted old men.”

  “How long ago did Mia work for Nikki?”

  “A few years ago. Ancient history in this town.”

  “How long did Mia do that kind of work?”

  “Not long. A few months. I don’t think she was cut out for it. Not many girls are.”

  “Did that mess with her head?”

  “I think that kind of thing messes with every girl’s head that does it.”

  “When did Mia get into drugs?”

  Jade chuckled. “Everyone in Hollywood is into drugs. It’s everywhere. Plus, when you’ve got to bang some guy you’re not really into, it helps to be a little loaded. Some people can handle their high, some people can’t.”

  “Mia would have met a lot of influential people working for Nikki, right? People that could help her career.”

  “I’m sure she did.”

  “Mia got ahead somehow,” I said.

  Jade shrugged. “Sometimes you gotta give a little head to get ahead. Look, I don’t really know who she met during that time. She didn’t talk about it much, and that was about the time we stopped being friends. I think part of her resented me for getting her into it. But hey, she was an adult, she could make her own decisions. When she got out of it, I don’t think she liked being reminded that she ever did it.”

  The song ended.

  “Another dance?” Jade asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  Jade peeled off her bra again and began her routine. She changed it up a little this time. It was more sensual, if that was even possible. The first time was pretty stimulating. I figured the more you spent, the better the dances got.

  “You know how I can get in touch with Nikki?”

  “I’ll give you her number. But you didn’t get it from me. I don’t want to get involved in this.”

  “Who are you afraid of?”

  She slid up my body. “If what you say is true, and Mia was murdered, somebody had to have a pretty good reason.”

  “Like you said, maybe it was just a drug overdose,” I said, playing devil’s advocate.

  “I think you underestimate how powerful some people are in this town. How nervous they are right now.”

  “Nervous?”

  “Haven’t you been keeping up with current events? A lot of people have abused their power over the years. It’s coming back to bite them in the ass.”

  “You think Mia was going to make allegations against someone powerful?”
/>   Jade shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Seems like an odd time to do that just as she was achieving notoriety.”

  “Maybe she figured her newfound stardom gave her the leverage to speak out? I guess we’ll never know.”

  10

  The waitress brought another round, and I stayed for a few more dances, trying to squeeze as much information out of Jade as possible. She was happy to squeeze as much money out of my wallet as she could.

  Seemed like a win-win scenario.

  I settled the tab and thanked Margot/Jade for her time. She told me to come back any time.

  I could tell she had a lot of mixed emotions about Mia. It was a subject she had kept to herself for a long time. Talking about it seemed to be cathartic for her. Jade got to spill the beans on Mia’s dirty little secret. At the same time, maybe she was helping me get one step closer to the truth.

  Jade moved on to another client, and the manager’s eyes followed me as I strolled toward the exit. We gave each other a subtle nod, and there was an uncomfortable smile on his face.

  I think he was happy I was leaving.

  No doubt a place like this had run-ins with the law on a regular basis. I knew from experience, you couldn’t keep a place like this operating without greasing a few palms. A shady cop could make life hell for the management. Persistent raids looking for violations, visits from the Fire Marshal, the City Health Inspector, Alcoholic Beverage Control—anybody in the food chain that had an interest in making sure the operation was up to code. All of those people could appear with their hand out.

  I nodded to the bouncer as I stepped onto the sidewalk. Cars buzzed up and down the boulevard. It was near 2 AM, but the city didn’t seem like it had any intention of slowing down. The Hollywood Hills loomed above the strip, houses perched on hillsides with stilts and pylons. The hills had secrets of their own.

  I ambled down the sidewalk, making my way back to the hotel, passing drunk revelers. At the next block, I crossed the street, slipped into the secluded entrance of the Château, and made my way up to my suite.

  I sent a text to Isabella, my former handler at Cobra Company, and asked for information on Nikki Griffin. I set the phone on the nightstand by the bed, peeled out of my suit, brushed my teeth, and climbed into bed.

  I had a restless sleep, tossing and turning all night, having weird dreams about the night Mia Sophia died.

  The morning sun slipped through a narrow gap in the blinds, painting a brilliant line across the floor and part of the bed.

  I yawned and stretched and wiped the sleep from my eyes. When I reached for my phone, I saw there was a reply from Isabella. I swiped the screen and surveyed her texts. She sent me a full dossier on Nikki Griffin. The infamous Hollywood madam had two residences. One in the hills, and one in Malibu. The dossier included several pictures and background information. There was also a snarky note from Isabella. [What's the matter? Are you lonely? Looking for entertainment?]

  It made me chuckle.

  I pulled myself out of bed, showered, got dressed, then headed down to the lobby for breakfast. David didn't mention what time we would reconnect today, so I shot him a quick text and asked if he’d like to join me. He responded a moment later and said he’d be down shortly.

  The host seated me at a table, and David arrived a few minutes afterward. An excited grin curled his face. “I think I’ve got this whole thing pretty much mapped out—in broad strokes, anyway.”

  “That was quick.”

  “It’s amazing what you can accomplish with an endless supply of coffee.”

  He looked like he hadn’t slept much. “I’ll show you what I’ve got after breakfast.”

  Scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, toast, and orange juice started the day off right. The dining area was filled with the subtle murmur of conversation and the clinking of silverware against plates. The smell of fresh coffee permeated the air. It was calm and relaxed. The chaos of the night had evaporated with the morning sun.

  After we ate, we went to David’s suite, and he showed me his outline. Each episode was labeled with the major complications and the twist. We talked briefly about the proposed episodes, and I filled him in on additional details and gave him guidance on authenticity. We spent the morning working out the finer details but still keeping it broad.

  “We’re creating a roadmap for the writers to follow. They’ll fill in the blanks, we just need to keep them from going off course,” David said. Then he added with derision, “You know writers...”

  We ordered room service for lunch, and by the afternoon, we had pretty much come up with an overview and bullet points for each episode. I could see the whole thing coming together.

  “I’ve been keeping detailed daily journals, if that’s helpful,” I said.

  David’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re personal. Probably pretty boring. I just write about my day, so I don’t forget about what happened in my life. When I’m old and senile, if I make it that far, I can look back.”

  “I’d love to see them.”

  I considered it.

  I kept hearing David say the phrase, “We’re in the second Golden Age of television.”

  TV used to be a place where movie stars went after their film careers had run their course. It was seen as a downgrade. Now, with long-form episodic television, and streaming networks creating binge-able content, television had opened up new possibilities. No longer was it looked down upon. With 12 or 24 episodes per season, there was an ability to tell stories that were more complex and more involved than any movie could be.

  The process is what let me keep Diver Down, and for that, I was grateful.

  David said he would spend the rest of the afternoon and evening going over everything we had worked on, revising it, adding to it, and possibly rearranging things. He said we’d touch base to evaluate the revisions before putting it into a presentable treatment to give to the studio. It was often referred to as a Series Bible—the immutable rules the show would follow.

  With the afternoon to myself, I decided it was time to meet Nikki Griffin.

  11

  “Nikki, my name is Tyson Wild. I’m hoping you can help me,” I said into the phone when I was back in my suite.

  “I’d love to help you, darling. How did you get my number?”

  “A former employee.”

  “Who?” she asked, cautiously intrigued.

  “The lady wishes to remain anonymous,” I said.

  “I’m very discreet. You can tell me.”

  “I never break my word.”

  “I only work with referrals from people I know well. Seems we might be at an impasse.”

  “I was hoping you could tell me about Mia Sophia.”

  The line was silent for a moment.

  “I don’t gossip about the dead. If you’re working for one of those sleazy tabloids—”

  “I’m not working for the tabloids. I’m investigating her death.”

  “You’re a cop?”

  “Not local. Deputy Sheriff in Florida.”

  “A little bit out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you, Deputy?”

  “I’m working in an unofficial capacity.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know any more than what I read on the Internet.”

  “Can you think of anyone who may have wanted to harm her?”

  There was another long pause.

  “As I mentioned, Deputy. I’m very discreet. I don’t discuss clients or employees.”

  “So, Mia was an employee?”

  “Goodbye, Deputy Wild.”

  She ended the call.

  Her unwillingness to talk on the phone didn’t surprise me. I would have to try other tactics.

  I called Lyric Stone, the reporter that had acquired Mia’s autopsy report. Her phone went straight to voicemail, and I left a message. Reporters were always eager to break a story, and I figured I had a good chance
of getting a call back.

  It only took a few minutes.

  After we made introductions, Lyric asked, “Your message mentioned you were looking into Mia Sophia’s death. How can I help you?”

  “I thought you might have turned up some interesting leads?”

  “Not really. Nobody will talk to me. The LAPD has closed the case. There is nothing to discuss, they say.”

  “Tell me what you really think.”

  “I think something’s funny. But that’s my nature.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “About my nature, or about what I think is odd?”

  “I’m staying at the Château. Perhaps we can discuss this over drinks?”

  “Are you looking for a date, Deputy Wild, or information?”

  “I don’t need a date. And certainly not with a reporter.“

  “What do you have against reporters?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve been burned a few times.”

  There was another pause.

  "How do I know you're who you say you are?"

  "Call Sheriff Daniels at the Coconut County Sheriff's Department.”

  “I’m not too keen on meeting strangers right now."

  “One can never be too careful these days,” I cautioned.

  “Let's just say I have reason to be concerned.” She paused. After a moment, curiosity got the best of her. “I’m gonna make some phone calls. If you check out, how does 8 PM sound?"

  "Perfect."

  "Send me a pic, so I know who to look for."

  After I hung up, I took a selfie and texted it to her.

  JD called a few minutes later. “Oh, my God!"

  "What is it now?"

  "That girl is just amazing." He could only be talking about Sloan.

  "So you’ve said. Numerous times."

  "She's just fun to be with."

  "That's good. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

  "I dropped her off at the airport, and I got another kiss on the cheek."

  "That's a little tame for your standards."