Chapter 8

Marsh couldn't parkthe RX fast enough once they finally reached their destination in Newport Beach. Catch Me looked like a nice enough place, an upscale eatery on the channel, but Marsh's aching back and legs distracted him from the view. What should've been an hour and fifteen-minute drive had stretched over two and would have stretched longer if Levi didn't seem to know every shortcut in southern California.

The FBI agent waiting for them on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant looked similarly displeased at their delay until he saw Jamie climbing out of the passenger seat. The two were old friends from when Jamie was at MIT, and Matt had been partnered with Jamie's best friend, Cam. "I didn't expect to see you until the weekend," Matt said, LA doing nothing to diminish his New York accent. "What are you doing here early?"

"Matty K," he huffed, hands over his chest, pretending to be injured while doing his best Cam impression. "You don't love me no more?"

"Don't you start with that nickname too!" Smiling, Matt swatted at him once before yanking him into a hug. "Of course I still love you."

Marsh missed having Matt in the San Diego office, the agent briefly partnered with Levi, but from the few times he and Levi had met up with Matt the past year, it was obvious Los Angeles was a better fit for him. "Hope you don't mind the surprise," Marsh said as he took his turn for a hug.

"Not at all, and I don't mind meeting here either." He jutted his chin at the restaurant. "Been meaning to visit this place."

"We're not here to eat, unfortunately," Levi said.

"Doesn't look like we could get a table anyways," Marsh added. All the sidewalk patio tables were full, and a steady stream of summery dressed people continued to go in and out the front doors.

"I didn't mean for the food," Matt said, and the change in his tone from jovial to serious was enough to draw all their glances.

Levi shifted them out of the middle of the sidewalk and off to the side of the patio, out of anyone's earshot. "Explain," he said to Matt. "We're here because the late co-owner was also the owner of a house one of Jamie's former players bought. Had some trouble there the other night."

"Unrelated, I think," Matt said, then turned his attention to Marsh. "Remember that jewel thief case? The one you hacked some info on for me when you were trying to get into my good graces." He tilted his head toward Levi. "And into his pants."

Marsh smirked. "I remember. You still working it?"

"In my spare time. Following the money like we did on the Eder case."

"And it leads here?" Levi asked.

"Maybe. There are some interesting influxes of cash, all coming roughly the same number of days after each theft."

Jamie said the thing they were all thinking. "Laundering."

"That or their funding lines up too perfectly."

Marsh had heard enough to be doubly intrigued now. He removed his hat and gestured toward the door. "Let's go find out."

Matt led the way, having already spoken with the host, not wanting to cause a scene. Good thing as their group looked distinctly too suited for the casual crowd. She led them through the main dining room to a private one behind sliding barn doors. Inside, Luis Rivera, the man they were there to see, sat chatting over empty plates with a white man dressed in entirely too much black for a hot, summer day.

The two men glanced their direction, and Marsh was struck by the stranger in black's appearance, familiar somehow but he couldn't place him. The stranger seemed to place Matt, though, his gaze darting directly to the other agent, same as Matt's had to him. And staying there while the host spoke quietly to Rivera. After a moment, Rivera broke the staredown, sharing a few words with the stranger, then a hug before the man in black disappeared with the host through a door to the kitchen.

"Gentlemen." Rivera gestured them over. "Please, come have a seat."

Levi led the way, hand extended. "Assistant Special Agent in Charge Levi Bishop." They exchanged friendly handshakes, then each of them in turn, Rivera insisting they call him Luis, before everyone claimed chairs around the table. "Shame I didn't have my son's Remedy album with me," Levi said. "Ryan is his favorite."

That'swho the stranger had been—Ryan Lassiter from David's favorite band, Remedy. There was a poster of him in David's room.

"Can't Gino get it signed for you?" Marsh said. "What's the point of having a rock star cousin if you can't call in the occasional favor?"

"Gino Morelli of Middle Cut?" Luis said, his eyes sparkling. "He and Bennett used to be in here all the time. I miss them so much."

"That's them," Levi said with a nod. "And yeah, they've been on tour nonstop these past few years." So much so they'd missed Gino's sister's wedding last year. Only security had shown, not the rock stars.

"Well, if you need Ryan's signature," Luis said, "just let me know."

"How do you two know each other?" Matt asked.

"He was a close friend of Ward's." Luis dipped his chin and crossed himself, muttering a quick prayer for this late friend, before lifting his face and starting again. "Ryan's been a lifesaver. He helped me go through the house after and still drops in whenever the band is in town."

"You and Ward were close too?" Jamie asked.

"We met at a food truck years ago, and by the end of that day, he was my best friend. It was like I'd found the brother I never had. We opened Catch Me together a year later."

"How many concepts have opened together?" Levi said.

"We're"—Luis paused, swallowed hard, then corrected himself—"I'm opening the sixth RW Kitchen concept next month." He ran a shaky hand over his face, then through the tight dark curls on top of his head. "I'm sorry. He's been gone over a year, and I'm still not used to it."

"That's a lot for one person," Marsh said. "We're sorry for your loss."

He dropped his arm, looking sad but resigned. "After what happened, I couldn't let the RWK dream die. That's the last thing he would've wanted."

"After his suicide," Marsh said, skirting the line between question and statement.

Luis's answer was firmly on the side of doubt. "Right."

"You don't seem to believe that," Levi said, picking up on the same skepticism in Luis's voice. Matt and Jamie too, judging by the way they leaned forward in their seats.

Luis pushed back from his, standing. "Can I get anyone a drink?"

They all declined but gave Luis the time he seemed to need. He refilled his glass and stared out the windows at the channel. "I was the one who found him the first time he tried. We'd had back-to-back-to-back failures, concepts that never even made it to opening, and we were losing investors. He always put so much pressure on himself, which was dangerous for someone who suffered from anxiety and depression." He turned away from the water, darkness clouding his expression, his light brown eyes hardening with certainty. "I knew what my best friend looked like, how he acted like during a depressive episode." He shook his head as he sank back into his chair. "This wasn't that. Fuck, we'd just opened our fourth place together and were booked solid. We were on top of the world."

That was consistent with the financials they'd reviewed that morning. Granted, money did not equal happiness, and sometimes success was the worst kind of pressure, but Luis made a convincing case, one that was backed up by years of friendship.

Levi seemed similarly convinced, aiming his questions a different direction. "Had Ward mentioned any issues at his place in Cardiff? Break-ins or anything suspicious?"

"No, nothing. He loved that fucking house, and I'll admit, the view was incredible. But it was also creepy as fuck."

"Creepy?" Marsh asked, keying in on the same isolated vibes he'd picked up there.

Luis's expression darkened once more, but this time the guilt mixed with the pain was unmistakable, from the downturned corners of his mouth to the averted gaze to the blush that hit his brown cheeks. "I once told him that lagoon was the perfect place to hide a body. Still haven't forgiven myself for that joke."

Marsh clasped his shoulder in sympathy, recalling similar comments about desert sand worms eating people whole. And then he'd served there and lost colleagues to the other very real dangers hiding in the sand. No doubt that one jest had been eating Luis up inside every day for the past fifteen months. Probably why Lassiter was checking in on him more too.

"Did Ward have any other enemies?" Jamie asked after Luis took another sip of water. "Folks who might've wanted to harm him?"

Luis shook his head. "Everyone loved Ward. That's why he ran the front of house operation and I dealt with the kitchens. He was far more of a natural at it."

Marsh didn't doubt that about Ward, but he thought maybe Luis wasn't giving himself enough credit. He'd been the picture of hospitality with them, even as they'd discussed a difficult, painful topic. He wasn't holding anything back. Marsh wondered if he'd been as forthcoming with the local authorities. "Did you go over all this with the sheriff's department at the time?"

Luis nodded, and Levi beat Marsh to the next question. "Did they ever follow up with you?"

"Not once," he said, voice firmer than Marsh had heard it all conversation, bolstered by indignation on behalf of his friend. "They got his medical records, found the scars on his thighs, and had their answer."

Local blowing off another case involving the same house? Or looking the other way, intentionally, then and now? Or were they just doing so now to cover their asses from before? As much as their FBI team wanted to stay below the radar with this case, it was becoming more and more clear that they needed to have a conversation with the sheriff's department. And soon.

But first, they needed to finish with Luis, Matt already leading him down the final line of questioning. "How familiar are you with RWK's finances?"

"Intimately, now," he said. "Before, that was Ward's domain. I'm the chef; he was the money and concept guy. It's been a crash course, that's for sure."

Levi withdrew the folded bank records from his coat pocket and pushed the several highlighted sheets in front of Luis. "These are influxes of cash the company received. Do they look familiar to you?"

"Funding rounds," Luis answered without hesitation. "After Ward's death, I had an accountant go over everything and bring me up to speed. I saw those numbers too and was like, woah. I hired someone independent, on Ryan's recommendation. I wanted to be sure it was all legit. The way we'd bounced back after those losses..." He smiled, small but proud of what he and his friend had achieved. "It was humbling to know folks in the industry believed in us like that. That they still do." His words got scratchy, thick with emotion, and he cleared his throat before going on. "I've got the backup for everything. I can send over whatever documents you need."

"We'll get you a list," Levi said. "Thank you." He asked around the table for more questions and, hearing none, stood, Marsh and the others following suit. "If you think of anything else," Levi said, handing Luis his card, "that's my number. And Agent Kim is based here in Los Angeles."

Matt handed Luis his card too. "We will follow up with you."

Luis thanked them, then slipped into the kitchen, seeking comfort in the familiar, while the host reappeared and led their group back out the way they'd entered. Once outside, Matt let his neutral face fall, the agent looking like he needed some comfort too.

"Sorry we couldn't be of more help on your case," Levi said.

"I'm about to call it cold at this point." Matt said with a shrug. "But I'm glad the visit was useful for yours."

"That's another person who doesn't think it was suicide," Jamie said.

"I tend to believe him," Levi said.

"Well, I can tell you what wasn't cold," Marsh said, cutting a mischievous smirk at Matt. "Those bedroom eyes you and the rock star were giving each other."

"We were not."

Jamie snickered. "You totally were."

Matt looked pleadingly at Levi, who was no help either. "The blush on your cheeks also says you were."

"Something you want to tell us, Matty K?" Jamie needled.

Before he could answer, Marsh's phone rang, the ringtone familiar to three out of the four of them. He drew it out and answered on speaker. "Eagle, what've you got?"

"Local caught wind," she answered, sounding at her annoyed worst. "They're sending over Detective Hines. Get your asses back here, now."