Eats to Die For! (8 page)

Zarian popped out of his office a few minutes later and waved me in.

“What have you got?” he asked, and I dropped the burger fragment on his desk. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Hot damn! I'll get it to the lab right away. Sit down, Beauchamp.” I did so. “Did you find anything out regarding Louie?”

“Someone broke into her apartment, ransacked it, and left a bug in it.”

“A listening device?”

“Yes. I found it and flushed it.”

“What do you suppose they were hoping to hear?”

“You're in a better position to say that. Had she been working on a story other than this Burger Heaven one that might be considered dangerous in some quarters?”

“Her last assignment was looking into a billionaire developer who's got the building-and-safety supervisor and half the city council eating out of his trough enough to get waivers on everything, and rip down any historic building that gets in his way. But that story went to press, and while a few sabers were rattled, nothing much came of it.”

“Who's the guy?”

“Nick Bandini. He keeps threatening to run for mayor of L.A., but that would really be redundant since he controls the damn city anyway. Why, what are you thinking?”

“Someone left a threatening voice mail on Louie's machine. It said, ‘You should know better than to eff with us, sister.'”

“
Eff
with us? You mean ‘fuck with us?'”

“I'm trying to be polite. The point is,
us
implies an organization or a company, not just one man, no matter how rich.”

“So you're thinking
us
is the Burger Heaven corporation.”

“Based on the reason she came to me, that has to a consideration.”

“Have you gone to the police about any of this?”

“Um, no, I haven't. I want to do a little investigating myself first without police interference.”

He nodded. “Good move. We've been keeping tabs on the LAPD for some time, even before every other black teen in South L.A. began sprouting a target on their back. The heat doesn't like being on the receiving end of investigations very much. If they were able to trace you back to me, things wouldn't go so smoothly for you.”

I didn't bother informing him that my relationship with L.A.'s finest wasn't that flowery to begin with.

“What about you?” I asked. “Won't they try to shut you down?”

Zarian smiled, and his teeth were alarmingly small, straight and powerful looking. “They can harass and shoot people all they want, but even they know better than to take on the free press. So, Beauchamp, what's your next step?”

“Well—”

Think fast, kid
, Bogie said.

“—there was a woman at the Burger Heaven, Regina, who said she was the one who put on that little show with the people dressed up like food, though she claimed she had never heard of Luisa Sandoval, because Louie was operating under an assumed name.”

“Our people do that sometimes.”

“Right. But this woman claimed that Louie, or whatever name she gave, was fired because she wasn't performing up to par.”

“And you don't think she was leveling with you?”

“Well, it's not like you have to be Meryl Streep to play a tomato. But more to the point, if that's all there was to it, then where is she?”

“You tell me.”

“I think Louie already had already discovered something about the Burger Heaven chain, something concrete and damaging, and believe me, it pains me to say this, since I love their food, but having gotten the goods on them, I think she had to disappear for her own safety.”

“That makes more sense. I was never sold on the abduction theory.”

“Either way, my gut is telling me that something bad is going on, and this Regina might know more about it than she's saying.”

Always trust your gut, young man
, I heard Sydney Greenstreet chortle.

“When I talked to her before,” I went on, “she acted skittish, like she was afraid of someone or something. If I can figure out what she's afraid of, I might able to get her to spill.”

He grinned. “Is that a technical term, spill?”

“It's an old movie term, actually.”

Zarian smiled. “How would you like to keep working for me?”

“You mean in regards to finding Louie? I plan to do just that.”

“No, I mean any time we need an investigator. I'd like to put you on permanent retainer.”

“Oh, well—”

Well what, stupid?
Robert Mitchum asked.
You got something against money
?

“That might impugn my independence a little,” I answered both of them.

“Shit, man, we're the L.A.
Independent Journal
!” Zarian cried. “You can't get much more independent than us!”

“What would this permanent retainer amount to?” I asked.

Zarian shook his head. “I'll put you on the payroll for three-hundred a month. In return, whenever I need you to look into something for us, you're there. You give me first dibs on your time, no matter what else you're working on. If I don't need anything that month, then take the three hundred and go to a Dodger game. It might cover it.”

“I think that could work,” I said. I still had a few vague, unformed reservations about the deal, but those might be chalked up to the fact that I've never had to consider an offer like this, being Paul Drake to someone's Perry Mason.

“Great. Send me an invoice with all your information and I'll put it in the system. Say ‘Retainer Contract Termination date TBD,' or something like that. No need to get too technical. I'll know what it is. Checks are cut at the end of the month. You got anything else for me?”

“No, but you might be able to do something for me,” I said. “Do you have a picture of Louie?”

“Why? I thought you met her.”

“I did, but I want something to show to Regina when I talk to her. She can waffle about the name, but she can't about the photo. It might loosen her up.”

Zarian nodded and then shouted, “Ashley!”, which startled me. A few seconds later the young receptionist walked in.

“Print out a picture of Sandoval, would you?” Once she had turned and gone, Zarian said, “All our files here are digital.”

“I thought you only dealt in files that couldn't be hacked.”

“You want to work for me or you want to be a smartass?”

Can't I do both
? Cary Grant asked inside my head.

“I'll work for you,” I said.

But his comment had set a little bell off in my mind. If the
Journal
used all digital files, then there was little use in looking for Louie's notes on paper. They would more likely be contained on a disk or a flash drive.

I also realized there was no reason to go back to her place and look for it, since Ricky Sandoval had likely called the police already, which meant they might be sniffing around the place, and even if they weren't Avery would be.

I didn't particularly want to see any of them right now.

Ashley returned with a still-warm printout of Luisa Sandoval's headshot and handed it to me. Surprisingly, as attractive as Louie was in person, she did not photograph well. Some people are like that. In Hollywood, they're called stand-ins.

“Thanks,” I said, rising, “I'll let you know what I find out.”

I left the building wishing I could be as skeptical about the notion that Louie had been abducted by someone as Zarian was.

I'd covered a lot of miles today, with the only result being that I'd finally made off with a scrap of hamburger and delivered it, and part of me just wanted to go lock up the office and head home.

But the other part, the one with the promise of a retainer, said that it would be better to try and talk to Regina Fontaine sooner rather than later. If she wasn't in tomato drag today, maybe I could talk to some of the other ingredients.

Once on the freeway, which was slow, but not a parking lot, I turned the news on the radio, but learned nothing other than the serious drought that was crippling California was expected to last until it rained. I've always been a sucker for a well-reasoned argument.

I soon switched over to the CD function and joined
Miklós Rózsa
's portentous theme for
Double Indemnity
in progress. By the time the grandly opened Burger Heaven came into view, Miklós was on to “Parade of the Charioteers” from
Ben Hur
, and I was on my way to realizing I'd been carried away by my expectations.

There were no costumed ingredients outside the restaurant.

Pulling into the lot, I parked and went inside and got in line, purely to ask after Regina.

Since I had eaten nearly an entire Twin Halo combo, followed by a single burger within the last hour, there was no reason to order any food. I wasn't hungry, so despite the aromas coming out of the restaurant and my knowledge of what these things tasted like, hot and juicy, with tangy sauce and crisp lettuce, tomato and pickles, there was no reason on earth that I would—

“I'll have a Single Halo combo,” I heard myself telling the young man at the register, whose fresh-scrubbed face was a map of Iowa.

You're weak
! a piercing voice sneered inside my head.
You've always been weak and you'll never be anything but weak
! Thank you, Joan Crawford.

“And I'd like to speak to the manager,” I added.

“Is there a problem?” the clerk wanted to know.

“Not at all. I just have a question.”

He looked warily at me but relayed my request nonetheless. When my order was ready, a thirtyish, soccer-mom type with a different colored shirt picked up the tray from behind the counter and walked out to see me.

“Hello, sir, I'm Gloria, the manager,” she said, “and I understand you have a question?”

Well, yes, actually,” I said, taking the tray from her, “but I also wanted to say how nice it is to have a BH so close to my office now.”

“Oh, that's terrific, thank you. Do you patronize Burger Heaven often?”

“I do, yes. I love the food here.”

You've eaten enough of it
, Lauren Bacall cracked.

“And we love to hear that,” Gloria replied, unable to hear Baby.

“Good. Now, as for the question, I was wondering if I could talk to Regina.”

“Regina?”

“She's the one who was directing the group of performers you had out front, the ones dressed like ingredients. That's a great idea, by the way.”

“Oh, yes, the Heavenly Host,” Gloria said, smiling. “Each new Burger Heaven restaurant has a Heavenly Host promotion.”

“I met Regina a couple days ago, and I'd like to see her again.”

Her smile froze a little. “I see. Well, that is something that is handled at the corporate level. You know, your food's going to get cold.”

“So you don't know how I can get a hold of Regina?”

“I'm afraid not. Sorry. Look, I hate to see a customer eat less than perfect food. Would you like me to take your combo back and bring you a hot, fresh one?”

“Oh, no, it's all right. Well, thank you for your help.”

“Sorry it couldn't have been more.”

The bloody hell you are
, Jack Hawkins growled inside my head. You remember Jack Hawkins?
The Bridge over the River Kwai
;
Lawrence of Arabia
? Even if his face doesn't ring a bell, you'd remember the voice.

While I was convinced Jack was right, I didn't press the issue. Instead I slid into the nearest empty table and unwrapped my burger. Zarian already had his sample; this one was mine.

If only Orson Welles have lived long enough to experience Burger Heaven.

When I was finished I headed back to the office. I checked my phone machine but no one had called; no one cared. Aye, me.

Given the fact that nothing was going on, I'd be justified in simply locking up and heading home, but there was something I wanted to try first. The less-than-helpful manager at the Burger Heaven had told me Regina had been brought in at the corporate level, but she had not offered any information on how to contact someone at corporate level.

I was pretty sure Burger Heaven was headquartered locally, and I didn't know where. But I had every confidence that my partner, Joe Laptop, would be able to tell me.

I typed in
Burger Heaven
but got nothing but ads and customer rating sites. Surely the thing had a website. I tried
www.burgerheaven.com
, and was informed that such a domain name was up for sale, if I was interested. One would think it would at least have a website. Maybe it did under a parent company, that route went nowhere as well.

This was starting not to make much sense.

“Joe, you've let me down,” I said.
Why not try to find the girl herself
? the unmistakably twangy voice of Harry Morgan said in my head.

“All right.” I typed in
Regina
and
Dancer
and found a half-dozen listings for women named Regina Dancer, none of whom seemed to be my Regina, who worked as a dancer. I tried
Regina Dancer Choreographer
, and found someone named Regina who taught dance classes in Reno.

Finally I tried
Regina Dancer Choreographer Los Angeles
and this time, after some searching, I found the link to a site that featured a professional-looking headshot and resume.

Bingo!

Her name was Regina Fontaine and her resume noted that she had been featured on the television shows
Bunheads
and
Glee
—each time playing a character named “Dancer”—and had staged a dance number for something on cable called
I Hate My Teacher and Want Him Dead
, which so far had managed to escape my attention.