Page 22 of The Lincoln Lawyer

“A guy at the Travelodge on Santa Monica. I did him earlier and he offered it to me, you know, instead of cash. Then after I left I checked my messages and I had the call from the guy at the Mondrian. So I called him back, set it up and went straight there. I forgot I had the stuff in my purse.”

Nodding, I leaned forward. I was seeing a glimmer on this one, a possibility.

“This guy in the Travelodge, who was he?”

“I don’t know, just some guy who saw my ad on the site.”

She arranged her liaisons through a website which carried photos, phone numbers and e-mail addresses of escorts.

“Did he say where he was from?”

“No. He was Mexican or Cuban or something. He was sweaty from using.”

“When he gave you the coke, did you see if he had any more?”

“Yeah, he had some. I was hoping for a call back… but I don’t think I was what he was expecting.”

Last time I had checked her ad on LA-Darlings.com to see ifshe was still in the life, the photos she’d put up were at least five years old and looked ten. I imagined that it could lead to some disappointment when her clients opened their hotel room doors.

“How much did he have?”

“I don’t know. I just knew he had to have more because if it was all he had left, he wouldn’t have given it to me.”

It was a good point. The glimmer was getting brighter.

“Did you screen him?”

“’Course.”

“What, his driver’s license?”

“No, his passport. He said he didn’t have a license.”

“What was his name?”

“Hector something.”

“Come on, Gloria, Hector what? Try to re—”

“Hector something Moya. It was three names. But I remember ‘Moya’ because I said ‘Hector give me Moya’ when he brought out the coke.”

“Okay, that’s good.”

“You think it’s something you can use to help me?”

“Maybe, depending on who this guy is. If he’s a trade-up.”

“I want to get out.”

“Okay, listen, Gloria. I’m going to go see the prosecutor and see what she’s thinking and see what I can do for you. They’ve got you in here on twenty-five thousand dollars’ bail.”

“What?”

“It’s higher than usual because of the drugs. You don’t have twenty-five hundred for the bond, do you?”

She shook her head. I could see the muscles in her face constricting. I knew what was coming.

“Could you front it to me, Mickey? I promise I’d—”