Chương 115: Chapter 115: Right to the Point
[Chapter 116: Right to the Point]
In Silver Lake Community, at a Walmart supermarket.
At the entrance, Hawke spotted Caroline rushing over, and he handed her the shopping cart. "Push it."
Caroline instinctively caught the cart, but then realized something was off. "Hey, hey, hey."
Hawke reminded her, "Wrong."
Caroline opened her mouth and instinctively let out a "baa..."
She quickly covered her mouth and glanced around, only to notice a scruffy old man leering at her from the other side.
Caroline adjusted her Chanel trench coat, swung her Hermes bag, and shot a fierce glare at the old man.
Frank shook his head. "She doesn't like the poor and loves the rich. She doesn't look very smart."
Hawke replied, "We shouldn't have too high expectations for a little sheep."
Frank pushed the cart into the supermarket.
"Let's go," Hawke followed.
Caroline gritted her teeth, fuming, but thinking about the big upcoming business deal made her hold back her anger. Since Hawke hadn't revealed his plan yet, she complied and pushed the cart along.
The group headed straight to the food section.
Hawke picked up some food items with little or no sugar, tossing them into Caroline's cart.
Caroline leaned in closer with a look that said, "You really associate with everyone, huh?"
"You're really not too bright," Hawke whispered, "Everyone has their purpose. That jerk stalking me? He was the one who figured it out."
Caroline understood. "My purpose for you is just bringing in clients?"
Hawke shook his head. "Nope, your greatest role is to make me happy."
Those words made Caroline grind her teeth. Sure, Hawke might be happy, but it drove her to the point of wanting to baa in frustration.
Frank didn't hold back with Hawke at all, loading up Caroline's cart and calling her over to keep adding more.
Hawke didn't act like a gentleman, letting Caroline do all the heavy lifting.
As Frank went to grab some beers, Caroline asked the question that was burning in her mind. "Have you figured out a plan for Steve yet?"
"I've been busy with other things these past few days. Just wait a bit," Hawke said, also observing the social dynamics. "To create a buzz again, whatever we come up with has to be different."
Caroline completely agreed with that.
Once both shopping carts were full, the trio made their way to the checkout. Hawke stepped ahead to pay.
Caroline bit her lip, feeling like she was bleeding money. "I'll cover today's bill."
Seeing her gritted teeth, Hawke responded, "Don't force yourself."
Caroline insisted, "I'm doing this willingly."
While he was scanning items at the register, an old Black man suddenly dashed out of the supermarket.
This guy was limping, carrying a bag of goods, trying to flee but not moving very fast.
He didn't get far before a Black security guard charged out, shouting for him to stop while drawing his taser.
The taser dart flew through the air, and the old man fell to the ground, shaking.
"Did you see that?" Frank was still afraid of Edward and deliberately provoked him, "One day, that cotton-picking lackey of yours might end up like that."
But Hawke replied, "I think it'll be the other way around; you'll be the one lying on the ground, trembling."
California hadn't passed any relevant laws yet, and now the zero-dollar purchase trend wasn't really taking off.
The old man really had a screw loose coming to a place like Walmart.
...
As Frank and Caroline wheeled their cart out, Hawke took a closer look at the old man lying on the ground.
His pant leg had blown up in the wind, revealing part of a prosthetic limb.
The other foot was stuck in a dirty flip-flop.
Caroline passed by, quietly fanning the air in front of her nose. Her little hoofs hit the ground like a drumbeat, and in just a few breaths, she had moved far away.
When Hawke caught up, she said, "What's to look at? It's all dirty and smelly. Only someone like you, a real country bumpkin would care..."
Hawke shot back, "Shut up."
Feeling indignant, Caroline blurted, "Baa--"
Hawke glanced at the woman whose head was kicked by a sheep's hoof and said, "You go tell Steve I have a plan. Have him wait a few days."
"I'll call him shortly." Caroline pushed the cart to the Mondo, waiting for Hawke to open the trunk, automatically loading bags in.
Hawke stood beside her, drinking water.
While loading, Caroline felt something was off. Wasn't her role usually to be a bystander while Sasha and Amanda, her assistants, did all the work?
After Frank and Caroline finished loading, Hawke dismissed her. "Go ahead and keep yourself busy."
Caroline got into her red Mercedes, sitting in the driver's seat, staring blankly for a moment.
A feeling became clearer; her destiny was tightly grasped by that bastard Hawke.
Caroline felt a bit annoyed but then relaxed with a thought. When it came to making money, it didn't really matter.
...
This shopping trip not only filled Hawke's fridge but also Frank's RV fridge.
Frank pulled out the newly bought sausages and the beer he just shoved into the fridge. "I'll treat you for lunch."
Hawke looked at the things freshly picked from Walmart and said, "You're generous!"
"You gotta understand what it feels like to be broke," Frank specifically asked, "How much have you made since coming to LA?"
Hawke vaguely replied, "Definitely above seven figures."
He hadn't counted it closely, but since he arrived in LA, he was sure all incomes added would exceed four million dollars.
Frank seemed somewhat surprised. "That's more than I expected." He then asked, "Ever thought of scaling up?"
Hawke was quite clear-headed. "Scaling up is inevitable, but not now. I'm also learning how to run a studio; without matching capability and resources, expanding too soon would be a disaster."
Frank plated up the sliced sausages and bagged grilled meat, adding some fruit, setting it all on the table. "You're more stable than I thought, not that type of young man who easily gets swept away."
The king of the hustlers couldn't help but chime in: "I've seen so many young geniuses who made a ton of money in their first year and rushed to expand their companies. In the end, they couldn't even pay staff salaries, while the more prudent ones like me can achieve great successes and become big names in the industry."
Hawke decided to indulge him, raising his beer for a toast with Frank. "One day when I scale up, I'll have you as my advisor. You can't own any assets, but I'll make sure you have your food and shelter."
But Frank replied, "You're trying to take advantage of my connections."
Hawke replied boldly, "Keeping it would just be a waste."
Just then, a Maserati Quattroporte pulled into the parking lot and parked nearby.
The driver door opened, and a shorter yet imposing Mexican woman stepped out.
She was wearing stilettos, walking with a sway that seemed like it could crush mountains underfoot.
Anyone would be drawn to her height, while only someone like Quentin, the weirdo, would fixate on her feet.
Having seen From Dusk Till Dawn, Hawke recognized the woman, Salma Hayek, whom Frank nearly choked on when mentioning her as his lover.
Right then, Hawke wanted to gossip about this, but after finishing his beer, he stood up, saying, "I'm heading back for a nap."
Salma smiled and nodded at him. Hawke politely nodded back and started to leave.
Then Frank remembered something and warned Hawke, "Don't tell that cotton-picker."
Hawke waved him off casually as he walked away.
Behind him, Salma yelled out, "So this is where you've been hiding! If it weren't for you digging up info from Mexico, I'd never have found you."
Frank urged her to get in, "Come on, let's go. Don't let others gawk at us."
...
Hawke returned to the studio, sitting by the window, pulling out binoculars to look across to the parking lot.
The RV curtains were tightly shut, with nothing to see.
"What a cheapskate!" Hawke grumbled as he put down the binoculars.
He went upstairs for a short nap. Hearing noises at the door, he woke up immediately and peeked outside to find Edward had arrived.
Hawke quickly washed up and headed downstairs, where Edward sat at the window with binoculars, scrutinizing the scene.
Hawke asked, "What's up?"
Edward exclaimed, "Boss, come over! I discovered that old bastard's ex-wife! She's right in front of the RV!"
Hawke approached the window and said, "That's Salma Hayek, his girlfriend."
"Seriously? He didn't even introduce me to her? I thought we were friends!" Edward put down the binoculars. "I'll go over and say hi."
Hawke thought about how Frank wouldn't even let him have a glance, and said, "Let's go together."
...
They stepped out and quickly crossed Fountain Avenue, entering the parking lot.
Frank had seen Edward from afar and urged Salma, "Hurry, get in your car!"
Salma pointed to Hawke and Edward, "Aren't they your friends?"
Hawke waved, "Mind introducing us?"
Edward smiled revealing two rows of perfect teeth toward Frank.
Salma approached Hawke, shook his hand, and introduced herself. "I'm Salma Hayek, an actress."
Hawke wasn't just interested in gossip but used the opportunity to hand her his business card. "Hawke Osment, founder of West Coast Media Entertainment Studio, specializing in crisis public relations consulting and business strategy."
"West Coast Media Entertainment Studio? Hawke Osment?" Salma said earnestly. "I've heard of you. The selfie scandal was a very successful PR campaign."
Before Edward could introduce himself, Frank hurried in. "You can leave now."
Salma sighed and offered a brief apology before getting in the car and leaving.
Edward wandered over, banding his arm around Frank's shoulders. "Is this your ex-wife?"
Frank shrugged him off, "No!"
He turned and climbed into the RV, slamming the door shut, then opened one window with the slingshot gifted by Hawke aimed at Edward. "If you don't leave, I'll hit you!"
Edward retorted, "Salma Hayek, I'll remember that."
Hawke turned away and quickly distanced himself from the RV.
Sure enough, Frank picked up a steel ball, casually tugging the elastic and shot it at Edward, who took off running in a panic.
...
As they exited the parking lot, Hawke told Edward, "Let's go to the detective agency."
Edward's Cadillac had become the studio's business vehicle.
His good buddy Downey would definitely give him a thumbs-up.
Edward drove, asking, "Boss, was that really Frank's ex-wife?"
Hawke replied, "Frank sometimes boasts, but you can trust some of what he says. He's enemies with his ex-wives, yet seems on good terms with Salma Hayek. Doubt she's one of them."
Edward sighed, "Whatever, it's not interesting."
"What's going on with you and Deborah?" Hawke asked.
Edward said, "I encouraged Indio Downey to sign up for Taekwondo classes with me, so I could rightfully beat up Downey's son."
Hawke gave a thumbs-up to the Savior.
...
Upon arriving at the detective agency, Suzy was already waiting there.
Shortly after, Megan Taylor arrived with a film crew.
The group proceeded to the evidence room, filming what the LAPD had confiscated the day before in Venice.
Tonight, Ace News would continue its coverage.
Suzy found Hawke and said, "The charity exhibition you suggested has been approved. It's tentatively set for this weekend at the Griffith Exhibition Hall."
Hawke asked, "What about the thank-you event?"
"It'll showcase during the day on Saturday," Suzy replied. "The thank-you event will be on Sunday night."
She pulled out an invitation from her briefcase. "You're welcome to attend."
Hawke accepted it. "That's efficient."
Suzy smiled. For money-making endeavors, efficiency was key.
Hawke opened the invitation to find a card slipped inside.
Suzy explained, "An upgraded version of last time."
Hawke properly stored it away; he had heard from Erica that as long as it didn't involve criminal activity, LAPD would often turn a blind eye.
Just then, Erica called, asking, "Are you at the detective agency?"
Hawke replied, "I was just chatting with Suzy."
Erica, out tracking down the old Mule dealers, sounded a bit chaotic and moved to a quieter place, stating, "Milner just notified me that Daniel Richard's detention time is up. He's being released soon."
Hawke responded, "Got it."
Erica hung up.
Hawke found Edward and instructed him, "Go to the West Division and wait for Daniel Richard to come out. Follow him."
Edward took off immediately.
...
With matters wrapped up at the detective agency, Hawke called a cab, heading to Hollywood Boulevard.
He dialed Edward. "Where are you?"
"North Hollywood on Victory Boulevard," Edward said, providing an address. "He went to an insurance company after he got out, probably to negotiate vehicle insurance and repairs."
Hawke hung up, walked ahead to the place where the three, DaShawn and others, were performing, and shot DaShawn a knowing look.
He turned at the entrance of an alley, using the building to shield his body.
DaShawn quickly followed.
Hawke said, "Find a reliable one, preferably a homeless person with an infectious disease. Head to North Hollywood and have the Savior show you the target."
DaShawn suggested, "How about AIDS, bite him?"
Often unyielding in retaliation, Hawke shot back, "Why not?"
The chances of infection from a bite were low; he thought for a moment and added, "Just use a freshly contaminated needle to avoid detection. Dress as a thief, and while you're at it, cut his pocket. Can you find someone with experience in stealing?"
"No problem." DaShawn turned without another word and headed off.
He headed to the parking lot behind the Ackerman Shelter, asking Campos for car keys and seeking out people in the nearby homeless camp.
Healthy homeless people were rare on the street; sick ones were plentiful.
DaShawn found a homeless person with AIDS, in good enough shape but one of the fastest among the local homeless.
After connecting with Edward and acquiring some razor blades, he loaded the guy in his ride, heading straight for North Hollywood.
...
Upon reaching Victory Boulevard, he found Edward standing at the entrance of a convenience store, showing off his watch and phone to the female shopkeeper.
Edward had run into an ex-girlfriend, and back then, he had tried to mooch off the shopkeeper's support, but she saw him as free labor.
Now with this chance at bragging, he couldn't resist.
What was the point of having it all if he didn't show it off?
Fortunately, Edward hadn't lost sight of their mission and quickly wrapped up his showcase adventure, signaling discreetly to DaShawn in the vehicle as the two cars took off in succession.
Edward was familiar with Victory Boulevard and came to a roadside parking lot without surveillance, producing the previously taken photo of Daniel Richard to hand to DaShawn, pointing out Daniel's position and swapping the fake license plate as Hawke suggested.
Climbing back into the vehicle, DaShawn showed the photo, handed over the razor blade and needle, and gave a few last reminders.
...
The homeless man donned a new jacket and tidied himself a bit to avoid being considered competition by the other homeless folks on the street.
He exited the vehicle, approaching the insurance company's entrance, keeping a close watch.
Inside, Daniel Richard finished negotiating with the staff, who finally agreed to coordinate with the West Division to handle his car the next day.
Without a vehicle or equipment, Daniel couldn't even work.
He dialed Anna Cookman from Channel 11, but she didn't answer.
Daniel knew that she likely faced repercussions because of his disclosures.
Not that he intended to make trouble, but the LAPD were all jerks, locking him with a group of gay Black men in the same holding room!
After the negotiations wrapped up, Daniel left his number and stepped out of the insurance company, calling for a taxi.
He waited on the sidewalk for the cab to arrive, where a few others stood waiting as well.
The homeless man noticed his target and pulled out a syringe, jabbing it into himself.
As the needle filled with blood, he concealed it in his palm and briskly approached Daniel from the side, one hand slicing his pocket while the other jabbed the needle in.
Daniel, waiting for his ride, paid no mind to what was happening behind him, until he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his leg, like something had pricked him.
He turned to see someone sprinting away along the sidewalk.
"Who are you! Stop!" Daniel panted, chasing after him. "Don't run!"
The runner was fast as a rabbit and quickly turned the corner ahead.
DaShawn's car was parked on the side with the passenger door open.
The homeless man jumped into the car, leaving the door ajar while DaShawn hit the gas, starting the vehicle.
As the door closed, the car merged into the traffic.
Soon after, it veered into concealment, and DaShawn swapped out the fake license plate.
By the time Daniel turned the corner, he had missed everything.
Panting heavily, Daniel reached down to check his leg, spotting a faint trace of blood.
He then noticed a hole in his pant pocket, clearly slashed through by someone.
Such a small injury didn't bother Daniel.
He figured that jerk must have been a thief trying to snatch something from him, but with minor skill, he had taken nothing.
Daniel strolled back, waiting for his taxi to arrive as he left North Hollywood.
*****
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