"I tried. I was overruled by the government. If you would have called me sooner, I could have had the plane disabled."
Vincent pushes his anger down. "I appreciate your help in this matter."
"Do you want me to have her kidnapped?"
"The men you recommend haven't been able to find her."
"Have you followed the money?"
"The money?"
"She had to pay for the flight somehow."
"How do I do that?"
"You let me invest in your company."
"So I can go to jail for money laundering?"
"Don't kid yourself, Vincent. I have plenty of legitimate funds in the bank."
"I couldn't give you a seat on my board of directors, but I just met with them and regardless of the financial projections for my movie they have been hesitant. It's not going to stop me, though. I have plenty of assets I can leverage."
"And I happen to own a bank that would love to help you do just that if you'll agree to take me on as a small investor."
"Deal," Vincent says.
"Excellent. I also know of a few others who would be willing to invest without representation. If you need more money, let us know. In the meantime, I'll have a bank representative at your office within the week. And I will make a call to a very special accountant I know. His specialty is finding those who don't want to be found. Everyone leaves a trail."
Vincent hangs up. At least something good has come out of this day.
"Put your hands up!" he hears.
Vincent assesses the airport security men who have their weapons trained on him-and does as they ask.
What follows is a debacle. Men detain him, and he's brought in a room for questioning.
Once the TSA realizes he's in the movie industry and that he wasn't even on the plane that arrived from Miami, they profusely apologize and let him go.
As our wheels leave the ground, Cooper's phone rings.
"Fuck," he says before he answers. "Yes. I know, sir. Right, but . . ." Sigh. "It's on me. Yes, I understand."
He disconnects the call and shuts off his phone as we climb into the air.
Then he stands up, takes the gun out of my hand, and puts it back in the bag along with his.
"What the hell were you thinking? He didn't know you were in here until you called attention to yourself."
"He was going to the house." I picture Gracie sleeping in my arms and feel sick. "I couldn't let him."
"He put something in one of your sister's backpacks, didn't he?"
"Yes."
He runs his hand across his buzzed hair. "Garrett just fired me."
"Bullshit," I say.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, bullshit. Although I appreciate everything he's done for me, and although he may think he is, Garrett is not the boss of me. He works for me."
"It seems personal to him."
"It's always been personal to you. And it just got more personal because you met my sisters."
He nods.
"You were right, Cooper. About me being the weakest link in my security. I need you to teach me all the martial arts stuff you know. And how to shoot. You're not leaving school." I roll my eyes and give him a grin. "The girls would all be grieving for days."
After we level out, the co-pilot comes back. "We were just informed that our flight plan was changed. We'll be landing at Santa Monica airport in a few hours."
"Santa Monica?" I ask after the pilot goes back into the cockpit.
Cooper shakes his head. "That's where Garrett is meeting us. He'll be getting you back to school."
I get up and pour us each two fingers of scotch.
I set the glass in front of him. "Drink."
"I can't drink on the job."
"Technically, you just got fired. Drink."
When we land, Garrett pulls Cooper aside. They're having a very animated conversation.
I walk in between them. "That's enough, Garrett. There's no reason to yell at him if you've fired him."
"The hell there isn't. I can't believe the two of you pulled a stunt like this."
"Garrett, calm down. Cooper planned everything out. He's really smart and he did a really good job. You need to hire him back."
"What? No."
"Um, yes, Garrett. Otherwise you're fired."
Garrett's head practically does a 360-degree spin. Almost like a horror movie.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Garrett says, now completely pissed off.
"Garrett, you know I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I have to put my foot down on this, just like I did with Cooper. I need both of you working together to help keep me safe. My rehearsals just ended and Cooper is going to start teaching me martial arts."
"And how to shoot," Cooper says with a grin.
"Because even though school is pretty secure, I'm the weak link."
"The weak link?"
"Tell him, Cooper."
He does and then, finally, they shake hands.
Garrett gives me a hug, then dangles a set of car keys in front of us and says, "Drive from here to Vegas. Spend the night. Catch a charter there."
Cooper and I get into the car and drive away from the airport.
"I don't want to go to Vegas tonight."
"We don't have a choice."
"Sure, we do. It's past ten, we're exhausted, and it's over a four-hour drive. It's not safe."
"Where do you want to go then?"
"We'll stay here in Santa Monica."
"Vincent can check our flight plans."
"If he does that, he'd go to Malibu. Shit. I wonder if he knows B was in Vancouver? Hang on. I need to call him."
I push B's number. "Hey, are you still in Vancouver?"
"Yeah, spending the night at your parents' and then flying to my next tournament."
"Where's that?"
"Portugal. Then Hawaii for the Thanksgiving break. You doing anything? You could come."
"I don't think that would be very smart, B."
"Yeah, I know. Wishful thinking."
"Thanks again for spending Gracie's birthday with her."
"No problem. Bye, Keats."
I hang up. "He's not coming home. And I know just where to stay. Let me call and see if they have any rooms."
Cooper and I get to the iconic Shutters on the Beach in Santa Monica and check into the Presidential suite. It was all they had available and I would pay just about anything to stay on the beach tonight.
After we get checked in, I immediately swing open the balcony doors and take in the fresh ocean breeze.
I get a crazy idea that Cooper will probably never agree to. But I check anyway. I pop on Facebook and pull up Mark's profile. He always posts the night before where they are surfing in the morning.
There across my phone are the words: Manhattan Beach is where it's at.
"You better get some sleep tonight," I tell Cooper. "We're getting up at sunrise and going surfing."
Cooper stops drinking the beer he just pulled out of the refrigerator. "No, we are not."
"Yeah, we are. We're going to Manhattan Beach. It's nowhere near Malibu. Some of B's old surfer friends are going to be there."
"I think it's a bad idea."
I smile at him. "So's going to sit out on the beach right now, but I'm still going to do it."
"I'm coming with you and you're going to pretend to be with me. Understand? Like we're a couple."
I grab his hand. "Come on then, sexy. We're going to make out in the moonlight."
I drag him down to the beach and plop down in the sand.
He wraps the blanket he took from the suite around us.
I close my eyes and take it all in. The smells, the sounds. All of which feel like home.
Except.
Not quite.
"Tell me about your sister," I say to Cooper.
He shakes his head. "It's not a pretty story."
"I'm sure it's not. Please. I need to know."
"She broke up with her boyfriend because he was cheating on her and that's when things changed. He started showing up at her apartment unannounced. Standing outside her car waiting for her after work. Sending her flowers and leaving her notes. Of course, she told him they weren't getting back together, and that he needed to leave her alone. He did for a few months until she started dating again. Then, one night he was waiting for her when she got home. He told her she was his and that if she ever even looked at another man, he would kill her. Before he threatened her, she considered him more of an annoyance, but after that, she was scared. They tried to get a restraining order at that point, but didn't have any proof. So, she started noting all the times he was around. Saved his cards and letters. Finally got a restraining order. Two days after he was notified of the order, he went to her apartment, raped her, and killed her."
My hand flies up to my mouth. "Oh my god."
"The neighbors heard the shot and called the police. There was a standoff and he shot himself."
"That's awful."
"My parents still blame themselves. They tried to get her to stay with them, but she wouldn't listen."
"She was trying to live her life," I say, sort of understanding.