I said, “Just to be around Bodhi?”
“That’s what I think. Anyhow, he’s been here five years, and from what I can tell has made Sylvia’s company significantly more prosperous.”
Hondo said, “Does he ever bother Bodhi?”
“Not that I’ve seen. He likes to see her, be in a room with her, but in my presence he’s never physically touched her. I guess you’d say he adores her from afar.”
“Cyrano,” I said.
Wilson nodded, “Maybe so.”
Hondo said, “And he has no friends?”
“Franco is about the loneliest person I’ve ever met. I’ve observed him and the others, but Franco stands out. He has nobody, he never dates, and when away from the mansion he’s a shy, almost reclusive man. His only pleasure seems to be eating at fine restaurants…well that, and mooning over Bodhi. I feel sorry for him. I don’t like him because he’s an ass, but I pity the guy.”
As we continued to the truck, I said, “What’s the deal with Troy not sitting with Sylvia?”
“She cut his monthly allowance because he’s spending all of it and more. Troy got upset about it, so he’s pouty now. Sylvia called Derek to talk and he came over, so Troy’s trying to worm his way back to her side.”
Hondo said, “He doesn’t want to lose access to all her money.”
“And influence,” Wilson said. “He uses her name to push his personal projects to other studios.”
I said, “Because Sylvia won’t produce them?”
“Pretty much.”
We reached Shamu and I slipped behind the wheel to start it up. “Out of curiosity, what was Troy’s allowance before Sylvia cut it?”
Wilson said, “Hundred-thousand a month, and he’s had that for two years. Problem was, he spent more than that each month.”
“On what?”
I don’t know everything, but I remember he once went into a store on Rodeo and bought seven Tiffany Chronograph watches so he could wear a different one every day of the week.”
“How much do they run?”
“About fifteen thousand.”
I said, “For all of them?”
Wilson grinned, “Apiece.”
Hondo asked, “What’s his allowance now?”
“Ten thousand a month.”
Hondo smiled.
Wilson opened the gate and we drove into light traffic on South Mapleton Drive, working our way through the city to Venice and our office, dreading all the way what we wo
uld hear on the identity of the woman in the car.
Hondo said, “I know we’ve never even met Bodhi, only seen photos and talked to Amber and a few others about her, but I feel like we know her.”
“I hope that body isn’t her. I feel bad for whoever it is, but I’m not wanting to hear that it’s Bodhi.”
We pulled into the parking area in front of our office and I spotted something near the door. I picked it up and showed it to Hondo. I said, “It’s an Afghanistan Campaign Medal.”