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“How long until lift-off?” I ask Katy, accepting my glass from her, while Lori fires up the power on her MacBook.
“Another fifteen minutes,” she says. “That’s a slight delay, I know, but the pilot assures me we’ll make it up in the air.”
I glance at my watch, which now reads one o’clock in the morning. “Arrival time will be four in the morning LA time?” I ask.
“I’ll confirm the exact time after consulting the pilot’s flight plan,” she says. “Will you both be wanting snacks or sandwiches tonight once we’re in the air?”
“Yes,” I say, since I doubt Lori has eaten any more recently than me and to speed this up. “For now,” I say, “we need privacy to make a few private phone calls.”
“Yes, of course,” she says, hurrying away, and pulling the curtain shut behind her.
“Didn’t you say you represented this new client’s father?”
“Correct,” I confirm.
“Then why did she need to call Ashley in Paris to get your number? I assume with as high a profile as her father’s case was, you gave him your cell phone number. Are they estranged?”
Most people wouldn’t catch that little detail when they should. I’m impressed, but not surprised. “Her father is in Europe and apparently she couldn’t reach him,” I say, “or that’s what she told Ashley.” I motion to the computer. “Are you connected to the internet? Can you search his name for anything new I don’t know about?”
“I already did that while you were talking to Katy,” she says, “and on a cursory glance there is nothing worth mentioning.”
“How did you search him if I never told you his name?” I ask.
“She’s famous,” Lori says. “Her name got me there.”
“What did you find on her?” I ask, knowing at this point that she’s gone there, too.
“Still looking,” she says, glancing over at me. “I need more time to promise you there’s nothing beyond what we know thus far. Often, I find things are hidden deep inside a write-up, and it takes time to find those tidbits.”
“Fair enough,” I say, reaching for my phone. “I’m going to call her and then the detective in charge of the case.” I grab my phone and hit the number Ashley texted me for Tara. She answers on the first ring.
“Cole,” she all but pants out. “I need help. The police—”
“Stop right now,” I say. “Do not say anything to me on an open line and expect it to be private. Now, keeping that in mind, I’ll ask questions, you answer simple. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“First, I’m on a plane waiting for take-off. I’ll be there in the morning along with one of my associates. Two, they want to question you on the death of David Curry, correct?”
“Yes, but I—”
“Yes is enough,” I say. “Did you answer any questions without me?”
“Very few.”
“That’s a yes. I’ll need you to write down the details now while they’re fresh. Who’s the lead detective?”
“Josh Waller.”
“Text me his number. Does your father know this is going on?”
“No,” she says. “He’s in Europe and my biggest fear was that he’d rush back to protect me, which might be what the police want. This is about them using me against him.”
“But you told Ashley you tried to reach him. That was a lie.”
“Yes, but—”
“If you lie to me or my people, I will not represent you. If that’s a problem, tell me now, before the plane I’m sitting on takes off.”
