Too Many Brothers. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ name two, yes.”

      Daphne spared him a sidelong glance. “I’ve lived on the fringes of Hollywood my whole life. I know rich-and-famous kids who spent more than their school lunch money to stay stoned out of their minds.”

      “Did you know any dealers? Do you now?”

      “No. I always figured it was better not to know. I didn’t use, or run around with kids who did.” She shrugged. “I was never very popular.”

      “Now that I find hard to believe.”

      She sent him a dirty look. As dirty, at least, as a clown with a painted-on smile could deliver.

      “Are they still on our bumper?” he asked, not wanting to turn around.

      “Yes,” she said, making a right turn and then a left. “Dang, I thought that maneuver might confuse them. They seem acquainted with all our one-way streets. Shoot, I’m afraid I really tipped them off.”

      Logan squinted into the sun to read the next street signs. “Go up Linda Vista and join the Foothill Freeway. From there, see if you can disappear in heavy traffic. Then swerve onto the Glendale Freeway. Follow it all the way down to the Golden State. If they’re unaware the feds have a branch office here, it may throw them off the track long enough to let me slip out and double back. I just don’t want to leave them following you. By the way, where do you live? And do you live alone or with family—or with a significant other?”

      “Alone.” She gave him the coordinating cross streets for her apartment. “Why do you need to know where I live?”

      “Because I may have to go home with you to make it look convincing to these jokers if they’re too persistent.”

      “What? No way! I just told you I live alone.”

      “How many people in your building know that?”

      “A few. I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

      “It is if our tails get nosy and start asking questions around here. If they weren’t suspicious of us—of me—I think they’d already be peeling off to look elsewhere. They know where I live. I’m sure someone’s watching my condo.”

      “I suppose you can come up for a little while. How do you plan to leave my apartment, though—and when?”

      “I’ll think of something. I hate to ask a fellow agent to extract me, but if all else fails, I will. Those jerks behind us don’t know your name. You didn’t give it to Razor, did you?” Logan leveled a serious look at Daphne.

      “I said we booked birthday parties as Bozo and Buzzy. I said I didn’t have any business cards with me. Your friend wasn’t interested. I pretended I thought he had a child and was checking the party because he might want to book us.”

      “That was good thinking,” he said somewhat unwillingly.

      “Thanks.” Her response was dry.

      “No, I mean it. Have you considered going into police work yourself?”

      “Are you kidding? With my work history?” She laughed hilariously as she navigated up the ramp onto the first of the three freeways.

      “It couldn’t be too bad. You aren’t that old.”

      “Part-time jobs have been my downfall,” she muttered with a grimace. “I figured anyone could be a waitress. I’ve certainly encountered some ditzy ones. But my first day on the job, I dumped Caesar salad in the lap of a really big movie star. I guess you could say I got blackballed from working at any local restaurants where there’re decent tips.”

      “So, your mistake was in assuming that waitressing’s easy.”

      “On my next job, I tried lifeguarding at Santa Monica Beach.”

      “Can you swim?” Logan asked carefully.

      “Yes, don’t be an idiot. I swim fine. I just couldn’t rescue a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound doofus who almost drowned himself and me. He was drunk out of his gourd, and his buddies thought the way he fought me was really cute.”

      “Well, jeez, what do you expect if the guy outweighs you? Cripes, you can’t weigh more than a hundred and thirty.”

      “A hundred and twelve to be exact. But the instructor who trained me insists its not a matter of weight but of leverage. So I still got fired.”

      “That’s just two jobs. It’s obvious you didn’t give up.”

      “No. I applied for and got a job as a dog walker. I screwed up at that, too.” She sighed.

      “That job seems like a no-brainer if you don’t mind my saying so. What happened?”

      “You won’t believe it,” she responded glumly. “My family still can’t. The agency I signed up with had some high-toned clients. I was assigned to meet dog owners at the valet parking for Rodeo Drive. In a way it was my own fault. My first time out, I was to walk three chows. You’ve seen chows? They’re big and fluffy and red. This particular threesome turned out to be pampered and undisciplined as well. The owner, a star who shall remain nameless, neglected to tell me they had a hankering for a certain French poodle. Her owner operated a ritzy accessory shop on the Drive, where I was told to walk the dogs. I tried my best to hold the chows back when we passed this place. Suffice it to say that before the walk ended, we’d wiped out the awnings of two elite establishments. My dad coughed up for the damages. I won’t even tell you what he had to lay out in cold cash. I am going to pay him back, though.”

      “What made you decide to try being a party clown, of all things? That seems like a job with built-in drawbacks. Kids bite, kick and spit. Mothers never believe their rug rats are at fault.”

      “Oh, I’m only doing this temporarily while I wait to hear on a job at one of the movie studios. My family talked me into giving college another stab after the last disaster. They weren’t overjoyed when I chose to become a makeup artist. But I’m good at it, and I think it’ll be exciting and rewarding work. No two movies are ever alike. Plus, I’ll meet a lot of interesting people—including single men. But don’t you dare ask about my history in that department. I’ve spilled all of my life story you’re going to hear, Agent Grant. It’s your turn.”

      “We’ll have to find a different subject, then. Damn, I see we haven’t lost our shadow. If I’m not mistaken, the next off-ramp is the one you need to take.”

      “So it is. Does this mean you’re really coming to my apartment?”

      “I’m afraid so,” Logan said slowly. He checked and re-checked the car following them without giving the appearance that he was doing so.

      “Then you can tell me all about Logan Grant. Must be a fascinating life you lead, what with criminals chasing you around, driving you into the back bedrooms of virtual strangers.”

      “It was my sister’s bedroom. She’s hardly a stranger. And that doesn’t happen often. Agents aren’t supposed to talk about their private lives,” he muttered. “However, I will tell you that drugs aren’t all we suspect these men of trafficking. Don’t worry, though, I’m not planning СКАЧАТЬ