City of Fire by Robert Ellis Read Free Book Online Page B

glass.
    They got out of the car and walked through the drizzle toward an aqua blue awning that marked the entrance, the sign by the door too small to have read from the road.
THE DREGGCO CORPORATION
FOOD TASTES BETTER IF DREGGCO EATS IT FIRST
    She saw Novak reading the slogan and turned back to the lot. From the number of cars, less than a hundred people worked here. But what struck Lena most was the lack of any visible security measures. This was Los Angeles. Hollywood might be the gutter. But if the city had a drain, Venice was it.
    “Are you seeing what I am?” she asked.
    “There aren’t any surveillance cameras.”
    “And there isn’t a gate or a guard or even a card-key access box.”
    Novak flashed a subdued smile and reached for the door. “No record of who walks in or who walks out.”
    “Or what time it was when they did,” she said.
    They stepped inside, met by a rush of warm air as they entered the lobby. A young woman dressed casually in jeans and a black V-neck sweater sat on the other side of the counter, answering phones and directing calls throughout the building. As they approached, she signaled with a raised finger to wait while she listened to someone on her headset. Lena noticed the book pack by the woman’s feet. The textbooks on the counter by her mug of hot tea. The receptionist was a college student.
    While they waited, Lena stepped away from the counter. The furniture was sparse, but modern and expensive. On the walls, three high-resolution photographs lit with small tungsten spotlights depicted an apple, an egg, and what looked like a grain of rice in the palm of a child’s hand. There was a stairway leading to the second floor but no sign of an elevator. At the base of the steps a set of double glass doors led to a hallway that cut into the center of the building. Along the hallway were several doors, and like the building’s entrance, they didn’t require an ID card to pass through.
    “I’m sorry,” the receptionist said. “May I help you?”
    Lena returned to the counter as Novak smiled at the young woman.
    “No problem,” he said. “We’re here to meet with Milo Plashett. He’s expecting us.”
    The receptionist’s eyes rocked from Novak to Lena, then back again, her easy manner fading into one of fear as she suddenly realized who they were and why they were here. Word must have gotten out. Because Plashett wasn’t a suspect—the visit more or less routine—Lena had called ahead to make sure that he would be here. Based on what Sanchez had learned from James Brant, Plashett owned the Dreggco Corporation and had hired Brant himself.
    The receptionist pointed to the stairs as she pressed the first button on the telephone console. “Mr. Plashett’s office is at the end of the hall.”
    They crossed the lobby. As they rose to the second floor, Milo Plashett met them in the foyer, shook hands, and introduced himself.
    “This way,” he said anxiously. “Please.”
    They followed him toward the rear of the building. Plashett was on the short side with a robust body, his steps meaty and determined. His scalp was tan, his dark brown hair mostly gone now. Lena figured he was about fifty. As they passed a series of doorways, she spotted a sign on the wall with James Brant’s name on it and gave Novak a nudge. Plashett didn’t notice that they had stopped right away. When he did, he hurried back.
    “May we take a look?” Lena asked.
    “Sure,” Plashett said. “Under the circumstances, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
    Under the circumstances, she thought, maybe he would.
    She stepped into Brant’s office. The room was small and nondescript, his desk and the floor around it piled with stacks of files and loose papers. As she moved to the window, she could see a small piece of the ocean leaking out from between the buildings at the end of the street. On the sill she found a photograph of Nikki Brant, smiling at the camera. Lena recognized the building behind her as well