The Enemy Inside Read Free Page A

Serna wasn’t into chocolates,” says Harry. “Watches? Rolexes?” He looks at Ives. “Banking!”
    The kid’s face flushes. He looks up at Harry.
    “Bingo. Well, we can’t put him on the stand,” says Harry. “They won’t need a lie detector to test his veracity. Just measure the movement of his Adam’s apple. I hope you don’t play poker, son. If you ever take it up, try to sit under the table.”
    “You can be sure they will want your passport until this is over,” I tell him. “As for bail, you have a job and contacts in the community. That’s a plus. Superior Court bail schedule says a hundred-thousand-dollar bond for a death case involving DUI. That means you or your parents have to put up ten percent, ten grand.”
    Ives shakes his head, looks down at the table. “I suspect my parents can raise it. But I’ll want to pay them back.”
    “Of course.”
    “And your fees,” he says.
    “Let’s not worry about that right now.” Harry gives me a dirty look.
    “What about the girl, the one you say you met who invited you to the party? What can you tell us about her?”
    “Not much,” he says. “Only met her the one time.”
    “How did you meet her?” says Harry.
    “Let me think. I guess it was about noon. I was out in the plaza in front of my office trying to figure where to go to grab a bite. This girl came up to me, real cute, you know, and she asked me for directions.”
    “To where?”
    “I don’t remember exactly.”
    “Go on,” I tell him.
    “It must have been somewhere close. I mean, she didn’t come out of a car at the curb or anything. Not that I saw anyway. So I assume she was on foot.”
    “Was she alone?” I ask.
    “As far as I could tell, she was.”
    “But you don’t know where she was going?” says Harry.
    Alex shakes his head.
    “And then what?” I ask.
    “We got to talking. She had a great smile. Said there was a party at some rich guy’s house that night. She said she was gonna be there. It might be fun. Said she was allowed to invite some friends. Would I like to go? What could I say? Beautiful girl. I had nothing going on that night. I said sure. She gave me the information . . .”
    “How?” I ask. “How did she give you the information?”
    “A note,” he says. “It had the address and a phone number. The address was the location of the party. She said the number was her cell phone in case I got lost. It wouldn’t have mattered. I went to call her when she didn’t show and my phone was dead.”
    That means we can’t subpoena the cell carrier to try and triangulate the location of the house where the party took place.
    “All I can remember is it was someplace up near Del Mar. Big house in a ritzy neighborhood. I remember it had a big pool, great big oval thing. I might recognize it if I saw it again. The problem is, you use this high-tech stuff, GPS, you tend to rely on it and you don’t remember anything because you don’t have to.”
    Alex is right. How many of us can remember telephone numbers for friends or family? We push a button and it replaces our brains.
    “I loaded the address into the GPS in the car and I didn’t pay any attention. I just followed the verbal directions. It took me right to the front door,” he says.
    And of course Alex’s car, which he borrowed from his parents’ company, was charred in the accident. Its GPS is toast. I make a note to check and see if we can access the information from its provider, OnStar or NavSat or one of the others.
    “Oh, there was one more thing,” says Alex. “She gave me a name. Some guy. She said that if anyone stopped me at the door, I was to tell them I was to be seated at this guy’s table.”
    “What was the name?” says Harry.
    Ives looks at us, first to Harry and then to me. Shakes his head. “I can’t remember,” he says. “Bender or Billings, something like that. I think it started with a B. ”
    “This note, with the address on it. Did she write it down or did