Angel Eyes by Ace Atkins

Author:Ace Atkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-11-18T16:00:00+00:00

27

How do I look?” Jem Yoon said.

“I might just break into ‘On the Street Where You Live.’”

“I don’t know that song,” she said. “Is that good?”

“Only for you and Eliza Doolittle,” I said. “Mainly for you.”

Jem Yoon had on a lacy coral-pink dress that hit her just above the knees and a pair of very tall beige stiletto heels. Her blue hair had been pulled back into a loose little bun with strands of hair hanging down below her elfin ears. The only jewelry she wore was a silver necklace with a mini-padlock as a pendant.

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she said. “I thought you didn’t have a suit.”

“Off the rack from Brooks Brothers,” I said. “They had a little trouble finding a forty-eight-long jacket.”

“I like the tie,” she said. “It fits you.”

“I asked for one with a dancing hula girl,” I said. “But they were out.”

“Shall we?” she said.

I finished the beer I’d been working on before her arrival, paid the tab at the lobby bar, and offered her my arm. We walked out the doors and I handed the valet my ticket. It was a breezy early evening in Hollywood and the sky above the hills was dusky.

“Is Sixkill jealous?” I said.

“I could only get two tickets,” she said.

“And what do they call this wealthy Korean socialite?”

“Jem Yoon.”

“Creative,” I said.

“Yes,” she said. “She’s exactly like me. Only with much more money.”

“And how did she get her money?”

“Her horrible father,” Jem Yoon said. “A real Bond villain a-hole. He sells lasers or something. That would explain my date. I have repressed issues and prefer to be with an older man.”

“Much older?” I said.

“How about respectably older?”

“Is there any such thing?” I said.

“Of course,” she said. “We’ll make it so.”

Jem Yoon cut her eyes at me, a slight grin on her lips, as my rental glided into the roundabout and wheeled its way to the curb. I opened the door for her and walked around to pay the valet. She slid into the seat, knees locked in the tight dress, and the doorman closed it with a snap.

“What do we do if they recognize you?” she said.

“Once I’m inside?” I said. “Nothing. In fact, the plan is that I hope they do.”

“You want to agitate them?”

“Mainly I want to agitate Joseph Haldorn.”

“And what if he has us thrown out?”

“Then we know we’re on the right track.”

We headed out onto Highland and then took La Brea south back to the old mansion where Chollo and I had spent the morning. We drove for almost forty minutes before reaching the West Adams neighborhood. Out front, a car valet service had set up for the event. Instead, we parked a few blocks away, just in case we needed to make a hasty retreat. Jem Yoon was not pleased about the walk in the stilettos.

The entry gate was guarded by two men with thick muscles. One black and one white. Both were bald and wearing black shirts, black pants, and sunglasses. They looked like guys who’d almost made it to the NFL, but didn’t make the cut.

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