The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 277: Don't Tell Him]

In Brentwood, a sprawling mansion stood host to a lunch gathering. When facing Erica's father Carter Ferguson and mother Mary Ferguson, Hawke knew when to act and when to retreat. Although he didn't say much, he always got to the point. With the halo of Twitter, he could definitely be considered a young and promising person.

Mary was already quite impressed with Hawke, and by the end of the meal, Carter fully agreed with her assessment. He also seemed to think highly of his daughter's choice.

...

After lunch, Erica showed Hawke upstairs to tour her bedroom. Mary turned to Carter and asked, "What do you think?"

"He has some ability," Carter replied, adopting a more relaxed demeanor away from Hawke. "He look a little worse than when I was young."

Mary accepted a cup of tea from the maid, placing it in front of Carter as she said, "He may not be a standout, but he's certainly more than ordinary, and honestly, that's not the most important thing."

Carter concurred, "It's quite rare for someone from a regular background to achieve what he has."

He paused for a moment before adding, "And crucially, Hawke isn't rigid; he adapts well and plays hard in this dog-eat-dog world, which is necessary for protecting family and wealth."

Mary chimed in, "Though, Erica can be ruthless as well, her focus just happens to be more on firearms."

Carter nodded, "Erica's our only daughter. Her future husband needs to be able to protect her."

Mary took another sip of tea and remarked, "Douglas, the president of the San Francisco office of BlackRock, passed away."

"The guy who attacked Hawke and Brian?" Carter sipped his tea before adding, "That was a necessary retaliation; you have to kill to stop killing. Only then will Blackrock and their men restrain themselves."

If you are the first to kill, you must be prepared to be killed. The message was clear -- they had the capabilities to eliminate threats.

Mary said, "After we made our voices heard, BlackRock passed the message through an intermediary that this needed to end here."

Carter replied coolly, "Once something has happened, how can it end just like that?"

"We are clear on that front, as is Hawke," Mary emphasized without having mentioned it to Hawke. "So, no need to remind him."

Carter reflected, "I was rebellious when I was young, and I didn't agree with what my father said. Fortunately, the rebellious period didn't last long. Looking at you and Hawke, I've increasingly come to appreciate how right he was."

Mary smiled, "When dealing with a person, focus on what they do rather than where they come from."

"Exactly." Carter glanced at his watch. "I need to get going; I have a lot to do this afternoon."

Mary nodded, "Drive safely."

...

Upstairs in Erica's room, Hawke flipped through an album of her childhood photos. As a toddler, she appeared chubby, but after five, many of her photos featured firearms.

By the age of twelve, Erica posed with a small-caliber hunting rifle alongside her catches.

Erica came up from behind, glancing at the photo and said, "This was my first official hunt. I vividly remember taking down a mule deer and a big-eared rabbit -- just like Bugs Bunny."

Hawke promptly gave a thumbs up and said, "It's much better than when I was thirteen years old. At that time, I could only shoot randomly to scare away coyotes."

Erica asked, "When I visited your house, I didn't see any childhood photos."

"I had a rebellious phase, and that happened to coincide with my parents' accident," Hawke responded. "The farm was sold off, and I was driving around in a beat-up car across America, learning a bunch of odd skills. The belongings at the farm were mostly treated as trash by the buyers."

Erica leaned in and kissed Hawke's forehead, saying, "Next time I have a break, we should go back to your farm in Wyoming. We can't always be running into some assholes."

Hawke suddenly realized, "Whatever you do, don't tell Brian. If he finds out, our vacation will be ruined."

The mention of Brian made Erica seriously say, "Absolutely not."

The cursed tongue of a gossip was something to avoid at all costs.

...

They quickly descended the staircase. Carter had left for a meeting, leaving only Mary downstairs.

Mary chatted with Hawke for a few minutes, steering the conversation towards Twitter. "I heard you're spearheading the overseas expansion?"

Hawke replied briefly, "Mainly focusing on Europe, Latin America, East Asia, particularly Japan and Southeast Asia -- currently waiting for the right moment."

Mary asked, "Still following the previous approach?"

Hawke elaborated, "The studio that often provides news to Twitter has discovered news about a Soccer star and is currently following up. Soccer holds a massive global influence, far surpassing basketball. I expect that any related news we receive will spread a lot further than coverage on Kobe Bryant's Eagle County scandal."

He chuckled, adding, "Pacific Investment will continue to push forward when the time comes."

Mary agreed, "Sounds good."

...

After chatting a bit longer, Hawke politely decided to take his leave, with Erica following him out of Brentwood. They both had the day off and planned to go on their date.

Hawke asked, "Where do you want to go?"

Erica replied without hesitation, "Artel Mountain Shooting Range. We haven't trained together for over a week; our coordination will get rusty if we are away from training for a long time."

Hawke teased, "We just practiced last night."

Erica pointed at him, pretending to be mad, "You weren't accurate enough -- you might as well have closed your eyes."

Hawke replied earnestly, "If you practice with me a few more times, accuracy will naturally improve."

Erica grinned, "Let's do it tonight."

...

In Southern California, Rosario.

A few cars arrived at a beachside villa, led by a police car. Captain Robert stepped out first, instructing his associate Diaz to open the rickety courtyard gate.

Once the gate swung open, a dozen individuals exited the vans behind them. Among them was Barack Bernanke, accompanied by a high-paid consultant named Charles.

Charles turned to his team and gestured toward the villa, saying, "Let's examine the scene."

They donned masks, shoe covers, and gloves, pulling out various professional equipment before entering the premises.

Charles didn't hold high hopes; Rosario's police department had already conducted multiple searches and taken too much evidence from the scene.

Too many people had entered; the Mexican police were limited in their capabilities, and much evidence had been compromised. Yet, given the client's hefty payment, it was crucial to conduct the investigations as professionally as possible.

Charles donned a mask and shoe covers, then took a quick look around. The scene was chaotic and he shook his head secretly. Just then a phone call came in and he found a quiet room to answer it.

After a quick conversation, he exited and found Barack Bernanke, who was communicating with the Mexican police, and waved him over.

Barack hurried to him.

Charles reported, "My team has inquired at all the hotels and inns in Rosario, checked the guest lists, and questioned people around the airport, but we've found no suspicious individuals."

He sighed. "The number of surveillance cameras here is nearly non-existent; the infrastructure is severely lacking."

Barack showed no sign of blame since Los Angeles also had limited public surveillance.

Continuing, Charles said, "In Los Angeles, my people paid a significant amount to obtain surveillance footage from the terminal covering Andy Carroll's arrival and departure; however, given the volume of traffic, we haven't identified anything yet. We've narrowed our focus down to passengers on the same flight as Andy Carroll and are currently examining the list for potential suspects."

Barack asked, "What about Melissa?"

Charles thought about it before responding, "As you suggested, there's a substantial possibility of internal issues within your foundation."

Barack regretted revealing plans that he would be visiting Baltimore with Melissa to assess the construction of a medical center.

...

Hours later, the specialists who had entered the villa began to trickle out. One approached Charles and whispered a few words to him.

Charles sought out Barack, saying, "The scene was too damaged; aside from bullet holes and shells, there's practically nothing to recover."

Barack couldn't help but exclaim, "These Mexican idiots!" Then he inquired, "Is there any way to trace the firearms through ballistics analysis?"

"Let's try, but don't hold your breath," Charles warned, not wanting to set unrealistic expectations for the client. "Mexico has too many guns and far too many shootings. There's only a handful of labs capable of performing ballistic analysis, and even if these guns were used, the chances that the Mexican authorities have kept a record are very slim..."

Upon hearing this, Barack finally understood why nothing had happened in Los Angeles; they purposely chose to act in Mexico.

It wasn't just because the Ackerman family had a long stranglehold on Los Angeles.

This led Charles to conclude, "The ones who acted are skilled marksmen, likely trained professionals who knew Melissa's movements. They didn't just target her out of the blue -- they likely followed her for months or even longer."

A name popped into Barack's mind -- Sean Ackerman.

After all, it wouldn't have been hard for Sean to pull this off; it could even be seen as easy.

Melissa and Sean had long-standing animosities; Sean believed that his mother died in a car accident due to Melissa's actions.

Barack suddenly faced a dilemma; if Melissa actually died, would Buddy have any other options regarding inheritance?

What would happen to him?

...

The team then proceeded to check the neighboring villa, again finding nothing.

Barack and Charles got into a company car and returned to the Titanic Hotel where they were staying.

They had already checked every possible place within the hotel, similarly finding no suspects.

Those involved hadn't even stayed within the city limits.

...

Barack returned to his room and called Los Angeles. After a busy day outside, he felt hungry, changed into a sweater, and headed downstairs to the restaurant.

Finding an empty table, he placed his order. A moment later, someone approached and sat down across from him.

The person leaned in and quietly said, "Barack, Mr. Sean Ackerman sent his regards. He has a great admiration for you, stating that the success of the Ackerman Foundation today largely owes to you."

Barack remained silent.

The person left a business card saying, "You can reach out to Sean Ackerman for coffee whenever you like."

*****

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