Fire Point (9 page)

31

Marcus pulled the laptop from his rucksack and dumped it casually on the kitchen table. Loser and two of the other guys were busy cooking while Krank pored over a map that was laid out on the dining-table. Krank glanced at him. ‘Anyone try and access it?’ Krank asked.

‘Yeah, last night,’ said Marcus. ‘Probably one of those security guys my mom has working for her.’

Krank gave Marcus his death stare. ‘Tell me you’re kidding.’

‘Relax,’ said Marcus. ‘They didn’t get past the first log-in, and even if they had, they wouldn’t have known what they were looking at.’

‘We’re taking no chances,’ said Krank. Fingers spread out at the two upper corners of the map, he went back to his studies. ‘You ready for tonight, MG?’

Marcus had hoped that Krank had changed his mind and decided to let her go. After all, she had never actually done anything to Marcus. Not like that stuck-up little bitch Stacy or his mom. He should have known better. Once Krank had decided on a course of action that was it. There was no knocking him off course.

‘You want me to do it?’ Marcus said, looking at Loser.

One of them was busy chopping garlic. He lifted the knife from the cutting board and made a slashing motion in the air. ‘It’s easy, dude. Just slice her carotid. She’ll be done in, like, five, ten minutes.’

‘Yeah, I want you to do it,’ said Krank. ‘You’re the only one who hasn’t popped his cherry. How can we take you along on this,’ he stabbed a finger at the map, ‘if you’re still a virgin? Blood in, remember.’

‘I thought that maybe taking that shot at—’

He was cut off before he could finish. Krank was getting pissed. He stood up and glared at Marcus. ‘What’s “maybe”? What does “maybe” count for? No. Tonight you do her. She goes. We shouldn’t have kept her here this long in any case. Too risky.’

Marcus was cornered. He swallowed hard. He really didn’t want to do this. He wasn’t sure he could, even if he’d wanted to. As ever Krank sensed his unease. Krank always picked up on weakness.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘You’ll have some help.’

32

There was a Toyota Prius parked at the front of the Griffiths family home as Lock arrived back. Any other unknown vehicle might have raised his heart rate by a few beats per minute, but Lock had yet to encounter a Prius driver capable of providing a credible threat to someone he was charged with protecting. He got out of the Audi and walked to the front door. Ty opened it as Lock approached and he went inside.

‘Visitor?’ Lock asked.

‘The father,’ said Ty. ‘Showed up about a half-hour ago.’

Lock could see him sitting in the living room with Tarian. Her first husband, Peter Blake, was perched next to her on the couch. A tall, thin man with greying hair and frameless glasses, he was, according to
Forbes
magazine, worth somewhere north of half a billion dollars. He took off his glasses and sat rubbing his eyes. At least Lock now saw where Marcus Griffiths had got his social awkwardness. Everything about Peter Blake, from his body language to a slight stutter as he spoke to Tarian, indicated a man who was far from comfortable in his own skin, never mind the world.

‘Where’s Teddy?’ Lock asked Ty.

‘Sulking in his den with a big ole glass of whisky. You find anything out?’

‘Not really,’ said Lock. ‘Spoke to the girl at USC. Told her to be careful. Guard at the apartment complex is going to see if he can get us some actual names for Marcus’s buddies.’ Lock nodded at Peter. ‘What’s his deal?’

Ty shrugged. ‘You jealous?’ he said.

Before Lock could respond, Tarian called, ‘Mr Lock, would you join us?’

Lock made his way over.

‘This is Peter, Marcus’s father,’ said Tarian.

Peter got up to shake Lock’s hand. He had the grip of a recent stroke victim.

Pleasantries out of the way, Tarian gestured for Lock to sit down. ‘I’ve already told Peter that you’re helping us try to figure out what might be going on with Marcus.’

Lock felt that was a stretch but he let it go. He wasn’t a shrink, and he had no desire to be seen as one. He was interested in psychology in as much as it would allow him to assess whether Marcus was a danger to himself or others. That was where his interest began and ended.

‘When did you last see him, Mr Blake?’ Lock asked, taking a seat across from them.

‘See him? A couple of months ago. But I speak to him regularly.’ Peter glanced over at his ex-wife. From the way he looked at her, it didn’t take a genius to figure that he might have gotten wind of her impending of break with Teddy. ‘I’ve offered him a job with one of my companies. An apartment close to me in Palo Alto. Whatever he needs.’

Lock wondered if Peter had ever taken his son out to a ball game, or coached his soccer team, or done any of the regular stuff. Everything his parents offered Marcus seemed to revolve around material things. Not that they were unique in that regard. That seemed to be most of modern parenting.
Take this, and shut the hell up
.

‘He wasn’t interested?’ said Lock.

‘Sadly, no. That’s why I came down. There have been a few things he’s said to me over the past months that concern me. Outbursts.’

‘Can you be a little more specific?’ said Lock.

Peter took a deep breath. ‘He’s spoken about hurting people. At first I thought he was blowing off steam. You know, teenage hormones, being angry at the world, that kind of thing.’

Lock stayed quiet, allowing Peter to go on. The problem was that Marcus was hardly a teenager. He was a young man who would be held accountable for his actions. Lock wasn’t sure how much of a get-out clause hormones would provide, if Marcus did something really stupid.

‘You never told me this,’ said Tarian. ‘What did he say?’

Peter looked troubled. ‘Some of it was about you and Teddy. And the children.’

Tarian grabbed for his hand. ‘What did he say?’

‘He said that he hoped that one day he’d come home and find you all dead. That he didn’t feel part of the family. That no one cared about him. That you favored the children you’ve had with Teddy more than him. He was venting, Tarian. I’m sure he didn’t mean it. But it did worry me.’

The color had drained from her face. It couldn’t be news to her but to hear it from her ex-husband had to be shocking.

‘Kids say a lot of things in the heat of the moment,’ said Lock, trying to make her feel a little better.

‘This wasn’t in the heat of the moment. He was perfectly calm. That was what worried me,’ Peter said. Tarian still held his hand. ‘I’ve spoken to a family counselor and I think we need to stage some kind of an intervention. Perhaps if we all sit down with him and talk this through we can let him know that we’re here for him. Mr Lock, if you could find a way of getting Marcus back here?’

Lock had the sudden desire to walk out and take Ty with him. This was domestic stuff and, as a rule, he stayed well away from such matters for very good reason. ‘Mr Blake, I’m not sure what Mrs Griffiths told you about me, but I’m not a babysitter. Nor do I help people stage interventions. Now, my business partner and I are happy to gather further information and do a risk assessment on your son. We’re also happy to review security for Mr and Mrs Griffiths. But that’s it.’

Tarian stood up suddenly. ‘An intervention? With all of us? That might work. Let me go speak to Teddy.’

Lock watched her leave the room. It was as if she hadn’t heard him.

‘You know,’ Lock said, ‘you might want to speak to someone with expertise in this area. If Marcus is demonstrating violent tendencies, pushing him into a corner might have the opposite effect to the one you want.’

Peter seemed to bristle. ‘I think I know my own son, Mr Lock. Now, given that you’re no doubt being paid very handsomely, I’m sure you’ll have no problem accommodating us.’

In the hallway Lock was sure he heard Ty mutter something less than complimentary about the tech tycoon. Neither he nor Ty had much time for entitled assholes.

For a man who had spent time in the military, Lock wasn’t always the best when it came to being ordered around, as more than one officer had discovered. It had held back his career in the Military Police. It had cost him money in the civilian world.

Peter Blake was already wilting under Lock’s stare. ‘Excuse me?’ said Lock.

‘I don’t mean to sound like I’m telling you what to do,’ he stuttered.

‘Uh-huh,’ said Lock. Maybe this was another clue to why Marcus had turned out as he was. He was surrounded by parents who thought that money was a substitute for persuasion or good manners. People did what you wanted them to do. Then, of course, you got into the real world and discovered that life didn’t work like that. At least, not all the time.

Stacy had told Lock that Marcus’s first attempts to woo her had revolved around a date she hadn’t realized was a date. That had been followed by a series of expensive gifts that had creeped her out rather than softening her. ‘It was as if he thought he could buy me,’ she had told Lock.

‘If you need an extra fee for tracking down my son and making sure he’s here and that he stays—’ Peter said.

‘He stays?’ Lock asked. ‘You planning an intervention or a kidnapping, Mr Blake?’

‘A friend I spoke to told me that sometimes people can be initially resistant to having a dialogue and confronting their issues.’

Confronting their issues, thought Lock. Right now he was fantasizing about pulling his SIG and helping Peter Blake confront some of his. What the hell had happened to America that no one could speak plain English anymore? Instead they descended into psychobabble, with emphasis on the babble. ‘
If
your son wants to sit down with you, that’s up to him. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .’ Lock walked out of the room leaving Peter stumbling over a half-assed apology.

In the hallway, he told Ty, ‘Five minutes we’re out of here.’

‘You got it,’ said Ty.

Lock headed for the den. It was located near the back of the house and looked out over the pool, spa and barbecue area. Not that Teddy could see the view as he’d had heavy-duty blinds installed, along with the home-theatre system and another wet bar, with enough whisky to maintain the population of a small Irish island during a bad winter.

He hadn’t even pushed open the door when he heard the shouting. It was a real old-school knock-down, drag-’em-out, no-blow-too-low domestic. He knocked at the door and waited.

‘Well, maybe if you could actually get it up once in a while instead of drinking yourself to death, I might not have had to file for divorce.’

‘Oh, fuck you, Tarian. You were sleeping around long before any of this.’

‘You’re so full of shit.’

‘What about that Pilates instructor then? The one with the lisp.’

‘He was from Barcelona. They all speak like that, you redneck asshole, and he was gay for your information.’

Lock knocked again, this time louder. The shouting match seemed to die down. Finally, Teddy opened the door. Tarian was pacing the den behind him. She was crying. Lock did his best to remind himself that their marriage, or divorce, was none of his business.

‘I think we’ve done what we can here,’ he said to Teddy.

‘But we need you,’ said Teddy, as Tarian stalked over to them. ‘You can’t leave. Not without giving us some notice. I mean, what if someone comes to the house.’

Lock looked at them both. At least he’d stopped them fighting. ‘Ty will be back tomorrow to suggest some updates to your security. If I find out anything more about your son, I’ll let you know. But there’s nothing more for me to do.’

‘What about the intervention?’ said Tarian. She seemed to be genuinely upset by Lock’s leaving. He wondered if it was personal.

‘Oh, sweet Jesus,’ said Teddy. ‘An intervention. What we gonna do? All sit round the barbecue pit singing “Kumbaya” until the little psychopath finds the Lord?’

Tarian drew back her hand to slap Teddy’s face. From pure reflex, Lock reached out and grabbed her wrist. He didn’t have time to think about. It was an action that was ingrained in him. Teddy took a step back, leaving Lock eye to eye with Tarian.

‘Can I let go now?’ he asked her.

Her eyes were still moist from tears. There was something behind them too. Not rage. Despair, maybe. Or defeat. She was trying to do her best but her best wasn’t good enough. Lock felt for her. He couldn’t help himself. She and Teddy must have seen something in each other at one point. They’d not only gotten married but had stayed together long enough to have two kids. Lock wondered where it had gone wrong. It was different for women, and especially a woman who was finishing her second marriage. It wasn’t fair that it was different, but it was.

‘I lost my temper,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’

Lock let her go but it took a moment for her to move her arm away from him. She never broke eye contact. He really did need to get out of there.

‘You and me both,’ said Lock.

He turned and walked back to the hallway where Ty was waiting for him with their overnight bags, packed and ready to go. The last thing he heard as he left was Tarian Griffiths calling after him.