The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 307: Smart Cars]

West Beverly Hills, Los Angeles Country Club.

Edward pulled up in his Mercedes sedan, easing into the parking lot near the entrance.

Hawke stepped out and immediately noticed a crowd gathered near the restaurant on one side of the club.

"Looks like some environmental group," Edward said, hopping onto a ledge for a better view. He squinted, then jumped down and turned to Hawke. "It's the Sierra Club. They're protesting the restaurant serving Smelt fish."

Hawke had been to the club before and eaten the fish in question. Back then, the menu listed it as "Capelin fish," though he knew it was just a fancier name for Smelt. "They import it from Germany," he said. "Supposedly a big deal for their economy over there."

Edward glanced back at the commotion, then caught up with Hawke. "Those eco-nuts are something else," he muttered.

Hawke kept walking. "They've got sponsors footing the bill. Doesn't matter what they do -- they don't need real jobs. Stirring up trouble pays better than punching a clock. If they didn't have that cash, they'd be out on the street like bums, too busy scrounging for food to care about fish."

Nearby, Mary Ferguson climbed out of her car and overheard him. She shot Hawke a look. "Well said."