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  Alisa bought a stack of nutritional books aimed at rebalancing the body and had them sent over to his apartment. She also offered to pay for half of the expenses for renting the cabin. Ralston appreciated her offer. He wasn’t exactly rolling in money.

  He was wrapping up a project with a studio and figured he could be on the road to the cabin with Ava in two weeks. Ava had even mentioned that if they could “just get away,” she thought she could hit the reset button on her life. It made him feel better about his plan. Maybe there was hope after all.

  That hope faded after about two days. Ava’s hybrid was repossessed, and at first Ralston thought that might be a good thing. It was better that she wasn’t driving. Then she took another turn for the worse.

  She disappeared for three days and came back with needle marks in her arms. When Ralston asked her where she had been, she told him she didn’t want to talk about it. She pushed past him and went into the bathroom to take a shower. She was in there for hours, and Ralston could hear her crying the entire time. He needed to get her the hell out of L.A.

  He called the producer he was working for at the time and asked to be let go early. The producer said that they couldn’t afford to replace him at the moment and said that he was sorry, but Ralston would have to stay.

  Ralston went in to work the next day and when he came home, Ava was gone again.

  At two in the morning, she called him crying. She was incoherent, but he managed to get her to tell him where she was.

  The abandoned house was near Crenshaw Boulevard in L.A.’s dangerous Hyde Park area. Ralston kicked in the door. There were empty liquor bottles, beer cans, and cigarette butts, but no Ava.

  In the back portion of the house, he found a filthy mattress lying in the middle of the floor. A couple of portable lamps were positioned on each side. They had been switched off, but were still warm to the touch. Nearby was the plastic packaging for a particularly vile sex toy. Ralston’s heart sank. He’d been on enough movie sets to know what he was looking at. He needed to find her.

  As he stepped into the kitchen, he heard a noise from outside. It sounded like the lid of a dumpster had been dropped. When he made it to the alley, he saw two men in the distance, running away. He also found a dumpster. Without opening its lid, he knew what he was going to find inside.

  Praying to God, Ralston eventually found the strength to lift the lid. What he saw broke his heart wide open. By the time he dialed 9-1-1, the men he’d seen running from the alley were long gone.

  In the days that followed, the cops asked him a lot about Ava’s drug use. They wanted to know who she bought from. Ralston couldn’t help them. He had no idea. Alisa provided the police with a ton of information. Ava had met her dealer through one of the soap opera’s crew members. Alisa even knew the identity of the next person up who supplied her dealer.

  The detectives found her depth of knowledge interesting, to say the least, and wanted to know how she knew as much as she did. Alisa was no fool. She was an attorney, after all, and never answered the officer’s questions, at least not truthfully. That didn’t come out until the trial.

  Alisa and her father had paid off both the dealer and the supplier to not provide Ava with any more drugs. Both of the subhumans had agreed at first and then tried to extort more money out of the family, threatening to hook Ava on even worse substances. When they refused, the drug pushers had made good on their threat.

  Both Alisa and her father were convinced it was the same two men who had been responsible for Ava’s death. Putting them at the scene of the crime would have been all that was necessary to secure a conviction. But as much as Ralston wanted to see the people responsible for Ava’s death pay, he hadn’t seen the faces of the men in the alley. He couldn’t ID the two drug dealers as the figures he’d seen running away from the dumpster.

  Even the district attorney tried privately to convince Ralston to testify against the two men. They were career criminals with horrific records. It didn’t matter if they were really the ones who were responsible. They had been responsible for untold suffering, and if they didn’t kill Ava, they were going to wind up killing someone else’s son or daughter.

  The arguments were not lost on Ralston. At the very least, these were the men who had gotten Ava hooked on drugs and continued to feed her addiction. But Ralston had only one thing that truly belonged to him in life: his honor. As much as he wanted to kill both the pushers with his bare hands, he couldn’t lie. He could not positively identify them as the two men from the scene.

  Without his testimony, the case had fallen apart and so had his relationship with Ava’s family. They had needed him, and in their minds, he had let them down.

  Now, several years later, he needed them. “I understand why you’re still angry,” he said.

  “Are you patronizing me? Boy, do you have balls. You know, I should have had you drummed out of the business.”

  “Alisa, I need your help.”

  The woman laughed. “You want my help with something? Let me rephrase my prior statement. You have colossal balls.”

  Ralston considered telling her that not a day went by that he didn’t think about Ava; that he didn’t wish for some sort of penance he could perform for letting Ava down. Though he knew Ava’s addiction was just that-Ava’s addiction-he still felt incredibly guilty for her death. He tortured himself wondering whether, if he had quit the movie he’d been working on, he could have gotten Ava up to that cabin and gotten her sober. He wondered what would have happened if he’d chased those men down the alley. Would he have been able to ID them in court? Would he have even survived the altercation? All he had was the tire iron from his car. What if they’d been carrying firearms?

  “I never wanted Ava to die,” he said. “Please.”

  There was silence, several moments of it.

  “Please,” he repeated. “I need your help.”

  Alisa knew that Ralston was a good man. She also knew that the men accused of Ava’s death were the ones who were responsible. She was one hundred percent sure about that. Ralston had allowed Ava’s killers to go free. It made it very difficult to hear from him now, much less be asked to help him.

  “If this is about cozying you up to one of my firm’s clients to help you get some movie deal, I swear to God I’ll make good on my promise to kill you. Do you understand that?”

  “It’s not about business. I’m in trouble.”

  “If you need a lawyer, you’ve come to the wrong place,” replied Alisa. “You’ll have to find somebody else.”

  “No,” said Ralston. “I don’t need a lawyer. At least not yet.”

  She had no idea what was going on, but he definitely had her attention. “What have you done?”

  “I’ll explain it when I see you.”

  “Oh? Just like that we’re having a meeting?” she replied. “Sorry, I’m booked.”

  “Damn it, Ali. This is serious.”

  “What this is, Luke, is my time, which gets billed at eight hundred and seventy-five dollars an hour. At least, that’s what I get paid when I am working, which is what I was doing before you called pretending to be from my children’s school and pulled me away from my client and a very important negotiation I’m trying to hammer out for her.”

  Ralston decided he was going to have to give her something to get her to meet with him. And as strained as their relationship had been, she was the closest thing to family he had. “Did you hear what happened at Larry Salomon’s house?”

  “Did I hear about it? Everyone’s heard about it. It’s all people in this town are talking about this morning. Why would you ask me,” she said, her voice suddenly trailing off. “Tell me you had nothing to do with what took place at Salomon’s house.”

  “I need to see you. I need a favor.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “Ali, please,” he said. “I need to see you.”

  “Did you kill those people?”

  “No comment.”

  “No commen
t?” she replied. “Oh, my God.”

  “Ali, come on.”

  “What happened to Salomon?”

  “He’s fine,” said Ralston. “He’s with me. He can vouch for everything.”

  “Then I suggest you two turn yourselves in to the police. Pronto.”

  “We can’t. At least not yet. That’s what I need to talk to you about.”

  Alisa was quiet as she thought about how to handle it.

  “Are you still there?” Ralston asked.

  “Quiet,” she replied. “I’m thinking.”

  Ralston remained quiet.

  “Where are you?” she finally asked. “Are you somewhere in L.A.?”

  Ralston was hesitant about answering, but realized he was going to have to trust her. “We’re south.”

  “How far south? San Diego? Mexico City?”

  He decided that for the time being it was better for all involved if he didn’t give her too much information. Until he knew for sure that she was on his side, he was going to be very careful. After all, she had promised to kill him. And though he doubted that she really meant it, there was still part of him that knew better than to cross her, or her father. “Can you get down to Manhattan Beach?” he asked, picking a quiet beach community just north of where he was.

  “Well, you certainly can’t come up and meet me in my office, can you?”

  It was a rhetorical question that Ralston didn’t need to answer. “How soon can you be there?”

  Alisa checked her watch. “I’ll have to figure out what to tell my client and cancel the rest of my appointments. Depending on traffic, I can probably be there in about an hour.”

  They picked a place to meet and Ralston said, “Thank you. I really appreciate your doing this for me.”

  “Don’t thank me just yet. Wait till you get my bill. I charge double for travel.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Ralston printed Alisa’s picture from her law firm’s website and gave it to Hank, who made the short hop up to Manhattan Beach to make sure she wasn’t being followed.

  He sat across the street from a small shop on Manhattan Beach Boulevard called Barbie K. Wearing what he referred to as his retired man’s formal attire-flip-flops, T-shirt, and a pair of board shorts-he fit right in with the rest of the locals.

  Ralston had picked the small boutique off the Internet and told Alisa that there would be an envelope waiting for her when she got there. She wasn’t crazy about all the cloak-and-dagger, but she had agreed.

  Ralston figured his picture had to already be circulating with the police. It was only a matter of time before it wound up on the news and he was named as a “person of interest.” The last thing he wanted was to meet Alisa anywhere near a television set or where a police car might roll by. Fortunately, California offered the perfect place for them to meet and talk without being disturbed.

  Knowing what a fashionista Alisa was, especially when it came to her shoes, Ralston had written a note telling her what to buy and where to meet him, and then had Hank leave it with one of the salesgirls at the boutique. Forty-five minutes later, Alisa showed up.

  Fifteen minutes after that, she exited the store wearing a new, much more casual outfit and a sensible pair of shoes. Hank followed her from across the street and watched as she walked back to her car, popped the trunk, and deposited the shopping bag with the business attire and highheeled shoes she had driven down from L.A. in.

  To her credit, she didn’t pull the note back out of her pocket. She knew where she was supposed to go next.

  The street ran downhill toward the ocean, and it was easy for Hank to hang back and watch. Convinced that she was not being followed, he pulled out his cell phone when she got to the little restaurant and called his house. Ralston answered on the first ring.

  “She’s clean,” he said. “I’ll see you in five.”

  Ralston had not wanted to leave Salomon alone. He was still sleeping, but Ralston was afraid of what he might do if he woke up and no one was there. He might rationalize a quick call or email to his office and then all hell would break loose.

  When Hank got back, he described what Alisa was wearing and then handed over the keys to his car. Ralston had borrowed a change of clothes from his friend, plus a baseball cap and sunglasses.

  Hank gave him ten minutes and then picked up his phone. Dialing *67 to block caller ID, he described Alisa to the hostess and asked if she could bring her to the phone. As it was midafternoon, it didn’t take long to track her down.

  “The beach should be very nice right now,” he said, “especially south of the pier.” Then he hung up.

  Alisa went back to her table, paid for her Diet Coke, and left the restaurant. She walked the block and a half down to the beach and stepped onto the sand. The weather had been nice for several days. It was sunny and the sand was warm. She didn’t visit the beach normally at this time of year. In fact, she didn’t visit the beach much at all. Between the kids and work, she didn’t seem to have much time.

  Owing to the unusually nice weather, there were more people out than she would have expected. Only in California, she thought, could this many people avoid work in the middle of the week. She looked around for Luke, but she didn’t see him, so she continued walking toward the water.

  The waves were a decent size and there were dozens of surfers bobbing up and down in the ocean, waiting for the next one to carry them in.

  At the water’s edge, she removed her sandals. It felt good to be barefoot. She watched as a nice wave began to form and the surfers paddled hard to catch it. Tilting up her face, she stood for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the sun.

  She had no idea Ralston was standing behind her until he spoke. “Hello, Ali.”

  Alisa didn’t turn around. She wasn’t ready yet. She stayed where she was, her face upturned to the sun. “When you close your eyes and listen to the sound of the ocean, it’s hard to imagine there’s anything wrong in the world.”

  Ralston let her have a few more seconds of soaking up the sun. The years had been kind to her. Being a mother, a wife, a successful attorney, it all seemed to agree with her. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. She had long, black hair and green eyes just like Ava and the same long, dark eyelashes. She kept herself in very good shape, but the sex appeal she radiated was different than her sister’s had been. Alisa’s sex appeal came not so much from her looks, but from her self-confidence. “How about a walk?” he finally said.

  She nodded and they walked along the water’s edge, away from the pier. Ralston seemed to have trouble deciding what to say, and it was Alisa who broke the silence. “I’m billing you for the new clothes, as well as my travel time.”

  Ralston smiled. “Fair enough.”

  “You want to tell me what happened?”

  He did. He wanted to tell her all of it, but he needed to be careful. “Last night would have been Rachael Salomon’s twenty-first birthday. Rachael was Larry’s daughter.”

  “Wasn’t she killed on a trip to Israel or Egypt?”

  Ralston nodded. “Israel.”

  “Did they ever catch who did it?”

  “The Israelis had their suspicions, but no, they never did catch who did it.”

  “That must have been very painful for him.”

  The irony of the two situations wasn’t lost on him. “Rachael was the Salomons’ only child, and it ended up destroying their marriage. Elizabeth left Larry and moved back to Manhattan.”

  “That’s very sad,” said Alisa.

  “I don’t think she liked L.A. and the movie business much anyway,” replied Ralston. “But it is sad.”

  “As my father says, The truest test of gold is fire.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s fine. Still practicing law.”

  Ralston smiled again. “I know. I see his name in the papers all the time.”

  “Without promotion,” Alisa said with a smile as she quoted him again, “something terrible happens… nothing!”r />
  Ralston chuckled. “Your father has always been a smart guy and he makes sure everyone knows it. I remember that joke he told me the first night I came to the house.”

  Alisa rolled her eyes. “The whole It takes at least two Jews to outsmart an Armenian?”

  “He’s definitely proud of his heritage.”

  “My mother’s Jewish and she absolutely hates that joke.”

  “I know,” said Ralston. “Ava told me after we left that night. Your mom puts up with a lot, but deep down she loves your father’s big personality.”

  The mention of Ava brought a lull to their conversation. A wave broke and washed up onto the beach. Neither of them moved out of its path. The wet sand was heavy and difficult to walk through.

  “You know, my parents liked you a lot,” Alisa said.

  “I liked them, too.”

  “You were the first person that Ava brought home that my dad didn’t complain about as soon as you were out the door. Everybody else tried to impress him. You didn’t. He liked that.”

  “He wasn’t crazy about me being older than Ava, though,” said Ralston.

  “True, until my mom reminded him that they had the same age difference.”

  Even though it was small talk, the conversation was good for both of them. They both needed to heal. As Ava’s older sister, Alisa had felt partly to blame for Ava’s death. That guilt had been projected onto Ralston for not testifying. She needed to stop blaming him for the pain she felt over Ava’s death, and Ralston needed to stop blaming himself. They both needed to let go and to be let go.

  “How’s Brent?” Ralston said, changing the subject to Alisa’s husband.

  “He’s fine.”

  “The kids?”

  “They’re good too,” she replied, “but we could have done the whole How’s your family thing over the phone.”

  Ralston knew that wasn’t true. They needed to see each other. They needed to acknowledge together that Ava was gone. They needed to close that chapter and, as painful as it was, put it behind them. It was the only way they could move forward. It was the only way that he could be sure that she would help him.