Tommy snuck a sideways glance at Aster, relieved to see that while she clearly wasn’t about to fold, she was keeping her cool enough not to get confrontational either. It was the best he could hope for, seeing as how she’d decided to take the lead on this one. Though he secretly wished she would’ve just kept her mouth shut and taken the Fifth.
“I’m employed by Ira,” she said. “We all are—except for Ryan, of course.”
Good. Bravo. Well done. Now kindly keep quiet and stop feeding the beast!
“Y’all been drinking?”
Tommy decided it was time to step in. “’Course not. We’re underage.” His gaze met Larsen’s, watching as he threw his head back and roared with laughter as though Tommy had said something hilarious.
“You got anyone to verify your whereabouts?” Larsen said, once he finally quieted down. He paced before them, slowly, leisurely, letting them know who was calling the shots in case that wasn’t already clear.
“I performed there,” Tommy said. “Plenty of people saw me.”
“That right?” Larsen stopped before him and faked like he was impressed. “You’re really moving up in the world, aren’t you? What with your star billing at Ira Redman’s launch party, and your fancy new ride.” He nodded admiringly at the black BMW, though the way his lip curled when he spoke Ira’s name left no doubt he wasn’t a fan.
On the surface at least, Tommy resisted the urge to fidget and forced himself to meet Larsen’s penetrating stare with an impassive gaze as though he had nothing to fear, though inside was a whole other story. His heart was slamming, his gut was wrenching, and rivulets of sweat raced down his chest.
“Reason I pulled you over is because there’s been a disturbance reported at an office park about a mile from here. Any of you know about that?”
Tommy shook his head and fought like hell to leave it at that.
“Seems there’s been a break-in at one of the offices.”
Tommy lifted his shoulders, shifted his weight from foot to foot. The Santa Ana winds were kicking up again, the hot gusts mostly stirring up dirt while providing little relief from the heat. Tommy focused on the stream of cars going past, ducking his head each time one slowed to get a better look at the lineup of unfortunate slobs unlucky enough to get pulled over on a Saturday night. A moment later, he heard what sounded like a bomb going off, and he swung around just in time to see a plume of smoke shooting high into the sky.
Larsen opened his mouth, about to say something more, when his radio crackled with an urgent call and he lifted a finger and moved back toward his car.
“You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” Tommy whispered under his breath, as he nodded toward the smoldering sky just behind them.
“Of course not!” Aster snapped, rolling her eyes for good measure.
A few moments later when Larsen returned, he looked at each of them and said, “Go home. All of you.” They nodded and started to climb inside the car, when he added, “And Aster—”
Tommy watched as Aster turned toward him, their eyes meeting for what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a handful of seconds.
“See you in court,” Larsen spat. Dipping his head, he turned on his heel and made for his car, as Tommy crawled back behind the wheel, started the engine, and eased onto the street.
THIRTY
BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE
“You sure this place is safe?” Ryan paused in the threshold of Aster’s apartment and looked all around, as though he expected the very walls to be bugged.
Though after the run-in with Detective Larsen, Aster figured he couldn’t be blamed. The ride home had been fraught with tense silence, and Larsen’s parting words had left her deeply shaken. She could only assume they all felt the same way.
“Ryan thinks Ira might have something to do with this mess.” Aster peered into the fridge. “But honestly, I don’t see why he’d bother.”
“I’m just not convinced he can be trusted.” Ryan rubbed a hand over his chin, refusing to give in. “Not only have his clubs benefited from the scandal, but he is the one who served you that champagne,” he reminded her.
Aster distributed bottles of water and sank onto the couch beside him. “He’s also the one who hired my attorney and gave me a place to live,” she snapped. “The idea of him setting me up doesn’t make sense.”
Tommy turned away from the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Don’t rule him out just yet.” He cast a glance toward Layla. “I think he deserves a place on the list of possible suspects.”
“Care to elaborate?” Aster was tired of people always questioning Ira’s motives. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have her own suspicions, but for the moment, with her future entirely dependent on Ira’s continued goodwill, unless someone gave her something concrete to go on, she’d just as soon call a halt to the speculating.
Tommy seemed to hesitate, then just as easily dismissed it.
“Look, can we just call a truce on Ira for now and focus on these papers instead? I think I might’ve scored something big.” Layla seemed annoyed. Tired and annoyed. Well, join the party.