The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 259: The Stolen Paris Tape]

Santa Monica, in a single-family home.

Hawke and Edward walked in and found Campos, along with Carlos and Garcia, whose faces were noticeably swollen.

"What happened to you two?" Edward, now quite familiar with them, joked, "Did you take turns slapping each other?"

Carlos managed a painful grin through his puffy face. "It's from wearing fake mustaches for too long, caused an allergic reaction. We've already seen a doctor."

It would have been better if he hadn't said it. As soon as he said this, Carlos suddenly felt a mix of tenderness and itchiness on his face. He quickly pulled out a tube of cream, squeezed some out, and applied it to his reddened skin. "During the day, it's bearable, but at night, it itches so much that I can't sleep."

Hawke sat across from them. "You guys have had a tough time." He gestured to Edward, signaling him to hand over the packages to the duo.

Edward handed two bags to Carlos and Garcia, encouraging them to take a look inside.

Carlos peeked inside and said, "Boss, there's no need for this. We made a good amount of money from this trip."

Hawke replied, "You did a great job; you deserve a bonus."

He was curious. "So, you actually made some coin?"

"We posed as private detectives and gained Lokni's trust," Carlos recapped briefly. "In total, he gave us around $50,000."

Garcia added, "That Lokni grew up on a reservation, mired in tough circumstances. He learned to hunt with guns from a young age, eventually joining a hunting company where he became a professional guide. He thinks things through and is excellent with firearms."

Hawke found this very familiar.

Edward remarked, "Boss, isn't his profile a bit like yours?"

Hawke laughed. "I've never been a professional hunter."

Garcia pulled out a business card and handed it to Hawke. "I think this guy might be useful, so I got a contact. He's over in Africa now."

Hawke tucked it away, thinking it might come in handy later. He glanced at the duo's puffy faces and then towards Campos. "So, they're off on assignment for a while. Do they get some time to rest?"

Campos replied, "I'll give them a week off."

"Thanks, boss." Garcia and Carlos happily left.

...

Once Edward closed the door, Campos turned to Hawke and said, "Our people we sent to Madrid have been keeping an eye on Beckham and have some findings."

Hawke recalled this. To make Twitter more appealing, he'd asked for several entertainment and sports celebrities to hunt down related gossip.

On the entertainment side, Will Smith and Paris Hilton had sparked significant interest and heated discussions during Twitter's early development. They'd also brought in a wave of traffic thanks to a scandal surrounding Kobe Bryant.

In addition to the basketball star, Hawke had provided Campos with two other sports celebrities: soccer superstar David Beckham and the only golf sensation, Tiger Woods.

Campos had dispatched people to follow both of them. Beckham's fame and influence exceeded that of Kobe Bryant in Europe and North America; Hawke was keenly interested. "Did you manage to get any photos or videos?"

Campos opened his briefcase and retrieved several photos, handing them to Hawke. "We got these, but nothing showing the two together in an intimate moment."

Hawke glanced at the pictures. One featured a young and attractive woman stepping out of the trunk of a Rolls Royce.

Campos explained, "This Rolls is one of Beckham's many cars. At the time, Becker's driver pulled into the hotel's underground parking, and our team followed. We caught the woman as she emerged from the trunk."

Hawke looked closely at the woman in the photo, sensing she seemed familiar. "Is she a celebrity?"

"No, she's Victoria's assistant," Campos clarified. "Her name is Rebecca Loos. Whenever Beckham transferred to Real Madrid this summer, moving to Madrid, Victoria's career kept her in England and America. Rebecca was hired primarily to assist Victoria once she arrived in Madrid."

Edward interjected, "So, Beckham's involved with Victoria's assistant?"

Campos pointed at the photo. "That's evident, but we haven't captured any solid proof yet; without photos and videos, it's not newsworthy."

Hawke studied the images for a moment, recalling the news surrounding Beckham's infidelity.

In the past, it had caused quite a stir. This gossip was much louder than Beckham's infamous dispute with Ferguson. Even in the realm of scandals, the enthusiasm for romantic entanglements was far more buzzworthy than mentor-mentee fallout.

Hawke said decisively, "If possible, try to capture photos or videos."

"They're trying," Campos continued with updates from Madrid. "One of our female staff members had a brief encounter with Rebecca Loos. She embodies the typical Spanish mindset. To them, having a lover isn't a big deal. It seems Rebecca's motivated by the desire for fame or money..."

Hawke understood his meaning: "If you can't get the shot, perhaps someone should engage her."

Campos nodded, "First, let's aim for photos or videos. If that fails, we can make contact later."

"Sounds good."

With business out of the way, Edward looked at the woman in the photos and remarked, "She's way more attractive than Victoria. Beckham's a real looker, yet he ended up with such an unattractive woman..."

"Is she that ugly?" Campos asked.

"Her chin's too sharp; her face lacks any softness," Edward mused. "With that look, she wouldn't even rank in Hollywood."

"Let's go." Hawke returned the photo to Campos and stood up to leave.

...

Exiting the house, Hawke and Edward hopped into a bulletproof Mercedes and left the neighborhood.

Hawke pulled out his phone and called Brian. "Come by Silver Lake tonight; it's been a while since we had a drink together."

Brian knew why and replied, "I'll be over shortly."

Hawke then called Erica. "Are you wrapping up work soon? I've got Brian coming over for drinks."

Erica responded, "I may be late; there was a burglary in Beverly Hills. Paris Hilton's mansion was hit multiple times. The media's about to catch wind, and the precinct's feeling the heat. I'm handling this case myself, need to speak with Paris first. No idea how late it will drag on."

"Multiple burglaries? Didn't she notice?" Upon receiving confirmation, Hawke said, "I know Paris quite well; should I give her a call?"

Erica laughed. "No need. I told Paris you're my boyfriend, and she didn't kick up a fuss."

"That's good to know."

"I've got to get back to work." Erica blew him a kiss through the phone. "See you tonight."

Hawke hung up.

...

Edward drove them to Silver Lake, pulling straight into the villa.

Security had remained tight.

Hawke exited the vehicle and made his way to the underground wine cellar, fetching some bottles of tequila.

Brian enjoyed that particular spirit.

By the time Hawke emerged from the basement, Edward was ready to leave. "Boss, if there's nothing else, I'll be on my way."

Hawke shook the bottle he held. "Not joining me for some drinks?"

Edward flashed a broad smile. "I've got a dinner date with Maria Collins. She said yes."

Hawke gave him a thumbs up. "Best of luck with your date."

"It'll definitely go well." Edward added, "Last time I visited her place in Pacific Palisades, I spotted her wedding photo with Miller Collins still hanging around."

Hawke waved him off, "Go on, then."

Edward, bursting with excitement, dashed off to the garage, hopping into an Audi A8 to head to his date in West Los Angeles.

...

A little while later, Brian's car pulled into the villa's driveway.

He came in holding a copy of the San Francisco Chronicle and made his way to the bar, spreading the newspaper out before Hawke. "Check this out."

Hawke picked up the paper, noticing a photo of Douglas Coster on the front page.

Brian opened a bottle of tequila, poured two glasses, and raised his. "Here's to Douglas going to hell."

Hawke clinked glasses with him, responding, "Here's to this good news."

Brian continued, "That bastard wanted to take us down, but now we..."

"He's done so many wrongs, causing death to many, so it's natural for someone to seek revenge," Hawke interjected, stressing, "Let's toast to that nameless hero who took him out."

Brian got it right away and raised his glass again. "To the nameless hero."

Hawke skimmed through the paper, filled with articles about Douglas Coster's demise.

Nothing groundbreaking stood out.

Hawke cautioned Brian, "Stay safe out there."

"I will." Brian informed him, "My grandfather's making sure there's word out that you're a crucial member connected to the Ferguson family's pivotal interests. If someone dares to approach you illegally, it's equivalent to going after someone from the immediate Ferguson family."

Hawke poured another round of tequila. "Thanks for the heads-up."

Even though such information was circulating, he reminded himself not to neglect the issue of safety.

To many, he was still that poor kid from Wyoming.

Yet, that so-called poor kid held wealth worth billions.

Brian and Hawke shifted their focus away from serious matters and resumed drinking.

In the meantime, Brian received a call from Jennifer Huey, asking him out for a late-night snack.

Considering the time, Hawke ended up escorting Brian out.

By nearly nine o'clock, Erica returned home, looking a bit exhausted. "Dealing with reporters is scarier than facing armed robbers."

Hawke understood she was referring to Paris Hilton's situation. "What can you do? Paris is a celebrity."

Erica sighed, "The thief made off with her tape."

*****

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