Elvis Cole [11] Chasing Darkness by Robert Crais

Author:Robert Crais
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Los Angeles (Calif.), Private investigators, Detective and mystery stories, Mystery & Detective, General, Fiction, Cole, Elvis (Fictitious character), Joe (Fictitious character), Pike
ISBN: 9780752891613
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2008-07-15T05:00:00+00:00

“Have your father call Casey Stokes. I’m driving there now, so let me know after he speaks with her.”

“I’ll try.”

“One more thing. Were you and your sister close?”

“Well, sure, I guess. What do you mean by ‘close’?”

“If she was seeing someone, would she have told you?”

Michael stared at me for another moment, and finally lowered his hand.

“My sister didn’t share.”

He was still in the window as I drove away.

21

LEVERAGE ASSOCIATES occupied two floors of an older glass building in the downtown business district, not far from City Hall. They were less than fifteen minutes from the Repkos’ home in Pasadena. Michael Repko called back twenty minutes later as I circled the building.

“My dad talked to her. You’re all set up.”

“Okay. That’s great.”

“He kept it vague like you said. He told her you were working for us. He wasn’t so thrilled about that, but he told her.”

“This will make things easier, Michael. I’ll keep you advised.”

I pulled up in front of the building as I closed the phone, parked at a meter, then took the elevator up to the seventeenth floor. It was a nice floor in a nice building with tasteful, conservative decor. Steel letters fixed to the wall read LEVERAGE ASSOCIATES. I identified myself to the receptionist, told her Casey Stokes was expecting me, and took a seat to wait.

I didn’t sit long. An attractive African-American woman in a grey business suit came down the hall. She offered her hand with a quick, professional smile and an expression of condolence.

“Mr. Cole, Casey Stokes. I was Debra’s supervisor.”

“Thank you for seeing me. The Repkos appreciate it.”

“I was surprised when Mr. Repko said there were questions. I thought the case was closed.”

I tried to look noncommittal.

“Something like this happens, families always have concerns. I hope you understand.”

“Oh, of course. Here, we can speak in my office.”

She ushered me along a hall decorated with black-and-white photographs of people and places from the city’s past—the Angels Flight funicular climbing Bunker Hill, Chavez Ravine when it was goat farms and barrio housing, and William Mulholland opening the aqueduct to bring water down from the Owens Valley. Along with the historic scenes were photographs of past state and local politicians of both political parties. I didn’t recognize most of them, but a few had gained national prominence and two had been elected to national office. A Who’s Who of California’s power elite.

Ms. Stokes was saying, “Do you know what we do here, Mr. Cole?”

“You run political campaigns.”

She gave a benevolent smile, as if she was the teacher and I was slow.

“A campaign is a point-in-time event. A political career is an ongoing effort. We manage political careers.”

“Ah. The wizards behind the curtain.”

“Only if we’re successful. We develop election strategies, but we also advise on public relations and help our clients refine or perfect their political identity.”

“If I decide to be governor, you’ll be my first call.”

She laughed. She had a lovely laugh, and a charming, genuine manner.

A faint buzz cut through her laugh, and she took a PDA from her pocket.

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