~*~
Amoeba Music looked crowded. I parked Shamu, my big Ford F-250 with the paint job that made it resemble a killer whale, on Cahuenga where it intersected Sunset. We entered the large store and wormed our way through the crowds of vinyl browsers, music lovers, and people simply wandering the aisles.
Amber said, “I see them, c’mon.” She pushed through a group of people, saying, “Excuse us, excuse us,” and made a beeline toward the stage, where the four members of Electrical Testicle arranged the mikes and their instruments and gear.
They saw Amber and smiled, then eyed us.
Amber reached them, hugged each, and then pointed to us, “This is Ronny Baca and Hondo Wells. They’re trying to locate Bodhi.”
They all had long, blond hair, obviously dyed on two of them, and so much black eyeliner they looked like Alice Cooper. Glitter sparkled and winked on their cheeks and chests where it was visible under the sleeveless leather vests. Their hairless chests looked as smooth as four babies’ butts.
The one with the Superman insignia tat on his shoulder said, “I’m Jim,” he pointed at the others in turn, “and that’s Eric, Dale, and Spade.” Spade’s skin looked so white it almost glowed.
I said to Spade, “Get into many fights with the bros?”
Jim said, “That’s his last name.”
“For real?”
“For real.”
I said, “What’s your first name, Spade?”
“Sam.”
“No way.”
He grinned, “Dude, you have no idea.”
Hondo said, “Bodhi’s been missing for a week. Have you seen her?”
Jim said, “Maybe eight, nine days ago. The last time was when we were down by the pier in Venice.”
“Did she say anything about going somewhere, taking a trip?”
“No.”
Spade said, “We stayed close to her because there are jerks around who like to prey on emotionally vulnerable people.”
Hondo said, “Any one in particular?”
Jim said, “There’s one guy that’s like the leader of a group. They call themselves his family, if you can believe it. He wasn’t always there, but he sent his people to work on Bodhi.”
I said, “How, exactly.”
“Smooth words, flattering her, all that stuff. Drugs, too. They use LSD a lot. Always trying to get her to go with them.”
“Where do they hang out?”
“The beach, the parks, music scenes if the music is trippy enough, and parties. They crash parties all the time. They also stay somewhere outside of town, near Chatsworth, that area.”
“Why are they after Bodhi?”
Jim rubbed his fingers together. “Money.”
“She couldn’t see that?”
“Nope. Didn’t want to.”