by Meg Gardiner
Her nose wrinkled. ‘‘What’s with the garlic?’’
‘‘It’s eau de Dumpster.’’
‘‘You’re here without your lawyer. You must be feeling brave.’’
‘‘Feeling scared.’’
Too scared to put off this meeting until I could get someone to come with me from Sanchez Marks. Jesse was in court, and Lavonne had gone to Ventura for a deposition. I needed Rodriguez’s help, right now.
‘‘Tell me about Toby,’’ I said.
‘‘Local boy makes bad. He’s smooth, he’s rich, and, for a drug dealer, he’s smarter than the average bear. As he’ll tell you.’’
‘‘Degree in business economics. Reads the Wall Street Journal.’’
‘‘Bred in the bone. He’s a stockbroker’s kid. Got his start selling to his classmates at Lassen Academy, then moved his trade to the frat house at UCSB. Now he runs a tidy organization. Under the umbrella of his music promotion business. He does a lot of his business in international waters.’’
‘‘He can actually sail that boat, then.’’
‘‘Grew up sailing it, and inherited it from his father. The slip, rumor has, he got as payment in a drug deal.’’
I didn’t bother laughing at how absurd it was—Toby Price, drug runner, expecting fame in the music industry. People with worse reputations, people who’d done prison time for homicide, ran record labels and hosted radio shows in L.A.
‘‘And the Mings?’’ I said.
‘‘Merlin’s clean. No arrests, not even a parking ticket.’’
‘‘What about Murphy?’’
She poured maple syrup onto her pancakes, taking her time, drawing a spiral.
‘‘Detective?’’ I said.
‘‘Murphy Ming has a longer jacket.’’
She had that wide-eyed face, and the cowlick sticking up. And, despite being a tough gal who wore a holster on her belt, she looked reluctant to say anything cruel.
‘‘Auto theft, assault. Robbery. And he did three years for sexual battery.’’
His greasy presence asserted itself. I felt a phantom sensation, his mouth against my skin.
‘‘He raped somebody?’’ I said.
‘‘The robbery victim. Though he claimed he was settling a debt, and that the victim consented.’’
‘‘I know what he claimed. He claimed that he gave her a choice,’’ I said.
‘‘Him.’’ She put down her fork. ‘‘Gave him a choice.’’
I leaned my forehead on my palms. ‘‘What was the choice?’’
‘‘The victim could get it, or his sister could. And it was penetration with a foreign object.’’
‘‘What object?’’
‘‘A curling iron.’’
A feeling of slime and blood and dirty seawater was rising in me.
‘‘Murphy killed Brittany Gaines,’’ I said.
‘‘You have no evidence to support that.’’
‘‘She died. Toby Price was there at the party; I saw him. Murphy was too, I’ll bet anything.’’
‘‘I reread the deputy’s report. He got three names at the Del Playa house—you, P. J. Blackburn, and somebody called Bill Smithers.’’
‘‘It was Toby Price. I don’t care what he called himself. Describe him to the deputy; he’ll confirm it.’’
‘‘Even if he does, what does that prove?’’
‘‘Toby’s probably thirty-five years old. What was he doing at a college party? And don’t say he was dealing coke. He’s the boss, not a snow-cone vendor. Besides, he acted like he owned the place.’’
‘‘So?’’
‘‘He lured me there. What if he lured Brittany there too?’’
‘‘This is all frightened speculation.’’
‘‘Lily, help me.’’
She gave me a conflicted look. I spread my palms flat on the table.
‘‘These guys are after me. They’re going to hurt me.’’
‘‘Evan, calm down.’’
‘‘I think they killed Brittany because they thought she was me,’’ I said. ‘‘The ID. They thought she was Evan Delaney.’’
She scrunched her mouth like a kid working on math homework, biting her lip.
‘‘What are you suggesting? That they demanded the fifteen thousand from her, and killed her when she didn’t pay up?’’
‘‘Maybe.’’ I searched her face, trying to tell whether she believed me.
She shook her head. ‘‘We have a suspect in Brittany’s killing.’’
‘‘Give me a break. There’s P. J. Blackburn, who gets scared when he’s stoned, and who rescues puppies from the animal shelter. Or there’s Murphy Ming, who was pawing me up and down today and who sodomized some poor bastard with a curling iron.’’ My voice rose uncontrollably. ‘‘Did he rape her? Brittany— Jesus, did he rape her before he killed her?’’
The truckers, the waiter with the coffeepot, and the grandparents in the next booth all stared. I put my head in my hands, forcing my mouth closed.
After a moment I managed to speak quietly. ‘‘Murphy did it. Bring him in. Because he’s going to be coming after me tomorrow.’’
‘‘Evan, from what you’ve described the only crime anyone committed against you today is misdemeanor battery, for tossing you in the Dumpster.’’
‘‘So arrest him.’’
‘‘He’ll be out in two hours. Then what?’’
Encase them in cement up to their necks and drop a bag of hammers on them. From a roof.
‘‘Can’t you get them for extortion, or trafficking, or . . .’’
I looked down. I had ripped my place mat into curlicues. This wasn’t working. I needed to turn my head in a new direction.
‘‘They expect me to get this money for them. When it’s time to deliver, what if you’re waiting for them?’’
She lowered her fork, pondering. ‘‘You’re suggesting a sting.’’
‘‘Call it what you want.’’
‘‘That would involve you. You’re supposed to deliver the money.’’
Not a chance in hell did I want to do that. ‘‘You’d back me up. When they show, you swoop in and arrest them.’’
‘‘For what? You agreed to pay them.’’
‘‘Under duress. To get off that boat alive.’’
‘‘At any point today did Toby Price or Merlin or Murphy Ming threaten you with bodily harm?’’
I clutched the rim of the table. ‘‘You’re crazy. You know the threat was implicit. Why are you doing this?’’
‘‘So that I’ll have a persuasive argument when I take it to my lieutenant and try to talk him into it.’’
I reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
‘‘I’ll have to think about how to handle this. I’m with Crimes Against Persons. Extortion is Crimes Against Property, our other detective unit.’’
‘‘What do I do?’’
‘‘Sit tight. I have to kick this up the chain of command.’’ She signaled the waiter for the check. ‘‘You have someplace you can go tonight?’’
‘‘Other than home, you mean?’’
‘‘You said the Mings have been dogging you. Think they’re really just going to leave you to your lonesome until you show up at Price’s boat tomorrow afternoon?’’
‘‘Crap.’’ I ran my hands through my hair. A toothpick fell out. ‘‘Yeah, I can find someplace to go.’’
I gave her my cell phone number so she could reach me. The waiter put the check on the table. She took some bills from her wallet.
‘‘Understand, though. No guarantees. On anything,’’ she said. ‘‘I’ll call you. Just lie low.’’
And my brain screeched to a halt. Wedding rehearsal .
She stopped counting dollar bills. ‘‘What’s wrong?’’
‘‘I have to be somewhere.’’
‘‘Don’t go.’’
‘‘I know.’’ Slowly, slowly I leaned forward and put my forehead on the table. ‘‘I know.’’
‘‘D
amn.’’ I hung up my cell phone again.
No Nikki. No Jesse. No Brian—he had taken Luke whale watching. The puppy had been alone all afternoon, without food, possibly out of water by now. I couldn’t leave him by himself any longer. I had to go by my place and get him.
Playing it wary, I parked a block away and circled toward the house from a side street. On the western horizon, twilight glowed pink. In the east above the mountains, stars spattered an indigo sky. I slipped into the garden through a break in the back hedge.
When I flipped on a light Ollie yapped, a happy sound, and stood up in his box wagging his tail. I scratched his ears.
‘‘We’re going for a ride. Let’s get your gear.’’
His tail wagged frantically.
I found his dog food and his leash. Into a gym bag I threw jeans, a shirt, running shoes, and my laptop. And, acting on hope, I added panty hose, wedding-worthy underwear, and makeup. I was going to miss the rehearsal, but maybe, just maybe, everything would work out and I could make the wedding.
Yes, and Santa’s going to bring me that pony next Christmas. I was zipping the gym bag when the phone rang. The machine got it and Nikki came on.
‘‘Ev, pick up.’’
I grabbed the phone. ‘‘Where are you?’’
‘‘I just walked in the door. Are you expecting company?’’
‘‘No.’’ I twirled, looking outside, seeing the lights on in Nikki’s living room but nobody outside.
‘‘Two men are out front. They have a red van and a bad vibe.’’
‘‘What are they doing?’’
‘‘Standing on the sidewalk, staring at my house. Do you know them?’’
‘‘Lock your front door.’’
‘‘Shit.’’ I heard her footsteps as she ran down the hall. ‘‘Should I call the police?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘What are you going to do?’’
I stood frozen in the living room. If the Mings wanted me badly enough, they could get to me before Nikki finished talking to the police dispatcher.
‘‘I’m going to split. If I’m not here, they’ll go away.’’
‘‘Then split. Now.’’ Her voice pulled away from the receiver. ‘‘Thea, baby, get down. Come here.’’
I looked out the French doors and across the lawn at her windows. Thea was standing on the chair, little hands pressed to the glass. Nikki came into view and swept her under one arm. On the phone she drew a sharp breath.
‘‘They’re heading toward the gate.’’
I ran to the door and flipped the dead bolt. Grabbing the leash, I rushed to Ollie’s box and clipped it to his collar.
‘‘Listen, Ev, I drove past your car, and—’’
‘‘You spotted my car?’’
‘‘So did these guys. Hard to miss the white Explorer with the broken window. One of them was out of the van, looking at it.’’
I stopped. ‘‘Did he do anything to it?’’
‘‘He touched the hood. Like he was checking whether the engine was warm.’’ Her voice stretched with tension. ‘‘They’re coming down the path.’’
Holding the gym bag and Ollie’s leash, I backed into my bedroom. The puppy fumbled happily around my feet. ‘‘Where’s Carl?’’
‘‘In San Jose on business. They’re coming to your door. Oh, Ev . . .’’
I pushed open my bedroom window and tossed the gym bag outside. ‘‘I’m going out the back window.’’
‘‘Hurry.’’
I bent to pick up Ollie. ‘‘Just have to get the puppy.’’
‘‘What? Leave it.’’
He wriggled under my arm. ‘‘They might hurt him.’’
‘‘Screw the puppy.’’
‘‘But—’’
‘‘Shit, woman, I’ll get the frickin’ puppy. Go.’’
I heard the knob turning on my front door, the glass rattling. I gave Ollie a long look and set him on the floor.
‘‘He’s in my room,’’ I said.
‘‘They’re peering through the French doors.’’
I climbed out the window and dropped onto the grass outside.
‘‘Uh-oh, they’re walking around the side of the house,’’ Nikki said.
‘‘Which side?’’
‘‘Right.’’
I ran left. Heading around to the garden, I aimed toward the break in the back hedge. Behind me I heard murmuring as the Mings circled the house. I squeezed sideways into the hedge, trying not to rustle.
‘‘Get going,’’ Nikki said.
‘‘I’m gone. Call the police.’’
I hung up, set the phone on the ground, and inched my way through the hedge. I was breaking free on the far side when I heard Murphy say, ‘‘Fuck it, she’s not here.’’
‘‘Bet she switched cars. She’s being sly,’’ Merlin said.
‘‘Then we keep an eye on her lawyer. She won’t stray far from him.’’
I took off running, with that thought pounding in my ears.
18
Twelve knocks, no answer, but I kept pounding anyway. Brian might have been putting Luke in the tub. The doors at the Fiesta Coast Motel were thin, and eventually he would hear me. I glanced over the railing at the courtyard below. Green and blue lights illuminated the pool and palm trees and the pure sixties decor of the motel. I knocked again.
The door to the room next door cracked open and I heard a voice like cream.
‘‘They’re not back yet.’’ Marc stood in the doorway. ‘‘Come in.’’
‘‘Man, I’m glad to see you. I thought you went with them.’’
‘‘Small boats make me seasick. I drove out to Sand-piper and scrounged together a foursome.’’
He closed the door behind me. We faced each other in the faux-Spanish room, and the awkwardness switch flipped on. He had obviously jumped out of the shower to answer the door. His hair shone wet, and a line of water was gleaming its way down his bare chest. He grabbed a white polo shirt.
‘‘Everything all right?’’ he said. ‘‘You look upset.’’
He wrangled the shirt over his head. The planes of his back reminded me of a Shona wood carving, dark and burled and sleek.
‘‘Is it Jesse?’’ he said.
I rubbed my eyes. ‘‘Jesse doesn’t know he’s upset with me yet.’’
My cell phone started ringing. I read the display.
‘‘But he’s going to go nuclear in about ten seconds.’’ The phone kept ringing. ‘‘Listen in; it’s going to be a laugh fest.’’
‘‘Can I do anything?’’
‘‘Bust open the minibar and keep those tiny bottles coming. I’m paying.’’
‘‘Run that by me again. Slowly,’’ Jesse said. ‘‘Because I think you just told me that you’re trying to set up a sting that might get you killed.’’
‘‘And I have to miss the wedding rehearsal.’’
‘‘We’ve figured that out. Caroline’s pulling out her eyelashes. Give me Detective Rodriguez’s number; I want to get on her ass, have her commander arrange protection for you.’’
I gave it to him. ‘‘I’m sorry about this. Caroline isn’t throwing things, is she?’’
‘‘A shoe, but Evan, forget the rehearsal. Where are you?’’
I procrastinated, twisting the top off a one-sip bottle of Famous Grouse. Marc sat on the bed, looking pensive.
I tossed back the tiny bottle, draining it. ‘‘You have to stay away.’’
Through the phone I heard voices jousting in the background. And a penetrating complaint about the flowers, which must have come from Brideasaurus Rex.
‘‘Stay away?’’ Jesse lowered his voice. ‘‘Explain that. Please.’’
‘‘The Ming brothers are watching you. I heard them say they would find me by tailing my lawyer.’’
‘‘Fuck. So don’t—’’
More voices, now talking at him. He apologized for his language. I screwed the top off another wee bottle.
He came back on the line. ‘‘So don’t go home.’’
‘‘And I won’t go to your place. And you’re not going to see me until this is done. In fact, I’d rather not even tell you where I am.’’
The silence on the other end was painful. ‘‘This isn’t The Terminator, Delaney. Mutso and Moonie won’t track you down through a phone call.’’
‘‘I’m okay, Jesse.’’
‘‘You think they’ll hurt me to get to you.’’
‘‘They’ll hurt you, me, anybody they feel like. Maybe you shouldn’t go home tonight either.’’
‘‘Get real. Where am I going to sleep, my parents’ couch? Or how about with you? Wait—I can’t, because I don’t know where you are.’’
There was a long, scraping quiet. ‘‘I’m at the motel.’’
‘‘Good.’’ The relief in his voice was tangible. ‘‘Brian will stick to you like gum.’’
I looked at Marc, and didn’t correct Jesse.
‘‘Ev, there’s no way these shitheads can tail me tonight. By the time they even got the idea to follow me I was long gone from work. They have no idea where I am.’’
‘‘But this is how we’re going to play it. I’ll see you tomorrow.’’
His voice was grudging. ‘‘Okay.’’
In the background, music struck up. ‘‘I have to go. They’re practicing the processional.’’ He forced his voice back toward normalcy. ‘‘Evan. This is serious stuff.’’
‘‘I know.’’
‘‘The cops will try to use you. Make no mistake about that. Watch your back.’’
‘‘You too.’’
I set the phone down and pulled my feet up on the chair, hugging my knees.
Marc scanned my face. Without a word he stood and began packing his bag. ‘‘I’ll stay with Brian and Luke tonight. You take this room.’’
‘‘Stop. You don’t have to leave.’’
He lifted an eyebrow.
‘‘No, I mean I’ll stay with Brian and Luke tonight.’’
He smiled not so enigmatically. ‘‘Dang.’’
I wagged my finger at him. I was flushing. ‘‘Pilots. You think everything’s a launch signal.’’
Still smiling, he zipped the bag. ‘‘I’ll go. You need space and quiet and a hot shower. But I’ll stick around until they get back.’’ He picked up the room phone. ‘‘What do you want from room service?’’
