CHAPTER 22

.22.

I didn’t sleep well. The sound of the Pacific, which had been a lullaby in Waikiki, felt like a threat in Malibu. It’d been a persistent, rhythmic thud against the shore that sounded too much like someone trying to break into the house. By the time the sun finally crawled over the Santa Monica Mountains, I was on my third cup of Birdie’s black coffee, watching the mist cling to the windows like a shroud.

Jimmy came out of his room around 8:00 AM. He wasn’t the whiskey-bent prince of the night before, though. He was wearing a charcoal suit that fit him like armor and a look in his eyes that I’d only seen once: the moment he’d decided to swim back into the July surf to prove he wasn’t dead.

“We’re going to the city,” he said. No “good morning,” no “how did you sleep.” Just a declaration of war.

***

Jimmy had over one hour to explain the whole corporate intrigue to me while hitting the gas like he was driving a red bat out of hell.

As it happened, Ole had only 2% of RDP, the Royal Danish Pastries business, a gift from Jay when his much younger brother had finally tied the knot. It seems the marriage had died young, but Jimmy didn’t want to go into that. It wasn’t relevant, either; just like the PI business.

What really mattered here was that, due to some arcane rule put in place when Jimmy was just a baby and never revoked, as soon as the Old King had been pronounced dead, Uncle Ole had become Interim President of the Royal Danish Pastries company.

And he would keep that post until probate. This meant that Uncle could play King for up to three months. That was a long time.

Unfortunately for Jimmy, until probate, there was nothing he could do.

Officially.

What he could do, what he wanted to do, was to make sure that everyone at RDP was very much aware that as soon as he became the major stakeholder, he would be put up the gallows and make all the traitors dance. And this trip to LA today was about making it clear for everyone as soon as possible.

At the risk of causing an accident, I dared to ask: “What about your mother?” I wanted to know whether the sudden marriage was about love or business, but I thought that leaving that part out of the question would be better for everyone on the road.

Jimmy gripped the wheel tighter. He was wearing sunglasses so I couldn’t see his eyes, but I’d bet they looked like bullets. “She says she’s doing it for me.”

“What?”

“So that I can live my life. She says Uncle Ole will run the company even better than Father did.”

“And after probate?” I asked.

“After probate, she gets 30%.”

“Still,” I noted. “I’m sure you’ll get a lot more than that.”

Jimmy made an odd grin without taking his eyes off the road. “I get 45%. The rest is freefloat.”

“You’ll be able to take control of the company then, right?”

“Yes,” Jimmy hissed. “But only the devil knows what kind of damage Ole will do to the company in 3 months.”

I thought of the wolf in the study, the one telling me he was made of stone. In my bones, I knew Jimmy wasn’t wrong.