Free Swimsuit by James Patterson

to this. We trust Ben, and he
     has the power of the
L.A. Times
behind him. He might be able to do more for us than we can do alone.”
    Jackson exhaled his exasperation but seemed to concede the point. He said to me, “Anything out of
my
mouth has to be okayed by me before you run with it, understand?”
    I said I did.
    Jackson’s office took up a corner at the back of the building, had one window and a noisy air conditioner; numbers were written
     on the blue plasterboard walls near the phone.
    Jackson indicated chairs for the McDanielses, and I leaned against the doorframe as he flapped open a notepad, took down basic
     information.
    Then he got down to business, working, I thought, off a notion that Kim was a party girl, questioning her late-night habits
     and asking about men in her life and drug use.
    Barbara told Jackson that Kim was a straight-A student. That she had sponsored a Christian Children’s Fund baby in Ecuador.
     That she was responsible to a fault and the fact that she hadn’t returned their call was
way
out of character.
    Jackson listened with a mostly bored look on his face before saying, “Yeah, I’m sure she’s an angel. I’m waiting for the day
     someone comes in, says their kid is a meth head or a slut.”
    Levon sprang to his feet, and Jackson stood up a beat after that, but by then Levon had the advantage. He shoved his palms
     into Jackson’s beefy shoulders, sending him backward into the wall, which shook with a loud crack. Plaques and photos crashed
     to the floor, which is what you’d expect when 180 pounds or so was used as a wrecking ball.
    Jackson was the bigger and younger man, but Levon was mainlining adrenaline. Without pause, he reached down and grabbed Jackson
     up by his lapels and threw him against the wall again. There was another terrible crashing sound as Jackson’s head bounced
     off the plasterboard. I watched him grab for the arm of his chair, which toppled, and sent him down a third time.
    It was an ugly scene even
before
Levon crowned the moment.
    He stared down at Jackson, and said, “Damn, that felt good. You son of a bitch.”

Chapter 30
    A HEAVYSET FEMALE OFFICER BARRELED toward the doorway as I stood there like a stump, trying to absorb that Levon had assaulted
     a
cop,
shoved him, thrown him down, cursed at him, and said it felt
good.
    Now Jackson was on his feet, and Levon was still panting. The woman cop yelled,
“Hey, what’s going on?”
    Jackson said, “We’re fine here, Millie. Lost my balance. Gonna need a new chair.” And he waved her off. Then he turned back
     to Levon, who was shouting at him, “Don’t you
get
it? I told you last
night.
We got a fricking
phone call
in Michigan. The man said he took my daughter, and you’re trying to say Kim’s a tramp?”
    Jackson straightened his jacket, his tie, righted his chair. His face was red and he was scowling. He jerked the chair around,
     then shouted back at Levon, “You’re
crazy,
McDaniels.
    You realize what you just did, you stupid
fuck?
You want to be locked up?
Do you?
You think you’re a tough guy? You want to find out just how tough
I am?
I could arrest your ass and have you put away for this, don’t you know that?”
    “Yeah, throw me in jail, damn you. Do that, because I want to tell the world how you treated us. What a yahoo you are.”
    “Levon, Levon,” Barbara was up, begging her husband, pulling at his arm. “Stop, Levon. Control yourself. Apologize to the
     lieutenant, please.”
    Jackson sat down, rolled his chair up to his desk, said, “McDaniels, don’t ever put a hand on me again. Due to the fact that
     you’re out of your fucking mind, I’ll minimize what just happened in my report. Now sit down before I change my mind and arrest
     you.”
    Levon was still blowing hard, but Jackson gestured to the chairs, and Levon and Barbara sat down.
    Jackson touched the back of his head, rubbed his elbow, then said, “Half the time, a kid goes missing, one of the parents